Life was becoming an endless series of bad or worse decisions. Our choices constantly involved risks, and it was always about what was safer—keeping the status quo or moving on to something new. Neither staying nor going ever came with guarantees. The hardest part was it wasn’t merely our own lives on the line. Bailey was at stake, and that made everything more important.

Following Ramona and Denver somewhere in the early hours of the morning, when even the moon wasn’t providing much light, didn’t seem like the right decision, but neither did sitting back and doing nothing. Quinn and I were having coordinating nightmares. That couldn’t be a good thing. I refused to sit back and wait for something bad to happen. I realized we might be walking right into something bad, but if Ramona and her cohorts wanted to hurt us they could have already. We’d all been sleeping less than an hour before. They could have killed us in our sleep or done anything else. It was morbid to think of things that way, but it was also realistic. Trusting anyone fully was dangerous. It was time to face our future head-on.

Quinn, holding Bailey, walked close by my side, while Mason remained on the other. I was sandwiched between the most important people in my life from what felt like two entirely different stages of my life. But now they were both in the same stage because there was no going backward. My earlier conversation with Mason circled through my mind. I had no home anymore, and I wasn’t convinced I’d ever find one again. At least not in the way it used to be.

We were once again following Denver. Ramona had waved him on, and she followed us down the hill, moving much slower. I glanced over my shoulder several times during our walk to make sure she was following. Each time she was hobbling along, leaning heavily on the cane. Who was she really? And why was she in charge? I was starting to feel as if my entire life was made up of questions, questions that would never find answers.

We reached the shore of the lake, and Denver walked directly over to a wooden shed that was built right on the edge of the water. He unlocked a side door and pushed it open. “Follow me.”

The last time we’d followed Denver he hadn’t led us afoul, so we went for it. Mason went first, and I followed just behind him, with Addison going next.

We walked into darkness, and a sliver of fear ran up and down my spine. Then in what seemed like a single motion, the door closed and a light bulb turned on above us.

I blinked a few times adjusting to the sudden light. I glanced around. All I saw were yellow and red boats stacked and leaning against unfinished wood walls. “Is there something I’m missing?”

“Patience, Kayla. Patience.” Denver smiled.

“Why are you smiling?” Quinn asked. She was so much more upfront now about things than she used to be. It took a little while to get used to it, but I loved watching the confidence ooze from her. She probably didn’t even realize that was what it was—but it was there. We had both changed since leaving the Rurals, and I knew neither of us would ever be the same again.

“Mama.” Bailey wrapped her arms around Quinn’s neck. I wasn’t sure when I was going to get used to hearing Bailey’s voice. She had changed too, and I hoped it was in a good way. Maverick could say what he wanted, but something had happened to Bailey in Central. I was terrified to know the truth.

“We are in a boat house.” Maverick walked around in a circle.

Denver nodded. “We are.”

“Is there a reason we are standing in a boathouse?” Maverick held up his hands palm up.

“There is always a reason.” Denver smiled. His smile was starting to infuriate me.

“How about you tell us what the reason is.” Mason scowled. He had a very intimidating scowl, and I was glad it wasn’t aimed at me.

Denver appeared unmoved and unworried by it. “You are some of the most impatient people I have ever met.”

“We have every reason to be impatient.” Addison put a hand on her hip. “You’ve been evading our questions since, well since, I first met you.”

“I had to wait until the time was right. Giving anyone too much information too soon is dangerous. Besides, the information couldn’t help you before. It would have been a waste to fill your head with things you didn’t need to worry about.”

“How about you stop deciding what we should worry about or not.” I stomped over to Denver. Quinn wasn’t the only one who was done sitting back. I was frustrated. “Tell us what we are doing here,” I demanded.

Denver shook his head. “There is no need to be rude. Please follow me.”

“We are already following you.”

“I mean right now.” He walked to the far corner of the building, the part furthest from the shore. He knelt and pulled open some sort of lever on the floor. A square of the floor lifted, revealing pitch blackness within.

“A trap door?” Addison gasped.

“Yes, a trap door.” Denver smiled in a less than annoying way. This was an amused smile—he enjoyed Addison’s excitement.

I didn’t share her excitement. Staring into the empty space beneath the floor board reminded me of my hiding place in the barn which made me think of Thomas and the beating he received because of me. My stomach clenched.

Mason seemed to sense this, and he put a gentle hand on my back. I pushed away the emotional thoughts. I had to focus. There was a reason Denver was showing us this place.

“You act weird when I tell you to follow me, so I won’t say it this time.” He stepped onto a ladder that stopped just beneath the top of the trap door.

Mason looked at me. “You want to follow, right?”

