Chapter Text
Things are…better. As best as they can be.
Which isn’t great. But Josh isn’t having anymore realistic nightmares about Tyler trying to kill him. So it’s a start. Instead he dreams about owls and crows and the pieces of bone he found in the fertilizer.
Harvest ends. Josh has been here…how many months now? At least half a year. With radio silence from his family, he feels closer to the Joseph’s than his own flesh and blood.
It’s starting to cool down a little. Still humid as hell, but at night it’s bearable. The sound of tractors and combines slowly starts to be replaced by cicadas and crows as the days progress.
Josh tries to stay outside as much as he can. It’s comforting, even if he’s sweating the second he steps foot out the door. It’s calming. He feeds the horses, checks on the cows. Tries to think about anything but Tyler laying out on the back deck with a popsicle in his mouth and his eyes locked on him.
Chris and Kelly are back. It means things need to be reeled in. They’re not dating. They’re not “married,” like Tyler wants them to be. It’s just…sex. Just sex. Josh isn’t going to live here forever. It’s just temporary. He’s gaining experience. He’ll go crawling back to the city, groveling to his parents about how right they were, and then curling up in his air conditioned bedroom with cable and internet.
The mere idea of it all makes him sick. But so does Tyler. Every day he doesn’t hear back from home makes him even more worried.
He finds himself wandering aimlessly. It helps sometimes. Maybe he sounds like a hippie, but he’s grown a lot closer to nature being here. More…appreciative for food, and where it comes from, and the labor it takes to harvest it.
He likes the way the chopped up cornstalks crush beneath his boot. There are a couple stray cows grazing. Josh knows there’s no way Tyler would allow Lola to join them. He’d kept such a close eye on everything she ate. Always making sure she had the best. The most.
Is Josh a bad person?
It’s lunch time. He should probably be heading back to the house. The sun is fucking hot, beating down directly on him. He can feel it through his hat, through his work shirt. Slowly sticking the fabric to him with sweat.
Something keeps him going though. Wandering. Searching. For what, he’s not sure.
He spies something across the fields. Standing very still. It’s not a human. It looks like a statue. So he stops, out of pure curiosity. Squinting through the unwavering heat.
What the hell?
Chris surely would’ve told him about scarecrows, right? He knows he’s never seen this one before. He’s actually never seen any scarecrows in the fields. Harvest is…nearly over, too. What would they even be protecting? It’s standing in nothing but churned up dirt and scraps of cornstalks.
Dressed like any normal scarecrow would be. Flannel, a straw hat, bits and pieces of hay poking through the clothes. There are crows perched on it, though. Unafraid. Almost mocking its existence. Josh tilts his head and sees something else.
Who would’ve thought that a scarecrow’s pose looks so similar to Jesus on the cross. Months ago he would’ve never made the connection. Does this make him devout now?
Something reeks the closer he gets. The slaughterhouse isn’t that close by, is it? God, it’s unbearable. Josh tugs his shirt over his nose. He should just leave it alone. Maybe it has meat on it to attract the crows or something. They’re omnivores, aren’t they?
Then he’s staring straight up at it and realizing that it’s not a scarecrow at all, and that his comparison to Jesus was a little too on the nose.
It’s a person strung up on this cross.
It takes Josh a good couple of seconds to realize who it is though. Through the initial shock, the disgust. The confusion. The blood rushing from his face.
That’s his fucking brother. That’s Jordan. Dead.
Josh sways where he stands. His head rushes. He can’t stop staring. Maybe he’s mistaken it for someone else. No. No. That’s him. He’d know his face anywhere, even decomposing in the Ohio heat. What the fuck?
Hung like a totem, arms nailed to boards and legs tied to the base. Rotting for God knows how long. Josh can barely even recognize the face. Where his eyes would’ve been are two gouged holes, oozing congealed blood that has since erupted itself from his mouth and nose as well. A knitted scarf lazily tries to cover up the gash in his throat. He’s too far into the stages of decomposition for this to have been fresh. Body bloated. Face swollen.
Josh vomits in the grass. The smell overwhelms him. He wants to cry, he wants to scream. The closer he gets, the louder the sound of buzzing flies becomes. Pieces of flesh and organs dripping down off the post and into the crops below. The wood is stained red. It’s an old body. Terribly old. How did he not see this? How the fuck did he not see this before?
Jordan. Jordan. He hadn’t seen him in so long. Now he’s dead. Do his parents know where he went? Did they send him here?
