BEHIND THE STARS - "Captive" (Vol. 1)

Chapter 3

Jackson’s hands covered mine. “Hold it like this, Pip.”

It was a blazing-hot August day. The air rested on us like a wet rag, and Jackson’s arms braced mine straight as he positioned my grip around the shiny silver pistol. He sneaked it out of his daddy’s truck, and we were by ourselves in the woods past the backfields.

“It’s too loud, and it’s gonna kick me.” My back pressed against his chest, and my heart beat hard.

“There’ll be a little kick, but I’ll hold you the first time.”

Every muscle in my body tensed, and two beads of sweat tickled down my sides where our bodies met. I wanted to go back to the house, grab a Coke, and flop out in the air conditioning, not shoot some stupid handgun as big as my head.

“Why is this so important to you?”

His arms relaxed, and he stepped back. Sweat pasted his light brown hair to his forehead. “There’s all kind of reasons for you to know how to use a gun.”

“Name one.” I turned to face him, the heavy pistol hanging loose at my side.

“Panthers? Heck, you’re the one always talking about our farm. You think wild animals don’t come onto farms?”

“I don’t think I’d go after a panther with a gun like this.” I pushed the flyaway pieces of hair that always slipped out of my ponytail from my face.

 “Besides, it’s fun.” Jackson smiled, reaching for my waist and pulling me back against his chest again. “Like them other things you’re too scared to try.”

His voice was low and his breath tickled my neck, causing a tingle to move across my stomach. He meant us sleeping together for real, but I was still saying No to that.

“I’m not scared. I’m just not ready.”

“Well, get ready.” He lifted my arms and held my hands around the gun. “It’s loud. And it kicks. And you’re gonna love it.”

My jaw clenched. “I’ve got to get to Dr. Green’s.”

I could feel his excitement as he kissed my ear. “Ready?”

Eyes squeezed shut, bracing, our fingers slowly pulled the trigger…

* * *

“I am Shubuta, your team leader,” the woman in the dark-green uniform said.

After our silent breakfast of steak and eggs, we’d been led into the yard and made to stand side by side in a line. I hadn’t seen Cleve again—they’d separated us into two groups based on gender.

A female guard dressed in lighter-green coveralls handed out straw hats and baskets, and I decided the darker colors must be for the leaders, light was for their assistants. Gray was for us.

“Each morning, I will give you your work assignments,” Shubuta said. “They will primarily be tending the crops. In the afternoons, you will rest in the shade. Please stay hydrated so you do not become ill.”

Farming was second-nature to me, but as I glanced around the group, I could tell most of the girls were new to it. Finishing by early afternoon was a typical farm schedule, but on the farm you rose before dawn. And you didn’t eat steak at every meal. I couldn’t figure out that part. Maybe they thought that’s how Americans always ate? Our average body size would support such a notion.

Flora Magee was here. I’d found her last night before as we were led to the showers, a metal two-serve building where we were issued yellow, lemon-scented soap and then guarded as we went back and forth in pairs. The two of us kept close together now.