The Harvest (Book 1) (7 page)

This gave her an idea. She found her way to the kitchen, where a brief search yielded exactly what she needed, a fire extinguisher. She returned to the sitting room and promptly extinguished the fire. “Problem solved.” She announced, satisfied. As if a fire extinguisher was all it took to rectify the day’s problems. As far as she was concerned, any action at this moment was preferred to no action at all and Madison was a girl of action, not reaction. She didn’t have the patience for it. A trait, or flaw, her mother berated her for from kindergarten to college graduation and beyond.

Despite her mother’s constant nagging, Madison remained head strong and impatient. She always read the last pages of a book first, only read movie reviews that included spoilers, finished people’s sentences if they dallied to long, and the list went on. Call it what you like, but her major character flaws saved her life more times than one, plus earned her each and every award tacked to her office wall. Of course on the flip side of all that glory was her recent updated status, or downgraded depending on the perspective, from engaged to single. A thorn she couldn’t extract no matter how her mom or sister justified why it happened.

Thorns aside, Madison needed a plan, but what in the hell was she supposed to do faced with her current circumstances? Her shoulders sag uncharacteristically, and for the first time in a long, long time she felt lost. She absently wandered over to the French doors and leaned on the Cadillac. As she stared out through the broken doors, the falling snow soon mesmerized and dulled her thoughts. The first evidence to the contrary and supporting the tow truck driver’s dooms day prediction that fell to the ground went unnoticed. When a second and third object came plummeting from the sky, Madison stood up and took notice.

5 EVE

Cheyenne, Colorado

Eve drifted up the road leading to the entrance of Cheyenne Mountain. She didn’t feel the biting wind or the ice as it pelted against her bare skin. Weak and disoriented from the prolonged occupation, her movement was driven by sheer will alone.

The sweet smell of blood, carried by the wind, drifted past her. She stopped in the middle of the road and titled her head back to catch the tantalizing scent. Dropping her head she gazed up the road at the two armed men guarding the entrance. Behind them she could see many more armed men approaching the gate. They were coming for her.

Her feet moved on their own accord while her mind fought against the urge to attack, to feed, to strengthen her body. The voice spoke to her, reminding her that these sacrifices were necessary to secure her future. The sacrifices she’d made and the one she was about to make. Stay strong for a while longer; the voice encouraged her onward, soothing her hunger pangs.

When the guards ordered her to stop, she kept walking. She raised her hands, palms out, and pushed. This motion sent an invisible force wave hurling towards the guards. The impact knocked them to the ground and tore the gates off the hinges. The other guards opened fire. Bullets whizzed by and through Eve, who had stopped walking to wait for the men to realize the futility of shooting at her. 

When the firing ceased, Eve knelt down hands raised in the air. The men approached. When they placed the metal shackles around her wrists she remained compliant. She allowed them to lead her blindfolded into the mountain. When they removed the cloth from her eyes she found herself inside a glass cage.

She stood in her cell unaffected for them all to stare and gawk at her, to wonder what she was and where she’d come from. That they could sense she was dangerous came as no surprise to her for she thought all species possessed this natural ability. It would surprise her to know how unaware most humans were of their own self preserving mechanism. Something she relied on like air to breathe for it was all she had to rely on, that and the voice.

For as long as Eve could remember she’d been the only one of her kind. She’d no concept of where she came from or even how long she had existed. She’d walked the Earth observing mankind in all his glory and degradation. As a general rule she avoided humans. Years, sometimes decades, would pass where she had no direct contact with them, other than when necessary for survival.

If solitude to this extent was not normal it didn’t matter to her nor was it ever considered by her as a state of being. It just was. She’d always accepted everything as so, allowing the presence to be her guide. The voice she thought to be familiar, but unsure if the intimacy was due to repetition or because she truly remembered hearing the voice spoken from the lips of a living being.

