“It’s a good deal,” said Ranger Bob in a soothing, coaxing voice, the kind of voice Agnes used on skinny, needful, hungry hares when they’d noticed her but hadn’t run yet. He stared at Bea and smiled until he couldn’t smile anymore. His face blanked and briefly he frowned, and Agnes saw how tired they all looked. How dirty and wrinkled their uniforms were, the tongues of their boots askew, shirttails untucked. When usually they looked so official, proud and clean.

Bea turned to Carl and held his eye for a long time. Then she looked out the window at the Community, everyone enjoying their time here, relaxing, perhaps thinking how nice it would be to relax for good. Perhaps thinking of them on a bus back to the City, weeping. Agnes couldn’t figure out what she was calculating. But she was nonetheless surprised when her mother said, “Okay. We’ll do it. We’ll help.” She nodded at Carl and he nodded, sullenly, back. She didn’t ask for Agnes’s opinion. No one did. And Agnes didn’t offer it. She had heard what she needed to hear.

They left the table and went to their own corners. The Boss peered at Ranger Bob, clearly unhappy. Perhaps he had simply wanted to kick them out and Ranger Bob had managed to buy them more time. Agnes watched the Boss checking doors, whispering to the Rangers standing guard, casting looks back at her mother, Carl, Ranger Bob, and then to Agnes herself. She caught his eye, the color of the sky when it was blazing. The color of nothing. She guessed Ranger Bob trusted him because he was his boss and she guessed people trusted their bosses. And she knew her mother did because her mother trusted Ranger Bob. But Agnes didn’t trust this man. Not at all.

*

Around the fire, Bea presented the news to the Community as though it were just another directive. As though they were lucky to get the chance to stay a little while longer. And then, what a gift to relax and live a life of peace in the Private Lands.

“So they’re forcing us to turn on those poor people?” Debra scowled.

“Trespassers, Debra,” snapped Carl.

“It’s that or be sent home,” Bea said. “Tomorrow.” She’d said this a few times already, wanting this to be the main takeaway from the announcement. Bea made a rueful face Agnes knew was fake and she realized that this must be part of her mother’s plan somehow. But she couldn’t imagine how.

“So there was a choice?” Val’s voice was shrill, and she laughed short and awfully. “And this is what you chose for everyone?” she said to Carl, the words dripping distastefully from her mouth.

“It’s a good deal,” he said to Val in the same coaxing voice Ranger Bob had used.

Val shook her head. She turned to Agnes, forlorn. “You too, Agnes?”

Agnes looked past everyone and at the Caldera wall, trying to find something to lock onto, something solid. She felt her mother’s eyes on her. “No,” she said.

“Agnes,” warned her mother.

Agnes met her gaze. “I’m staying here. I’m going to stay and disappear. Just like the Trespassers.”

Bea’s mouth went slack, but it was Carl who venomously spit, “Like hell you are. This isn’t a decision you get to make.”

But Celeste spoke over him. “We can’t carry everything we’d need ourselves,” she calculated, knowing already their numbers would be diminished.

“We’d need to leave most of our stuff behind. We can’t take our books. We can’t take our kitchen. We won’t need the Manual. The Cast Iron is gone. We can take only something for warmth. Some food, water. Knives. Weapons. Only what you can carry on your backs. Tight against your backs.”

“But we need this stuff,” said Juan. Agnes knew he was thinking mostly of his paints.

“We’ll start over,” said Agnes. “New bowls and beds and clothes. We’ll need only what is absolutely essential. But we can find whatever we need after we find a better place to hide. We’ve done it before. When we were new. We’ll do it again.”

Her mother was looking at her like she’d just been slapped.

Again, Carl spat, “We aren’t splitting. We are staying together on this or it doesn’t work.”

“Don’t tell her what to do,” yelled Debra, moving next to Agnes. “You’re not telling me what to do either, Carl.”

“Yes, I am. I’m the leader. And so let me tell you you’re not being smart. If some of us run, all of us get fucked. They’ll never trust us to make contact with Trespassers if half of us run and become Trespassers. They’ll send us back to the City. All of us.” Carl’s voice cracked, and a chill went through Agnes. “If you run, you ruin this chance we have at something more.”

