The Truth Circle

by Cameron Ayers

He was unresponsive.

  “Is he still breathing?” Beverly asked.

  Gaby rolled him on his back and was about to perform CPR — despite only having seen it in movies — when water shot out of Wade’s lungs and he gasped for air, panting and coughing as he clung to life.

  “Please … stop. Please,” he begged, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  The shadow of someone standing behind Gaby darkened Wade’s face. She knew who it was by the heavy breathing.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she demanded as she whirled around to face guttural Ken. “You could have …”

  She was abruptly cut off when he coldcocked her with a roundhouse that sent Gaby sprawling face-first into a large ash pile. Gaby struggled to get up, but her head was swimming, and she gagged on the blood coursing down her throat. The best she could manage for several seconds was spitting out blood, which sent the ash skyward. Through the haze of gray, snow-like particles, she saw Ken walking away with his fists clenched.

  “Your compassion just killed us all,” she heard guttural Ken say, his voice sounding faint in her ringing ears as he stormed off.

  Gaby struggled to raise herself off the ground. Her arms felt like rubber.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She looked up and saw Beverly kneeling beside her, still shivering fiercely despite the warmer weather.

  Gaby gritted her teeth and rose to her knees. Her jaw was throbbing, and she felt warm blood ooze out of her split lip and down her neck.

  “I’m … just a little dazed,” Gaby insisted, getting one foot under her.

  “What were you thinking?” Beverly admonished quietly, so as not to attract guttural Ken’s attention. “You know better than to resist him when he’s like … that. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”

  “I couldn’t just let him drown Wade,” Gaby said, finally standing up, leaning on the cabana wall for support.

  “He was trying to save us! It was working! Wade was ready to talk!”

  Gaby wiped the blood from her split lip. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “What’s happened to you?” she asked, genuinely horrified at how fast the group had descended into Lord of the Flies. “I expected this from him, but not you.”

  To her surprise, Beverly looked genuinely hurt.

  “All I wanted to do was live,” Beverly said quietly, raising her left pants leg show that the black mark had spread to her calf. The skin near the ankle appeared mottled, with bands of inky discoloration that gave her skin a slightly bluish tint in this light. “You couldn’t even give me that?”

  Beverly walked off, shaking her head in disgust. Gaby watched her leave, still in shock. The Beverly she knew was vain and thoughtless, to be sure, but not cutthroat. She had even helped Gaby with the delicate matter of her splinter. This Beverly would never do that. She was a manipulative opportunist, groveling at the feet of a sadistic tyrant. Gaby didn’t know — or want to know — this version. She had never felt more isolated in her life.

  Gaby thought back to happier times with Lamar and Coop. She knew now that she had chosen wrong this morning, but had no idea what to do about it. She was so overwrought with guilt and fear that she didn’t even notice Wade fumbling in the dirt, trying to claim a pointy rock on the edge of the campsite. He had rolled over on his side and was trying to pick it up with his hands still tied behind his back. Just as Gaby turned to carry him back to the wigwam, Wade’s right hand snagged the stone, concealing it in his palm.

  Now all he needed to do was wait for the right opportunity to present itself.

  * * * Three Hours Until Sundown * * *

  “You want to do what?” Coop fairly shrieked.

  “I’m going back,” Lamar repeated evenly as the pair stood on the edge of the hill overlooking the bunkers. It was now late afternoon, and the wind was picking up, sending them tantalizing scents from the fast-growing field just beyond the bunker.

  “In the name of God, why?” Coop asked, stupefied.

  “For the others.”

  Coop’s face contorted as he tried to process this.

  “They cast you out! You don’t owe them anything.”

  Lamar smiled stoically, making it clear his mind was already made up.

  “John was right about this place,” he said. “It changes people. It’s turned Ken into something he’s not. And I don’t think the others are far behind.”

  “What are you talking about?” Coop protested. “Ken was always a prick! And a bully.”

