The back of Ezekiel’s shirt had darkened despite the chilled air.

Muscles along his forearms grew taut and thick, rippling as he swung the ax with scary ease cutting through the air and striking the trunk. He moved efficiently sparing effort with long, mechanical strokes..

Leyla stared at his shoulders which she had held onto while he was carrying her— how they flexed and broadened with each adjustment.

Thwack

The sound echoed across the quiet forest stirring a few birds from the foliage above. They scurried into the air in a dark wave cawing in complaint before settling onto another branched tree.

He had been at it for the past hour after setting her down on the log.

And she had been staring at him in the meantime.

She twisted the water bottle in hand, something he had gone back to retrieve, and squinted at his neck where a vein the size of a pencil pulsed.

“How did you know?”

Thwack!

The ax wedged itself into the bark of the tree and held. Ezekiel braced a foot against it and yanked it out. She wondered if he had heard her. The swinging continued at a steady pace.

Leyla twisted the cap and took a long sip to fill the silence and cool her cheeks.

“You’ll have to be specific, Leyla.”

Thwack thwack

Leyla swallowed hastily and looked to him but his focus remained steadfast on the wood, a nonchalant ease to his voice as he continued making angled dents.

“My barcode.” She elaborated while touching her nape where the bandage was placed, still fresh. The pain had dulled out to occasional lances when she happened to turn her head too quickly. “You took it out.”

Thwack!

His long fingers seemed swollen with blood pumping. Veins mapped the sun burned skin of his hands which gripped the ax handle tightly and ripped it from the wood. With a final swing he took a step back and placed a gentle hand to the wood that tottered silently on its final support.

With a gentle reverence that did not match the vicious swings, Ezekiel nudged it.

The tree groaned and creaked loudly in the woods. It tilted to the side and hung suspended for a breath as if some invisible string still held it upright, growing taut, then snapped as it tumbled over with a loud crash.

A gust of snow blew in her direction.

Leyla tasted dirt snow in her mouth. She lifted an arm to shield her face from it when something dark moved in the upper left quadrant of her vision.

Ezekiel’s bare arm reached for the bottle cradled between her knees.

He popped the top open and finished the drink in three large gulps, the bottle shrinking in his hand like an emaciated animal.

She watched him drink. The bead of water which trailed along the line of his neck, over the pulsing vein.

When he finished he stood before her studying the plastic bottle and said; “Your barcode had a tracker ID attached to it.”

Ezekiel studied the bottle while speaking; “Your barcode had a tracker ID attached to it.”

“I know that.”

“I took it out because he would track you to me.” A pause, his eyes lifted to hers with a dull daring curiosity. “Unless you would want him to.”

Leyla flushed, “Of course not.” She rubbed the spot still, “... how did you know where it would be?”

“I didn’t.” He tossed the bottle back to the side and wiped the sweat from his brow, turning back to the felled tree. “I happened to come across it while you were sick and passed out.”

She nodded slowly as images of his hands over her naked and feverish body emerged from the recesses of her mind. Just as quick as they surfaced, Leyla shoved them away and focused on the wood being split.

After a while Ezekiel stopped and nodded his head in the direction of some chains he had put near the base of the tree. “Bring that, we’ll chain the pieces and drag them back home.”

Glad to have something to do other than sit and absorb the chill, Leyla hobbled onto her feet and carefully placed her booted leg onto the tracks he had made previously. It took her a moment to grab the chains. They were heavier than she expected.

You’re strong, she uttered and tried hauling the length of it onto her shoulder. It dropped back down like a dead python. Glancing over her shoulder, Ezekiel’s back was turned to her as he began to split the log into smaller pieces.

Grabbing one end of the chain, she turned and slowly, painfully, made her way to him. Her huffing was loud in the silence, plumes of warm breath fogging before her face and misting her hot cheeks.

Ezekiel took it from her without preamble. She leaned on her crutches in relief but remained standing by his side watching as he arranged them into piles and wrapped the chains around.

“How’s the leg?”

Leyla blinked, taken aback by the question. He was sitting on his heels binding up the final stack. Locks of hair had fallen over his profile blocking his eyes from her.

“It’s okay. Hurts a bit but nothing I can’t handle.”

He grunted.

She shifted her weight onto another crutch.

“Think you can walk out here everyday?”

And then he was looking at her. His head angled sideways so that she could catch his attention, that not unkind expression.

“Chopping wood?” She echoed unsure.

“You’re not a prisoner, Leyla. The door is always open for you to leave, or walk outside.”

Something in her chest twisted at his words and her immediate response would have been something defensive, affronted even. But all she could manage was a short, “I know.”

“Good.” He rose to his staggering height and hauled the end of the chain over his shoulder, the wood secured within a tight pile behind him. He stopped beside her, and looking straight, spoke. “Do not forget that this is no country for your kind.”

He was looking at her now. The darkness of his eyes like a bottomless well that drew her in.

“And do not mistake my small mercies as compassionate acts. I am still an animal, and you will always be my preferred prey.”

He began to walk ahead dragging the pile behind him.

Leyla stared at the spot he had been standing at moments ago. Something like ice spread across her back, yet beneath that there was something warm niggling.

After a beat she turned and followed the plowed path carefully.

it ain't much

but its honest work

until next Sunday

؛༊