other thing on the platform was a small
table that held the stun baton.
The mayor addressed the crowd. “Dillon Montgomery, by his own
testimony, is guilty of hunting and killing a deer. The punishment
to commence immediately is eight charges with the stun
baton.”
The word “hunting” made me bristle. As far as I was concerned,
I hadn’t hunted anything. Hunting involved more effort than
shooting from a window. My lips parted, wanting to ask him why
killing the deer was so wrong. But fear caused the question to
stick in my throat.
The air stirred around me as the Bulls closed in. Two of them
grabbed my arms and jerked them behind my back. They led me across
the platform and inserted my wrists into ropes hanging from the
overhead beam. The design made it so the Bull’s wouldn’t have to
pick me up after each jolt. How convenient for them.
I looked out into the crowd. Why were they packed so close
together? There was space enough around the platform for ten times
their number. They looked like a mob. Searching their faces, I
recognized everyone. Not surprising, considering I knew pretty much
the whole town. The hungry looks on all their faces was disturbing,
like they’d come here starving for the show. In fact, their faces
reminded me a lot of what people looked like right before movie
night began.
Old Bill was noticeably absent, as was Craig Black. I figured
Craig was probably home sleeping off the night shift. Old Bill I
couldn’t explain. There were several others missing, like Josh and
Jason, which really seemed odd. There was no way they’d willingly
miss seeing me get jolted. Of course, they might have been in the
fields, and the mayor wouldn’t halt the harvest for anything. I
expected Millie’s absence, but the one person I really hoped to see
wasn’t there.
I didn’t know if it was good sign or a bad one that Chane
hadn’t come. Maybe, like Millie, she didn’t want to see me
punished. Or maybe she simply didn’t care.
After they strapped me in place, the mayor said, “Dillon
Montgomery, do you hereby confirm that you are guilty of this
crime?”
Hanging my head, I whispered, “Yes.”
“ I’m sorry, Dillon, but you must speak loud enough so that at
least five other people can confirm your statement.”
I took a breath, and in a forced voice said, “Yes!”
“ Very well,” said the mayor. “Let the punishment
commence.”
Every muscle in my body
tensed. Locking my jaw so I wouldn’t bite my tongue, fear coursed
its way through my limbs. Thankfully, the ropes would hold me
up. My chest
tightened and my breathing became ragged and raspy. I wasn’t
hyperventilating, but I was close.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Kurt, the mayor’s new
favorite Bull, picking up the stun baton from the table. My
breathing increased ever closer to full-on panic. I closed my
eyes.
Suddenly, gasps and murmurs rang out from the crowd. It wasn’t
the sound of an angry mob looking for justice, more a surprised
“that’s unusual” kind of cry. I clamped my eyelids even tighter.
Had the mayor come up with a new way to punish me?
I summoned the courage to peek an eye open a slit, just enough
to let me see the crowd. Every head was turned to the west. Both my
eyes popped open and I saw a figure running through the grass
toward the platform. It took a moment for me to recognize Jason
Mason.
He covered the ground quickly, waving his arms and yelling,
“Dad! Dad!”
Whatever the message, it was urgent. No one, especially one of
his own kids, would interrupt the mayor at a public
punishment.
Everything came to a stop. All eyes but mine were fixed on
Jason. Kurt stood with the stun baton lowered at his side. The
mayor wore a heavy scowl that conveyed both concern and annoyance.
The crowd turned to one another, and a low-pitched buzz of voices
filled the air.
Jason reached the platform and spoke so only those of us on it
could hear. “Dad,” he said as he took a gulping breath,
table that held the stun baton.
The mayor addressed the crowd. “Dillon Montgomery, by his own
testimony, is guilty of hunting and killing a deer. The punishment
to commence immediately is eight charges with the stun
baton.”
The word “hunting” made me bristle. As far as I was concerned,
I hadn’t hunted anything. Hunting involved more effort than
shooting from a window. My lips parted, wanting to ask him why
killing the deer was so wrong. But fear caused the question to
stick in my throat.
The air stirred around me as the Bulls closed in. Two of them
grabbed my arms and jerked them behind my back. They led me across
the platform and inserted my wrists into ropes hanging from the
overhead beam. The design made it so the Bull’s wouldn’t have to
pick me up after each jolt. How convenient for them.
I looked out into the crowd. Why were they packed so close
together? There was space enough around the platform for ten times
their number. They looked like a mob. Searching their faces, I
recognized everyone. Not surprising, considering I knew pretty much
the whole town. The hungry looks on all their faces was disturbing,
like they’d come here starving for the show. In fact, their faces
reminded me a lot of what people looked like right before movie
night began.
Old Bill was noticeably absent, as was Craig Black. I figured
Craig was probably home sleeping off the night shift. Old Bill I
couldn’t explain. There were several others missing, like Josh and
Jason, which really seemed odd. There was no way they’d willingly
miss seeing me get jolted. Of course, they might have been in the
fields, and the mayor wouldn’t halt the harvest for anything. I
expected Millie’s absence, but the one person I really hoped to see
wasn’t there.
I didn’t know if it was good sign or a bad one that Chane
hadn’t come. Maybe, like Millie, she didn’t want to see me
punished. Or maybe she simply didn’t care.
After they strapped me in place, the mayor said, “Dillon
Montgomery, do you hereby confirm that you are guilty of this
crime?”
Hanging my head, I whispered, “Yes.”
“ I’m sorry, Dillon, but you must speak loud enough so that at
least five other people can confirm your statement.”
I took a breath, and in a forced voice said, “Yes!”
“ Very well,” said the mayor. “Let the punishment
commence.”
Every muscle in my body
tensed. Locking my jaw so I wouldn’t bite my tongue, fear coursed
its way through my limbs. Thankfully, the ropes would hold me
up. My chest
tightened and my breathing became ragged and raspy. I wasn’t
hyperventilating, but I was close.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Kurt, the mayor’s new
favorite Bull, picking up the stun baton from the table. My
breathing increased ever closer to full-on panic. I closed my
eyes.
Suddenly, gasps and murmurs rang out from the crowd. It wasn’t
the sound of an angry mob looking for justice, more a surprised
“that’s unusual” kind of cry. I clamped my eyelids even tighter.
Had the mayor come up with a new way to punish me?
I summoned the courage to peek an eye open a slit, just enough
to let me see the crowd. Every head was turned to the west. Both my
eyes popped open and I saw a figure running through the grass
toward the platform. It took a moment for me to recognize Jason
Mason.
He covered the ground quickly, waving his arms and yelling,
“Dad! Dad!”
Whatever the message, it was urgent. No one, especially one of
his own kids, would interrupt the mayor at a public
punishment.
Everything came to a stop. All eyes but mine were fixed on
Jason. Kurt stood with the stun baton lowered at his side. The
mayor wore a heavy scowl that conveyed both concern and annoyance.
The crowd turned to one another, and a low-pitched buzz of voices
filled the air.
Jason reached the platform and spoke so only those of us on it
could hear. “Dad,” he said as he took a gulping breath,
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