The away mission begins.

Three hours later, it's fully dark beyond the windows of the apartment. Grant glances out of them, marveling at how normal the streets look, streetlamps having clicked on automatically. Around him, though, the scene is anything but normal: Mary, Olivia, Lily, and Jaz have all changed into dark clothes, their own in the case of Olivia and Lily and borrowed on the parts of Mary and Jaz. Grant, too, is clad all in black, in some clothes that he transported up from his old apartment. They look like some sort of special forces unit - particularly because of the guns. Mary and Jaz have claimed the rifles (seemingly out of habit) but Mary's given Grant, Olivia, and Lily each a handgun and basic instructions in its use and safety. The pistol feels heavy and cold in his hand. He really hopes they never have to fire it.

"I still don't see why I can't come," Mel whines, arms folded as she stands there in her blue nightie. She's cleaned herself up a bit, but she's been whining about this for the last half hour.

Grant sighs. "I told you before, Mel - we need someone to stay here and watch your sister." And none of us really trust you to handle a gun. "We'll all be back soon, if all goes well. In the meantime, you stay here and don't open the door for anyone except your mother - got it?"

"Yes, Grant," Mel says with a sigh. She hesitates, biting her lip, then suddenly lunges forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a passionate kiss. Grant, surprised, kisses her back for a few seconds before pulling away. Mel looks up at him with shining eyes and (below her nightie) bare, pink thighs. "Come back soon, Grant! I can't wait to fuck you again..."

"We'd better go," Mary says dryly. "Come on, everyone."

The five of them head out the door, Jaz closing it behind them, and into the hallway. Grant shakes his head as they walk toward the stairs, blushing slightly. "Sorry, ah...sorry about that."

"What for?" Lily asks, voice teasing. "She's clearly got it bad for you. Thanks to you giving it to her good earlier, huh?" She winks and Grant blushes harder. Oh...yeah, I guess they would've...been able to hear all that. "Don't feel bad about making a girl addicted to your cock, stud. Though don't feel too good about it either, at least not when it's only the 19-year-old...sometime you ought to let me and Jaz give that thing a try, so we can all compare notes."

"Focus," Mary says sharply. "We need to stay sharp out there. Grant will fuck who he wants, when he wants."

Lily raises an eyebrow. "Yes, ma'am." She grins saucily at Grant as they start to head down the stairs.

They make it out of the building and into the streets without any trouble. For all the world, it looks at first blush like a normal night here at the end of summer: the street lights are on, there are lights on in many of the buildings. But the streets are eerily empty, and the city is quiet - except for the sound of a distant siren and, faintly, what might be gunfire. Grant and the four women look around, tense, as Jaz begins to lead them out. "Let's get out of the open," she says. "Don't wanna look like prey if we can avoid it."

They move through the darkened streets with purpose, sticking tightly together. Grant notices that, no matter what he does or how he moves, the women quickly rearrange themselves around him so that they're traveling in a diamond pattern - with him in the center. Jaz leads the way, Mary stays to his right, Lily to his left, and Olivia at the rear. He wonders, briefly and guiltily, whether they've planned this arrangement or are somehow doing it instinctively.

Their trip to Northern Prep is quiet and uneventful, though they hear a few screams and, once, the squeal of tires nearby that makes them duck into an alleyway. Someone tears down the street outside in a large car, music blaring, but for the most part, people seem to be laying low. "I wonder if everyone's waiting to see how long this lasts," Mary mutters.

"Could be," Lily replies. "Sabi's staying in, I know. Doesn't want to take too much of a risk."

Occasionally they see evidence of **** - blood on the pavement, smashed windows. Their steps always speed up when they pass sights like that. But no one attempts to **** them, and when they finally get to the school, Jaz leads them to the hole in the fence and across the dark schoolyard toward the back door. "Perfect," she mutters as she gently pulls at the handle and finds it unlocked. The group, silent as shadows, slips inside.

"No lights," Mary warns them. The halls are dark, but windows let in the faint orange-yellow glow of the city lights beyond the schoolyard. The group creeps forward, sticking tight to the walls and following Jaz as she leads the way down a maintenance corridor, around a corner, and toward a small office with a large glass window. When they're about thirty feet from the door, though, a bright, fluorescent light flicks on in the office.