Josh gathers himself enough to stumble to the house, wiping bile off his chin. It’s sick. Fucking sick. And it sure as hell wasn’t an accident. This was targeted.
Chris is sitting at the dining room table, enjoying what looks like a bologna sandwich. Tyler is helping his mother with dishes and Josh is a fucking mess. He slams the back door open, doesn’t bother
“Josh, my goodness. You’re pale as a ghost, sweetheart. What’s happened?” Kelly doesn’t question his sudden appearance and instead rushes over, touching his forehead with the back of her hand.
Josh swallows, feeling woozy. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?” He blurts out, backing away from her.
There’s a wave of shock, of…distrust that ripples through the family.
“Josh,” Kelly soothes, “calm down, now. Tell us what happened.”
Tyler dries his hands off and slinks away, but not without catching Josh’s eye.
What do you know?
“There’s a fucking-my brother-is fucking dead, in YOUR field,” Josh chokes out. “You-you did this. You…” he’s ushered into a chair.
“Settle down, boy. Nothin’ good comes from all this overreactin’.”
He feels tears prick his eyes and really, really tries to keep it together. He still can’t believe it. His brother. Jordan. The last time he saw him was through his rearview window as he pulled out in his truck.
“In the fields,” he starts, running a hand over his face, “there’s a scarecrow. But it’s not a scarecrow. It’s a person-it’s my fucking brother.” He takes a shaking deep breath. “He’s dead. He’s dead.”
“I know there’s been some real troublemakers runnin’ around lately,” Kelly says with a huff, “they always do this, ‘specially ‘round Halloween. Could it be them?”
Is she stupid?
“I need to call the police.” Josh stands, ignoring her. “I’m-“ he remembers the lack of service. “I’m going to the police. I’ll just go, and-and tell them what happened and bring them here.”
Chris finally stands, wiping his hands on his work trousers. “Take me to where ya found him first.” He nods, and Josh gets up, leading him outside. He feels like he’s walking himself into a trap. A fucking trap.
It’s suffocating outside. Humid. Hotter than hell. Perfect weather for decomposition and bloat. Josh tries not to think about the flies that have already laid eggs inside of Jordan’s corpse.
This is the field that him and Tyler fucked in, he realizes. It’s too familiar.
It’s the corn maze.
Stalks chewed up by the tractor, it’s almost unrecognizable. If not for the stark circle of dirt in the middle where Jordan’s body stands tall. The crows stare down at them defiantly. Waiting. Daring them to touch what they’ve already claimed as theirs.
Chris stands and stares, hard-faced. “Been here a while,” he notes, wrinkling his nose at the flies.
Josh clenches his jaw. “I don’t even know how he found this place. Or how this…” he shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“Your guess’s as good as mine.” Chris adjusts the hat on his head. “Best if we don’t cause a stir, though.”
“What?” Josh almost laughs. “No. We need to call the police. I need to-to go home, God, I-“
“Listen, Josh.” Suddenly he’s very, very scared. “I’ve seen this sorta thing before. It leads to nothin’ but trouble. Evidence gets ruined, those damn cops tramp around like they own the place. Nothin’ ever gets solved. Buncha pigs.”
“This has happened before?” What the fuck?
Chris sighs. “Couple miles down. Family found their son like this.” He purses his lips. “Cops came in, arrested the father. Anyone coulda seen it wasn’t him. They just like havin’ someone responsible, even if it’s not true.”
Josh is swallowing down bile and just manages to choke out, “So. What are we going to do then?”
There’s a flash of pity in Chris’ eyes. It’s weird. To see him so…empathetic.
“I’m askin’ you, man-to-man.” He claps Josh on the shoulder. “I know it’s rough. I’m real sorry this even happened to ya. But for the sake of us, for yourself, we gotta take this into our own hands.”
Josh stares at the ground. “What about my family? My mom? Jesus…I don’t even know if she knows he’s gone.”
“You can call her, if ya need.”
Huh?
“I thought your landline was broken,” he says.
Chris shakes his head. “I fixed it a while ago. Guess I just forgot to tell you. That’s my bad.”
There’s a phone. A working phone. He can call the cops. Get the fuck out of here. Get Jordan out of here.
“Don’t do anythin’ rash,” Chris tells him last minute. Catches him by the arm HARD and squeezes.
He just nods. Maybe they didn’t do this, but there’s no way he’s going to argue when he’s seen Chris’ butchering skills. A man fiercely protective over his land. Maybe Jordan was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But to erect such a gruesome pillar of death? To turn him into something like this?
