His body was numb. Everything other than his hands and his face felt like blocks of ice. He had stopped shivering now. His body was starting to shut down, and his mind had silenced its desperation for survival. It had given up and was just waiting for a quiet, gentle death. Most of him was underwater. Just his face and his hands and his feet were above it. But not for long.

  The suspense was torment. Part of him still just wanted it to be over. To give up hope and die. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to Liza. She had survived six months with Alex. He could survive a few minutes longer in the water. He tried again. The water rose almost to his mouth. He had to keep pushing. He knew he was going to die if he didn’t. But the rope wouldn't budge.

  Liza

  I run to the next house, bat in tow. I have to find the exit. There has to be some way out of here and to the camp so I can find Nick. Laughter has begun to fill the speakers that are everywhere, but the day and night changes have stopped. I know the maniacal laughter is Alex, but it barely sounds like him. There is no control in this laugh. There is only chaos and venom.

  I reach the next house and see the garage is standing open. I half-expect it to be another piece of wallpaper, but when I get close, I see something my eyes have trouble believing. It looks like a car with a rain cover on it. I run to it, noticing how bright the rims gleam back at me. I’d never heard or seen a car going down the road other than Alex’s. It doesn’t seem possible this is real. But I can’t walk away from it just because it doesn’t seem real.

  Yanking the cover off, I nearly cry. It’s my car. Shoved into this garage as some sort of sick inside joke. A 2015 model compact in a neighborhood meant to be the 1950s. I almost laugh at the thought that I once felt like my car was old. Here it’s a veritable spaceship. Alex was so confident in me never wanting to leave; he had tucked my car away a few hundred yards from where I was and didn’t bother to take the keys from the ignition. That will be a lesson he’ll have to learn.

  Opening the door, I slide in, taking a deep breath, hoping against hope that if I turn that key still dangling from the ignition, the car will start. I close my eyes and turn.

  It roars to life.

  Thanking God for Alex’s arrogance in that moment, I throw the car into first and peel out. Turning the bright lights on helps me see the walls for what they are. Solid cement, with a backdrop in front of them. Here and there are gaps in the backdrop, and I can see wires and cords and cement. I turn at the end of the street and see that the road just ends. There is a back alley-like area, but no more road. I turn down the alley, looking for any sign of a door. Any sign of a way out.

  It hits me.

  ‘Closer than you think.’

  Alex wasn’t just warning me that he would be able to get back to me too fast for me to escape. He was telling me what he’d done.

  He didn’t bring Nick to Camp Pine Trails or even meet him there. He created his own town, and I know in my gut he created an homage to the camp. Nick isn't at the camp; he's here. Somewhere. There has to be another soundstage.

  ‘Closer than you think.’

  He was taunting me, telling me he was going to kill my husband in the building where I already am.

  My brights hover over the wall behind the house I had been imprisoned in. I can just make out a silver line on the wall behind the backdrop. It looks like a grated door. Like a garage door. All logic has to leave my mind. Now isn’t the time to be cautious.

  Revving the engine, I wait until the car is at maximum RPMs. If I am going to hit that door and crash, I want to hit it so hard I die. Otherwise, I am going through it to see what's on the other side.

  I let go of the clutch, and the car roars down the alley. I hold my eyes shut tight as I brace for impact.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Nick

  The water was rising, almost above his lips. The rope still wouldn’t break, and his arm was weak, too weak to pull anymore. He ran out of time. He took a deep breath and thought about Liza.

  Something crashed beyond the canoe, out in the distance where he thought nothing would ever exist again. Seconds later, he heard voices. He didn’t want to trust himself. It must have been his mind disappearing.

  One of them sounded like Liza. He took a deep breath. The water crawled up his nose.

  Alex

  Looking out over the lake, Alex could see the canoe almost under water completely. If Nick wasn't dead yet, he soon would be. Then Mary would be free, free to release herself of the burden of her former marriage, free to release Liza and embrace her true self. To become the perfect wife. His Mary.

