Free The Harvest Cycle by David Dunwoody Page B

a distant tugging at his skull, and tried to recall the last dream he’d had before this all began.
        He caught a sliver of memory, tried to wrap his mind around it, like a mother sheltering her child - but it was taken from him, along with everything else, as the creature sucked his brain through the back of his head.
        
    ***
        
        As twilight fell, the creatures assembled on the beach.
        Though it was early yet in the Harvest, they were done with the island. They began to walk, silently, into the evening tide. Tentacles sprouted from their backs, embracing one another; and their glazed eyes went dark before they hit the water.
        
    ***
        
        Amanda woke screaming. She didn’t think she’d ever stop. She didn’t want to. Every high-pitched scream blinded her to the visions of what Nightmare had wrought.
        
        
    8.
    Jabbawocky
        
        Cutter was at the wheel, Ira in the passenger seat. Lucy had gone back to sleep, leaving Hitch and West with Amanda.
        She told them everything she’d seen. Hitch shook his head, ignoring West’s pleading eyes. “Goddamn you.”
        “I didn’t mean for any of this,” West said. “You know that. I really thought you’d be all right, Mandy...I thought you were ready. I’m sorry.”
        “It’s not your fault,” she said. “I can’t keep Nightmare out of my head anymore. I reached out to it, remember?”
        “Don’t say that,” grumbled Hitch. “Of course it’s Mike’s fault. He pushed you. He shouldn’t have brought you out here in the first place-”
        “Stop, Richard!” Amanda snapped. She lay back, exhausted. “Just stop. I don’t want this to cause any more trauma than it already has. Just leave it alone.”
        “You really think I can do that?” Hitch muttered.
        “Take it up with me, then,” West said. “Let her rest.”
        “We’re a little confined in here, Doctor, in case you haven’t noticed.”
        “Then save it till later. You’ve got all the rest of your life to hate me.”
        “I don’t hate you,” Hitch sighed. “I hate this, all of this.”
        Amanda patted his hand. His instinct was to shrink away, but he didn’t.
        It was dark outside. Soon they’d reach Rushmore, then set up camp for the night.
        “Shit,” Cutter said. The van slowed. “What is it?” West asked, crawling up front.
        The headlamps illuminated a crude barricade of felled trees and concrete slabs. It stretched across the entire freeway, both lanes, blocking off the nearest exit as well, the one that said MOUNT RUSHMORE.
        “What the hell do we do now?” Cutter said.
        “We can go off-road for a bit if need be,” West said. “Dammit. Must’ve been erected during one of the early Harvests.”
        “Why? It wouldn’t stop the Harvesters, or the Others. Doesn’t make any damn sense.” Cutter’s eyes narrowed as he chewed it over. “We’re in trouble here, boss.”
        “Let’s just get around the barricade and back on the road. All right?”
        “Got a bad feeling about this,” Cutter replied, but nevertheless he pulled off across the shoulder and down a grassy incline, the headlights only providing a few yards of visibility. Beyond it was pitch black.
        “Grab me a gun, will ya?” Cutter asked. Ira stirred from sleep and looked out the windshield. “Where are we?”
        “Just taking a little detour. It’s fine,” West insisted. Cutter slapped his arm. “Gun.”
        “What are you afraid of?”
        “Cannibals. Undreamers. Who the hell knows? That roadblock was made to stop cars, boss. And look, I think there’s more shit up ahead in the grass.”
        And there was. Piles of rock threaded with barbed wire, leaving gaps too small for the van to get through. Cutter drove alongside them with a glare pinching his face. “How far