Focus, Josh. You’re not a detective.
He has to mourn within the five minutes it takes to get back to the house. Every emotion possible courses through him. He has to suck it up and seem normal, because if his mom thinks something’s wrong, what’s stopping her from coming over here and meeting the same fate?
Tyler’s gone. Kelly’s wringing the dish towel in her hands. “Oh, Josh,” she says, her voice thick with emotion for him. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
He’s wordless as he walks to the landline. His hands shake as he punches in the landline number. The phone rings once, twice. Three times.
“Hello?”
“Hey. Hi. Hi, mom,” Josh says, almost breathless.
“Oh my God! Hi Josh!” His mom says. God, he missed the sound of her voice. “It’s been so long since we’ve heard from you, hon. You haven’t replied to any of our letters.”
Letters?
Josh fakes a laugh. “Oh. They might’ve gotten lost in the mail,” he says, “I haven’t gotten anything out here.”
His mom sighs. “Well. Your brother just left for a road trip to see his girlfriend in Minnesota. Said he might swing by the farm and say hi to you. I don’t know if he had the right address though.”
Josh feels himself pale. “I haven’t see him. Must’ve been too excited to see her and skipped me.” He’s lying. Jordan is dead and he’s lying to his mom about it to protect a family he’s known less than a year. “It’s kind of hard to find us out here anyway.”
“Really? Hm. I haven’t heard from him in a bit. Maybe I should come out and visit you then,” she jokes.
“No, no, you don’t need to do that.” Josh laughs along with her but feels his fucking heart drop. “Don’t want you to get lost or anything.”
“All right, all right. I’ll call Jess anyway and see if he made it to her place, then. How are you doing otherwise? Having fun? Working hard?” Why did he ever leave?
“Yeah,” he says, “working hard. We just got done with harvest a little bit ago.” Somehow it feels like leaving his family was more of a mistake than a blessing.
“Oh wow. What did you harvest?”
“Just corn. Some beans. They get turned to feed for pigs and stuff. And the Joseph’s have a small sweet corn patch.”
“Fun. Is it just you and them there? No other farmhands?”
“Nah,” Josh lets out a breathless laugh. “Just me. Kelly and Chris, and their son Tyler.”
“Oh! They have a son? Do you two get along?”
You could say that. “Yeah. We’re pretty close now. He’s my age, so…”
“That’s nice. I’m glad you’ve got someone. Any girls?”
“Ha. No. No girls…” how the fuck am I supposed to tell you your son is dead? He clears his throat. “Okay, uh, sorry, mom, I have to go-“
“Oh, okay, okay. I’ll let you go, hon. I love you. Hopefully I’ll see you soon?”
Josh swallows thickly. “I love you too.”
The line goes dead. Kelly isn’t behind him anymore. Where she went, or when she left, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t really care. Why did it have to be something like this that finally allowed him to speak to his mom?
His fingers go back to the buttons. They hover over 911. He’s punching them in before he realizes what’s happening. He has to. He needs to do this.
The line rings once, twice. Then falls silent. Josh frowns. Dials it again. No rings. Nothing but silence. He tries a third time. Nothing. Was the phone call with his mom even real?
He slams the phone back onto the receiver. Fuck this.
He’s leaving.
Josh walks back to the barn numbly. Everything about the morning has been ruined. Every blade of grass knows something. Every fucking tree and clump of dirt saw what happened. He knows it. He’s going to get in his truck, speed out of the driveway and never fucking come back. That’s that. He can’t do this.
Until he actually approaches his truck.
“No fucking way,” he says out loud, eyes glazing over. He freezes where he stands. “There’s no fucking way.”
Josh’s tires have been slashed. His feels his vision blur. God knows when this could’ve happened. Maybe they deflated on their own. He kneels down, praying for the best, but the gashes in the rubber only confirm what he’s afraid of. All four. Clearly the work of a knife, or something similar.
Too suspicious. Too connected. This doesn’t feel real. Is he dreaming again? He’s going to wake up in that fucking attic, isn’t he?
He straightens up and Chris is behind him. Is everyone in this family just an expert at sneaking around? It makes him jump out of surprise.
“Shit,” Chris says.
“Shit,” Josh echoes hollowly.
“Figures they’d get you too.” Chris shakes his head. “Someone put sugar in my gas tank,” he grumbles. “Been trying to get it out all mornin’. Thought it was just me. Happens every once in a while when teenagers come to visit their grandparents for the summer.“
“So, what, I’m just supposed to…” he swallows thickly. “What? Leave my brother? I can’t even go home?”
