The Wicked We Have Done

13

By the end of it, I’m not thinking about my crime. I’m thinking about her. How I only care that her life was taken. Not the others who died. Not the one I killed.

Just her. Proof that I will always be a selfish, wicked person.

“I hated you so much when I first learned about you,” Casey said. “When I learned I’d be in here with you, I couldn’t wait to watch you die first. I felt like when people thought of us they thought of you, that we were all as chaotic and destructive as you.” He shakes his head, tearing up. “I wasn’t sure whether I was evil, but I knew I was a saint compared to you.”

“I swear, Casey.” My voice shakes with every word. “I’m telling you everything. I’m telling you the truth.”

“I know. And you shouldn’t be here.”

“Don’t say that.” He doesn’t get it. “I killed someone. I gave in to exactly what they wanted. I’m as guilty as Nick.”

“You’ve held us together in here. You’ve taken the lead in everything we’ve done as a group.” His voice rises. “And for you to tell me that you think you’re as guilty as Nick . . .”

“It was my . . .”

“No!” He scoots closer, looming over me. “Everything you did was because you loved her, and nothing will change that. Not Nick, not a court ruling, not the Compass Room. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You’re better than that.”

“I’m nothing,” I say. His lips find mine.

He is rough without hurting me, demanding without being forceful. He breathes my name with every kiss, fingers in my hair. His mouth is wild and greedy, like he will never get enough of me before we run out of time. I dig my nails into his back.

His lips trail to my ear. “Don’t you dare, for one second, think you deserve this place.”

His cheeks are wet—I don’t know whether from me or from him.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I kind of lost it.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And he does. He kisses me until my face is dry and he’s worn himself out. “And now I have to reflect on that?” he says. “It’s like reliving my own nightmare again.”

I know how he feels.

We walk back to camp hand in hand. Some deep part of me feels empowered, although I’m not really sure why. I should be miserable, having to reveal my doubts about myself to the one person I’ve grown to care about most. The one person who seems to respect the darker parts of me. Meghan would have, I know that.

Casey, I feel, is all I have left.

“I have to pee.” He releases my hand. “Meet you back at camp.”

I nod and continue along the creek after he leaves. The sun is a few hours from setting, and the light sits slanted in the sky, shadows stretching out for a night of play. It’s why I don’t see Gordon at first, because the entire opposite bank is shrouded in darkness.

When I notice him, I halt and don’t make a sound, forcing myself to rapidly come to terms with what I’m seeing.

One of Gordon’s arms pins Tanner to him.

I scream Casey’s name.

I’m not as frightened as I should be. Anger has made a hostage of me—he thinks he still has power to wield.

Tanner’s eyes are entirely vacant.

“You stupid, stupid boy,” I yell. “Wasting your time with your fucked-up fantasies. You know you can’t hurt him.”

Gordon’s face casts a demonic expression. I can’t watch him and stay sane all at once, so I focus my attention on Tanner. What is he doing? He can’t be paralyzed by fear—not with the way he attacked Gordon in the cave.

But his eyes tell me nothing, other than the fact that perhaps he’s given up.

Where’s Casey? Valerie, Jace—they had to have heard me scream. But no one’s coming.

“Fight him!” I shriek at Tanner.

I’m about to throw myself into the water to fight Gordon myself when Tanner opens his mouth. But instead of words, blood froths from his lips.

Gordon releases him. Tanner drops to his knees and flops forward, the hilt of a knife jutting from his back.

No.

Gordon twirls his hand in front of him and bows. “I hope my appearance has been entertaining.”

And then he runs.

I throw myself into the creek, thrusting my legs against the current. I fall forward on the bank, clawing at grass, crawling to reach him.

Blades disintegrate in the Compass Room. This is nothing but an elaborate illusion.

I grab on to the hilt and yank. From Tanner’s back I rip away a full, blood-slick blade.

I can’t stop. Can’t think about this boy, about the liquid heat trickling from him.

There’s no time. I jump to my feet and run. My body is a furnace. The flames have all but eaten my shell. There’s nothing left of me to feel. I’ve only been like this once before, the need to kill hollowing me out.

Gordon is slow. He is prey. I am on to him before he even knows he’s being hunted. I hurtle over a log and in midjump, grasp on to his hair.

I yank.

He falls to his back. For a brief moment before I plunge the knife into him I see the first flicker of terror in his eyes.

And then it’s done.

He ceases. Everything is artery red. His chest, my hands. I smell it everywhere, leaching onto the grass and into the earth.

There is no last sputtering breath. He is gone.

“Evalyn!” Casey screams.

“Take me,” I say to no one. “Take me. I’m ready to die.”

“Ev!” It’s Valerie. She’s closer.

The three of them crowd around me at once, garbled, blurry monsters. They touch me, but I’m far away.

Someone’s crying. It might be me. No, it’s Jace.

All of my nerves shatter at once. I ball my hand into a fist and raise it, but before I can slam it into Gordon’s dead chest, Casey’s fingers clamp around my wrist.

“You motherfucker!” I scream. “You fucking piece of shit!”

I fight against Casey until my energy is spent, until I’m soaked with the reality of what I’ve done. Whom I’ve killed, and whom he’s killed.

Casey presses his forehead to the back of my neck and cries.

I wait until he’s quieted before I say through a throat of cotton, “The Compass Room is going to kill me now.”