Steve sleeps in his burlap sack on the wooden floor. He'd felt a nudge. Opened his eyes to look at Maxwell leaning over him.
"We need to try to escape the camp." Maxwell's expression was hard.
Steve shook his head. "No. It's too dangerous. We'll get killed trying."
"Steve, it's worth the risk," Maxwell hissed. "The reform is overcrowded, and we're starving. They're working us longer hours on less food—I nearly blacked out yesterday."
"But where would we go?" Steve's eyes widened.
"To Anua. It's a safe country to live in. It's just across the border from here."
"I don't know," Steve said, scratching his head. "Is it safer to try sneaking onto a boat?"
"No," Maxwell replied. "I know you've heard the rumours about Jared escaping the campgrounds, but the boats aren't coming back. Not after the wheat fields were destroyed. Cascadia can't trade wheat with other countries anymore. This is our only way out of the camp."
"Too many guards are patrolling the area." Steve shook his head.
"Sometimes you have to take risks," Maxwell said. "We'll leave in the middle of the night—less chance they'll see us."
Steve exhaled slowly, then nodded. "Alright. Let's do it. Let's get out of this hellhole together."