Page 71 of The Compound

“Do it yourself.”

“He asked you, didn’t he?”

I walked to Andrew. I said his name, but he didn’t move. I looked at Tom nervously. I shook his shoulder, and he remained still. “Andrew,” I said, louder this time. “Andrew.”

He groaned and opened his eyes. He mouthed something, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. “Is he dying?” I asked.

“He’s not dying,” Tom said. “Just get the melted ice.”

I fled to the kitchen, my feet sliding on the cool tiles. The two bowls were half full. It wouldn’t be enough to get us through even the morning. It might bring some relief, but it wouldn’t sustain us. I carried themcarefully, aware of every drop in each bowl. I wondered why Tom hadn’t come with me to inspect the bowls, but when I returned I realized he was nearly as poorly as Andrew. He was sitting up, but the veins stood out eerily on his face, and his skin looked oddly thin. I went to Andrew first, who said, “We need to divide the bowls between us.” His voice was hoarse, but he looked more alert now.

“Drink,” I said. “I’ll have some after you.”

“Half a bowl each,” he said, turning to Tom. “That way there’ll be some for Becca when we find her.”

He took a drink and made a whimpering sound in the back of his throat when it touched his lips. After a moment he offered the bowl to me. I shook my head, and he took another sip, and offered it again. “Finish it,” I said. I saw that he was conflicted, so I leaned close and whispered, “I’ll take some of Tom’s.” He smiled and finished the bowl.

I brought the other bowl to Tom. He had his feet on the floor, but didn’t seem strong enough to raise himself out of bed. I stood over him, and brought the bowl to my lips and drank—just a little, though my body cried out for me to drain the bowl dry. He watched me, and took the bowl from me when I had taken my small sup. He drained the bowl quickly and handed it back.

“We need to find Becca,” he said.

“God, I’d love a shower,” Andrew said, and stood slowly. “What time is it, do you think?”

“Noon,” I lied. I wanted them wary of the midday sun.

“Fuck,” Tom said. “There’s no way that Becca’s dead, right?”

“No one has ever died on the sh—in here,” Andrew said. He was right. It had never happened. People did die after the show though—there was a long list now of people who’d taken their lives after they returned home—but that was a separate issue.

I knew that I needed to make it seem as though I wanted to find her, and the only place we hadn’t properly looked was the maze.

“I’ll go and look for her,” I said. “I’ll check the maze.”

“I’ll go,” Tom said. “You rest. Anyway, she was my bedmate. I should find her.”

“I’ll go with you,” I said.

“No, you stay here with Andrew. There’s some fruit left—a couple of apples and some pears. See what kind of juice you can get from them. We need electrolytes as well as water. I won’t be long.” Without turning, he took off his underwear and put on a pair of shorts. We were past the point of privacy now, and it didn’t particularly bother me as it might have a few months ago. He put on shoes and left.

Andrew and I went to the kitchen. He rooted around the freezer for more ice, but found only small chips. He offered me some, and we chewed on them meditatively for a few minutes. I gathered what fruit was left from the pantry, and Andrew sat in the chair.

“I’m sure I know another way to get water,” he said. “If we had our phones this would be so much easier. I’m sure I saw something in a movie, once…” I worked on pressing what juice I could out of the fruit. There was maybe an inch of liquid, and the rest was just pulp and husk, which I pressed to my lips, smearing them with what moisture remained. When I glanced back at Andrew he was dozing in his chair, like an old man. I left the glass of fruit juice beside him and slipped out as quietly as I could. I had stepped only a few feet beyond the door when I saw Tom returning. I stayed where I was, shielding my eyes against the burn of the sun, and watched him walk toward me. I knew that he was weak: I had seen it in his movements this morning. Yet he looked strong enough as he walked across the terrain. If we were to do the task now, Andrew would be gone, and Tom would stay.

“Nothing?” I said.

“I couldn’t see her in there. I can’t imagine she’d venture in, anyway. It’s overgrown, and not at all navigable.” He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and looked at it with concern. “We need to stay inside,” Tom said. He looked a little shaky. “When we were in the desert, we kept in the shade during the day, when the sun was the most brutal. We should stay inside while we wait for Becca. She’ll come find us in a couple of hours, I bet. If we’re feeling a bit off now, she’ll be feeling much worse, out in the open like that. We sit tight in the bedroom, where there’s air conditioning, and by this evening she’ll be back. We’ll do the task, and we’ll have water again. And I’ll tell you another thing,” he said, “if there was ever any doubt about who’s getting banished, it’s certainly gone nowwith Becca running off and leaving us in this mess. When she comes back she’d better have her tail between her fucking legs.”

—

We stayed inthe bedroom until the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. I felt terribly weak: the simple act of getting off the bed was more challenging than I cared to admit. Still, I kept thinking about Becca. The chocolate bars would have been only enough to last her for a couple of hours, presuming she had found them at all. It was too long to leave her without food, but I was parched now, in pain, my head pounding, joints aching, eyes dry. Some foods helped a little, like vegetables, but others that seemed harmless, like yogurt, left my mouth drier than before, sorely regretting having triedit.

The boys were weaker still. Andrew lay in bed, staring blankly before him. Every so often he became very still, and I would call his name in a panic. He caught my eye once, around the evening time, and, seeing my worry, smiled, placating. “They won’t let us die,” he said.

When the sun was setting, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I said I was going outside to relieve myself. The boys didn’t show any sign that they’d heard, but when I was outside, I heard a sound behind me and saw Tom standing in the doorway.

“You should go back to bed,” I said. “You’re very weak.”

“I am feeling weak, you’re right. But you’re not. I can see that you’re uncomfortable, but you’re not ill like Andrew and I are. You look like Andrew did last night. Which means you’ve had water at some point.”

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