The makeshift cafeteria buzzed with activity, but Grace could hardly eat. True, she still desperately needed the calories after her journey, Hunter looked thinner than he did a week ago and Grace could only assume she looked just as bad, if not worse, but her head was on a swivel. Whatever Yesenia and Underground 109 were planning, she wanted to know about it. Now.

"You know, if you starve yourself in here, you'll never be able to get back to Seaside." Hunter stared at her as Grace whipped back around. He wore half a smile, but looked concerned.

"I'm fine," Grace said. "I'll never get back to Seaside if we miss this opportunity."

Hunter pushed her plate toward her. "Eat."

Grace rolled her eyes, but took a bite of bread, anyway. She briefly caught Anna's eye, who just suppressed a smile and immediately looked down.

"Is this everyone?" Grace asked. As she had scanned the room, it looked like too few people to be all the refugees.

"We eat in shifts," Anna explained. "So our side, the other side, and the people who actually run the place all have different times. We wouldn't have enough space, otherwise."

"Who's the last to eat?"

"This week? We are. It rotates so if there's ever any shortage, one group isn't always the one getting left out."

The matter-of-factness of Anna's statement told Grace that shortages weren't exactly unheard of around here. Another reason why Yesenia and other leaders of 109 would want to start getting people out and to permanent safety.

"Well, it looks like you don't have to go find Yesenia," Hunter commented.

"What do you mean?"

He nodded over Grace's shoulder, and Grace didn't even have time to turn around before Yesenia sat down next to her.

"So, family reunion went well, I see?"

Grace couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth, as neither Hunter nor Anna could suppress smiles.

"And which side are you staying in, then?"

"The right side," Grace answered promptly. "Yesenia, I was wondering—"

But Yesenia seemed to know exactly what Grace was wondering. "There's a meeting tonight, half an hour after dinner service ends," she said. "Leaders of Underground 109 and some key refugees. I think you appreciate being there." She spoke pointedly at Grace. The invitation was for one person only.

Grace nodded. "I'll be there. Although, where is 'there' exactly?"

Yesenia gestured around the room. "This is a multi-purpose room," she explained. "Just come back up here 30 minutes after the meal. I think you'll be interested in what we have to say." And with that, she left.

Grace turned around to face the other two. "Is she always like that?" she asked Anna.

"What? Able to basically read people's minds but then also be annoyingly vague?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, she's always like that."

"So if we have a chance of getting out of here, that meeting is where we start?"

"I expect so."

Which only meant that for 30 minutes after dinner, Grace was a jittering ball of nerves. If Yesenia invited her, that must mean that there was a chance that they would be included in whatever it was they were discussing.

Finally, after 29 minutes, Grace left the other two and headed back up to where they had dinner. Several other already occupied the room, but no one paid her any attention except for Yesenia, who gave her a welcoming nod. After a brief scan of the others, Grace took a seat on the left side, opposite from where Paul sat. The last thing she needed was another encounter with him.

"Thank you all for coming." At exactly 30 minutes post-dinner, Yesenia began the meeting. "As everyone here knows, we have too many people staying here, currently. And while we want to be able to give anyone refuge who needs it, we do have our limits."

A general murmur went up around the room. No one seemed offended by her words; they just accepted the unfortunate reality.

"Not to mention," Yesenia continued, "I'm sure many of our refugees would very much like to see sunlight again."

Another murmur, a few laughs. Looking at all the pale faces, Grace wondered just how long some of these people had lived in the darkness of Underground 109.

"Which is why, we're revisiting the idea of getting a group down south," Yesenia said.

"But we still have the same problem," someone at the front of the room said. "We don't even know exactly where the southern border of the militant territory is. How can we know how to get to safety if we don't know where safety is?"

A few people nodded in agreement. Many more looked hopeless.

"Well, this meeting was originally to discuss how we might handle such a task," Yesenia said. "But now, we might not have to."

More murmurs as Yesenia turned her eyes on Grace, and Grace had a sudden understanding of why she was at the meeting.

"We've never had any residents from the south, here," Yesenia said. "No one from that part of the state ever had any reason to come here. Until, apparently, now."

The rest of the room had caught on, and now Grace found herself at the center of attention. Determined not to shrink back at the sudden focus on her, Grace stared squarely back at Yesenia.

"Grace, here, came to us last night," Yesenia introduced her. "She came looking for a particular individual, who, fortunately, is alive and well here with us. And thanks to a set of maps that she carried with her, we now know where that border is. Assuming that they're correct?"

"They are," Grace said firmly. A few people looked skeptical, so she pressed her point. "We have a very good reason to know where that border is," she said. "No one wants to cross it."

"That's good enough for me." The man who first spoke his doubts now looked excited. "If she knows the south and we know the east, I think it's worth a go."

Most people seemed to agree with him.

The man stood up and pulled out a large file of papers. He unfolded something on the table and gestured to Grace. "This is the territory we know," he said. "What else can you tell us?"