  She was still trapped in the town he’d created for her, for them. He’d go back to her soon and welcome her into his open arms. Disciplining her might be hard for both of them, but it would be what was right. Only good would come of it. For now, he needed to check on the progress at the lake. Julian was so obedient. Such a good helper.

  Such a good scapegoat.

  A sound crashing behind him startled him enough to make him stumble as he made his way toward the lake, sand from the area around the lake dug down deep into his cut, and he could feel the stinging of it pulling at his skin. Rolling onto his back to see what it was, he saw a car had crashed through the door that led from one soundstage to the other.

  Her car.

  He didn't care how she found it or how she found the door or how she figured out how to get in. He knew she would come here one way or the other, for Nick. Alex had only wished she would have a change of heart before she did. This would make it so much more of a hassle.

  As it was, she was too late. Now she had no choice but to let go, become who she should be. He stood up, shaking the sand off his pants, looking at the car as the driver door opened.

  Out she came, holding a baseball bat like some punk kid. This wasn't Mary. This wasn't what she was supposed to do. She was supposed to come see the evidence of all the hard work he had gone through to free her of her old life. She was supposed to be happy, to throw her arms around his neck, and be overwhelmed with relief that he saved her.

  She staggered to him, obviously shaken by the crashing of the car. He wanted to go to her, to hold her and make sure she was okay. To chide her for being so silly as to crash a car. Instead, he stood rock solid. Waiting for her to come to him. She still had an apology to make.

  As she got closer, she tightened her grip around the bat and narrowed her eyes at him. He held out a hand, palm out to her.

  "Mary, before you do something you will regret, you need to listen to me."

  She stopped several feet away, her eyes burning into his with terror and anger and frustration. He understood that. Of course she would be terrified, he reasoned. She was outside the house. Anger and frustration were obviously meant for Nick, and the danger he put Alex in by coming after her. She was clearly mad at herself.

  "Where is he?" she asked through gritted teeth.

  It made sense for her to want to know where his body was. It was the only way to know for sure it was over. Pointing out to the lake, he drew her attention to the canoe.

  "Almost gone now," he said, a soft smile on his face. "He was so stupid to think I would fall for his trick. He called in a report to the fire station, knowing they would call me. I caught him just outside of the soundstage and brought him here. Now he is going to sink to the bottom of the lake and add to the story. The old camp is damaged, but this," he waved an arm to encompass the masterfully recreated set, "this is perfect. Welcome to Camp Pine Trails, Mary!"

  Nick

  The water engulfed him, and the canoe spun as the water filled it. Slowly it turned until he faced the sky. The stars were so beautiful. His eyes scanned until he saw the Big Dipper. His thoughts turned to Liza as he stared at the constellation and let out his breath.

  Liza

  I run to the edge of the water, but Alex cuts me off. I grip the bat tightly and prepare myself to swing, but he smiles. It throws me off, that smile. I want to bash his brains in and dive into the water, but the fear of it, even still, makes me feel like I am going to throw up. The water is where this all started when I was hurt, or so he said. In the lake behind the house. I know it’s not true; that I was hurt while he was murdering Rebecca, but the fear still takes hold. It infuriates me that he still has that control. His manipulation hasn’t been completely broken.

  As if he knows what I’m thinking, Alex shifts his eyes and looks back toward the bay door. He points at it with one finger, a grin across his face.

  "See, Mary? The house is just beyond that door," he says, and I look back for a second to see. There it is, the back of the house, right beyond the door, the house I was trapped in, where I thought I was someone else. Where I was someone else. "It's just like I said, Mary. The lake is right behind the house."

  His mouth opens wide as he begins to laugh. It is a deep, full laugh, the laugh of a man gone mad. Everything I experienced over the last six months runs through my mind. Every indignity, every moment of being told my memories were of something they weren't. Every fake memory he tried to implant in my brain, all of it, and anger rose through my body. I’m angry for myself. I’m angry for Rebecca. I’m angry for Mallory. My voice, my hands, are all that’s left to seek vengeance for all of us. I feel heat burning my cheeks. My eyes begin to water, and the hair stands up on my arms.

