Page 11 of The Compound

Ryan pulled me to the surface and kept lifting me until I was above his head.

“You did it,” he said. I slapped at his shoulders and told him to put me down, but I felt triumphant, fiercely proud of myself.

No one was celebrating, though. I saw Candice and Sarah gasping and looking around them.

Becca was pressed against Sam, trembling.

“She didn’t make it past forty seconds,” Ryan said in my ear. He tutted with regret.

“All right,” Andrew said. “Why don’t we take a break—get some water, maybe get some food.”

Most of the others got out of the pool, leaving only Tom, Andrew, Sam, Becca, Vanessa, andme.

Tom looked displeased. He said, “We have other tasks to do. This is only our third, and it must be—what, two, three o’clock?” He glanced at Vanessa, and said, “Vanessa, would you mind checking the screen and seeing if it’s green yet?”

Vanessa didn’t look thrilled with the instruction but swam to the edge and walked inside. I knew that the concrete was atrociously hot—the others had squealed when they stepped out—but she walked unhurriedly, her hips swaying.

To Becca, I said, “How do you feel now?”

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice scarcely audible. “I just don’t want to do it again.”

“Take a minute,” Tom said, “and then you can try again.”

“She said she doesn’t want to,” Sam said.

“But the couch—”

“Fuck the couch,” Sam said. “She’s not doing it.”

Becca had moved away from Sam, and stood still, with her fingers biting into the skin of her arms. She wasn’t looking at anyone, but I didn’t yet know her well enough to tell if it was out of embarrassment or dread.

Tom said, “Could you think realistically for a minute, please? Do you think it would make sense to live in a house with no couch? Do you want us to sit on the floor the whole time we’re here?

How would that look? But it’s not just that.

It’s everything else that we won’t be able to get today—we’ll have to wait another day before we can move forward.

We need a freezer. And we need a front door.

There are wild animals out there—they could come in at any minute. When we’re sleeping.”

It was funny. Until he mentioned it, I hadn’t realized that we had no front door.

Vanessa stood in the shade of the house and shouted to us, “Still hasn’t turned green!” She lingered for a moment as though she might come back to us, but nobody answered and she went inside.

Sam said, “Let’s all go and get a drink.

It’s hot, and we’ll burn soon. If Becca is feeling up to it later, we can return to the task then.

” His tone allowed no room for argument.

Andrew and Tom glanced at each other, but swam to the edge of the pool and lifted themselves out.

Sam stayed for a moment, standing close to Becca, but she told him to go inside.

“I’ll just be a minute,” she said. “I’m fine.

Really.” He nodded and followed the others inside.

I saw him glance back as he made his way across the lawn.

“I can do it,” Becca said, when they were gone. “Just—not like that.”

I took her hand. “I know,” I said. “It’s okay.”

We stayed there for a few minutes, the water calm in the absence of the others.

The air was thick and heavy above us, and the sound of voices from the house was far off and muffled, like the buzz of insects.

Beside me, I felt Becca breathing deeply, and I did the same.

I closed my eyes briefly, and felt the sun on my face, the weight of it on my shoulders. Sam was right: we would burn soon.

I opened my eyes when I heard a splash of water. We turned and saw Tom slip into the pool and swim toward us. Becca let go of my hand.

“Hey,” he said, when he reached us. “You guys okay? That was pretty intense.”

Becca said nothing, so I said, “We’re fine. We’re just taking a breather.”

He nodded. His hair glistened with drops of water. With his shirt off, his muscles seemed almost inexplicably large. I couldn’t understand why anyone would need to have that kind of strength in today’s world. “I understand. It was frightening. It’s not a pleasant situation.”

“Right,” Becca said.

He looked around him, his neck twisting to take in the lawns and the maze in the distance.

“I know that it seems like the last group didn’t look after this place,” he said.

“But they must have done a lot for it to be as grand as it is now. They did a lot of tasks, and put in a lot of hard work, so that we could have what we have here today. I keep reminding myself that. It helps me to be grateful for everything that we have.”

The pool rippled with the small movements of our bodies. I heard a distant sound; either the voice of one of the residents in the house or the cry of an animal in the desert.

“Becca,” Tom said, “you’re going to be fine.

