The Last Harvest

Something’s off. Something’s very wrong. I focus in on him. His eyes are pure black, like endless pits of nothingness, just like the calf’s … just like Jimmy’s … and now Ben’s.

I try to scream, but my tongue feels thick, like it’s choking off my air supply. My head lolls back as a mass of gray static overtakes my consciousness and just like that … I’m gone.





39

I COME to, a mask over my mouth and nose, beeping noises and a strange jostling beneath me. I try to sit up, but something’s holding me down—wide canvas straps.

“Hey, there, Clay.” A doughy face comes into focus as the mask is slipped off my mouth. It’s Larry Parker, former Midland High guard. Calls himself an EMT, but really he just answers the phone down at the courthouse and drives the meat wagon around town. “He’s awake,” Larry hollers over his shoulder.

“Wait!” I crane my head back toward the field. “Ben. What about Ben Gillman … that wasn’t real, right?”

“’Fraid so,” Larry says as he pulls up the gurney, locking it in place. “Shame. He was the only decent tight end we had.”

“Well, look who finally decided to join us.” Deputy Tilford leans over me with a smug look on his face.

“What’s happening?” I ask, gripping the freezing metal bar next to my hand.

“I should be asking you the same question,” he says.

“Excuse me … pardon me…” Miss Granger pushes through the crowd. She’s got dark circles under her eyes. “I’m here, Clay.”

Larry fumbles with the blood pressure cuff. “Hey there, Miss Granger.”

“We need to get him off this field, to the hospital.”

“I don’t need to go to—”

Miss Granger cuts me off by resecuring the oxygen mask.

“No way.” Deputy Tilford steps in front of the gurney. “Sheriff wants him close by for questioning. Besides, he probably just passed out. He’s fine.”

“What if he has a concussion? What if he’s in shock?” Miss Granger asks.

“She’s got a point,” Larry says.

Greg glares at both of them. “Nearest hospital is an hour away. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to tamper with my witness.”

Larry’s looking around like he’s not sure what to do next, sweat running through his curly mullet.

“How about this,” Miss Granger says. “We take him to Midland Clinic, get him checked out, and then he’s all yours. It’s a ten-minute drive. You and Sherriff can come over as soon as you’re done here. Better safe than sorry.”

Larry’s nodding like one of those demented bobbleheads. “That seems reasonable enough to me.”

Greg gets right in Larry’s face. “If he takes off—”

“I don’t understand,” Miss Granger interrupts. “Is Clay under arrest?”

“Not yet, but—”

“Then I suggest you back off and let Larry do his job.”

Greg stands up straight as a cattail, like Miss Granger just threw a bucket of cold water in his face. But he steps out of the way.

“You’re doing the right thing.” Miss Granger pats Larry on the arm.

Larry cracks a dopey smile and then puffs out his chest as he pushes the gurney across the field, toward the ambulance.

I spot two men, dressed all in black, standing against the fence, like a strand of those spooky paper dolls Noodle makes out of crepe paper. They’re dressed differently than they were before, none of that bling or weird hats, but I’d know their faces anywhere—the priests from All Saints.

Miss Granger gives them a tight nod as we pass.

Larry gets the gurney in the ambulance; Miss Granger climbs in with me.

“I’m just gonna phone ahead, tell them we’re on our way,” Larry says as he digs his cell phone out of his jacket and steps away.

I’m trying to say something, but it’s muffled by the mask. Miss Granger pulls it away from my face. “Get me out of here,” I gasp.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. This is our best option right now. Just stay calm.” She tries to hold my hand, but I clench it into a fist.

“Stay calm?” I push against the straps. “Are you fucking serious?” Tears sting the corners of my eyes when I think about Ben strung up there for everyone to see. I want to kill someone, I’m so pissed. “I’m not even sure I believe you anymore … if any of this is real. You said we could stop this. I did my part. What the hell have you done?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Oakmoor, or Mrs. Wilkerson, but this is very real. The second has fallen. Things are escalating a lot faster than I anticipated.”

“Is that why the priests are here? Are they here to do the exorcism?”

“They’re here because I needed them to see this with their own eyes. Ben’s death was clearly a direct message to the church. They can’t deny it now. This is exactly what we needed to happen in order to move forward with getting the exorcism sanctioned.”

“So you were just waiting for another one of them to die?”

“A small sacrifice for the greater good.”

“It’s not small. These were my friends … people I grew up with.”

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