Page 103 of Deviant

Could it be that now that I’ve been chosen to faceThe Scourge,my father has realized that he still loves me deep down? That even though he can’t find it in his heart to forgive me, doesn’t mean he’s stopped loving me?

I hold on tight to that thread of hope as we step into the car and drive into town.

When we arrive, The Harvest Dozen are already there, saying their last goodbyes to their families.

“I know it’s difficult, but time is of the essence,” Mayor Davenport says, looking worse for wear. He looks like he didn’t get a wink of sleep, his usual put-together appearance in complete disarray. “Please say your goodbyes and be on your way. The next part is only for the ears of the dozen.”

I try to block out the tears and pleas of the families as they are forced to go on their way. As the sheriff of this town, my father is allowed to stay with three more of his deputies just to ensure everything is done according to tradition. So my goodbyes can wait. The rest of the selected aren’t as lucky.

While this misery is going on, Elias sits on the steps of city hall, playing with his lighter, pretending to be too distracted to care about what’s happening around him.

There’s no one here to say goodbye to him.

Not his brother.

Not his father.

He’s got no one.

I guess I’m partially to blame for that.

“Okay, people,” my father shouts, placing his hand on his holster to look threatening. “I know this is all very difficult forall of you, but time is up. Get into your cars and go home. Don’t make me and my deputies have to force you.”

Everyone gets the hint, and though reluctantly, they start leaving, knowing this might be the last time they will ever see their children again. Once the last car drives off, the mayor’s expression changes to look all business-like, eager to get this show on the road.

“Bobby, the envelope please.”

Bobby hands him a large manila envelope, glancing over at me with a sad frown, forcing me to meekly smile back at him. He then steps back to stand side by side with my father, adopting the same serious expression that my father is wearing.

“As you all know,The Scourgetakes place somewhere up the mountains. However, only you will know its true location.”

“How?” one of the guys asks, crossing his arms over his chest as if he were in charge of the group.

I immediately recall his pompous demeanor from school as well as his name—David Hall. I must have been a sophomore when he graduated, so we didn’t run in the same circles. However, I do remember overhearing some teachers express how happy they were to see him leave. He had a reputation for being a bit of a dick. And so far, just by his arrogant stance alone, the rumors about him don’t sound that far-fetched.

“With these,” Davenport explains, pulling out a single watch from the manilla envelope.

“A watch?” Ruby blurts out, confused.

“Not just any watch. This watch will be your guide throughout your journey. Not only will it give you the precise location of where to go, but also detailed instructions on what to do once the games start,” Davenport explains as he hands each one of us a watch.

When he’s about to give me mine, he leans in closer and whispers, “I’m sorry you were chosen, Rowen.The Scourgeshould have spared you after what happened to your mother. I wish things had turned out differently for you, and for that, I am sorry.”

“I guess none of us are safe,” I reply sympathetically, throwing a glance over at his own daughter.

“I guess not.” He lets out a sigh and then proceeds to hand out the remaining watches.

I stare at the watch before fastening it around my wrist.

The strap is made from high-quality leather, mine having been dyed in eggshell white, complimenting the watch’s overall color scheme. It features a classic deployment clasp, ensuring a secure fit while allowing for easy wear. The leather is soft yet durable, with contrast stitching that lends a refined touch. This watch must have cost someone a pretty penny, but it’s the square face of the watch that raises my curiosity.

A watch’s purpose is usually to tell the time, but this one is completely blank, showing nothing at all.

“Mr. Larsen, I believe this one is yours,” Mayor Davenport says, dangling the watch in the air.

Elias pulls himself off the stairs with a cigarette still dangling at the corner of his lips as he walks over to the mayor and snatches it away from him.

“Thanks. How did you know that black was my color?”

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