The Last Harvest(91)



The priests.

“Eight will be a grave mistake.”

Sheriff Ely.

“The ninth will be for goodness’ sake.”

Miss Granger.

“The final one to fall, the tenth will be the one to bind them all.”

Ali. My sweet Ali.

*

NOODLE’S COUNTING song—it’s about the ten sacrifices. She made it up years ago. Is that how long she’s been one of them … preparing for this moment?

“I think I’ll call him Clay,” Noodle says as she swings around. The swoosh of her long blond hair brings me right back to that day in the fields—the day I ran over the golden calf with the combine. It was her … crouching low in the wheat. I saw blood on her hand that day, but she said it was a paper cut. She slit the calf’s throat and left it there. She whispered to me in my dreams, told me to plow the invitation into the crops … she was there before each one of them turned, before they killed themselves … at the Harvest Festival, the practice, the bonfire, the lake, the breeding barn. She drove Mom mad … pushed Jess into Lee’s arms.

Tears sear down my face.

“It’s you … you’re the chosen one,” I whisper, barely holding on to consciousness.

She turns and steps toward me, a sweet smile on her face.

“Rest easy, brother. The last harvest is finally over.”





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, I’d like to thank my editor Melissa Frain for going on this gruesome, bloody, and sometimes uncomfortable journey with me. She gave me the artistic freedom to explore every dark corner and brought a lot of tenderness to the story. I couldn’t be more grateful.

Seth Lerner is responsible for the gorgeous cover. Thank you.

Standing O for Amy Stapp, and everyone at Tor for embracing my weird, and making this such a joyful experience.

Special thanks to Josh Adams for making this love connection.

To my fearless agent, Jaida Temperly, and everyone at New Leaf, thank you for taking such good care of me.

I owe a huge amount of gratitude to my beta readers/friends, who gave me the encouragement I needed to tackle this story. April Tucholke, Virginia Boecker, Jasmine Warga, Rebecca Behrens, Jenn Marie Thorne, Lee Kelly, Erin Morgenstern, Bess Cozby, Veronica Rossi, Lauren Oberweger, Nova Ren Suma, Libba Bray, Maggie Hall, Jodi Kendall, and last but not least, my muse, Gina Carey, who inspired Noodle.

To my husband Ken, my partner, who listens to all my crazy ideas, props me up when I’m low, and cooks for me when the deadlines are looming.

To my parents John and Joyce, and my beloved sister Cristie, who answered every Oklahoma question with glee, even when she knew what the book was about.

To my daughter Maddie—thank you for all your love and support. The next book is for you.

I wrote The Last Harvest for my son Rahm—another strong, silent type. The idea for this book was sparked by one of our late night philosophical conversations. You are wise beyond your years and I’m so grateful that I get to be your mom. Keep seeking.

Finally, I’d like to thank Stephen King, Shirley Jackson, Ira Levin, and V. C. Andrews for warping my brain in the best possible way.

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