“Not necessarily,” said Val, though now her voice was softened. She bit her lip.

“Oh, come on, Val.” Carl sneered. “Use that little brain of yours.”

“Oh, you fucker,” said Val, and then Baby Egret woke, squalling, hungry, papoosed against her. “Dammit,” Val growled, thrusting her hands deep down her front and latching Baby Egret to her. When she straightened, she had tears streaming down her face. “Well, fuck,” she screamed into her hand while Egret nursed.

Carl was right, Agnes realized, and she imagined Val had just realized it too. The Rangers would never reward those who remained. They would only notice who was gone. And they would punish everyone. She felt a hand on her arm and recoiled, thinking it was a hand meant to ensnare her. But it was Jake. He walked his fingers down to hers and held her hand tight.

“But you hate following the rules,” Val wailed to Carl, accusingly.

“I’m not going to run away and hide like a fugitive. I have a right to be here.” He lifted his chin. “Running away is cowardly,” he said.

Val laughed. And then she laughed more, tears streaming, shaking wildly until Baby Egret shook loose from her nipple and squalled again.

“I honestly don’t see what’s so funny,” sniffed Carl, and then he cast looks around. “This thing you want to do is going to get us all in trouble.”

“You can’t trust the Rangers, Carl,” pleaded Val. “You know that. They are looking out for themselves. Why do you think they won’t round you up when they round up the Trespassers?”

“I trust them more than I trust a bunch of people who came here uninvited and are ruining it for the rest of us.” Spittle foamed in the corners of his mouth, and Agnes understood. Carl was bitter. He had been given something special that was being taken away, and he needed someone to blame. Val nodded and took a step toward Agnes. Agnes noticed the Community members shifting positions. People crept closer to her or to her mother. They were quietly making decisions about the rest of their lives.

She looked at her mother, who had been strangely silent. Her mother’s face was blank. Somewhere in her head she was lost in a maze of calculations.

Frank said, “Well, I think it’s easy to take their word on the Private Lands existing. We’ve all seen the footage.”

“We haven’t,” said Agnes. “The original Community. We left the City certain the Private Lands were a story dreamed up by crazy people. Now we’re expected to believe they are real, and more, that we get to live there? Who are we that we get to live there? What have we done except betray others who want the same thing we want? To be here. We can all run, together. We know how to hide.”

Celeste was behind Agnes, muttering “Patty” and wagging her hand. Patty’s parents were behind Bea, hissing for Patty to join them. Poor Patty in the middle. The Newcomer adults had always wanted to go to the Private Lands. This deal with the Rangers must have felt like a miracle, and they weren’t going to waste it. But the younger Newcomers had a very different feeling about their future, as young people often do.

“I’m not going back there,” Carl said. “Your mother has told me everything I need to know about the City. And now about the Private Lands.” Agnes realized he was speaking only to her. His eyes were steady even as his voice wavered. “We have to be unified on this,” said Carl.

“Oh, now you need a unanimous decision? You need consensus!” Debra laughed. “That is perfect.”

“Oh, shut up, Debra,” he said.

“Fuck you, Carl. You’ve reached the limit of your power.”

“Don’t bet on it,” said Carl, putting his finger up to Debra’s face.

What happened next took seconds, but to Agnes it felt as though sunsets and sunrises had passed, and by the end she was wrung out, starved, unquenched, bereft, but clearheaded.

Carl turned fast like a jackrabbit toward the Lodge and screamed, “Rangers!”

And just as quickly Jake brought him to the ground. Jake, wiry and desperate, stepped on his knee and grabbed his foot as everyone watched agape. Carl howled and flopped to get away, but he was pinned. Agnes could see the instinct take over in Jake and knew that he was about to drop his weight and twist in such a way that would irreparably break Carl’s leg. A broken leg would leave him defenseless. He would not survive. The Rangers would leave him there to die. Or maybe, if he was lucky, they would pity him and ride him out so he could return to the City. Was that a death sentence too?

Carl panted, slobbered, “Please, please.”

“Stop,” Agnes yelled.

Jake froze, peered up.

“You’ll kill him.”

“So?” Jake scowled.