“No. No. We’ll figure somethin’ out. Just…we’ll figure somethin’ out.”
Stranded. Stuck here. He’s trying not to freak out. He’s trying not to think of how all of this is way too intertwined. How convenient, huh?
He walks back to the house with Chris, and his ears are ringing too much to hear what he’s saying. Something about new tires. Something about his truck. He doesn’t even care. What’s the point anymore? He’s never getting out of here, is he?
Everyone tiptoes around him. Kelly dotes on him like he’s her own, like she’s always done. It feels weirder now, though.
“We’ll give him a good burial,” Kelly promises him gently, “somethin’ real special.”
“He shouldn’t be buried here,” Josh spits. Why is he so defensive? “This isn’t his home. He doesn’t…deserve this. Any of this.” He looks away because he’s about to start crying.
She just pulls him into a silent hug he can’t be bothered to return.
They bury him at the edge of the woods, next to the grazing field. Josh can’t even help. He can’t stop gagging. The flies, they don’t leave for the sanctity of this makeshift funeral. The heat doesn’t waver for him. He can’t stop time.
Pieces of him missing. The clothes he’s wearing aren’t even his own. Josh knows that. He knows. How long was he left to nature’s devices? How many animals are walking around with pieces of Jordan digesting in their stomachs?
Instead of dwelling on that, he watches his only brother get covered in dirt, next to the shrine Tyler had put together for Lola. Her pink bow is weathered now. Will Jordan get a cross? Would he have wanted that? Maybe in his final moments he cried out to God. To be saved by Jesus. Maybe taking his last breath he experienced what no living person will and was accepted into His loving arms.
Or maybe he just died a cruel and heartless fucking death.
“Do you wanna say anythin’?”
“No,” Josh chokes out. “I can’t.” He turns away, covers his mouth with his hand but it doesn’t stop the bile that seeps through his fingers.
There’s quiet. Then there’s the sound of shovels hitting dirt. Dirt hitting Jordan. Dirt hitting dirt. Being packed down. Worms will get him soon. Maybe even now. Maggots. Flies. Eggs. Rebirth. Nature will digest him. Josh will never see him again.
There’s a bundle of honeysuckle laid on the grave. A cross shoved into the dirt. Some Bible verses muttered by Chris because it’s the least he can do.
The Josephs leave Josh to grieve by himself, and he can’t even find the words to say. What was his last conversation with Jordan? He doesn’t even remember. It feels weird to try and talk to him now. There’s nothing to say.
“I’m sorry,” is all he can manage. Sorry for leaving. Sorry for never calling. Sorry for unintentionally leading him to his death. It’s his fault. He has to take accountability. He did this.
“…Josh.”
Tyler’s behind him. Of course he is. Josh is getting better at sensing his presence. He can’t sneak around for much longer.
“Hi,” Josh says. He doesn’t turn around. He keeps staring at the freshly churned dirt as if Jordan might crawl out and yell “surprise! You fell for the prank.”
“Let’s walk around,” Tyler offers. “Fresh air.”
It’s the first good idea he’s heard in months.
They’re silent. They walk in step down the driveway and it’s only when the house is out of sight that Tyler slips his hand into Josh’s. His eyes are trained on the ground.
“Sorry,” he says under his breath.
“Stop,” Josh mutters. Tyler squeezes his hand three times anyway. “I don’t wanna think about it right now.”
“It’s okay. He’s…he’s with God now. He’s gonna-gonna be saved. By Him.”
“He died a violent death that probably could’ve been avoided,” Josh snaps. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Tyler doesn’t say anything else.
The sun sets on them. They walk down the gravel until the house is hidden by trees. Josh has lost the concept of time. Has it been hours? Minutes? Tyler stops in front of a ditch. How the hell does he manage to walk on gravel barefoot? Josh is desperately trying to find anything to think about that isn’t Jordan.
“Your kitty’s here,” Tyler says.
Josh snaps out of his brain fog. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about until that fucking cat pops out of the brush, tail high. That cat who welcomed him here all those months ago. Snuggled up to him in the hayloft.
It chirps in greeting. He wants to cry. He lets out a shaking huff and drops to a squat. The cat trots over to him. Brushes up against him. Purrs. Josh could cry. He blinks back tears and picks the cat up. She nuzzles under his chin.
“Did you know?” He asks, “that she was here?”
Tyler shrugs and makes a face. “No.” He doesn’t like cats. Josh remembers. He watches him take a step back, rubbing his nose.
