Read Online The Harvest Cycle by David Dunwoody - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David Dunwoody
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“It’s giving up, is what it is. I know you’re not willing to give up, Abe.”
Peter finished off the tequila and snorted. “Abe isn’t willing to do shit. He didn’t earn his gold, he took it from me-”
“Fuck you,” Abe snapped. He immediately regretted it and, returning to a furtive whisper, said, “We probably wouldn’t even make it off this floor. They might be right outside the door.”
“Help is coming eventually,” Erika offered. She was ignored.
Peter stumble-walked over to the bar and opened a pint of rum. “We don’t stand a chance anyway, not with the baby.”
Gayle clutched Emma to her chest, fixing a hateful glare on Peter. “My baby isn’t your problem, O’Connor.”
“It’s a liability for all of us,” Peter said with a shrug and a swig. “If that baby starts crying, we’re done. And you know she’ll cry if we make a run for it.”
“So leave us here, asshole!” Gayle retorted. Abe pressed a trembling finger to his lips.
“God,” Rafe said. “Look at this.”
He was peeking through the curtain again. Abe joined him, then Erika; they looked out across the rooftops and saw, perched on every corner like a gargoyle, one of the creatures. Heads bowed, claws dangling at their sides, they appeared to be asleep.
“Do you think they’re really sleeping?” Rafe asked. “Maybe they’re hibernating or something. Maybe they won’t-”
“They’d hear us,” Abe muttered. “Look, they’re not comatose. Their fingers are moving.”
Indeed, the translucent claws were gently swaying, clinking against one another; a faint sound like wind chimes reached Rafe’s ears. The others heard it too. Abe knitted his brow. “What...”
“They’re talking,” Erika gasped.
“How do you know that?” Scoffed Abe. “They are,” Erika insisted. “Look how their heads move when the music changes...ever so slightly.”
Music? Rafe hadn’t thought of it like that. But, as he listened more intently, it did seem like a gentle, lilting tune.
And just a little off-key...
“We have to run,” he said again. “I’m gonna go.”
“It’s getting dark,” Abe warned. Then he let out another, long sigh. “If we’re going to try this, we should wait until just before dawn. Assuming those things are still at rest, that is. If they’re not, I say we wait.”
“Fair enough.” Rafe patted Abe’s shoulder.
“And where are we running to?” Asked Erika. “The marina,” Rafe answered quickly.
“But they came from the ocean.”
“We’ll never make it on land. There’s no escape on this island.”
“What about the goddamn baby?” queried Peter.
“You don’t have to worry about us,” Gayle said quietly. “We’ll take care of ourselves.”
“Gayle-” Abe began. She silenced him with a shake of her head.
“Then we wait,” Erika said. She returned to her spot on the floor.
“You should stop drinking if you want half a chance,” Abe said to Peter. In response, Peter raised the bottle in his hand, as if in a toast, and tilted it over his lips.
Despite himself, Rafe was sizing up the others, guessing who’d make it and who wouldn’t. Peter was shaping up to be more of a liability than Gayle; but Rafe was convinced that neither would make it.
He studied Emma’s sleeping face. The corners of her tiny mouth were upturned in the slightest smile. Rafe wished for her blissful ignorance, for the comfort of dreams.
***
That night, he did dream.
He was surrounded by darkness, by a pressure that filled his head and weighed down his limbs. Then a soft blue light began to filter down from somewhere above.
He was underwater. Standing at the bottom of the ocean.
And something was coming out of
Peter finished off the tequila and snorted. “Abe isn’t willing to do shit. He didn’t earn his gold, he took it from me-”
“Fuck you,” Abe snapped. He immediately regretted it and, returning to a furtive whisper, said, “We probably wouldn’t even make it off this floor. They might be right outside the door.”
“Help is coming eventually,” Erika offered. She was ignored.
Peter stumble-walked over to the bar and opened a pint of rum. “We don’t stand a chance anyway, not with the baby.”
Gayle clutched Emma to her chest, fixing a hateful glare on Peter. “My baby isn’t your problem, O’Connor.”
“It’s a liability for all of us,” Peter said with a shrug and a swig. “If that baby starts crying, we’re done. And you know she’ll cry if we make a run for it.”
“So leave us here, asshole!” Gayle retorted. Abe pressed a trembling finger to his lips.
“God,” Rafe said. “Look at this.”
He was peeking through the curtain again. Abe joined him, then Erika; they looked out across the rooftops and saw, perched on every corner like a gargoyle, one of the creatures. Heads bowed, claws dangling at their sides, they appeared to be asleep.
“Do you think they’re really sleeping?” Rafe asked. “Maybe they’re hibernating or something. Maybe they won’t-”
“They’d hear us,” Abe muttered. “Look, they’re not comatose. Their fingers are moving.”
Indeed, the translucent claws were gently swaying, clinking against one another; a faint sound like wind chimes reached Rafe’s ears. The others heard it too. Abe knitted his brow. “What...”
“They’re talking,” Erika gasped.
“How do you know that?” Scoffed Abe. “They are,” Erika insisted. “Look how their heads move when the music changes...ever so slightly.”
Music? Rafe hadn’t thought of it like that. But, as he listened more intently, it did seem like a gentle, lilting tune.
And just a little off-key...
“We have to run,” he said again. “I’m gonna go.”
“It’s getting dark,” Abe warned. Then he let out another, long sigh. “If we’re going to try this, we should wait until just before dawn. Assuming those things are still at rest, that is. If they’re not, I say we wait.”
“Fair enough.” Rafe patted Abe’s shoulder.
“And where are we running to?” Asked Erika. “The marina,” Rafe answered quickly.
“But they came from the ocean.”
“We’ll never make it on land. There’s no escape on this island.”
“What about the goddamn baby?” queried Peter.
“You don’t have to worry about us,” Gayle said quietly. “We’ll take care of ourselves.”
“Gayle-” Abe began. She silenced him with a shake of her head.
“Then we wait,” Erika said. She returned to her spot on the floor.
“You should stop drinking if you want half a chance,” Abe said to Peter. In response, Peter raised the bottle in his hand, as if in a toast, and tilted it over his lips.
Despite himself, Rafe was sizing up the others, guessing who’d make it and who wouldn’t. Peter was shaping up to be more of a liability than Gayle; but Rafe was convinced that neither would make it.
He studied Emma’s sleeping face. The corners of her tiny mouth were upturned in the slightest smile. Rafe wished for her blissful ignorance, for the comfort of dreams.
***
That night, he did dream.
He was surrounded by darkness, by a pressure that filled his head and weighed down his limbs. Then a soft blue light began to filter down from somewhere above.
He was underwater. Standing at the bottom of the ocean.
And something was coming out of
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