"You will contribute to Balthazar," a tribesman informed Jackson. Jackson leaned back heavy against the wooden bars encaging him. "your contributions will be in more than jure bone and blood, it will also be in sweat and trials."
"I'm not doing anything for you people," Jackson responded calmly, lacing his fingers, supporting his arms on his scuffed knees. "I refuse."
"Do you think this is a choice?" The tribesman looked appalled. "You obey, you become work boy, you remain a living for as long as possible for you. Do you comply?"
Jackson narrowed his eyes, resisting the inevitable. He was human - he didn't want to die. But why comply when they were just going to kill him anyway? "Fine." he didn't want to die. Time meant opportunity. Opportunity to escape - to not die.
When the tribesman unlatched the cage Jackson slowly slid out. The tribesman moved to quick for Jackson to resist and shackled his arms in front of him. He had to be restrained but able to work as well.