Page 28 of The Compound

In the kitchen, I saw Sam, and said nothing to him. I couldn’t deny that I was aware of his presence, but I was determined not to show it. Jacintha came in with her shears. She was pleased with them, and turned them this way and that way so that they glinted under the lights. Sam poured himself a glass of water and leaned against the counter. I poured myself a glass of water, too, and stood beside him. I wanted him to go; I would not be the one to leave the room first. He didn’t do the courteous thing and move out of the way. I drank my water at the sink, and let him hear my gulping. I exhaled a loud sigh when I finished, just to annoy him.

“Sam,” Jacintha said, “if I cut enough barbed wire I should be able to make a trap.”

Sam thought for a moment. “Who’s in charge of Pool Maintenance?” I didn’t like the way that sounded, like their only job was to clean the pool. Ryan was committed to yard work, now that he had the lawn mower.

“Ryan and Marcus.”

He nodded. “Jacintha, you get the barbed wire.” He turned to me. “You tell Ryan we need his pool-cleaning net. Meet me at the pond in a couple of minutes.”

“He’s Pool and Outdoor Maintenance,” I said.

—

That night, wehad duck for dinner.

After Sam caught the first one, the other ducks seemed to know their fate and started to flee, but Jacintha and Ryan caught them and held them in the giant pool net. They squawked and resisted with surprising power, but Sam took the barbed wire and wrapped it around the net. The ducks didn’t stop struggling, but they didn’t flap their wings with such zeal anymore.

Taking the ducks out of the net one by one was difficult, and I helped Sam by holding their wings while he grabbed their beaks and necks. Once he had a good grip, he gave a mighty wrench, and the duck was dead. I watched in abject fascination as each duck went from writhing and flapping to limp in his hands in the space of a second. We were methodical—me trying my best to restrain them and Sam snapping their necks, one at a time—and when each bird was dead, I placed it into a bin bag gingerly, as though it might come back to life and fly back out.

Jacintha and Ryan struggled the whole time: the more ducks that died, the more violent the others became, tearing their wings against the barbed wire. Once or twice a duck flew out, and Ryan had to grab it, and inevitably was bitten, pecked, or whacked in the face, for although the birds were not particularly clever they knew how to make a fuss. Each time, Sam took it calmly from him and snapped its neck before it had time to escape again. There was something about Sam in thosemoments—it wasn’t that I admired his killing of innocent creatures, but I was fascinated by the easy, clinical way he did it before handing the carcasses to me so gently. I found myself examining him closely, the way he twisted his mouth while making a quick jerk of his wrist. I was unable to look away. Ryan might as well have not existed tome.

I remembered that some days or weeks before, I had stopped myself from considering the boys’ possible participation in the wars. I thought of it again as I watched the quick, clean, detached way in which Sam killed the ducks. But it didn’t repel me; it made him more real. For a moment I stopped thinking of Sam solely as a fellow contestant on a television show, in which he was suspended somewhere between reality and social experiment, and thought of him fully, truly, as a man standing before me, impressive, attractive, intelligent—someone I realized I liked a great deal.

No one had any reservations about eating the ducks: only opinions about the best way to skin them and cook them. Even Mia stayed quiet. Some of the boys had ideas, and voiced them loudly, but Candice held up her hand, and said, “Carlos and I are Food Preparation. We’ll handle it.” She tied her hair up in a long, sleek ponytail and asked Jacintha to fetch the garden shears.

—

It was surprisinglytasty. We ate with fierce satisfaction: we were not at the mercy of anyone—we could fend for ourselves. We sat in the outdoor dining area and arranged our seats so that we sat in a circle. We spoke only a little, eating as quickly as we could while glancing around us, as though suddenly seeing all the possibilities of the compound. What else could be eaten? Jacintha remarked that there had once been an orchard but the previous residents had picked it clean. It would take some time to restore it, but it could be done.

We licked our fingers and put our hands on our stomachs: we weren’t exactly full, but we were brimming with pleasure. Most of us had helped in some way. Candice and Carlos had plucked, disemboweled, washed, and cooked the ducks, and Vanessa and Sarah had gathered the grease and fat to store in a jar, now the only thing in our fridge. They had frozensome of the duck meat too, and though we would have gladly eaten every bite that night we saw the sense in it. Susie, who I would have thought was squeamish, surprised me by taking the duck feathers and cleaning them with meticulous precision. After we ate, she went around the circle and presented everyone with a single, pristine feather, smiling bashfully, as though we might refuseit.

Six

The satisfaction of our dinnerthe night before evaporated in the morning when we woke, hungry once again. I went to wake Andrew, as he had requested, but when I leaned over him and said his name, he jolted awake and stared at me with horror. He looked at me with wide eyes, as though I were a stranger. “You asked me to wake you,” I said.

He rubbed his face. “Of course. Thanks, Lily. You’re more reliable than any alarm clock.” He looked around the bedroom. “Have you checked the big screen?” I nodded. “No food?”

“No,” I said.

He nodded wearily. I could see him thinking. “We should probably wake the others,” he said. He looked at Candice, who was sleeping still, her hair splayed out around her, her mouth slightly open. She was beautiful in sleep, her face dewy and her lips like rose petals. As Andrew watched her, I saw his face soften. “Maybe just a few minutes more,” he said quietly.

For breakfast, Vanessa and Sarah handed me a coffee only, and even then it was only half a cup. I was desperate for something more substantial, and imagined buttered bagels and bacon-topped pancakes. Sarah and Vanessa didn’t take their eyes off me the entire time I was in the kitchen, as though I might try to tackle them to get to the remaining duck in the freezer.

—

Task: Each boyand girl must eat a handful of grass

Reward: A whistle

“They’re mocking us,” Tom said.

“It’s cruel,” Mia said. “It’s just cruel.”

But we had no choice: it was the first task of the day.

“I know it’s difficult,” Andrew said, “but I’m positive that the next task will be food. A couple of seconds and this task will be over.”

We sat in the grass, and each took a handful. “Check for insects,” Ryan said, and Susie gave a tearful gasp. Evan had left Sarah’s bed and returned to Susie’s bed that night, and he sat beside her now murmuring encouraging words.

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