It was the voice that had told her to travel to Deadbear, Alaska, where she’d found a human unlike any other. Although having occurred many years ago, the image of the boy being pulled from the icy waters remained vivid in her mind. She’d watched from her hiding place as the medics worked on him. Their initial attempts to revive him proved futile and he was pronounced dead, but she could hear his blood coursing through his veins. You’re not dead, she remembered thinking.

His body jerked forward as if obeying her thoughts. He coughed and spit up water for several minutes before the medics wrapped him in blankets and loaded him into the back of the ambulance. They’d conversed amongst themselves how a miracle had saved him. She’d heard this word before, but didn’t know what it meant, other than it had caused humans to live, to which she’d concluded miracles must be like medicine.

From the start the boy’s blood intrigued her and for all the memories she had, which were few despite her years, she couldn’t recall another human being having that effect on her. The novelty, and the curiosity his scent created, kept her in Deadbear.

It wasn’t long before she revealed herself to him, feeling compelled to do so even before the voice told her it was safe. To her amazement he introduced himself, displaying none of the usual signs of fear so common place with his species. One of their many weaknesses, which made them easy prey. That Austin was never intended as prey or that he knew her name never struck her as out of the ordinary. It just was. Over the months that followed he became her companion, although she would argue the dynamics of their relationship was not friendship.

In a blink she’d spent an entire year in Deadbear, keeping company with Austin and out of sight from the small Deadbear population. The lack of food made the logistics of feeding more difficult, but not impossible. For her safety she made an effort to travel away from Deadbear whenever the need or desire grew too strong.

Making her stay more tolerable and prolonged had been the realization that she could communicate with Austin. At first she entertained him with glimpses of the future, later she used her power to manipulate him into doing her will. That he considered her his friend didn’t matter, guilt and remorse were foreign to her.

Prior to Deadbear, the drive for survival had always dictated her every move, but Austin had changed that, her decisions became unclear for the first time ever. Exacerbating the situation was the voice often chose to be silent, refusing to answer her questions or provide advice. On many occasions she felt befuddled as if walking about in a fog.

This lack of clarity kept her from telling Austin of his father’s impending demise. But she had fully expected him to be thrilled knowing the monster was gone from his life. Austin’s reaction towards her afterwards was unexpected and confusing. He’d shut her out of his mind, out of his life, directing all of his pain and anger at her. She’d thought he blamed her for his father’s death, but in truth the old man was all he had, and in his child’s mind this was better than not having anyone.

On that occasion the isolation of her existence had suffocated her, had silently crept into her world and inflicted upon her an indescribable feeling of pressure in her chest, the sensation of someone squeezing the life from her. If she had described this feeling to Austin, he would have understood.

Not knowing what else to do, she escaped her discomfort by retreating to Northern Siberia, a place more remote than Deadbear. A place she was sure to not find a single human being. There she remained for months, starving her mind and body until her will once again belonged solely to her. She’d triumphed over the longing, forcing the desire for Austin’s companionship from her. From then on she vowed to pursue only those things primal to her survival.

All this was a long time ago and such pursuits no longer mattered in her current state of captivity. She rolled off the narrow bed and stood up inside her prison. A square glass box that hung suspended from the ceiling inside an expansive empty room. The walls of the room were made of concrete that never stopped perspiring. Massive concrete pillars held up the solid granite ceiling above.

Men she’d managed to avoid for centuries had been allowed to capture her for reasons she did not understand, despite it being her decision to be caught. Not all things she decided were done so by her own free will. Instinct drove her to act or react in a manner that, in the end, always secured and to some great degree guaranteed her survival. She considered her instincts and the voice to be interchangeable, one in the same, for more accurate words never came to mind.

She looked out across room at the heavy metal door, the only way in or out of the room. The general was coming to visit and he was bringing a meal. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath through her nostrils. Her nose crinkled. Her eyes snapped open. The sniveler, his scent undeniable, was coming as well. She despised the sniveler more than any human she’d ever encountered and upon her departure she planned to discover if he tasted as sweet as he smelled.