  For the first time in my life, true, pure rage courses through me. I grip the bat hard and swing back, planting my foot like Nick had taught me one summer long ago. I step forward and swing out, aiming for that laugh, those teeth, that sound. The voice that had controlled me for too long. I want to kill that voice.

  The bat connects, and a crushing, crunching, sick sound breaks the laughter. A sound like a half scream escapes his lips before the body goes crumbling down. His head bounces off the sand, and I contemplate hitting him more. Hitting him until the blood pools around the ground, and his brains are scattered among the grass. But my thoughts turn to Nick. The canoe is underwater now. I can see where the ripples are, where the air is still escaping, where he is drowning.

  I drop the bat to the sand and step out near the water. I have to control this; I have to remember all that fear, all of the stories, that's all they were. Stories. I need to help Nick.

  I take a step into the water. It washes up over me, sending an icy sensation along my skin. Without giving myself time to think about it, I dive in, pushing my body down into the water in the direction I saw the canoe last. Swimming until I have to try, I duck my head underwater. It's murky, but in a manufactured way, like a small amount of dirt was added to the bottom when the lake was built just to give the water the cloudy appearance. I can see ahead of me enough that in the distance I see a boat, now turned right side up, settling on the bottom of the lakebed. It's not very deep, and I swim closer, coming back up once for air.

  Taking a lungful of oxygen, I dive back down, straight for the boat. When I reach it, I can see Nick, tied to the inside. My heart races as I realize he isn’t breathing. No bubbles are coming from his nose, and his mouth hangs open. I swim to him as fast as I can and yank at the ropes that tie his hands. One comes off rather easily as I pull at the loop, but the other is snug. I struggle with it, pulling with all of my energy until it unravels. His feet are still tied, but they are much looser. Getting them undone, I grab his body by the waist and begin heading to the surface. My lungs burn, and I desperately need to breathe. I have been underwater far too long, and I am afraid I won't make it.

  But I have to. Alex won’t take us from each other. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

  I swim toward the stars above us, pushing Nick's head ahead of me, hoping to get him above water first. He needs to breathe. He can't die. As I get close, my eyes fall on the Big Dipper.

  I push harder, and we break the surface of the water. Dragging in deep shallow breaths, I rest his head on my shoulder and hold him by the waist. I kick with what energy I have left until we reach the sand. Pulling him up onto the shore, I collapse on top of him.

  Pushing on his chest, I do everything I can remember from the summer I was a lifeguard. Chest compressions, breathing into his mouth, more chest compressions, more breathing.

  It goes on forever. Nothing is happening, and I am panicking. I am praying under my breath, begging for him to come back.

  More chest compressions. More breathing. My entire body is shaking. Tears and sweat and spit and blood mix in my mouth and my eyes. More chest compressions. More breathing.

  Suddenly there is a gurgle, a cough, and I collapse to my side as he begins to convulse and spit up water. A laugh escapes my lips as the exhaustion and adrenaline peak. I saved him. It's over.

  Something pulls on my hair, and I try to reach up. Before I can find it, a fist crunches into the side of my face. Without warning, I am up in the air and being tossed backward.

  When I land on the ground, I roll and see Alex looming over me, blood swirling across his face from his new wound. He licks his lips, and I see where he is now missing a couple of teeth. He looks down at me and spits.

  Alex

  Ungrateful, that's what she is.

  When Alex saw her pull Nick out of the water, bringing him back to life, that was the last straw. No woman got to flaunt herself over him, not even his perfect Mary. If she had to learn the hard way, so be it.

