Retribution

Chapter Three

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Rumour has it that the twelfth adult was killed today. He tried running away and a man caught him, beating him to a pulp on the side of the street and told nobody to touch or help him unless they wanted to end up with the same fate. Apparently his ribs punctured a lung and he suffered a long painful death.

I though about that as I walked along the gravel path, making my way to the square to then go to the kitchen to drop off products.

Up ahead I saw the main building, standing proudly in the middle of the stone square, the large brick building towering over every wooden hut that went for a mile in each direction. I let out a sigh of relief, my muscles aching from heaving around basket after basket of freashly picked carrots, corn and potato but instantly felt disheartened when I knew I had to make many more trips to collect the slaughtered pig for the leaders to feast on tonight.

Today was a hot day, the sun beating down on my shoulders making it feel like a million degrees hotter than what it truely is. As usual, I'm clad in my average blue denim shorts and a black singlet top. My short hair was out and providing slight sun protection to my neck, but it was really just making my neck sweat and heated me up ever more.

I swapped the large wooden basket to my right hand to swipe the beads of sweat away that I felt trailing down my forehead and immediately cried out in pain, the heavy basket falling and landing on the ground with a thud and the vegetables scattering around it.

I clutched my right wrist tightly, trying to support the limb and get rid of the shooting pain as I stared down at the basket and its spilled content. I mentally sighed as I stood without any extra weight for a moment, stretching out my cramped left side from sure I was hunched from when lugging the heavy basket. I didn't have it in me to do any more work. My lack of sleep and haunting dreams when I managed to drift off made me restless and feel drained when I was forced to do the jobs assigned to me.

I sat on the ground and crossed my legs. Leaning my sore wrist on my knee, I straightened the basket upright and started piling the vegetables back in, dusting them from the dirt in the process. This was the first time in an hour and a half I got to sit down for a break, and about the fifth time I made the mistake of swapping over to my right hand.

Mentally cursing myself once more, I finished collecting the scattered content and stood up, preparing myself for more work. Bending down to pick it up, I gasped and stumbled backwards as Jaxon appeared infront of me within a blink of an eye.

I froze standing tall at my short height staring up at him cautiously. He was towering above me at his full height, face like a blank canvas, dark brown eyes locked with mine.

'Umm, I'm sorry, I-I didnt mean to, uh drop this.' I muttered to him fearfully. 'I'll wash them when I get b-back.' I looked down at my feet, clad in an extremely old pair of black converses with white laces and toe (turning grey from being so old) finding the worn out shoes extremely interesting and a perfect distraction from the intense look.

'Is your wrist still sore?' He asked, dismissing my clumsy actions.

'Just a little.' I rambled nervously. The attractive male infront of me sent an odd feeling through my stomach. His dark brown almost black curls fell in messy ringlets down just past his ears. A few stray curls fell infront of his eyes and as his hands reached up to rake them from his vision, I couldn't help but notice the well defined bicep expanding with his simple movement.

'I saw you drop the basket. Sam will look at it for you.' He instructed in a tone that left no room for argument.

'Honeslty, I'm sure its nothing, just a irritating bruise.' I gestured to the slight purple on my skin. Honestly I wanted nothing more to get away from him, the feeling in my stomach felt like small butterflies and it nerved me how such an evil man could make me feel like this