  “But not a sadist,” Lamar pointed out. “You saw it last night and again this morning. His threat before we left wasn’t empty. He genuinely wanted to kill me.”

  Coop tugged at his hair in frustration.

  “That’s all the more reason to stay away!”

  “I think it’s also magnified Beverly’s worst tendencies, and now Gaby’s starting to change,” Lamar continued. “Do you think she would have just taken the word of those two before now?”

  Coop could see he was getting nowhere and opted to change tactics.

  “If that’s true, then why haven’t we changed?” he challenged.

  “I think we have,” Lamar responded. “Not so long ago the thought of speaking to a group or taking charge would have rendered me catatonic. And you stopped hiding behind the façade of a happy-go-lucky New Ager days ago.”

  “I suppose,” Coop conceded. “John did say the process was different for everyone. But that still doesn’t explain why you want to go back there.”

  “Because real leaders don’t abandon their team,” Lamar responded without a trace of irony. “They lead by example.”

  Coop gaped at him in wide-eyed astonishment.

  “This isn’t a Gilbert and Sullivan play!” he ranted. “Ken will kill you!”

  Lamar flashed him a small smile.

  “You’re the one who told me to have faith in myself, remember?”

  “There’s a world of difference between faith and foolhardy,” Coop countered sternly. “And you aren’t responsible for their terrible choices. None of this is on you.”

  Lamar simply shrugged.

  “Maybe not, but if I’m going to be the leader you think I am, I have a duty to the others. I have to protect them … even if it means protecting them from themselves.”

  Coop rolled his eyes skyward as though he were pleading for heavenly patience.

  “Look, let’s hunker down here tonight, leave at dawn, and then report the others missing to the first cops we see,” Coop said pleadingly. “This is a job for the pros.”

  Lamar shook his head sadly.

  “This is crazy!” Coop lamented. “We’ve got the map! We can follow it right out of this forest. Don’t throw it all away now.”

  “I’m not asking you to come along,” Lamar replied quietly.

  “Good, because I won’t!” Coop responded with a huff, crossing his arms defiantly. “I followed you before because I trusted your judgment. But this ... this is crazy talk!”

  Lamar gave him a pained expression and extended his hand.

  “Then I guess this is farewell.”

  “Don’t do this,” Coop implored him.

  Lamar kept his hand out, waiting for Coop to take it. Coop could see the determination in Lamar’s face, and after several long seconds, relented.

  They shook hands as Coop gave him a bittersweet smile.

  “If you’re really going to go through with this, then let’s leave it at ‘so long,’” Coop suggested. “Farewell is too final.”

  Lamar smiled warmly at him as they shook.

  “So long, then.”

  Coop tugged on Lamar’s arm and pulled him in for a hug. Lamar reciprocated, and the two held each other, neither man wanting to break the connection, as they both knew this was likely the end.

  “You really have no doubts?” Coop asked the younger man as he clasped him tightly, trying not to tear up.

  “I have a metric fuckton of them,” Lamar replied. “But it’s
what I need to do.”

  Lamar finally broke the hug and clapped Coop on the shoulder.

  “Take care.”

  Coop swallowed hard and nodded, afraid that his voice would crack from emotion if he spoke.

  Lamar started down the hill leading to the field. Midway down, he stopped and turned back.

  “I’ll be walking the shoreline up to the floodplain if you change your mind,” he called out.

  Coop waved in response.

  “Good luck,” he said quietly, his voice quavering as a single tear rolled down his cheek. “You’re going to need it.”

  * * * One Hour Until Sundown * * *

  Gaby sat on a small knoll overlooking the floodplain, watching as the harsh light of the fading sun bathed the land below in a fiery orange glow. It made the stunning growth there appear all the more miraculous.

  The sight was a visual feast, but Gaby had no appetite for beauty. She knew what was happening in the wigwam right now. Almost on cue, she heard another muffled scream of agony. Ken had been torturing Wade for the past 40 minutes; she’d come out here seeking solace, but no matter how far she went, Wade’s screams followed.