  He had thrown her to the ground violently, but that obviously wasn't enough. That wasn't going to fill the void the rage was making in his heart. He needed her to know just how much she disappointed him. Just how broken-hearted he was. He was going to have to hurt her the way she hurt him. He spit out a broken tooth, feeling around his mouth with his tongue. There were a few missing now.

  "You have made a tremendous number of mistakes today, Mary. I am a very patient man. A very caring man. A very loving man. But you have gone to the very end of my patience. This ends now," he said.

  Her eyes darted away from him, to Nick. He looked back and saw that he hadn't moved. He lay on his side, coughing up water, vomiting, and being generally useless. Like always.

  "Leave me alone," she said, in a voice deeper than she used to address him.

  It was sharp and modern and ugly. It sounded like trash coming from her mouth. He needed to shut that down, shut her up, make her realize that she was better than that, better than trash. Better than those ugly, modern women. She was the perfect wife. She had been so close to the perfect wife for six months. She would be again. She would be even better. All he had to do was prove it to her.

  "What you need is a strong man, Mary. A strong man who can show you the error of your ways. I am that strong man. I provided for you when you had nothing with him. I gave you everything you could have ever wanted, and you spit in my face like some common whore."

  "My name," she spat back at him, "is Liza!"

  Liza

  I rush into Alex, popping up onto my feet and exploding into his midsection with every bit of my body weight. We tumble onto the ground, and the sand fills my clothes, making it hard to stand and gain my bearing. He is up before I am, and he grabs my throat with both of his hands. I try to resist him, but he is stronger than I am, so I roll us over again.

  Just beyond my reach, I can see the bat as I roll, and when we stop, I am on top of him. His hands close around me, but I swing at his face wildly, pounding my fists into the bloody mess that is his nose and eyes. I know he is having trouble seeing with the blood and my punches, but he tries to squeeze harder. I can feel my breath leaving me, and I have to reach for his fingers to pull them off. One of the fingers lifts up, and I bite down on it hard. Soon all of his fingers release, and he begins to pull at my mouth. I let go and scramble off of him, crawling as fast as I can for the bat.

  I reach it and spin around. Alex is already on top of me, and I try to swing it at him. It lands in his ribs, and he grunts deeply but catches the bat under his arm. I try to wrench it free, but he pulls it away from me and spins it in his hand. Suddenly it is down over my throat, Alex pushing it down.

  I try to hold both ends, trying to keep them away from me, but he is bigger and stronger, and he leans all of his weight down. Purple spots begin to dance in front of my eyes again. I can feel myself losing strength, losing the ability to fight. I can only hold on so much longer.

  From above him, I see an oar, crashing down. It lands on the back of Alex's head, and he folds beside me, releasing his grip on one side of the bat. I roll out of the way, toward Nick, who falls to his knees.

  "Run," he says, "I don't have much strength, but I can hold him here for you. Go."

  "No," I say. "This ends now. With me."

  I turn to stand just in time for Alex to push me out of the way. He cranks a swing off on Nick, crushing his ribs and sending him back down into the sand. I gain my footing again and jump on his back, clawing at his eyes. Blood smears all over me as I try to dig under his eyeballs. He yells and throws me off of him, the bat tumbling with me as he loses his grip.

  When I get to my knees, I see the bat beside me and grab it with both hands. Alex is looking around his feet for it, one eye closed and the other bloodshot. Slowly his attention comes back to me, and for the first time, I see fear cross his eyes.

  "Mary, put the bat down," he says, his voice returning to the measured, deep baritone I recognize from months of captivity.

  "My name," I repeat through gritted teeth, each syllable a universe of its own anger and pain and hate, "is Liza!"

  I swing downward this time, crashing the bat between his eyes. He slumps down to one knee, and I swing again. A sick squishing sound accompanies the crack of the bat on his skull as I hit him near the back of the head. His body falls, and I raise the bat above my head again. My mind is racing with a thousand indignities, all the little cuts and bruises in my mind that I suffered from his little game. One inexplicably wells up inside me, and I shout it down to him.