Fatal Harvest Read Online Free PDF Page B

Mr. Banyon’s house.
    “Listen, Billy,” Matt breathed. “I got your phone message, okay? But don’t keep looking for me.”
    “Where have you been, dude? I waited for you after class.”
    Matt remembered their plan to go to Dairy Queentogether. Like always. They each would have ordered an M&M’s Blizzard, talked about their classes, planned their weekend. But not now.
    “Something bad’s going on,” Matt said. “Really bad.”
    “What? You’re freaking me out. Where are you?”
    “I’m going away. Don’t look for me anymore.” Realizing he was starting to cry again, which was totally uncool, Matt hung up.
    He stared through his tears at Mr. Banyon’s house. Nearly paralyzed with panic, he wadded up the Snickers wrapper and stuffed it into the ashtray. What should he do? What was right—and wrong? None of this was supposed to happen! He had just wanted to help feed the hungry.
    He needed to talk to Mr. Banyon. Jim Banyon made sense when he explained ethics, when he discussed the difference that Christians could make in the business world. He sounded just like Miss Pruitt when he talked about Christ’s command that Christians meet people’s needs—no matter what the cost. He understood Agrimax better than Matt ever could. Mr. Banyon would know what to do.
    But what if the men were inside the house…threatening him and waiting for Matt? He knew what he ought to do. Leave. Disappear. Get out of town for a while. Isn’t that what fugitives did in the movies? But this wasn’t a movie. This was no computer game, where he could press a button and start all over. It was real.
    He wished he could call Billy again. Billy always had advice—even if it wasn’t necessarily right. Matt stared at his phone. Then he threw it out the window into a tangle of tall grass. No phone. No contact. He looked at the laptop lying beside him on the front seat. He was afraid Agrimax had hacked his user account and could read his e-mails and personal information. He should toss that out, too.
    No. He could use it to stay in touch somehow. But what if they traced him? Now he was getting paranoid. Matt knewmore about computers than those two men did. They weren’t Princeton techies, after all. They were Agrimax goons.
    All the same, Matt knew if he stayed around, his dad and Billy, and maybe even Miss Pruitt, would get involved. The way the Agrimax men had slammed him against the wall today, they wouldn’t hesitate to hurt people if that’s what it took to get their data back. Anyone connected to Matt would be in danger, because he had helped Mr. Banyon.
    The Agrimax men would soon find out Matt was the one who had told Mr. Banyon that he could copy the incriminating Agrimax information onto a USB key. They would learn that Matt had used his own credit card—which his father had said was just for emergencies—to buy the key. They would discover that Mr. Banyon was going to give the USB key and all its terrible secrets to the chairman-elect of I-FEED, a man named Josiah Karume, who would turn everything over to the right people in government and the media. They would know that, in the name of God, Mr. Banyon was going to ruin them. And that Matthew Strong was helping him do it.
    But where could Matt go if he ran? Granny Strong lived in Amarillo. She would take him in. He could drive to Hobbs and cross the state line into Texas. Pick up a map somewhere so he could find the right roads to Lubbock and then Amarillo. Spend what cash he had on gas and food.
    He fought the panic that felt like a noose tightening around his neck. Dear God, please help me! I don’t know what to do. I need to talk to somebody. I need help. But You’re all I have.
    He forced himself to reason. If God was all he had, wasn’t that enough? God is more than sufficient…a very present help in time of trouble…wonderful Counselor…
    “Okay,” Matt breathed out. “Holy Spirit, give me wisdom. And courage, too. Please be my counselor. Help me not to