Desire ❃ newt

cнapтer 4

Me and Thomas leaned against a tree as we waited for Chuck.

My eyes scanned the compound of the Glade, this new place of nightmares where I seemed destined to live.

The shadows from the walls had lengthened considerably, already creeping up the sides of the ivy-covered stone faces on the other side.

At least this helped me know directions—the wooden building crouched in the northwest corner, wedged in a darkening patch of shadow, the grove of trees in the southwest. The farm area, where a few workers were still picking their way through the fields, spreading across the entire northeast quarter of the Glade. The animals were in the southeast corner, mooing and crowing and baying.

In the exact middle of the courtyard, the still-gaping hole of the Box lay open, as if inviting myself to jump back in and go home. Near that, maybe twenty feet to the south, stood a squat building made of rough concrete blocks, a menacing iron door its only entrance—there were no windows. A large round handle resembling a steel steering wheel marked the only way to open the door, just like something within a submarine. Despite what I'd just seen, I didn't know which I felt more strongly—curiosity to know what was inside, or dread at finding out.

I had just moved my attention to the four vast openings in the middle of the main walls of the Glade when Chuck arrived, a couple of sandwiches cradled in his arms, along with apples and three metal cups of water.

"Frypan wasn't too happy about me invading his kitchen before suppertime," Chuck said, sitting down next to the tree, motioning to me and Thomas to do the same. I did, grabbed the sandwich, but hesitated, the writhing, monstrous image of what I had just seen in the shack popping back into my mind. Soon, though, my hunger won out and I took a huge bite. The wonderful tastes of ham and cheese and mayonnaise filled my mouth.

"Ah, man," Thomas mumbled through a mouthful. "I was starving."

"Told ya." Chuck chomped into his own sandwich.

After another couple of bites, I finally asked the question that had been bothering me ever since I've stepped out of the homestead. "What's actually wrong with that Ben guy? He doesn't even look human anymore."

Chuck glanced over at the house. "Don't really know," he muttered absently. "I didn't see him."

I could tell the boy was being less than honest but decided not to press him. "Well, you don't want to see him, trust me." We continued to eat, munching on the apples as I studied the huge breaks in the walls.

Though it was hard to make out from where I sat, there was something odd about the stone edges of the exits to the outside corridors. I felt an uncomfortable sense of vertigo looking at the towering walls, as if I hovered above them instead of sitting at their base.

"What's out there?" I asked, finally breaking the silence between the three of us. "Is this part of a huge castle or something?"

Chuck hesitated. Looked uncomfortable. "Um, I've never been outside the Glade."

I paused. "You're hiding something," I finally replied, finishing off my last bite and taking a long swig of water. The frustration at getting no answers from anyone was starting to grind my nerves. It only made it worse to think that even if I did get answers, I still wouldn't know if he'd be getting the truth. "Why are you guys so secretive?"

"That's just the way it is. Things are really weird around here, and most of us don't know everything. Half of everything."

It bothered me that Chuck didn't seem to care about what he'd just said. That he seemed indifferent to having his life taken away from him. What was wrong with these people?