The Last Harvest(75)

“I’m going to make this right, Jess.”

I lie back on her bed, staring up at the handful of glow-in-the-dark stars I put up for her ninth birthday. She wanted to be able to wish on a star whenever she felt like it.

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight,

I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.”

I close my eyes.

Just for a minute, I tell myself.

A low sizzling sound accompanied by a warm glow is coming from the window. I walk toward it, staring out over the burning wheat. A repulsive charred stench lingers in the air. The flames form a perfect circle. Inside, there’s a girl with reddish hair, her lithe, naked body bathed in eerie green light.

Noodle slips her hand in mine. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she says as the flames engulf the girl’s body. “This is all for the chosen one.”

We stand there, watching her burn.

And I feel nothing.

*

I WAKE in Jess’s bed, covered in a cold sweat, to find the decrepit baby doll lying next to me, her dead eyes glinting in the early-morning light.

A disgusted rage fills me; I grab the doll by its neck, flinging it out the window.

I’m leaning against the frame, taking in huge gulps of fresh air when I see Hammy pick up the doll in his teeth.

“Leave it, Hammy,” I holler at him.

He stares up at me, like he’s looking at a ghost, and then buries it at the edge of the wheat.





49

IT’S FRIDAY. Game day.

I get Noodle on the bus and make arrangements with Mrs. Gifford to sit with her after school until I get home.

On my way to Midland High, I stop at Merritt’s to fill up the tank, but it’s really just an excuse to look for Jess. I know I promised Sheriff I wouldn’t go out to the trailer park, but he didn’t say anything about the old campgrounds. The thing is I’m not even mad anymore. Just worried. I don’t want Jess getting hurt. If Lee decides to share that little story with her, it could scar her for life.

I hike out into the pines, calling her name. Every insect scrabbling over the pine straw puts me on edge. Lee could be anywhere out here and this is his turf. For all I know, this place could be booby-trapped.

I come up on the old campgrounds, just a handful of busted-up cabins. I peek inside. They reek of mold and animal droppings and other things I don’t even want to think about.

I come to a big twelve-foot-diameter circle of fresh upturned soil. It reminds me of the circle in my dream last night, only there’s twine dividing it up, like a geometric puzzle. Maybe sectioned off for a garden.

I step over the twine to get a closer look at the pile of trash in the center of the circle, but the more I look at it, the more deliberate it seems, as if the items have been placed here with great care. I rub my arms, but it’s not the chill in the air giving me goose bumps. There’s a pair of gloves on the handlebars of a little kid’s bike, an elaborate men’s belt buckle with a bull on it, clumps of dirty hair stuck in the ground, a jar of deerflies, and a Bible open to Genesis 4:12. I know that verse. That’s the story of Cain and Abel.

“Lee,” I whisper. This is all his doing. A sick feeling twists inside me. I stagger back out of the circle, nearly tripping over the twine. This isn’t trash at all, but some kind of f*cked-up shrine to my family. The gloves are covered in dried blood—they’re the same gloves that went missing when I discovered the calf. The bike is Noodle’s. I’ve been looking for that thing for over a year. The jar of flies—he must be the one who’s putting them in the house. And the belt buckle belongs to Dad. That’s his 1982 rodeo championship prize. One of a kind. The same one we buried him in.

I make it to the edge of the woods before I get sick, and when I look up again, I can see the twine isn’t some random puzzle. The circle’s been roped off to form a six-pointed star. A pentagram.

Lee’s the one who’s been orchestrating all this. Not Tyler. It’s beyond blackmail at this point; it’s personal. He wants my family to suffer for what Dad did to him. But I’m not putting Jess at risk to protect Dad’s secret. To protect our legacy. Dad ruined that when he stepped out on Mom. Then again, we were ruined a long time before that. When our ancestors sold us out for land. For this. I grab a handful of soil and throw it as hard as I can.

I hear a rustle, something snap in the pines. I whip around but there’s no one there. Could be an owl, or an old branch, or it could be something a hell of a lot worse than that.

As I’m hauling ass back to my truck, I dig my phone out of my pocket and call Sheriff Ely.

He doesn’t pick up; I leave a message.

“I went out to the campground looking for Jess. I know, I know, but there’s something you need to see out there. And I think you may need to check Dad’s grave, too. By the way, Lee is my half-brother. Just found out yesterday and I guess now you know why he and Jess shouldn’t be together. Find her for me and I’ll do something for you. Put all your money on Midland tonight.”





50

AS I pull into my spot at the back of the lot, it looks like a scene right out of some cheesy high school movie, not the center of some doomsday prophecy.

Everyone’s decked out in red and black, the pep girls are out in full force—their soft bodies, easy smiles, ripe for the taking. Not that I ever would, but most of them make it clear they’d do anything for the team. Sometimes I think it would’ve been better that way, just to get it over with, but even now, with everything that’s going on, I look at Ali waiting for me by Tyler’s car, and I know why I haven’t done it. I feel it all the way to my bones. I want Ali to be my first … and my last. That much I’m sure of. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure we get that opportunity.