Loss and Sacrifice Page 3

it up, he was met with force, as if something on the ground was holding it from beneath, but when he checked, he saw nothing but bare earth.

  Of the ground, he was happy to note that the earth was damp and rich with moisture in the mornings, which he assumed was due to dew. But as the days went by and the weather grew hotter, dew was not supposed to be of such great occurrence, and yet his ground was always damp with moisture. Not all of the ground, he discovered. Where one section was practically bogged down, another would be dry as a bone. Illogical, until Zachery picked up a handful of moist dirt in his hand and squeezed it. The dirt stained his hand red. Zachery told himself that the discolouration was simply a side effect of growing such a strange and bizarre crop, and went about his work without so much of a second thought.

  Two weeks after the initial planting, Zachery’s closest neighbour, another farmer named Nathaniel, came by. Unfortunately his visit was not to bear good news.

  Zachery first spotted him by the gate. Nathaniel had run all the way from his own land to deliver news of great importance and even declined the drink that he was offered.

  “What’s so terrible that you would decline a mug of ale?” Zachery asked him.

  “I’ve heard news from the farmlands to the north,” explained Nathaniel between gasps of breath. “A great plague of rats, unlike anything anyone has seen in decades, sweeping across the land, devouring all in its path.”

  “Surely you’re exaggerating.”

  “I am not, Zachery,” Nathaniel replied solemnly. “I’ve come to warn you because I know you’ve had a rough start to the season. I need to go and prepare my farm. I suggest you do the same.”

  With that he left, leaving Zachery to his own miserable thoughts.

  The spring had come late that year, and the rats, unable to find any food, had joined into one large mass that ran across the land from farm to farm, consuming everything they could find that was edible and leaving all in their path in ruins. Passersby spread stories of men and women who were eaten alive by the ravenous rodents as they slept, and though Zachery refused to believe such farfetched stories, he knew that the rats would do serious damage to his livelihood.

  Then came the day that Nathaniel’s farm was attacked, and reports came down to Zachery that the plague was moving towards his farm, and would arrive within the next few days. There was nothing that he could do, the crop could not be uprooted, and despite Danniella’s insistence on killing every rat she saw wander into the fields, they could not stop the plague in any way.

  “There has to be something we can do,” said Danniella as they ate supper.

  “If there was, I’m sure the lords of the lands would have done something by now,” said Zachery.

  Danniella was not happy by the answer. “The lords!” she scoffed. “They take our food and stuff their faces all year long. But when we need them, all they do is pack their bags and run away! They don’t care about us.”

  Zachery sighed. “There are times, Danniella, when all we can do is hope for the best,” he said gently. “Sleep easy tonight, and tomorrow we’ll worry about the future.”

  “If we have a future.”

  Despite his own advice, Zachery could not rest at all that night. He lay in his bed wondering if the powers that be intended for him to always be miserable. He thought he could hear the sound of squeaking, and of tiny jaws quickly feasting upon his hard work drifting up from his fields, but he dismissed it as his imagination. Eventually he fell asleep, and did not heed the loud shrieks of pain that only a rodent could make.

  For the next few days, Zachery and Danniella waited anxiously. But the plague never came. Instead, the whole crop was suddenly imbued with a growth spurt and doubled in size dramatically. The ground was somewhat wetter than usual, but Zachery assumed that was part of how the plants grew.

  A week passed, and still the plague never showed. All around the farmlands, men and women waited for the terrible stream of destruction to arrive, but it never appeared. No one knew where it had gone. The plague had just... disappeared.

  And on Zachery’s farm the crops grew better than ever.

  As the time for harvest grew near, Zachery and his daughter spent as much time as possible making sure the crop grew perfectly.

  Zachery had been walking through the field, admiring the rich green stems of corn that were now taller than he was, when he discovered the skeleton. He had stooped over to once again pick up Sydney the scarecrow when he noticed something white sticking from the ground.

  Curious, he dug into the earth with his hands, noting that it was again wet and left red streaks on his skin. The thing in the ground was long and pale, and as he pulled it upwards he felt something below move awkwardly.

