Harvestland

THIRTY-SIX

Outside in the dark corridor, Noah pushed Sofia behind him as they backed into a corner, edged up against the wall before the open vestibule in the front of the house. He shielded her as he raised the gun and flashlight at the closed door of the bedroom.

"No, no..." Sofia was hysterical. "Brittany! We have to go back, Noah, we have to help her—"

He held her back. "Sofia, Sofia, she's dead, she's dead. I'm sorry."

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Convulsing in a teary-eyed fury, Sofia hit Noah over and over, pounding her fists on his back, his shoulders.

"No!" she cried. "You, you—this was your idea! You brought me here, you brought me into all of this! Brittany's dead—they're all dead because of you!"

"Sofia—quiet—"

But she sobbed. "How can..." She grabbed at the rosary draped over Noah's chest under his jacket. As she talked, she cried and spat and moaned: "How can you believe this? How could God do this? Tell me, goddamnit..." She faded off, weeping, shaking, breathing heavy.

"Sofia—"

"Fuck you!"

"Quiet—"

"There is no God!"

"Sofia!" He grabbed her rough, holding the gun with one hand now as he placed the flashlight under his arm and put his other hand over Sofia's mouth. He whispered in her ear: "This is not God. This is the devil. He's very real, and he's behind that door."

Sofia whined beneath his palm, struggling in his grasp. Her red cheeks were damp with tears.

"Look!" he said. "I need you to be quiet. When he comes out of that room he's dead. Now just stay behind me and stay quiet—can you do that for me?"

She calmed down, swallowed, nodded. He released her and again he shielded her behind him, returning a firm grip on the gun he kept trained on the door.

They waited.

Seconds passed and nothing happened.

They heard a momentary scuffle but it was followed by more silence.

"Where the fuck is he?" Sofia whispered.

Noah swallowed, waited a few more seconds, then whispered, "Hold this." He gave Sofia the flashlight. "Stay here and aim it at the door."

"But..."

"It's okay. Just stay right here."

She let him go and he inched slowly back down the hall toward the door. Sofia aimed the beam at the doorway. When Noah reached it he looked back at her and took a breath. She stood waiting at the edge of the hallway, seemed so thin and fragile against the murky obscurity of darkness around her. The thick shadows seemed to ripple like a gelatinous substance, threaten to swallow her whole, banish the light from her flashlight.

Noah looked back and pushed the door open. He swept the gun in all directions.

The shape was gone.

There were just the three dead bodies and their discarded pumpkin-heads. He backed out of the room and lowered the gun. He looked over at Sofia, her face open, waiting.

"He's gone," he said. He looked back into the room and noticed the planks across the window frame were missing. Wind blew into the room with a violent spray of rain.