” He gripped the back of her skull with one huge hand, and she didn’t fight, didn’t make a sound as he angled her down toward the water.

She took a breath, a wild gasp, and then her face was under.

He started to count. I saw her head jerk upward in what was probably more of a reflex than a concerted effort to get away.

He pressed her head deeper below the water.

I grabbed at Tom, but he pushed me away easily with his other hand. “Stop, Lily,” he said. “She’s okay. It’s only a minute.”

“Stop it, Tom—she said she doesn’t want to!”

“We both did it,” he said. “She can do it too.”

I made another move toward her, but he placed a hand out, as though to hold me at bay. He continued to count. She was moving slightly under the water, but not struggling.

“It’s okay, Becca,” I said loudly. “You’re doing great.”

At forty seconds, I held her hand under the water.

She gripped it tightly, her nails biting into my skin.

“Almost there,” I said. She was kicking her feet.

At fifty seconds, she started thrashing.

Tom kept a restraining hand on her head and used the other to press down on her shoulders.

I could see the muscles in his arms move as he held her in place.

The marks down Tom’s chest lit up, red and raw.

I wondered again what had happened in the desert.

“Sixty,” he said, and pulled her to the surface. Her gasp was that of a dying man come back to life.

She was white all over, her hair clinging to her face, her eyes swinging around.

“I’m sorry, Becca,” Tom said, stony-faced and somber. Becca stared at him, taking great gulps of air. “I’ll say that you did it willingly. That way, you won’t be a target. Otherwise, they’ll pick you out as the weak one.”

I could hear cheering from deep within the house: the screen had turned green.

Tom swam across the pool in strong, contained strokes and lifted himself over the edge in one smooth motion.

He was like a giant, making his way across the lawn with long strides, not reacting to the hot ground.

I could feel Becca shaking beside me. I was horrified by what he had done, yes—and I allowed my uncertainty of Tom to grow into dislike, even fear.

I squeezed Becca’s shoulder, and let myself seethe with silent rage; I didn’t let myself reflect on the fact that I, too, had considered doing the same thing to Becca when it was just the two of us in the pool.

Tom didn’t go into the house, but back behind, to the delivery area. By the time Becca and I got out of the pool, his watery footprints had dried under the heat of the sun.

—

I didn’t look at my little screen that day; I had no desire to after the tiring afternoon. Becca neglected to come to the house for several hours, and we abandoned the idea of completing any more Communal Tasks that evening.

The boys were on cooking duty, while the girls stayed outside. Candice, Susie, Jacintha, Mia, and I sat under a tree and chatted.

“Well,” Mia said, settling back on her elbows. “What do we think of the boys?”

“I think Tom’s kind of sexy,” Susie said.

“He nearly drowned Becca,” I said.

“Did he? I still want to get to know him, though.”

“Evan can’t keep his eyes off of you. Stay away from Tom. Stick with Evan,” Candice said.

Susie shrugged and picked up a few strands of my hair, her fingers soft and sweet-smelling, a fine residue of sun cream lingering on them. She plaited my hair with a gentle touch, and I felt myself growing sleepy.

“What do you think of Ryan?” Candice askedme.

“I think I like him,” I said.

“He’s gorgeous,” Candice said, but there was something about the way she said it, like she was comfortingme.

“You two are good together,” Mia said decisively. “And a good win for you, getting the best-looking boy.”

“Ryan’s lucky to have Lily,” Jacintha said tartly. “Not the other way around.”

Casually, I said, “He’s pretty nice, I think. He’s easy to talk to.”

“What do you think his job is?” Candice asked. We were forbidden to discuss our own personal lives outside of the compound, but we were welcome to speculate on anyone else’s.

I thought about it for a moment. “Doctor?”

“He’s not a doctor,” Mia said, so dismissively that I felt foolish for having suggestedit.

“What do you think Andrew is?” Jacintha asked.

“Oh, that’s easy,” I said. “He’s a project manager.”

Candice laughed. “Why do you think so? I thought he might be a lawyer, maybe, or a politician. He’s good at convincing people to do things.”

“Not as good as Tom,” Mia said. Candice smiled tightly at her.

“Andrew’s definitely a project manager. I can see him so clearly, going around the office, making sure everyone’s got everything they need, then asking you to stay late. But, like, he’d make you want to stay late,” I said.