He came again—Gus. Today their eyes met when he received his rations and flashed his wrist. Maddie wondered how long he'd keep shadowing her lines before he said something.

After three weeks, he finally spoke. "Can I get a bit extra?" he asked.

Maddie glanced down at the pot before her then to the dirty mess under the limp dreadlocks standing on the other side of the metal table.

She waved him to move on.

He didn't comply. His stare suggested he expected some sort of response.

"They say you're not supposed to judge me. I am asking for a bit extra."

He focused on the ladle then on her. Laying one finger on a Volunteer's person meant a broken hand. He wouldn't dare....

The line shifted, but not by much. Volunteer after Volunteer stepped out of their respective stations to see what the holdup was.

Maddie took on the coldest stare she could as she waved a hand to dismiss him again.

Other Vagrants grumbled, some laughed. One shoved Gus and he turned, shaking off the insult. People started staring now—staring at the Volunteer. They waited for Maddie to do something—to sound the alarm, to call for help. A broken hand would be the least of this idiot's worries then. But standing here idle was a bigger problem.

"Get a load of Gus, boys. Woman's putting him right in his place," an old man said with a chuckle.

Gus grabbed the ladle from Maddie's hand and scooped up a good portion. It spilled out of his bowl when he flopped it in. "There. That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

Their eyes met and the satisfaction there was a problem. Maddie surveyed the line to see its now deformed appearance.

A hand grabbed Maddie by the nape of her white coat, yanking her back.

"Move!" someone growled. "Move that line. Move."

One hum, then two, then three, and a new row of Volunteers hurried toward them.

"Move that line! Move it. Move that line."

Maddie thought of her own hide and stepped forward to rejoin the regiment of others providing the feed.

"Wait," one weak old man said, wobbling as he held out his bowl. "How come he gets to keep that? It's not fair."

Gus skipped one person in front of him, and another. The large wall on his right meant he couldn't go far. As was its design, it forced him to weave in and out of the crowd to make any headway. He was running.

Maddie gripped her pot and walked with him, saying, finally, "Return that food."

Gus continued his journey, glancing at her once as he smirked. "Make me."

He gained speed and more judgement rods hummed to life—other Volunteers were coming.

"Return that food," Maddie demanded, gaining speed to match her new pest. "If you take more, that means someone must forfeit their dinner."

"You don't give us enough," Gus complained. "Half a bowl for a grown man? How's that fair? Kiss off."

Otherwise compliant participants fell and tripped. Maddie gripped her large pot tight and took a running start. She leapt over the table and swung with all her might—catching Gus in the face.

Everything fell silent.

"Blood," someone whispered.

"Blood."

Sirens sounded. "Shut down. Two-hour shut down in effect. Shut down. Return to the maze. Return to the maze."

Pot after pot fell. Volunteers shed their white coats and flexed the black armor below it. Maddie caught her helmet tossed to her and put it on.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me," Ray-Lyn muttered, her voice muffled by the poor rationing hood instead of a proper covering. "You just got yourself a world of explaining to do. Why did you allow it to get this far? Who is he to you?"

Maddie debated answering. "He is the last of my schoolmates."

"What does that matter? A class with only one survivor is nothing new. You made it. What of the rest?"

For this, Maddie couldn't understand her attachment, either. The white swill that was once the meal she'd cherish now mixed with the black dirt. As she stared at it, she wondered about the logic. It was fine to waste it in order to keep the Vagrants under control, but not to let them get away with breaking a rule.

Ray-Lyn said, "Find an answer fast. You've allowed him to steal. Now you'll have to take that arm off."

Helmet affixed, Maddie looked down at Gus's bloodied face and let out a sigh.

"Be fast about it," Ray said. "We have to report in."

But after an entire minute, neither of them moved.

"Mad?"

Maddie's hands trembled. She reached behind her for the justice rod but paused. "No. Let's wait." She looked up and around as the walls flashed red. "The air filters have shut down."

"To hell with the air filters. What of the walls? They'll open in two minutes time. Carry out your decree and toss his backside behind that border. We'll be overrun if we're not careful."

Ray was right, but no matter how often Maddie told herself this, she couldn't will her body to move.

"I'll cut it off when he's awake. When he's got proper medics near."

"Oh to hell with this." Ray shoved her aside and crouched.

Bang. The pot from the floor slammed into Ray's helmet, nearly taking it off.

Maddie kicked it from Gus's hand. Rather than run, the man took a deep breath.

A crack in the wall told Maddie why.

"Break formation. Open lot," the announcement said.

"You son of...." Ray was slow to lumber to her feet, but she got up.

She took one step back, ready to kick Gus with all her might but the wall continued to slide open.

One blue eye blinked at Maddie before Ray froze. The helmet...had cracked. Not many people knew where a Volunteer's helmet was weakest; Gus knew.

When Ray realized it, she froze up.

Maddie took a deep breath and dragged off her own helmet. Ray didn't take it; instead, she marched toward Gus, a justice rod in hand.

It was by luck alone that Maddie caught Ray by the collar before the first stone sailed past.

Gus, blood dripping from his face, stood and backed away into the onslaught of Vagrants in outdated gasmasks. He raised both hands at them, a profane gesture that made Ray bristle. And then he was gone—swallowed by the crowd.

Maddie backed away, dragging Ray with her.

All Volunteers could hold their breaths for a great deal of time. Ray's rage must have given her an edge because the length of it frightened Maddie.

Ray finally grabbed the offered helmet, put it on for a moment, then handed it back as they turned to run.

They raced toward the opposite wall. It didn't open, but there were braces along it allowing Volunteers to climb up. Ray scaled it fast, Maddie on her heels.

Maddie pulled herself up in time to see Ray smash an emergency helmet barrier open. After she secured it, she took two rifles and hurried back to the opening on the wall.

"Useless maggots. After we feed them. After we waste time feeding them."

"Whoa." Maddie caught the rifle and pointed it up before Ray could fire. "Whoa. We're okay. They didn't come out. It was just their way. They're ill in the head, remember? They can't help it."

Ray still seethed. It took some doing but Maddie finally got both rifles from her friend. Letting out a sigh, she turned to watch the mass of people spread through The Passage, the open area separating regular civilians from the unfortunate ones. Save for the pot which Maddie used on Gus, there was nothing for them to find.

That metal was enough, maybe, because five people wrestled to get it.

A few of the young wore no helmets at all. That Maddie found unforgivable. Even if they held their breaths, there was no telling how long they'd last in this pollution.

Ray-Lyn lifted the emergency helmet and spat in their direction regardless. "Useless, all of them. Praise be the day they all climb into The Passage and perish there."

Maddie understood her frustration, but she deserved all of that blame. "Gus got away."

Silent, Ray yanked both rifles back.

They'd have to file a report. Maddie knew his name...his former class. Finding his family based on that information wasn't difficult.

"What is wrong with you? A month ago you wouldn't have hesitated," Ray scolded. "You've been different ever since your return from the Old City."

Maddie met her gaze, struggling for an answer. This wasn't a minor mess up—this was huge.

"Come," Ray said, finally. "Enough with the mutts."

"We were all mutts once," Maddie reminded her as she passed. And they had been. Like Maddie's mother and her mother before that, all Volunteers fed the Vagrants because they themselves came from Vagrants.

All the food in the world wouldn't matter, though. That Maddie knew. Another filled belly wouldn't compare to what those people really wanted—needed: Air.