Sarah Harian - The Wicked We Have Done

“What do they call you?”

“Jace,” she says warily. She studies me up and down, mindlessly clutching the strap of her backpack and wringing it.

An awkward silence fills the air between us before I say, “Okay, Jace. I’m gonna take a look around. See if I can figure out where we are.”

“The door isn’t locked?”

I didn’t even think of that. Simple stained wood, the door is so unlike the bars I’m used to staring at for hours on end. I walk toward it, place my hand on the brass handle, and turn. With a click, the door creaks open.

“Not locked.” I peer into the hall.

The dry air smells of cedar and dust. Light streaks across the floor from the sole window to my left. Six doors line the hall, two of them open. At the right end, a staircase leads downward and toward the trickling of voices.

“I’ll be back.”

“Please”—Jace clutches her bag to her chest—“don’t leave me here alone.”

The way she begs me makes no sense. A moment before, she had seemed frightened of me. Maybe Jace is afraid of everything. And she’s supposed to be a morally tarnished criminal. Are you kidding me?

I’d rather not have anyone tagging along, but she’s too pathetic to say no to.

“Come on, then.”

She hurries to me, holding her pack close. Once in the hall, I fling my own onto my shoulders and adjust the straps until it’s tight against my back. Jace and I walk side by side to the staircase.

Erity stands in the center of the living room, gazing at the stone-lined fireplace, the huge leather sofas, the overhanging chandelier made entirely out of deer antlers. She wears a pack too.

In the kitchen, Stella opens and closes each cabinet. “There’s food! And liquor. Lots and lots of liquor.”

A small squeak escapes Jace’s throat.

“Holy shit.”

Valerie has snuck up on us. She stares over my shoulder.

We’ve woken up in a mountain resort with food and tons of booze. It’s like the government’s secret evil plan is to reward us for our bad behavior.

Salem enters from the deck. That’s six of us. Four still sleep. “Is there anyone here?” I ask. “Anyone besides us?”

“Not that I can tell,” Salem says.

“No guards?”

“Nope.” He harbors a fevered glint. “Looks like they left us all alone.”

A chill runs up my back. Stuck here with this bastard—a boy who raped thirteen girls—isn’t exactly what I’d call a vacation.

“He won’t touch you,” Valerie murmurs, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. “You know what I do to fuckers who can’t keep their hands to themselves.”

I do know. Not just from her crime, but from her infamy in our prison wing.

“Did we ever talk?” I ask. “In the H Wing?”

“I didn’t talk. I kicked the shit out of people.” She shrugs. “And you . . . you got the shit kicked out of you enough. Picking on you wouldn’t have been satisfying.”

“Oh, thanks,” I respond dryly.

A wry smile twists her lips. “Maybe we should have talked . You know . . . been prison BFFs or something.”

“You would’ve gotten bored real quick. I’m far too vanilla for your tastes.”

“What’s vanilla?” Jace whispers. She gapes at us with owl eyes.

Valerie’s mouth twitches like she’s itching to laugh. When she reaches out and pats Jace’s shoulder, Jace flinches. Without answering her, Valerie turns back to me. “Too vanilla as a friend or a fuck buddy?”

I narrow my eyes. “Both.”

She sighs dramatically. “Yeah, you’re right. I probably would have gotten bored of you real fast.” She steps forward, leaning against the balcony. “You were a good little prison inmate, letting all those girls beat the snot out of you without a fight. But here . . . we have some freedom now. I better keep an eye on you, Ibarra.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You afraid of me?”

She bursts into laughter and makes her way down the stairs.

“I don’t get it,” Jace says when Valerie’s out of reach. “Was she flirting with you?”

“I don’t think so. I think we made an alliance.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, and then asks, “Can I be in on the alliance?”

I grin inwardly and nod. “Sure.”

In prison, alliances are created so inmates can watch each other’s backs for potential attackers. But I don’t know what an alliance here means.

I study Salem and the space between us, vacant of bars or chains or glass. Vacant of any form of protection.

Maybe here, you need people watching your back too.

Other than a huge deck overlooking the forest, there isn’t much else to explore in the stone-crusted lodge. The air outside is clean and cool, dense with the scent of evergreen and soil.

We’ve been dropped in the middle of nowhere.

The rest have woken. Casey wears a grimace like he’s ready to beat the living hell out of someone. I’m starting to wonder if he always looks like a vicious dog.

Stella walks into the kitchen. She unzips her backpack and rummages through cupboards, collecting various cans of food and tossing them into her bag.

“It’s a bad idea,” Casey calls from the living room.

“What is?” I ask.

“I’m leaving,” Stella says. She flips back her blonde hair and zips up her pack, tossing it over her shoulder.

“Leaving? To where?”

“They knocked us out, dumped us here, and gave us survival gear. So I’m going away. To anywhere.”

“So you’re going to wander into the wilderness?” Valerie chuckles sarcastically. She leans back against the marble of the kitchen island. “Great plan, dipshit.”

Stella’s fingers grip the straps of her backpack so tightly that her knuckles are white. “They gave us provisions, and there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around here with you creeps.”

“You have no idea what’s out there,” Casey says.

Stella barks a laugh. “You honestly think I’m safer here? With a bunch of killers and a rapist?”

“I’ll only show you a good time, sweetheart,” says Salem as he rummages through cabinets on the other side of the kitchen. It’s such a half-assed comment, like he’s making his presence known because he can.

“Point taken,” says Casey. “But if they gave us provisions, outside must be where our tests are.”

“Oh, stop pretending you care what happens to me. You’re as bad as Salem. All of you are.”

Casey tenses. “You don’t know me.”

“And you don’t know me,” says Stella. “I’m not afraid of those tests because I shouldn’t even be here.”

Valerie scoffs. “Oh yeah, I’m sure you were totally justified in burning alive your boyfriend and his whole family.”

Stella winces. “Fuck you,” she hisses before crossing the living room and heaving open the front door.

“Good riddance,” Casey says when she’s gone.

The tension after Stella leaves is awkward and volatile. Her departure brings the realization that not only do we not know where we are, but we can’t trust anyone we’re stuck with. We’ve been given provisions, so it’s obvious that, if this is the Compass Room, we are meant to head out. It’s either that or stay in a house full of psychopaths.

While Valerie and Jace sit out on the deck, Salem and Gordon speak quietly to each other in the kitchen. Casey’s retreated upstairs, and I’m left in the living room with Tanner, Erity, and Blaise.

I haven’t heard Blaise speak once. Dark and tall, he lies on the couch, his limbs dangling over the sides. He clutches a leather-bound book to his chest that he must have picked up from the shelves in the living room. It looks like a Bible.

Tanner sits in the armchair next to mine. His gaze is fixed on Blaise, intent.