The door opened. She could see the general held a plastic bag containing dark red liquid. Her vena sera. The scent permeated into the box making her mouth go dry from longing. He waited too many days between feedings, to the point she felt light headed, but she always stood steady before them. She hated being weak. She hated them seeing her weak, but they had no idea her strength, having found her in a similar state and perpetuating that state by too few feedings.

General Roth, followed by Captain Chase, walked up to the glass box eyeing the creature inside with open curiosity. Her eyes, like black holes in the universe, were impossible to read. She’d displayed no indication of emotion or cognitive thought. With her ink black hair cut close to the scalp, barely noticeable breasts and skinny frame, she looked more like a young boy. Although her anatomy was that of a human female, Roth found nothing remotely feminine about her, yet the way she moved, like a lioness stalking its prey, was as disturbing as it was seductive.

“Good morning.” The general waited for a response, but none came. He sighed. They’d been trying for over a month now to communicate with her, but still saw no signs of intelligence. The only thing she seemed to understand was feeding time. Roth held up the bag. Her nostrils flared and he thought her finger twitched, but couldn’t be certain.

“It must be hungry.” Captain Chase commented, not caring one way or another. If it had been up to him the abomination would have starved to death.

“Don’t talk.” Roth ordered. He had noticed after reviewing the surveillance video over and over again, she did not like Chase. The signs of her dislike were so subtle, he had overlooked them the first fifty times he watched the footage. Video that, at first view, appeared to be of her sitting or lying down, motionless for hours upon hours. He’d poured over the videos, every minute detail and knew better.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Roth held up the bag and walked over to a small revolving door that was on one wall of the enclosure about four feet up. She followed Roth. He punched in a code and the door on his side slid open. He pulled a needle attached to a vile from his pocket, and placed it on the tray. The door slid closed opening again on the inside “I need another sample.” He looked into her eyes, something as a rule he tried to avoid, but he wanted to be certain she understood.

She stared at the vile, not picking it up, and looked out at the general. Behind her blank dead stare she was wondering what the general might taste like. She knew because of the disease in his blood that he would probably be more bitter than sweet. She cast her gaze down onto the sniveler. His blood, however, would be very sweet, but that was the way his type always tasted. Without looking, she took the vile from the tray and jammed the needle into her leg drawing a bluish black liquid from her veins. Once filled, she placed it back on the tray.

“Thank you.” Roth replied, relief obvious in his tone. He thought he might have to re-teach the process to her. A task arduous enough the first few times around, but one he hoped she’d learned by now.

“Can we go?
It
creeps me out.” Chase sniveled.

“I think she feels the same about you.” Roth commented, watching her for a reaction. There was none. Disappointed, he placed the plastic bag in the tray. When the door opened on her side, she didn’t lunge for the bag, or snatch it up, tearing it open as a starving person might do once they’ve been given food. Rather, using care she picked the bag up, walked to her bed, sat down and waited.

Roth knew her habit was to wait for several minutes after his departure before taking a sip. No matter how long he went without feeding her, this was always, without the slightest deviation, her routine. Today appeared to be no different.

She held the bag against her frigid skin and found by doing this for several minutes brought the temperature down to a palatable level. The blood felt warm to the touch, more so than usual, which indicated freshness. It amused her knowing the general assumed she was shy or embarrassed. He would not have thought it so amusing to know these were feelings she was incapable of experiencing. She was relieved to see Roth and the sniveler were leaving.

Roth glanced back at her once before closing the door behind him, thinking he might catch her in the act, but she hadn’t moved from her spot. He shrugged, letting the air out of his lungs and stiffness from his shoulders. At times he almost agreed with Captain Chase. Maybe they should let her starve to death. After all, she’d offered up nothing to give him reason to believe she had any useful abilities or even average intelligence, which was disheartening to say the least.