So not chest-bursters then. That’s my first, ridiculous thought. No aliens. But I’m not sure this is any better. A plague? A respiratory disease? What does that even mean?

Behind me, someone coughs, and the effect is almost immediate. Two of the guards turn and train their weapons in our direction. The lieutenant steps back. A wave of fear washes over us.

I raise my hands and try to find my voice. I try to ignore the refrain in my head and the rapid beating of my heart. We’re complying. We’re complying. We’re complying. “We’ll go back. Right, Hunter?” I address him, more than the soldiers. I need him to see reason, because once he does, the others will follow.

Maverick shakes his head. “No, we need to know more. So people got sick? Why does that mean we need to stay inside? Who will take care of us?”

“Who will provide us with food and medical care?” Reid chimes in. “What if we get infected?”

“What kind of disease?”

“What are the symptoms?”

“What will happen to us?”

They’re solid questions, and we deserve answers, especially if this lockdown means our guards won’t come back to us. But now is clearly not the time. The soldiers in front of us tighten their ranks, and the boys from Hunter’s crew shift uncomfortably.

“We’ll figure it out,” I try. “We’ll go back to the center, get everyone together, and regroup. Call for help. Figure out what’s going on.” I lower my voice. “But we won’t be able to get through here. Look at them. We—”

Reid raises his chin. “No. I want to know. I want answers. What will happen to us if we go back?” He’s balled his hands into fists. He won’t back down.

The lieutenant shakes his head. “I don’t know. I do know nothing good will happen to you if you stay here or try to push through.”

It’s a very thinly veiled threat—so much for de-escalation. His words are followed by angry mutters from Hunter’s crew around me. Emerson is whispering something under their breath, and the twins hold on to each other. My stomach flips. I don’t want to be here, stuck between boys and their terrible decisions once more. I want to turn around and go back.

“So we have to sit tight and wait for a deadly disease to pass—or for the government to forget about us?” Maverick laughs bitterly. He is walking around the group like he’s looking for another way out, but there’s only thick patches of hickory trees around us and rough slopes that are impossible to climb at night. Perhaps there are other ways out of here—shallow streams or trails—but not with armed guards observing our every move.

One of the soldiers keeps Maverick in his sights.

“They won’t forget about us.” I try to keep my voice down. They won’t. Right? No matter how much it feels like that sometimes, they won’t. They can’t. The authorities will find a solution—or we will. But we have to get out of here.