  He gave a shallow gasp as he realised he was holding a long bone, and dug deeper. As if to heed his actions, the earth began to shift unnaturally, allowing him to pull out the rest of the skeleton.

  At one time it had been a fox, a large one. Now all that was left were bleached bones, completely devoid of all flesh. Its lifeless skull stared upwards, almost accusingly, at Zachery.

  Zachery tried to tell himself that the animal had died in his field naturally, but at the back of his mind he knew he was only fooling himself. Suddenly he saw everything with clarity: the wet earth, the scarecrow...

  On a whim, he dug deeper into the hole he had made and found what he was dreading. More bones. He could identify some: dogs, birds, and of course rats.

  It made sense to him in a sick way. The crop was not natural, he had always known that. But he had not realised just how unnatural. Though it looked like corn, the plant was nothing like its normal kin. It needed live flesh to sustain itself. That was why it had always pulled down the scarecrow, because it had wanted the birds to come down. And the plague of rats had arrived, ironically instead of feasting on the plants, they had been eaten themselves.

  The ground was wet because it was saturated with blood.

  Zachery stood up in disgust. Everywhere he looked he thought he could see bones. The plants would let him see now, because that was what he wanted, and because they were loyal to him...

  He turned and ran back to the house wondering what foul thing he had allowed to grow on his land.

  At once he told Danniella not to go into the fields anymore, at least, not alone. He did not know just how far the crop’s “loyalty” would spread.

  “Why?” Danniella was confused. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Zachery replied too quickly. “But the crop is becoming very temperamental.”

  “I’ve helped with the harvest before, I know how to...” The expression on her father’s face silenced her.

  “Please, just do it,” he told her.

  Naturally, Danniella was concerned for her father’s behaviour, and against her better judgement followed his wishes. She only went to the fields whenever Zachery would allow, and even then he would not allow her far from his side. Soon her initial misgivings about the crop returned.

  She watched her father’s behaviour closely. He began to act recklessly, not bothering to care for his crop the way a wary farmer would. Often he would leave the crops unwatered for days, and the scarecrow had long since been abandoned and left unnoticed on the ground, lost amidst the tall corn. Though she was worried, Danniella held her tongue, trusting that her father knew what he was doing.

  When harvest was only a week away, Danniella could no longer control her curiosity, and went to the field alone to see what her father was so alarmed at. She walked through the fields, listening to the sound of leaves rustling in the wind. It was so peaceful. The corn towered well over her head, and she thought to herself that if she were to get lost in such a maze, no one would find her.

  The crop seemed strong and tall, despite the neglect Zachery had bestowed onto it. Carefully, Danniella took a hold of one giant stem and bent the crop downwards for examination. She gently pulled away the leaves, taking care as to not damage them, and inspected the ear of the corn closely.


  To her surprise, the corn was not a rich yellow. Instead, it was a dark, blood red. The plant appeared healthy, but never had she seen a type of corn like this. Were the other plants the same?

  Danniella released the plant and made a careful survey of the surrounding ones. The next three were the same, blood red. The fourth was red, but she could easily see that it was slowly changing colour, lightening into a shade of yellow.

  She let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps the crop would all change in time. She decided to take one more examination, and pulled down another plant. As she parted the leaves surrounding the ear, her blood ran cold.

  Inside the plant, where normally a bulbous ear of corn would grow, there was foetus. It was large, obviously near birth, and curled into a ball. An umbilical cord ran from its navel and attached to the stem of the plant, and its skin was slick with clear, reddish fluid that ran out onto her hands. Danniella looked down in horror and disgust. The thing was obviously not human, its head was overly large and its hands ended with small pointed claws. Its face seemed almost... rodent like.

  Suddenly the thing squirmed uncomfortably, and Danniella released the plant with a cry. She felt trapped, surrounded by nearly endless walls of green. She wondered how many more plants held creatures waiting to be born, and decided to herself that even one was too many.

  She pulled the stalk of the corn downwards so that the ear