Luna's Arc

Chapter 20 of 29

The children stood in the swept yard, pale and silent, waiting for Luna to choose. Their mother, Harper, wiped her face and reached toward them all. Luna watched her hands. They shook, but they did not grab. They opened, palms up, the way you show a scared animal you hold nothing. Something loosened in Luna's chest. Her mother had cried in that old memory. Her mother had made the tape to warn them. Every locked door in this story led back to one truth. Harper had been trying to keep them alive. Luna did not understand the reason yet. She did not know what the harvest was, or who wanted them. But she knew enough. She dropped the wooden club in the dirt. She crossed the yard and threw her arms around her mother's waist. Harper gasped and folded over her, holding on hard. "Okay," Luna said into the purple cardigan. "We'll come with you. But I need to know why. I need more of my memories." "You will," Harper whispered. "I promise. Not here. We can't stay here." Luke ran up beside them. He wrapped both arms around Harper's legs and pressed his face against her jeans. He did not speak. He just held on, and his shoulders shook. Harper reached down and cupped his blond head with one hand while keeping the other tight around Luna. Harper straightened. She looked at the twenty dirty children watching from the yard's edge. "All of you," she said. "Stay close. Older ones, carry the little ones. We move now." The oldest Ghost Kid, tall and thin, lifted a small child onto his hip without a word. The others clustered behind him. They looked to Luna first, always Luna. She nodded. Then they followed. Harper led them into the trees behind the clean house, away from the yellow door. She moved fast for someone who had run for days. Luna kept Luke's hand in hers and stayed at her mother's shoulder. The woods were dark and full of small sounds. No one complained. Every child had learned that silence kept them alive out here. They walked for a long time. Then the trees broke open. A vehicle sat waiting in a small clearing. It was a school bus, but wrong. Metal plates covered its yellow sides. A heavy black grille guarded the front like a cage. The windows wore steel bars. It looked built to survive something. "Get them on," Harper said, yanking the door open. "Fast." The children climbed the steps. Luna pushed Luke up ahead of her, then stepped inside herself. The moment her hand touched the cold metal rail, her mind ripped open again. A memory poured in, sharp and whole. This same bus. Night. Harper at the wheel, driving hard, a dozen crying children in the seats behind. And a voice, her father's voice, low and afraid: “We need to hide the children. The harvest is coming. It’s time we bring them to Pineland forest.” While still barely a blip, now the connection between the harvest and Luna’s parents bringing them all to the forest is starting to make sense. The harvest must be on the move. What the harvest is exactly though, still remains a mystery.