I nodded. “I don’t think we have a choice. We need to figure out what’s really going on here.”

He nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid you’re right.”

“You’re afraid?” I was surprised by his choice of words. Mason had never admitted to any fear besides losing me.

“I’d rather we had a choice.”

“Wouldn’t we all.” Addison stepped toward the trap door. “Can I go first?”

“I can go first,” Mason offered.

“I want to.” She knelt and started down the ladder.

That got us all moving. I followed Addison with Mason close behind us.

The ladder ended in darkness, and my borrowed boots made contact with a dirt floor. Denver lit a torch, and I glanced around at our surroundings. We appeared to be in a tunnel. The walls were likely made from some sort of rock, but it was impossible to identify the material with a thick layer of dirt covering the majority of it.

“Be careful,” I called up to Quinn. I hoped Maverick would help her climb down. It wouldn’t be easy to do while holding Bailey. I regretted heading down without waiting to offer her help.

A few moments later my fears were assuaged as Quinn and Bailey reached the lower level. Maverick and finally Ramona followed.

“Where does this tunnel lead?” I knew Denver wasn’t going to answer me, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth asking.

“You’ll see.” He pulled another lever, and the door above snapped closed with a low thud that echoed off the low ceiling.

Denver started down the narrow tunnel. I exchanged glances with Quinn. She was nervous, and I didn’t blame her. I hated that we had to bring Bailey with us, but we didn’t have a choice. Leaving her behind was riskier.

“The child will be fine.” Ramona seemed to read our minds.

Denver started walking, and we all followed him down the tunnel. There were no lights aside from the single torch, so I took small and deliberate steps to make sure I didn’t fall.

A few minutes later I heard the low mumble of voices. I couldn’t make out what they were saying at first, but as we continued I was able to detect that there were several male voices and one female.

Mason’s arm slipped around my waist. I didn’t mind his protectiveness. I was nervous even though I didn’t want to be. We’d faced plenty of frightening things before, but walking into the unknown never got easier.

“We can’t wait much longer.” A deep male voice spoke from somewhere a little ways off. “We are running out of time.”

“We’ve waited so long it can’t hurt to wait some more. Denver thinks he found someone. He needs more time.” Another male voice answered. This one sounded like it belonged to a younger man.

“What if this someone isn’t helpful. What if he doesn’t agree to help?” Ever think of that?” The first man asked.

“We’ll make him agree.” A female voice answered.

I’d slowed down as I strained to hear the voices. Denver was so far ahead of us now that his light was little help. I picked up the pace, hoping everyone else behind us did the same.

The distant light disappeared entirely.

“We have company.” Denver said to someone I still couldn’t see.

“What kind of company?” the angry deep voice from earlier replied.

“You’ll see.” Denver’s light once again appeared ahead.

“You can’t just bring people down here without permission,” The angry voice was louder. We were getting closer.

“He has my permission.” Ramona brushed against me as she hurried ahead. She came to a stop just beside Denver’s light.

We caught up, and I watched as Denver walked inside a room tucked away near the end of the corridor.

Mason and I entered the room together. His arm was still firmly wrapped around me.

The room was lit by lamps hanging every few feet on the walls. There were four men and one woman in the room, but my eyes zeroed in on only one. His hair was longer and a dark, angry scar crisscrossed his face, but it was unmistakably him. “Bolton?” My entire body froze.

"Kayla?" He dropped the gun he was holding onto a table containing dozens of weapons.

He walked over slowly, as if trying to decide if I was really there. I felt the same way about him. What were the chances? Was it possible he’d survived?

I felt Mason's arm tighten around me, but I couldn’t find the words to explain to him what was going on. "Bolton. You are okay."

"Okay." He nodded. "Mostly."

"Wait." Another man, probably around forty, walked around the table toward us. "Is this the girl?"

I recognized the angry voice from earlier.

Bolton’s eye remained on me as he answered. "Yes."

“Who is this?” Mason stared Bolton down.

"You know the peach thing I needed to tell you about?" There were better places to start, but those were the words that came to me first.

"Yes." Mason’s hold didn’t loosen.

"Peaches." Bolton smiled. "You remembered."

"I owe you so much.” I likely owed him my life. I owed him my sister and Bailey’s life.

“No you don’t.” He shook his head. “I owe you.”

“How could you possibly owe me anything?” By the scar on his face, the time spent after driving me to the city and up to the present hadn’t been all that easy.

“You made me realize there was something bigger out there. That I could make a difference.” His eyes were bright and animated. Despite the new scar, he was still the same optimistic Bolton. It felt as if so much time had passed, but it hadn’t. Time meant nothing anymore.

