The Last Harvest(45)

“What are we doing out here?”

“Thought this would be a good place to talk,” Tyler says as he goes to the back of his car and opens the trunk, pulling out a big black duffel bag. “Maybe blow off a little steam.”

I don’t know what’s in that bag, but it can’t be good.

Tyler eyes me. “Sure are nervous, Tate.”

I pull my damp hair back from my face and scan the grounds. I’m looking around for a witness, but it’s deserted. I wonder if they’d ever find my body out here. “You know, everyone saw me leave school with you.”

“Yeah … I made sure of that,” Tyler says as he dumps the duffel at his feet with a dull thud.

“Seriously, Tate.” Ben stands next to Tyler, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re the ones who should be scared of you.”

“Me?” I balk.

Tammy and Ali close ranks and that’s when it dawns on me—they think I had something to do with Jimmy’s death.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I exhale. “Is that what this is all about? You seriously think I did that?”

“No.” Ben wrinkles up his nose. “But someone must’ve made him do it. Someone he was scared shitless of.”

“And you think that was me?”

“All I know is it took five of us to pull you off him.”

“We all wanted to kill him,” I say, in my defense.

“Then where were you that night?” Tyler steps toward me. “’Cause we know you didn’t go home.”

“Oh yeah?” I square my shoulders. “And how would you know that?”

Tammy nudges Ali.

“I went to your place after the Harvest Festival,” Ali says, her voice soft, her eyes full of sympathy. “I waited for you all night.”

“Just to talk,” Tyler adds through gritted teeth.

“And Nick, up at Merritt’s?” Ben clears his throat. “He said you came in all agitated. Said you were bustin’ his balls over some girl and then took off into the woods, left your truck there till morning.”

“Look.” I let out a deep sigh. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I had a run-in with the Wiggins kid.”

They all look at each other, an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air.

“I’m not a meth head, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s personal—has to do with Jess. He was waiting for me when I came out of Merritt’s. Hit me in the back of the head with a two-by-four, knocked me out cold.” I bend my head down so they can look.

Tammy steps forward to inspect. “There’s nothing there,” she whispers.

“What?” I lurch to Tyler’s car, tilting the side mirror. “It must’ve already healed,” I say as I run my fingers over the base of my skull.

“Or it never happened.” Tyler stares me down.

“You think I’m lying?” I advance on Tyler and Ali steps between us.

“Clay, we know about what you thought you saw at the breeding barn,” Ali says. “We know about the calf. We know you’ve been seeing things.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I say as I pace the dirt.

“When Sheriff came to talk to us—”

“Wait … did you tell him I wasn’t home?”

“Hell no.” Ben juts his head back. “We didn’t tell him jack shit.”

“That’s what we’re trying to tell you,” Ali says. “You can trust us.”

“We’ve got your back.” Ben slams his hand on my shoulder. “You’re one of us now.”

“You don’t understand.” I pull away from him and continue pacing the lot. “There’s a lot more going on here.”

“Like what?” Tammy asks.

“Like Jimmy. Jimmy wasn’t himself. You saw … you saw his eyes. They were black. Pure black. And he was saying all these creepy things about the seed—”

“They were both high as kites.” Tyler raises a brow.

“The thing is, no one would even blame you if you told him to do it.” Ben rubs the back of his neck. “What happened with your sister … what Jimmy did was way out of line.”

“It’s not like that,” I say, completely exasperated. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then tell us,” Tyler says. “Tell us how it is.”

Ali steps toward me. “Please … help us understand. Because we’re trying.”

“You’re trying? Trying to what?”

“We’re trying to protect you, Clay. But we have to know the truth.”

“The truth?” I say with a hysterical chuckle. “You want to talk truth? Okay … then tell me about the marks … the brand. I know you all have one. And I know what it means.”

“What, this piece of crap?” Ben laughs as he pulls up the leg of his Wranglers. “When we all stepped up to the council, we thought we’d get tattoos, for the Preservation Society—”

“But Ali’s afraid of needles.” Tammy rolls her eyes.

“So we figured a brand might be good,” Ben continues. “If it’s good enough for the OU football team, it should be good enough for us.” Ben gives the upside-down hook-’em-horns sign.