The Harvesting (The Harvesting, #1)

The figure under me moved. Then I saw three others. They all closed in on her.

“April, watch out!” I screamed.

The one who had stood under my tree turned then and came back. He jogged around the bottom of my tree trying to catch sight of me. He was joined a moment later by another undead man. They both swung at me, trying to pull me from the tree.

April screamed and tried to run, swinging the apple picker at the undead men who tried to grab her.

“Ian!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Ian, help!”

Larry and Jensen had just got back to the truck. They were setting their bushels down.

“Ian!” I screamed louder. “Larry!”

The undead men bumped against the ladder knocking it and my weapons on the ground.

“Layla, help,” April screamed. She was trying to climb into the tree but they were grabbing at her.

I swung down, trying to strike one of the undead with a dagger. They were out of range, and my position was too awkward. I could neither throw nor strike. I considered jumping out of the tree but landing would be clumsy and slow. I was about to try anyway when April let out a blood curdling cry.

The men looked up. “Ian, help!!” I screamed again, waving at him. He saw me then. Dropping everything, the men took off in a sprint, weapons drawn.

Through the leaves I saw April had been pulled to the ground. She was screaming but still kicking and fighting.

Moments later there was gunfire. The undead figures hovering over April fell to the ground. I heard April crying and moaning.

They shot the two undead under my tree. As soon as they hit the ground I clambered out of the tree, grabbed my weapons, and ran to April.

We were too late. One of her sneakers had been torn off and her foot was badly wounded. She had been bitten. Her leg was bleeding profusely.

“Someone get Jamie,” I said as I pulled on a pair of medical gloves.

Jensen took off in a sprint.

I cursed myself for my carelessness, cursed myself because April had no hope. I slid the gloves on and taking my knife, cut away April’s jeans. A nasty bite wound was revealed.

“Oh no, no, no,” April moaned.

Ian took April’s hand.

My hands shook. Larry pulled off his belt and handed it to me. I wrapped the belt around April’s leg and pulled it tight. She moaned.

Jensen and Jamie came running up. “God dammit, Ian. I told you to keep an eye on . . . them,” he cursed and dropped to his knees. “Go get everyone rounded up and sweep this place again,” he told his brother angrily as he pulled on his gloves.

Ian rose and walked off.

“Music probably attracted them,” I said quietly as Jamie looked April over.

He nodded, but I could see he was angry. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Ohh, oh God, oh no,” April groaned.

I handed Jamie my canteen, and he poured water over April’s foot and leg. It washed the blood away. We could see then that the blood around the bite marks on her skin had already started to coagulate. The veins in her legs seemed to turn dark blue and color started to fade from the skin and travel up her leg. We watched, horrified. From the bite on her foot up her leg, the skin slowly lost its pigment. Her skin faded pale white as the diseased blood traveled up her body. Moments later she went silent. She stiffened for a moment and then jerked spasmodically as the infection climbed across her face. Her skin bleached white, the veins in her forehead darkening. She jerked several more times and then became still. She was moon white. Her veins, evident under her flesh, were dark blue. Her eyes had fluttered closed.

How different. I heard April’s voice in my head. Again she repeated: how different.

I looked around. Clearly, no one else had heard her. Jensen, Jeff, and Larry were looking down at April. Jamie and I rose. We all stared down at April’s body. She lay in tall green grass. Purple violets made a halo around her. No one breathed.

We heard a gunshot in the distance followed by two more.

A moment later, April sat up. She opened her eyes and looked at us. Her eyes had gone pale white with the now-familiar streaks of red. Frothy saliva began to drop from the corner of her mouth.

Jensen raised his gun.

April turned to look at him.

No, I heard like a whisper in the wind.

Jensen pulled the trigger. April fell back, a spray of blood and brains covered the grass.

Ian ran back up to us. “There were two more out there. It was the Tanders and their boys. Maybe two farm workers. Looks like the place is clear now,” he said. He looked down at April.

I watched the expression on his face change. It was as if he’d just realized what had happened. It occurred to me then how careless Ian was with other people’s lives. I looked away from him.

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