Marcy reaches out and squeezes my hand, the action a silent decision before she even speaks.

"We've made it this far. We're not turning back now."

"Good," Harry says, and I nod in relief and agreement. "Now let's get out of here."

Christopher grabs the handrail next to the open train door and lowers himself down to the tracks. Marcy and I shoulder our packs, grab our flashlights, and follow. Harry is the last to leave, sliding the door closed behind him.

We walk along the edges of the tracks towards a single flickering fluorescent light on the platform. It's a long walkway bordered by a low cement wall topped by a metal railing. It disappears into the darkness. I stop to stare. "How long does this go?"

"The tracks, or the platform?" Harry asks from behind me.

"Both, I guess." I turn my head to look over my shoulder.

"Well, the tracks go on for hundreds of miles. Or that's what I've heard." He stops next to me. "But this platform? Eh, doesn't matter. The exit is right here." He gestures to a break in the wall that I hadn't noticed.

Christopher is waiting, and then he and Harry both lead the way down a set of cement stairs.

The night air kisses our cheeks as we descend into the shadows under the elevated station. I flick on my flashlight to make sure I don't stumble down the stairs. Even with their tech, I would like to avoid the pain of injury.

Next to me, Marcy also flicks on her flashlight, but both Harry and Christopher walk down the stairs with ease. Either they can somehow see in the dark, or they've taken these stairs enough times not to worry about tripping.

At the foot of the stairs, we push through the bars of a high-gate turnstile to exit. When we step beyond the train station, a sleek vehicle is parked at the curb.

It's black in the starlight, low to the ground, and has four doors. Marcy and I both freeze. "Is that a patrol car?" I ask, because it looks just like the vehicles that the guards drive.

"It's okay," Harry says, his tone light. "Christopher is an excellent driver. And this is a lot quicker than walking!"

Christopher steps forward and opens the back passenger door for us. "I'm sure you are both tired and famished. Hop in. Our camp is only about a ten-minute drive from here."

With a glance and a nod, Marcy and I both take off our backpacks. Our chance to change our minds has already passed.

After Marcy gets in, I slide into the back seat beside her. I jump a little when Christopher closes the door after me. It doesn't slam, but suddenly, I feel trapped. Maybe I'm just tired and hungry, but doubt creeps in.

I reach my hand out to Marcy, and she takes it, anchoring me.

A moment later, Christopher and Harry slide into in the front seats. Christopher presses a button, the electric motor hums to life, and the dashboard illuminates. White numbers and dials dance on a screen bordered in bright red.

Soon, we are moving.

Very few people have cars in Dimstad. Only wealthy people and the authorities have their own vehicles. The rest of us take the trams, with the very occasional taxi ride. "Where did you learn to drive?" I ask.

"In a previous life," Christopher answers. "It's a useful skill to have."

"He's older than he looks," Harry says with a laugh.

I'm not sure what to say to that, so I don't say anything, just turn my head to look out the window.

The ride is so smooth—and the view from the passenger windows so dark—that I can only tell we're moving by looking through the front windshield. The headlights reveal a few trees along the road, but I can't make out any significant landmarks.

I wouldn't be able to return to the station if I tried. There really is no turning back.

"I never realized how much space there was outside the city," Marcy muses aloud as we turn around another bend.

Christopher chuckles. He glances in the rear-view mirror, his glasses reflecting the dashboard in front of him. "There's an entire world we'll introduce you to."

His voice is deep and reassuring. I wonder how much of what I've learned from growing up in the city is actually a lie.

After a few more turns, I see a large two-story building in front of us. We are no longer on a road, but the asphalt spreads out in front of us like a black lake. The wide-open space is only interrupted by occasional poles; I assume they are old lamp posts. As we get closer to the structure, I notice other cars parked in front, all lined up parallel to each other.

"We're here," Harry announces as Christopher presses a button to turn off the engine, the dashboard going dark.

"Where is 'here'?" I ask as the car doors unlock with a click. I pull on the handle, pushing out. Marcy does the same on her side. Soon, all four of us are standing in front of a large entryway.

"Home sweet home," Harry says with a dramatic sweep of his hand.

"It used to be something called a mall." Christopher says, stepping forward.

As I stand looking at the vast building before me, Harry walks up and puts his hand on my shoulder. "It's a lot to take in. But trust me, you'll be glad you came."

I look over at him. My world had shifted tremendously in only a day, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. Is it?

"Come on." Harry steps forwards. "There's someone we'd like you to meet."

The glass front doors slide open automatically and motion-activated lights flick on as Christopher and Harry walk inside the building. Marcy and I follow, finding ourselves in a carpeted lobby. There is another set of glass doors here, but they don't automatically open. Off to the side, there's a solid door with a card reader next to it. Christopher bumps his hip against the reader, and with a beep, it unlocks. He pulls and holds the door open for us.

Marcy and I step into some sort of side office. There is a reception desk and file cabinets, and several potted plants fill the room with life. A bright mural on the wall depicts men and women waving rainbow flags, lavender letters announcing that All Are Welcome.

As I look around, taking in the colors and the words, a side door opens.

A statuesque woman sweeps into the room. Floral clips accentuate her black curls, and she wears a sheen dress that drapes over long, thin limbs. She seems to float on the air as she approaches.

"You've arrived!" she declares, her red lips breaking into a wide smile that shows off glistening white teeth.

She seems to exude light and love, and for a moment, I'm so overwhelmed by warmth that I think I might cry.

I choke up and can't speak through the lump that has formed in my throat.

"You're beautiful," Marcy whispers.

Christopher laughs at our reaction, immune to her charms. "This is Sequoia. Together, we founded this house."

"It's for you, for all of us, to be our fabulous selves," Sequoia adds, her voice as melodic as cello music.

Harry steps forward between Marcy and me. "They've been providing refuge for people like us for fifty years," he explains.

"Child, when you say it that way, you make us sound old," Sequoia says without losing her smile.

Glancing between Christopher and Sequoia, I don't doubt that Christopher has been doing this for a long time. But Sequoia's dark skin doesn't seem to have a wrinkle on it, and her hair is full and luscious. I wonder if their tech keeps her looking so young, but I keep the thought to myself.

"Fifty years?" Marcy asks in awe. "How come we've never heard of you?"

"That's a good question," Harry mumbles.

Christopher and Sequoia either don't hear him or choose to ignore him.

"Well, you've heard of us now, and that's what is important," Christopher answers, stepping closer to his co-founder.

"And, here you are safe," Sequoia adds. "We are nothing like the city. This is a place where everyone is accepted for who they are."

Marcy nods, her eyes scanning the murals. "What do you guys do?"

"Do?" Sequoia's smile widens. "We will train you to harness the power of technology and build a community together where everyone belongs."

That sounds nice, but I have no idea what it means. Not really. "Build community?" I ask.

"I'm sure you have loads of questions," Christopher answers. "Don't worry. We'll get you integrated quickly. Everything will be shared with you in time. We're not the city. We don't keep secrets."

He turns his body towards the side door. "For now, though, all you need to do is cherish the feeling of being free."

Sequoia spreads out her arms. "Welcome to the Queer Rebels."