Grant instinctively flattens himself against the wall, and Jaz, ahead of him, drops into a low crouch. On the far side of the hall, he sees Mary and Lily do the same, while Olivia's hand grabs his shoulder with surprising strength, clearly ready to pull him to the ground. But no one shouts or shoots at them, and suddenly Grant realizes he can hear a voice speaking, filtering through the ventilation slots on the door to the office.

"...here we go. It's a bit away from the others, at least."

"Thanks...I just, I don't know. I had to get out of there."

One of the speakers comes into view as she continues: "Of course, hon. I get it. It's...I don't know. Depressing." She's a woman in her late 30s, with long, dark brown hair and striking Italian features, clad in a professional navy blue dress that nonetheless hugs her generous curves.

"Depressing being the rejects? Or is it that we're the ones whose families and friends are already dead?" The second speaker enters the frame of the window. This one is much younger, maybe in her early 20s, and is a skinny, freckled white woman with red hair cropped into a short pixie cut. She wears a graphic t-shirt tied into a crop top and short shorts, and as she glances out the window Grant's heart leaps into his throat. But her gaze seems to just slide over him and move on, despite his pounding heart. They turned the lights on in there...and it's dark out here, Grant realizes as he watches her turn back to the brunette. They can't see us...

"I'm sure your family's not dead, Jen," the older woman is saying firmly. "It's just - everything seems to be a goddam mess, right now. Your dad'll get here."

Jen shakes her head with a dark chuckle. "Nah, he won't. He's been a fucking asshole my whole life, and this..." She shudders. "I bet he claimed my mom first, but he wouldn't have stopped there...he's probably got half a dozen women enslaved by now."

"That's..." The brunette bites her lip, then sighs and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Jen. What'll you do?"

"I dunno. Don't really want to go home. Maybe try to get out of the city..." The redhead glances at the older woman. "What are you gonna do, Ms. DiVolta?"

"Please, Jen. Under the circumstances, you can call me Leanne." Leanne runs a hand over her long hair, sighing heavily. "And...I don't know. I don't feel like I can leave without making sure all of these women are safe somewhere, but...the longer we stay here, the less safe we're likely to remain." She snorts. "At least I don't have a partner or kid waiting for me out there, so I actually can stay here. But still...it's getting nerve-wracking."

Jen sniffles. "Yeah...I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm glad you're here with us, though...not sure we would've held up this well without you."

"Oh, I'm just a...an overworked administrator," Leanne says with a tired laugh. "But I don't feel like I can leave with the women here still ****."

"That's really good of you..." Jen hesitates, visibly torn, as Leanne leans back to rest against the desk in the office. "I...Ms. DiVolta...Leanne...if we do manage to get out of here soon...could I go with you?"

"Go with me?" Leanne blinks, visibly surprised. "With me where?"

"Wherever! I just...like I said, I don't want to go home, and I feel like we're...better off together, right?" Jen hurries to Leanne's side, elfin face ****. "I...I promise I can be useful, and two heads have gotta be better than one for whatever's going on out there...I know you've got your car here, so maybe we could get out of the city and just go...I don't know, somewhere? Anywhere? There've got to be places where it's less crazy, somewhere it's not as messed up as here...fewer men, or just better ones because they don't see everyone else doing what they want to..."

"I..." Leanne stutters. "I...I can't promise you anything, Jen. I'm happy to try to...take care of you, but I don't know if we'd be safe. I don't even know what I plan to do yet...!"

"That's ok. I trust you," Jen says, and the puppy-like adoration on her face is plain for Grant to see even at this distance and through the window. "I just...I've always trusted you, ever since you came here in my senior year and straightened things up. I just...I know that you'll take care of us. And I..." She drops her gaze, bashful, then suddenly looks up and lunges, desperately, toward Leanne, seizing the older woman's shoulders as she pulls her into a frantic kiss. Leanne's hands fly up and her eyes widen in startlement, but then after a moment she closes her eyes and her hands land gently on Jen's shoulders.

Grant watches with interest as the two women kiss, yards away, in the bright office. Across the hall, Mary catches his attention with a furtive wave and jerks her head toward the office. Do we go in? her gesture clearly asks.