“…we should get going back,” Josh offers. He should name the cat.
“Oh. Yeah. ‘Kay.” Tyler hesitates like he wants to say more, but starts off towards the house instead.
Josh carries the cat back to the farm, but she wriggles free from his arms as a flock of disturbed crows take flight from the fields next to them. She sprints off into the grass, into the trees.
That’s normal, he tells himself. She’s a wild cat. She’s a stray, that’s what they do. They wander. He’s just glad she’s safe. That’s all he could ask for, really. She might be just another animal on this farm, but to him, she’s the closest thing he has to normalcy. Reminds him of the shelter cats he used to volunteer with in middle school. Eager to love, desperate for affection and maybe a few table scraps if they’re lucky.
Kind of like Tyler, the back of his mind says.
Shut up.
That night, he’s told to get some rest. To try and forget about today. Pray. Talk to God. He picks at the food on his plate. He wants to scoff and say that this was something that would be permanently etched in his mind for years to come, but instead he nods and slumps upstairs to bathe without touching his dinner.
Something about staying in Tyler’s brother’s old bedroom makes his heart ache. Everything comes rushing back. Memories. Childhood dreams, hopes for the future shared beneath pillow forts and firefly-filled night skies.
That’s gone now. You’re an adult and your brother isn’t ever coming back. Josh wants to crawl into a hole and never come back out.
What happened to Zack? Tyler said he…left? Josh doesn’t remember. Tyler loves to lie. Maybe Zack died in the same way. Maybe he’s buried somewhere on this farm and Josh would have to lose his mind churning through the earth to find out the truth.
But he finds Tyler instead. Slinking around like he’s carrying information that no one else knows. It’s instant. The anger. He’s either in deep sorrow or out for blood.
Josh catches him by the arm, yanks him close.
“I know you know what happened,” he hisses, grabbing Tyler by the shoulders. “I fucking know you do. Tell me. NOW. Tyler. Don’t-don’t fucking lie to me.”
Tyler’s eyes are wide, searching his, eyebrows furrowing. He’s in nothing but an oversized shirt and his boxers. He’s instantly afraid. Instantly submissive. Instantly…innocent.
“I dunno-what-what you’re sayin’,” he says, bottom lip trembling. His voice cracks. He searches Josh’s face like he hasn’t studied it a thousand times before. Like Josh is a predator. An outsider.
“You’re hurtin’ me,” he say softly.
…
You’re hurting me.
You’re hurting him.
Josh lets go. Steps back because he’s not…right. He’s not okay. Everything’s wrong. Everything’s going wrong. His brother is dead and he’s hurting Tyler. No, he already hurt Tyler. “I’m sorry,” he croaks, “fuck. I’m sorry.”
Tyler starts to sink to his knees. Timid. Maybe it’s all an act. “I can…um-“
“No.” Josh runs a hand over his face. “Jesus, no. Just-get up.”
Tyler hesitates.
“Get up!” He’s never yelled like this before. At anyone. Ever. Tyler flinches, scrambles to his feet. He shouldn’t have yelled. Chris and Kelly probably heard that.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice cracking.
“I wanna make you feel better,” Tyler tries. The only way he knows how. God. Josh is an asshole. Of course he’d want to…God.
“I know,” he croaks, “I’m sorry. I know.” Sighs, runs a hand over his face. He feels like he gained thirty years in one day.
Tyler watches him with those stupid fucking eyes. The same eyes of the deer he spies at the edges of the forest. The same eyes of the owl that watched him sleep in the barn. The same eyes as those fucking crows and their taunting caterwauls.
“Okay,” he says. “Come to my room.”
Josh swallows every little whimper Tyler has and hides his face in the crook of his neck while he fucks him to keep the tears rolling down his cheeks to himself. But he knows Tyler can feel it. The warmth, the wetness. He’s ignoring it, and for that, Josh is grateful. He needs this distraction. It’s the only thing keeping him grounded. A warm body. A beating heart. Something living around here that isn’t going to be strung up or die in some horrific way.
“If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be,” Tyler whispers against his mouth. “It ain’t pretty like the movies,” he continues, “it’s ugly, Josh. Ugly. Wicked.”
Life isn’t fair, is what Josh gets from that.
“I don’t care,” he says back, choking on the lump in his throat. Struggling to speak. Tyler caresses his face, wipes his tears. Kisses them away.
“God loves you,” he murmurs. “I love you.”
And Josh laughs at him.