S. Bodeen - The Compound

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.”

I cleared my throat. “Lex, it’s true. No one else knows.”

“Stupid, I get that. I think you were talking about something else.”

Mom picked up her knitting again, the red metal needles clicking in her hands.

Lexie glared at her. “Look at me.” Lexie leaned forward, her face flushed. Her voice was deep, harsh. “I hate that you just tell me something and I’m supposed to take it. I hate that you’re the queen and we have to do everything you say. All you did was marry a rich guy and have his kids. That’s it, that’s all you are.”

Any sympathy I may have felt for her the night before evaporated. “Shut up!” I screamed.

Mom looked at Lexie. “I know you don’t mean that.”

Lex turned her glare to me. “You’re her lapdog, you do whatever she says.”

I retaliated by calling her a name, and I didn’t bother to use Mandarin.

“Eli, don’t talk to your sister like that.”

Dad entered the room, his glance bouncing between the three of us. “What’s all the yelling? I could hear you down the hall.”

Lexie pouted. “They won’t tell me what they’re talking about.” She looked from one parent to the other. “You both treat me like a child.”

Mom fidgeted with her knitting.

Dad scratched his chin. “Lexie, your mother and I know what’s best for you, for all of you.”

With all that I knew, it was impossible to just stand there and say nothing. “You mean you think you know best.”

“I do know best.” Before he said it, Dad had hesitated.

Barely, but I saw it. Which gave me the strength to say what I needed to. “I don’t think only you knowing the code for the door is the best thing, Dad.”

“And who else should know? You?” He laughed.

My hands clenched.

“Eli, you are young and impulsive. One bad day and you’d be wanting out.”

If he only knew. I went for it. “Why do you get to be the one to make all the decisions?”

Dad’s expression changed. Became hard. “Why? Because I built this place, it’s mine. I should make all the decisions.”

I couldn’t stop. “And the rest of us? You own us, too?”

Dad shook his head. He set a hand on his stomach, wincing. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Bull!” This wasn’t how I planned it. Too late. My emotions were running the show. “I got on the Internet, I talked to Eddy. You’ve lied to us from the beginning—there was no nuclear attack—it was all a lie. We could have left here any time. Any frickin’ time!” My tone was a screech by the time I got done.

Mom didn’t even tell me to watch my language as her eyes squeezed shut and she gripped her knitting needles so hard that her knuckles turned white.

Lexie stood up. Her forehead wrinkled as she processed what I’d said. She sank into the couch next to Mom, apparently forgetting her animosity of moments before.

I suddenly wished I had told Lexie about Eddy and the Internet before. She deserved to know. But I wasn’t done. “When I think of everything you made us believe . The things you would have made us do.” I looked at Lexie before turning back to Dad. “And none of them were necessary. Not even one. This place wasn’t our sanctuary. This was your world. Your twisted world.”

Dad looked from Mom to Lexie, then back to me. His face held no expression. “I wanted to save my family from the largest menace of the modern age. I’m twisted for wanting to save my family?”

“But there was no nuclear attack to save us from!”

His voice was calm. “You don’t know that. You have no way of knowing what the truth is and what isn’t.”

How could he say that?

“I do! I talked to Eddy and Gram and they told me everything.…” I trailed off, sounding like a little kid trying to talk his way out of getting grounded for something inane like shaving the family cat.

Dad scratched his head. “I’m not sure what kind of person you’ve become, if you fault me that much for ensuring the survival of my wife and children.”

“I know what happened!” My voice quavered, which only served to make me more determined. I was not going to back down. “You did this to us, you set it all up. There were no nukes. I know it. I can’t prove it, but I know it’s the truth. And now you have to give me the code, so we can get out.”

My hair had fallen in front of my eyes and I slowly pushed it back. I forced myself to calm down, sound rational for my last plea. “Just let us go, Dad. After all this time, you owe us that.”

His eyebrows lowered and his voice was thunder. “I am your father. I owe you nothing.”

“Oh my God.” Mom stood up, her face red, her hands trembling. “Is it true?”

Dad didn’t look at her.

Mom dropped back down on the couch beside Lexie, who was crying. “Is it, Rex? Was this all a joke to you?” He met her eyes. “No, Clea. Not a joke. It was never that.”

“What about me?” Mom shook her head in disbelief. “You told me my son and my mother were dead and I believed you. My God, all these years I trusted you.”

Their eyes locked. She was the first to look away. Dad gazed at her a moment more, then crossed his arms, his shoulders slumped. “No one is leaving. You can’t. Okay, so Eli thinks he had a chat with someone. That doesn’t change a thing. The door isn’t opening until the time is up. We’ve got nine years left. It’s my plan and I’m not changing it.”

Mom put her hands over her face and spoke through them. “Why would you leave Eddy out?”

“I didn’t plan to.” Dad’s voice was softer than before. He stepped backward until he bumped into a bar stool and climbed onto it, gripping the edge of the bar for balance. “I just wanted to leave your mother out. So I left the kitten for Terese to find, I knew she’d bring it along. And I knew your mother would run back to the cabin for Eddy’s medicine. That was key, I think.” He shrugged. “To leave part of the family out there to mourn us. It made it all the more believable and tragic. However, I didn’t plan on Eddy going with her.” He held a hand out toward my mom. “Please believe me, Clea. That hurt me as much as it did you. But it was too late by then.”

Mom dropped her hands and walked over to him. “But I didn’t know!” Her face was so red and her eyes were nearly slits. I had never seen her that angry. “You told me my son and my mother were dead and I believed you. All these years I believed you.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks. She stepped forward and slapped him. Hard.

Dad put a hand up to his cheek. His voice was almost pleading. “Believe me, that broke my heart. Seeing your pain. But the deception was necessary for my plan.”

I wanted to kill him. “Some plan. You screwed up, Dad. The feed, the bulbs.”

His voice was a whisper. “Those weren’t entirely an accident.”

Mom stepped back and grabbed Lexie’s hand.

I couldn’t speak.

“I wanted to create the need for an alternate food source. I’d mentioned it to my… my planners, but I didn’t know for sure how they would make it happen. At the time the livestock died, I was so frustrated. Nothing had been going as I’d planned and I wondered if I should give up. But then I realized it was the perfect opportunity.” His cheek was an angry red. “Those issues created the perfect need for an alternate food source. What I came to call the Donner Effect.”

Lexie was incredulous. “Like those pioneer people who all ate each other? You would have let us die?”

Dad’s expression softened. “No, of course not. Don’t you think the world thought the people on the Oregon Trail were crazy? To leave solid, contented lives for some stupid quest? They weren’t crazy, they were brave. Brave and determined. Our life we were living, our oh-so-easy life, didn’t give any of you a chance to be brave or determined.”