I wanted to ask about his face. I wanted to ask about what happened after I’d run away, but that wasn’t the right thing to do. Instead I focused on what he seemed to care about. “You mean here? What is it that you are doing?”

“Hasn’t Ramona told you?” Bolton scrunched up his face “Or Denver?”

“No. They haven’t told us much of anything.” And I was done with that. Maybe finding Bolton would be the ticket to the answers we desperately needed.

“Wow. Kayla.” Bolton rubbed the back of his neck. “I still can’t quite believe you’re here.”

“She is here. As am I. Please keep talking about the important thing. What you are doing here?” Mason’s voice was harsh, and it reminded me of how he was at the club. That too felt like a lifetime ago.

“Who are you?” Bolton practically growled the words. “Why are you with Kayla?”

“I am with Kayla because she wants to be with me.” Mason pulled me even closer to his side.

“Will you stop,” Quinn snapped.

“You found them.” Bolton grinned from ear to ear. “You broke into Central. And to think I doubted you…”

“Broke in might be the wrong term,” I admitted. “But I got in, and luckily I had help getting out.”

“Denver, how did you find her?” He pointed to me.

“Mason.” He nodded in Mason’s direction. “He wanted her, and it was a good excuse to get inside.”

“Please, can you finish what you were about to say?” Quinn frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“Denver, you really told them nothing?” Bolton’s brown furrowed.

“They know very little.” Ramona took a seat on a worn wooden bench.

“How little is little?” Bolton turned to her.

“Little.” Ramona put her hand just above the dirt covered floor.

“Then tell them already.” A girl with dark hair worn in two braids that reached her waist jumped up and sat on the table. “Otherwise we are wasting our time.”

“Remember when I told you you’d all have choices to make?” Denver shifted his weight from foot to foot, and for the first time since I’d met him he appeared nervous.

“Yes.” I needed to know what could possibly make him nervous, since escaping from Central had left him calm and collected.

“You have made it impossible for me to hold off on those choices.”

“What are the choices?” Maverick asked.

“You can stay here as long as you want. Even forever.” Denver looked at each of us slowly and separately as he spoke.

“Or?” I asked, sure that whatever other option he gave would be the one I’d take.

“Or you can fill a role in the greater fight.”

“What greater fight?” Mason adjusted his arm around me.

“Earlier this evening I hinted that the situation we face isn’t exactly what we’ve been led to believe.” Ramona picked up her cane and rose from her seat.

“Yes.” I nodded with rapt attention.

“That is because our leaders refuse to acknowledge they made a mistake. They walled us in when the answers were out there. They turned their backs as the rest of the world suffered—and we suffered too. We need to get through the walls. We need to reconnect with the outside world.”

“And you believe the other nations have fared better?” Maverick stepped into the light of one of the lamps.

“We know they have.” Ramona traced a circle in the dirt with the end of her cane. “They have worked together and found a way to start building the population back.”

“How do you know that?” Maverick demanded. “I have worked in Central my entire adult life and never heard that.”

“You only heard what they wanted you to hear in Central. I already told you it was important for you to figure out who you really are.”

“Then how do you know?” That was really the important question. “How are you so sure?”

“Because we’ve made contact.”

“Then why aren’t you doing anything?” Quinn yelled. “How could you hold that information back?”

“Because our leaders don’t want that information. They don’t want to change things.” Ramona remained calm even as Quinn’s anger nearly bubbled over.

“Why should we believe you?” Quinn balanced Bailey on her hip. She was wide awake.

“Because they’re right that they wouldn’t want that information.” Maverick put a hand on Quinn’s arm. “It all makes sense.”

“What does?” Nothing made sense to me.

“The last directives I received. The secret project,” Maverick seemed surprised at his own words.

“What directives? What secret project?” Quinn brushed off his hand. “You act as though we know anything about what you’re talking about.”

“They wanted to use Bailey…” He trailed off. “I can’t.. I can’t say this.”

“Say it!” Quinn yelled. “Say it now!”

I’d never heard Quinn so angry, but I didn’t blame her. There was so much to be angry about.

“They found a way to live forever. They found a way to make reproduction obsolete. They need Bailey’s DNA to do it.” Maverick looked down at the ground. “They were going to hold her prisoner for the rest of her life, so they could live forever. They were going to find a way to harvest her cells.”

“What can we do to help your fight?” Quinn’s entire expression changed from angry to determined. “We will do whatever it takes to destroy Central. That is part of your plan isn’t it?”

“I was hoping you’d ask that. Of course it’s part of the plan.” Denver smiled, and this time no one minded.