Grace got up and inspected the map. She had stared at her own so many times that she knew exactly where all the borders were. As she inspected Underground 109's map, though, where she had western and southern borders, they had those to the east and north.

"This is the official southern line," she said, drawing her finger across the paper. "There's a dead zone that stretches about 5 miles past it, mostly private land with private security, but everyone who doesn't live there avoids it. It's not unsafe, exactly, they just don't really welcome visitors."

"So once we're past that dead zone, we're in the clear?" Yesenia asked.

"Once you're over the border, you're in the clear," Grace clarified. "But just keep moving for another five miles. You'll only run into a problem if you stop."

Grace noticed that the eastern border of the militant territory didn't stretch all the way to the state's border, at least not in most places. "What are these pockets?" she asked, gesturing to the gaps between the valley and the state border.

"Those pockets are how we do this," the man told her. "We're here," he pointed to a spot in the middle of a forest on the map, "and the border is here."

"What is that, about half a day?" Grace guessed.

"Maybe a little longer with a big group. But more or less, yeah."

"Okay, but what's there?" Grace asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there's got to be a reason why the border ends there," Grace said. "And that's getting close to the state border. I haven't known many people to go there and come back."

"Well, fortunately for us, there's a difference between what's actually there, and what our militant subjugators think is there," Yesenia explained.

"These are mountains, that's what marks the militant border," the man explained. "But between this mountain line and the state border, there's a narrow valley, more mountains, and then it's the state."

"And the militants here think that there's no gap between here and the state?" Grace asked.

Yesenia and the man both nodded.

Grace nodded. "Okay, so we travel down here." She traced a finger down the apparently small valley that ran between the two borders. "But what about here?" About 20 miles from the southern border, the border pushed east across their path.

"Well, that's why we wanted to know exactly where the border in the south was," the man explained. "So we know exactly how much hostile territory we'd have to cross."

"And you think we can make 20 miles?"

He and Yesenia glanced at each other. "We think so," Yesenia finally said. "But the next decision," she continued, and Grace sat back down, "is to determine how many people to take."

More conversation.

"As many as possible." Paul spoke up this time. "We can't support so many, and more will come."

"Thank you, Paul," Yesenia said. "But I believe the very goal is to get as many as possible out."

Grace couldn't help but smirk, and she noticed that she wasn't the only one.

"There are about 40 refugees living with us right now," the map man said. "There are three families that have very young children. I don't think they should go, at least not right now. We should see how difficult the journey is and then assess if we can get them out at a later date."

"But shouldn't we prioritize getting children to safety?" Paul again. "If we bring the families and have a slightly smaller group, then we could protect them better."

"Didn't you just say we should get out as many people as possible?" the map man asked.

"I agree with..." Grace trailed off and looked at the map man.

"Charlie," he supplied.

"Charlie." As much as Grace enjoyed Paul getting shot down by the others in the room, she also didn't want to waste time fighting. "I just spent weeks traveling unfamiliar terrain. It's really not the place for children. Especially if we might run into violence."

"I agree," Yesenia said. "So that's about 30 people. Charlie?"

"That means that about five of us to go along for protection," Charlie said. "I think we can do a group of 35."

"Questions?" Yesenia looked out to the wider crowd. "This affects everyone here. Especially since many of you will be going on this trip."

But no one spoke up. Grace wondered just how desperate people were to get out of here.

"So, now we vote," Yesenia said. "All in favor of a 35-person group attempting to get to the southern part of the state?"

Almost all hands, including Grace's, went up.

"All opposed?"

A few hands, but no one vocalized any objections.

"Any withholding?"

No hands.

"Tomorrow morning, we will have another meeting with all those who will go as guides on this journey," Yesenia said. "We need a solid plan, and we need it quickly."

She sat down, which apparently meant that this meeting was over. In a way, Grace appreciated that. The whole thing was straightforward and to the point. She, Hunter, and Anna would be able to get out of here, and Grace would actually be useful. Or, at least, she hoped she would be useful.

"That means you, too." Charlie joined her as they headed out of the dinner room. "A morning meeting means right after breakfast."

"Do we all come up here for breakfast?" Grace asked.

He shook his head. "No, that's only dinner. Breakfast and lunch are delivered downstairs. Bells signal the beginning and end of the meal period. Just come up after the end bell."

"Thanks, Charlie."

He shook his head. "No, thank you," he said. "I've been wanting to get out of here for a long time."

"You're a refugee?" Grace would have guessed him to be part of the resistance.

"Yes," he said. "But I've been here for so long that I've helped out with some of the missions. I lived here before the bombs," he said. "But I have family down south."

"Ah, I see," Grace said. She hoped Charlie would be as lucky in finding his family as Hunter had been in finding his sister. "Well, then I hope I can do the job."

Charlie shrugged. "From what I hear from Yesenia, there wouldn't be many other people up to something like this." He left her at the top of the stairs, off to do whatever his duties entailed.

Grace could only hope that she could live up to his expectations.