Page 48 of The Compound

Tom loomed over me, one hand on my neck, the other holding Becca down, her face in the dirt.

“I knew it,” he said. “I knew it, I knew it.”

Becca managed to twist her head. She wasn’t looking at him; she was looking at me.

She was mouthing something, but it was too dark to see what.

I saw Tom’s hand move backward, and then the sound of a sharp crack, and Becca’s head smacked sharply against the ground.

His hold on me loosened, and I scrambled forward toward the water hidden in the bush.

I heard Becca make some sound behind me, and I thought that she must have fought back in some way, and then I had it: I had the water, and I was getting to my feet, clutching it to my chest. Tom was on me in a second, pinning me to the ground again, his knees on my chest, the air whooshing out of me.

I could breathe, but I thought my ribs would break if I drew in another breath.

He opened the bottle, his hands fumbling, and tilted his head up toward the sky, his mouth stretched obscenely open, and emptied the contents of the bottle over his face.

It rained down his face, into his mouth, into his eyes, and he made a keening sound as the drops hit his tongue, writhing like a snake in his mouth.

Some of the water fell down onto me, and even though I was struggling to breathe under Tom’s massive weight, still my body cried out to try and catch some of the liquid that was falling.

I was thirsty, so thirsty, and the bottle was empty now; Tom, emitting wild gasps, had finished it all.

I rolled him off me in a huge lurch, and he didn’t fightit.

I grabbed Becca, pulling her to her feet with what little strength I had, and ran down the path, stumbling left and right.

Becca was the only one who knew the maze, but she was running wildly next to me, jerking us down different pathways, glancing back every couple of seconds.

I didn’t know if she was leading us out of the maze, or leading us farther in, or if she was running in a blind panic, her only goal to flee from Tom.

I glanced over my shoulder; the moon had come out from behind a cloud, and a distant ray dimly lit the path behind us.

Tom wasn’t anywhere in sight, but there was a splotchy, dark trail behind us.

I stopped and looked at Becca. There was a steady gush of blood running from her nose and onto the ground.

I could actually hear the drops hitting the dirt.

I pulled off my jumper and threw it at her.

“You need to stop the blood,” I said. “He’ll find us. ”

She held the jumper to her face. Her eyes swung wildly around. There was something about the look on her face—that raw fear—and I wondered what had passed between them in the weeks that they had been sharing a bed.

“They can’t let us die,” I said, but my voice shook. Becca looked at me for a beat, then at the maze beyondus.

“If you take five lefts, three rights, a left, and two more rights, you’ll reach the entrance,” she said.

“I won’t find it on my own,” I said.

“We need to separate. He needs both of us to do the task. I’ll take a different route.

Go, quickly!” She pushed me toward the left path, and then she ran to the right.

I wanted to call her name, but I couldn’t risk being caught.

I could hear footsteps, but couldn’t tell whose they were.

I ran left, and the moon moved again behind the shadow.

Left, left, left, left—but where the fifth left should’ve been there was only another right turn.

I paused, my heart knocking painfully against my ribs.

While I was standing, trying to decide what to do, I heard a sound behind me.

I froze, my limbs locking. If this were the wild, I thought, I’d be dead.

Andrew came around the corner, and I sagged with relief, slumping against a hedge behindme.

“Lily, thank Christ,” he said. He took my arm and pulled me upright. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, but my voice was hoarse. “I just—Andrew, are you all right?”

“I really need water,” he said. “I feel incredibly ill.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “Lean on me. We’ll get you inside. It’s going to be fine.”

He leaned on me, and I was pressed farther into the hedge. I tried to shift a little out of the way, but he took my shoulder. “Don’t you feel sick, too?”

“I do,” I said, my voice barely there. “I feel really sick.”

His face was close to mine. “Why did you go out on your own, Lily? It’s dangerous out here.”

“Andrew!” came Tom’s voice, at once close and far away.

Whispering urgently, I said, “We can’t let him know that we’re here.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said. Then he shouted, “I’m here! I’m here with Lily!”

I tried to wrench myself free from him, but he held tight. His fingers dug into my skin. I pushed against his chest, and he said, “Stop, Lily, stop. We need water, all right? Stop.”

Tom came around the corner, carrying Becca. She was limp in his arms. I tried to move again, but Andrew held me tightly, my arms pinned behind my back.

“She’s fine,” Tom said. “She’s fine, she just—needs a rest.” He placed her on the ground with great gentleness.

She sat up, and shivered, her arms tight around her. There was dried blood on her face, and scrapes on her arm. She clutched her leg and moaned.

“What did you do?” I said to Tom, my voice trembling, though I wished for strength. “You—you psychopath, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he said. “She ran away from me and tripped.”

“And why was she running, do you think? Andrew, let me go. You’re hurting me,” I said. He complied, and I knelt beside her. “What happened?” I asked her.

“He grabbed me and I ran away. I fell and twisted my ankle. I must have passed out.”

“But you didn’t hurt her, Tom?” Andrew asked.

I turned to him. “Look at her! Of course he hurt her. And he would have hurt me, too, if he had caught me. He pinned us down and took the water—the last of the water, every drop!”

“Well,” Andrew said, in a strange voice, looking at me. “You did hoard the water, the two of you. You snuck out here and left us sick and dehydrated.”

“We wouldn’t have let anything happen to you,” I said.

He sighed. He sounded exhausted. “We need to do the task. Now. It’s not ideal, but we all need water, fast. We can’t put it off.” He said, “I’m sorry, Becca, I don’t think I’m strong enough to lift you.”

“Wait,” Becca said, but Tom bent over and picked her up again. “No!” she screamed. “Put me down. Put me down !” Tom let her down roughly, and she leaned against me, her legs trembling.

“Jesus fucking Christ, ” Tom said. He grabbed his hair in a strange mix of rage and exasperation. He twisted toward Becca, spittle flying from his mouth. “What is wrong with you? Don’t you realize that you’re the ones who put us in this mess? All I’ve ever done is look after you!”

Behind me, Andrew suddenly fell to the ground. It shocked me to see: there was something horrifying about it, the limp way that he fell, the fact that it was Andrew. Curiously, no one moved to help him.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m fine. Just—let’s just do the task.” He got back to his feet, unsteadily, and leaned against the hedge. “Is there really no water left?” His words were slurred.

“I’m sorry, man,” Tom said. “We’ll get you sorted as soon as the screen turns green.”

Becca was sobbing quietly.

“Becca,” Tom said. “We need you to lead us out of the maze. Can you do that?”

Becca’s blood was drenching my shirt, and I felt that I might pass out at any second; still, Tom’s condescending tone in that moment somehow struck me as one of the worst parts of that night.

She leaned on me, limping, and led us through the maze. The boys followed closely behind, Andrew stepping on my heels every now and then, apologizing each time.