  She clenched and unclenched her fists reflexively each time the cry sounded, feeling smaller and more impotent as Wade’s screams turned more desperate. Because of her interference during the last interrogation session, Ken had locked her out of the wigwam to prevent another occurrence.

  So here she sat, waiting for the end to come, trying not to think about what was happening in the teepee. Mostly she thought about Lamar and Coop. Wondering where they were, what they were doing; recalling how she had helped drive them away. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be, and she realized with a burgeoning sense of regret that she was partly to blame. But the worst part was knowing that while she couldn’t accept the status quo, she was also powerless to change it.

  Another scream of pain echoed in her ears.

  As she wallowed in guilt and self-loathing, Gaby noticed Beverly sidling up to a desiccated maple tree some 30 yards to the northwest. Beverly’s back was turned but she was instantly recognizable from her white jacket, frosted hair and constant shivering. Gaby noticed that she was favoring her left leg as she walked. Evidently, the black mark had worked its way down to her foot.

  Beverly stopped at the center of the tree and leaned forward to peek into the large hollow in its center, no doubt hoping to find dry wood on the interior suitable for burning. Only she hadn’t brought the hand ax with her.

  “Your forgot the hatchet,” Gaby called out as Beverly was reaching into the hollow. Beverly started, pulling her hand back like it had touched a hot stove. She looked around anxiously until she spotted Gaby on the knoll.

  “What? I don’t understand,” Beverly said uncomprehendingly. Her facial muscles twitched nervously as the words tumbled out of her mouth.

  “If you’re looking for dry wood, you need the hatchet.”

  “Ah!” Beverly replied, finally understanding. “Given the hour, I think that ship has sailed.”

  She slowly climbed the knoll, struggling to find her footing before joining Gaby at the top.

  “How’s the jaw?” Beverly asked as she sat beside her.

  In response, Gaby touched it lightly with her finger before grimacing in pain. Ken had done a real number on her jaw, and it was already beginning to swell. Just another bruise on a body that too many men had abused over the years.

  “Still aches,” Gaby replied glumly.

  Beverly leaned in to examine the growing bruise with her good hand. Gaby jerked away from her touch, afraid. Seeing Gaby’s reaction, Beverly quickly retracted her hand.

  “I keep forgetting,” she said apologetically. “It’s strange to think of myself as some kind of leper.”

  Gaby grimaced at the description but said nothing.

  “I know you think Ken’s a monster,” Beverly said quietly, shivering as they watched the sunset together. “And maybe he is one. But he’s doing this to save us.”

  Gaby sniffed as Wade gave another cry of agony in the distance.

  “He doesn’t give a damn about either one of us,” Gaby retorted. “The only one he’s trying to save is himself.”

  Beverly turned to face her.

  “If that’s what it takes to get us out of here, do the reasons really matter?” she asked coaxingly.

  “They used to,” Gaby said, blinking back tears of regret. “We weren’t so … ruthless before.”

  “Ken is in charge now,” Beverly said firmly. “You need to come to terms with that.”

  Gaby lowered her eyes and traced a finger in the dirt.

  “And what if I can’t?”

  In the distance, they could hear Wade screaming again.

  “Then you know what happens.”

  Beverly doubled over as another coughing fit consumed her. She covered her mouth with a monogrammed handkerchief, which came away bloody. The blood shone dark red, almost black, under the fading sun’s stark rays.

  “Gaby, I know we’ve had our differences, but there was a time not so long ago that I thought of us as friends,” Beverly said, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth.

  Gaby lowered her gaze and allowed herself a small smile, recalling Beverly’s assistance on the second day.

  “So did I,” she said quietly.

  “Then one friend to another, you and Ken need to bury the hatchet, so to speak. At this rate, I won’t be around to keep the peace for much longer.”

  The smile faded from Gaby’s face, and her eyes unfocused as she reflected on something that had been troubling her for a while now.

  “Hatchet?” she said to herself, recalling the start of the conversation.

