He’d keep Kids’ Camp on the field behind the compound from sunrise to long past dark, suspending schoolwork, with no exception for the heat. They sat beneath the unrelenting sun, waiting for their turn to be “conditioned.” She heard the boys refer to their long days of softball as boot camp. They woke, they ate, they ran two miles in the desert, and after that Taured would have them work out in the obstacle course he’d created, having them do sit-ups and push-ups at various points until it was time to break into teams and play softball. In the evenings, they’d have more games, during which the parents would gather to watch. Most everyone was pretty okay at it, but there were a couple kids who largely sucked. Summer was one of them, and she was on this week’s rotation of humiliation.

“What’s the matter with you? I’ve never seen a more useless woman.” He was rough when he repositioned her, his eyes glassy. She recognized the look inside of them; his eyes got like that when he was in his bad moods. When he was in one of these moods he was dangerous; he’d put words in your mouth if he needed to punish you, create conflict where there was none. Her dread picked up speed when she looked over at third base and saw that a kid named Skye was pitching. Kids’ Camp was divided into the boys’ side and the girls’ side, and the two sides didn’t interact much as a rule. But what she did know about the man/boy who had eyelashes that looked like pale spider legs was that he was cruel. And worse than that: Taured liked him. Skye made eye contact with her, and she felt a plunging in her belly as his flaxen hair lifted in the slight breeze. There was a look of solid determination on his face. He wound the ball above his shoulder in little circles. Taured had told him what to do, she realized, and he wasn’t going to take it easy on her. She licked the sweat from her upper lip and glanced to her left, where Taured had the men set up the makeshift bleachers with benches from the cafeteria.