The Harvest by N.W. Harris Page A

deer, nosing around in the underbrush for a snack.
Scanning its hoofs, he was relieved to see they weren’t stained
with blood. Shane tried to remember how he used to enjoy seeing
deer in their natural habitat, doing what they did when no one was
around.
    Staring at the animal, he started to convince
himself to ignore the irrational fears. But then the animal made
him think about Aaron. A rush of grief obliterated his calm. Damn death . He missed his best friend. Before, he’d hated
the idea of killing such a pretty creature, and always got nauseous
when Aaron or Steve bragged about one of their hunting trips. But
now, he’d be glad to see a thousand deer die if he could get his
friends and family back.
    The doe raised her head, as if sensing the
eruption of his inner turmoil. She looked past him, stiff, with her
ears perked and trained up the hill. He held his breath, worried
she might try to leap on him. Lifting her head higher, she seemed
to pick up a sound he couldn’t perceive. In a flash of chestnut,
the doe darted through the trees, flagging her white tail. The
report of her pointed hoofs piercing the leaf litter receded until
all evidence of her presence vanished.
    Shane kept perfectly still, wondering what
he’d done to startle her. Did she pick up on his anxiety over
remembering Aaron’s death? He’d heard dogs and horses could sense
human emotion, but he never suspected wild animals had the same
ability. A noise behind him solved the mystery. It was a delicate
sound, seeming to come from two feet and not four. The only animal
who made that sort of noise in the woods was a human, though the
person was moving with the stealth of a prowling cat.
    Hoping whoever walked down the hill behind
him would find their own place of solitude and not discover his,
Shane kept still and didn’t look back. The birds and the squirrels
grew silent, wary of the new trespasser. In that moment, he felt
like one of them, wanting to dart up a tree and hide until the
human passed and the wild symphony could crescendo once again.
    “Shane?” Kelly’s honeyed voice carried
through the trees, timid, like she worried he may not want to be
disturbed.
    “Yeah.” He twisted on the log and saw her
fifteen yards up, peering between the thick trunks. He was awash
with relief. It didn’t bother him that she’d followed. “Come on
down and sit for a spell.”
    More adept at walking quietly in the forest
than he would have ever expected, she made her way to his log. He
helped her climb on. After sitting, she inched closer until she
pressed against him and then stared off into the forest, perhaps
sensing he didn’t come out here for conversation.
    They sat hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder,
neither saying a word. The animals resumed their song, growing
accustomed to the new visitor. Shane’s pulse kicked up to a gallop,
this time not because of fear of the animals.
    “I love the woods,” Shane stammered, trying
to control his excitement at being alone and so near to her. He
wished he could be cool and suave like the dudes he’d seen in the
movies, but he could barely think.
    “I used to,” she replied. “It used to make me
feel closer to God when I was in the forest.”
    “Yeah.” It was something Granny would say. No
wonder he liked Kelly so much. “What’s wrong now?”
    “Guess I’m weirded out by the animals.” She
glanced around, her eyes wide with concern. “I don’t think I’ll
ever be able to look at them the same.”
    “Don’t worry, Kelly,” he said, grabbing her
hand. “That was all because of the limbic manipulator.” He didn’t
let on that he’d been thinking the same thing, wanting to be strong
for her.
    “I know,” she said, looking at him bashfully.
“It’s just hard to forget what I saw. That horrible day when it all
started—it’s like the images are always there in my mind, waiting
for me to blink or go to sleep so they can torment me.”
    He pushed the hair out of her face and