The chill of winter wrapped around my skin like a vice. Standing in the cornfield listening to Isaac preach to the population of Gatlin I felt exhausted. I had listened to his sermons nearly every night since my abduction and it had become common place now. I used to roll my eyes when my mom turned on the six o'clock news and the same familiar attitude washed over me when the torches were lit and all the children were led out to the cornfield. I was getting used to these bizarre events. The strange talk of Corn Gods and sacrifices as if I had fallen into a world history textbook turned to the chapter about the Aztecs. Or was it the Mayans? Whoever it was I wouldn't be able to look it up in the Gatlin library that was for sure.
The past few weeks have been… boring. That's an odd word to describe my circumstance but I stand by it. Isaac has kept true to his word and I have a "Watcher" with me everywhere I go. He says it is temporary, only until he trusts me again. I think he's full of shit so we'll see about that. I've been doing my best to butter him up lately but he spends as little time around me as possible. Our morning lessons are usually cut short and he hides away in his office for most of the day. The one mercy I am thankful for is that he has never assigned Malachi as one of my Watchers. Although I suspect he does it not for my peace of mind but for his own. The red haired boy has been stationed on the outskirts of town for the majority of the month either by his own choice, but more likely by Isaac's persuasion. Malachi may have strength but Isaac can dance around anyone with those words of his. I almost envy him for it. Almost.
I try to focus my eyes on Isaac, attempting to listen to what he's saying but it is only the usual things he spouts at night. He Who Walks Behind the Rows, the importance of sacrifice, children leaders all the usual Gatlin commandments. Although I do note that he skipped "beware of outlanders" tonight.
The sermon is wrapped up just as the younger citizens of Gatlin start to yawn. The children start branching off to sleep wherever they find fit. A lot of the kids take up residence in old homes, some choose storefronts, and some wander every night sleeping trees or just on the sidewalk. They feel oddly safe in Gatlin, a comfort I have yet to find.
Standing by the church steps I wait for my assigned Watcher to find me. They usually switch off after the service which I don't blame them for. I'm not exactly the most interesting person to watch. Footsteps crunch the dirt behind me and I turn around to meet my Watcher when I see who it is.
"Evening, Mahlah," Isaac says, his lip pulled into a formal smile.
"Are you my Watcher tonight?" I ask, obviously confused. Isaac has never assigned himself to babysitting duty. He gets his minions to do it.
"Something like that," he says before mounting the steps and swinging open the door to the chapel. "Would you come with me, please?"
I could have protested but that would not have gotten me anywhere. Stepping into the empty sanctuary I felt cold again. None of the buildings in Gatlin had heat, only candles flickering in the cool air. A cluster of wax sat at the end of each pew, providing dim light and very little heat. Despite having earned Rachel's old ceremony dress, the fabric was not enough to fight the growing winter chill. My eyes fell to the floor where part of the wood was stained a darker shade than the rest of the panels. A shiver ran through my body as I remembered trying to clean the blood out of the wood.
An arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close to Isaac's side. My breath was stuck in my chest, and the color drained from my face. He probably meant to keep me warm but I only felt colder in his embrace.
"Mahlah, I want you to know that I'm proud of you. All the Watchers' reports have been excellent. You have truly brought honor to He Who Walks Behind the Rows," Isaac said. His voice sounds very different being so close than when he was yelling to a crowd. It's lower here, and less sharp.
"Thank you," I say, but my voice catches at the very end. I hope he doesn't hear. I hope he doesn't know how terrified I am in this moment. Will I be sacrificed? Killed and sliced open for my blood to be drained into the dirt?
"We have spoken of your place in the prophecy," his voice is as gentle as he can manage but my heart is lodged in my throat. "I have done a lot of praying and have been patiently receiving his messages. I know now what must be done."
In that moment I couldn't breathe. There was plenty of air all around me but I was too frightened to move enough to take any in. What exactly must be done?
Something pressed against the kin right under my jaw bone, leaving a warm mark on the side of my throat. A kiss. He kissed me. I slowly let out the air I had been holding as my mind tried to figure out how I felt about this situation. He didn't allow enough time to think it through before he was planting another kiss at the base of my neck. The warmth of his lips compared to the coldness of the room made me shudder, but not in the way Malachi's slimy smile had. I was both scared and excited as the knot of tension in my stomach started to relax into a warmness that filled my whole body.
His arm moved down from my shoulders to my waist and I could not even think about stopping it. Every movement he performed made the warmness in my middle spread. Another kiss on my collarbone and my fingertips tingled. He looked up at me for a moment, our eyes locked together as the realization of what would happen washed over me. I had teased boys plenty of times knowing exactly what to do to make them squirm. It was exhilarating to have someone know what to do to my own body to get the same reaction.
"Therefore shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave unto his wife-," Isaac began, his voice wavering betraying his thoughts that must be so similar to my own.
"-and they shall be one flesh," I finished the verse just as our lips collided together. I had kissed a number of people in my time trying to get by in this town but this was by far the most deeply satisfying one I had experienced. Kneeling down we got down to the floor, surrounded on either side by crudely made candles dripping wax onto the wood floors. Isaac's suit jacket had been discarded on a nearby pew and his fingers were already fumbling with the zipper at the back of my neck. Before he could finish the job I pushed him onto his back, shaking hands going for the buttons of his dress shirt. It was halfway undone before he caught my mouth in another kiss that felt like a shock of electricity running through my bones from the top of my skull to the tips of my toes. My own lips strayed away from his, landing on the skin of his throat. His breath fell out in a rush as if surprised by the sensation.
My whole body was warm, my mind lightheaded, and my skin hungry for my kisses, more of his touch. Both of our hands were at his belt buckle when a crash shook the entire chapel. A sound from outside, something loud- something big. We were frozen for a second before Isaac had wiggled his way out of my grasp and was up on his feet, buttoning his shirt and grabbing his jacket.
"Stay here," he said before disappearing through the double doors into the night.
Alone on the floor of the chapel I looked up at the altar where a cross adorned with corn stalks stood watching over us. I had almost forgotten about it. He Who Walks Behind the Rows had been completely out of my mind…
He would have gotten his prophet. I was willingly to go all the way right there on the floor of the church and then this Corn God would have gotten exactly what he wanted. How could I have been so foolish. Staring up at the altar I wanted to throw something at it, scream or yell- something that would get across to this God that I was not a piece to be played. Yet no matter how hard I thought that I couldn't really believe it. I had been a chess piece ever since I got here.
I almost gave up my freedom tonight. My last form of resilience in Gatlin. How could I have been so carless? Sure, his hands were warm and the taste of his kisses still made my head fuzzy. I'd have to keep my guard up or I'd be used and thrown out. Then again what other choice did I have? There was no way to escape this place and once I became too old I'd be crucified just like every other person here. Maybe I should just give in, if only for the purpose of another night feeling as good as I had earlier.
The sound of shouting voices drifted through the rickety boards of the church and as they came closer they floor boards shook with the volume. Isaac busted through the doors, the first three buttons of his shirt still left undone but his mind was elsewhere. His eyes were large and crazed, his lips pulled into one of the few genuine smiles I had seen on him.
"Grab the knife and your bible, Mahlah," he said, breathlessly as if the excitement of the night was too much for his body to handle. "There's outlanders in Gatlin."