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Chapter 11: Paisley

Happy New Year!

Before we begin I would like to adress some frquently asked questions. 

Ranks in the military. General > General Lietenant > Captain > lietenant > cadet. Harry is a Captain, Zayn is a cadet, and Zayn's dad is the general lienant so he is ranked above both Harry and his son. Sorry for that confusion. 

Answers to other questions would be:

Yes, Elliot is a girl.

I've seen that question a lot. Yes, Elliot can be a girls name. Blake is my name, I'm a girl, but it can also be a boys name. 

On another note, thank you so so much for all of your reads, votes, and comments. I'll have you know that I read all of them and they are all so lovely. 

I hope you enjoy the update. :)

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Chapter 11: Paisley

~E L L I O T~

All but one of us made it out of that orchard. 

I dragged my barrel around the trees for the remaining hours. Palms worn with blisters by the time I’ve filled my third barrel and bleeding painfully by the fifth. I eventually put my shoes on when I discovered the soil was a lot rockier then I had previously observed. The others were kind enough to leave the lower hanging apples for me to pick and some even gave me some of their own fruit from the higher branches. After a while I denied their charity and sympathetic glances. It may have been difficult but I filled all eight barrels with bloody hands and time to spare.

Davie didn’t talk and barely even looked at me. I think he felt partially responsible for my inconvenience. He gave me an apologetic glance when I went under his tree to scavenge for the lower fruit. Unlike the others, he picked all of the lower apples from the tree and left the rest out of my reach. I think this was mostly because he was too frightened to go any higher, having witnessed my predicament, so I couldn’t really blame him for it.

Relief flooded through me when I had filled my eighth barrel to the brim. I left it under one of the trees and limped over to the Captain. I was the first to finish despite my disadvantage. He stood with a stoic expression, watching me pitilessly as I made my way across the orchard. When he helped me from the tree there seemed to have compassion– no, compassion isn’t the right word. Concern? Sympathy? Consideration? Kindness? Nevertheless, there was something there besides the empty green I’m seeing now. But as soon as he picked his weapon from the ground something seemed to turn on. And now he stares at me like every other Corrector ever has. 

“I’ve filled eight,” I told him. He didn't look at all surprised or impressed. He simply tilted his head toward the direction of the shed. 

I glanced at the shed and then back at him in bewilderment. “What?”

“Line them up in front of the hut,” he ordered coldly. 

“Can’t we just leave them?” My hands throbbed.

“A truck will come down here later today to pick them up and we don’t have the time to search all over the place. Line them up in front of the hut.”

I’ve realized that arguing with him or any Corrector is useless. I’m harmless to them. As distressing as it is to be seen as weak or spineless, there isn’t anything I can do about it.

So I turned my back to the Captain and tried my best to conceal the pain in my feet. 

“One hour left!” he called as I stalked away from him.