  “Gaby?” Beverly asked tentatively, watching her zone out but not understanding why.

  “When I asked about the hatchet for cutting wood, you said that ship had already sailed,” Gaby said softly, still working things out as she spoke. “Meaning, you didn’t go to that tree for wood. What were you looking for?”

  Beverly grinned nervously.

  “Oh, this and that. Just exploring, really,” she said.

  Gaby’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as she studied Beverly’s reaction. She leapt to her feet and started down the knoll.

  “Wait!” Beverly called out. “Where are you going?”

  “Exploring,” Gaby said over her shoulder as she made a beeline for the tree.

  “But … but I’ve already checked that one!” Beverly shouted frantically as she struggled to stand up with only one good arm and an increasingly useless left leg. “There’s nothing to see, honest!”

  Beverly’s denials only fueled Gaby’s suspicions.

  “Then you wouldn’t mind if I took a little peek myself.”

  “You don’t want to do that!” Beverly cried out as she slid down the knoll’s muddy edges. “Please believe me!”

  Gaby reached the tree and stood on her toes to lean over and peer inside the tree’s two-foot-wide hollow. She caught a glint of something metallic near the base and reached for it.

  “Stop this foolishness at once!” Beverly demanded as she raced over.

  Gaby’s hand came up holding a round metal canister. She turned it over and saw that it was a can of beef barley soup, the same brand John had brought with them. And her fingers had brushed up against at least two other cans down there.

  “I … I found them by the tree,” Beverly lied, shaking like a leaf. “Lamar must have dropped them when he was stealing all our food.”

  Gaby covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with shock and horror as she tried to process her discovery. The can slipped from her numb fingers and fell to the ground.

  “Lamar was right!” Gaby exclaimed, struggling to speak as she registered the depth of Beverly’s betrayal. “He said you two were conspiring against him. I … I didn’t believe him; couldn’t believe him. It was too absurd. But it was all true.”

  Gaby suddenly rounded on Beverly, furious.
>
  “That whole thing with the missing cans, your story about Lamar sneaking food, was all that a charade?” she demanded, struggling to believe it herself. “Why? Just to get rid of him?”

  Beverly looked away, quivering.

  “Answer me!” Gaby shouted.

  “Because there were too many people and not enough food,” Ken said from behind, startling them both. He emerged from a withered thicket 15 feet away. Wade’s blood dripped from his clenched fists.

  “You abandoned Lamar and Coop to die in the wilderness just so you could stuff your face?” Gaby asked, indignant.

  “We threw out Lamar because he was in the way. Count Fagula left of his own accord,” Ken corrected her as he approached. “And if they hadn’t gone, we’d all be starving now.”

  “What about Lamar stealing the water and my bra yesterday? Was that a lie, too?” Gaby pressed.

  Ken smirked in response.

  “And that thing with the directions? You fooled him into walking us in a giant circle?”

  “I can’t take full credit for that one,” Ken admitted with a chuckle. “Sure, I told him that east was north for solar navigation, but I only expected him to get us lost. It never occurred to me that little shit would do it so many times we’d wind up back where we started. That was just icing on the cake.”

  “So … when he got us lost, you could swoop in and save the day,” Gaby said, a look of comprehension slowly crossing her countenance. “This was never about food. You wanted control of the group.”

  “And now … I have it,” Ken sneered.

  “The hell you do,” Gaby said defiantly.

  “Gaby, it doesn’t have to be this way,” Beverly pleaded.

  “You both tricked us, stole from the group, lied to banish two people and now you’ve escalated to torture,” Gaby said, ticking off their crimes one by one. “Yeah, it does.”

  “Okay, playtime is over,” Ken said menacingly as he strode forward. “Save your pity party for after you get the fire going.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Ken cracked his knuckles and leaned in, invading her personal space, but Gaby wouldn’t be cowed so easily. She held her ground, watching as his eyes flickered with rage, knowing it wouldn’t be long before guttural Ken made his appearance.