--------------------------------------------------------‐-- The Tunneler smiled as he began to recite something. “Welcome, Laurel, into the Seventh District. Hear these words. I am the Tunneler and I am the Truth.”      “He is the Tunneler and the Truth.” Everyone echoed. Laurel felt her heart begin to race as she heard the recitations continue.      “We have kept this hallowed hollow since Whitson's day. The first Tunneler was snatched from the deck of Vanguard in Ayman lake when the raptors first attacked on their way to level Seddleton. And they did level that first Natalian settlement, carrying off scores, who were brought here to be slaves in Akolan. Among them, him who became the Tunneler. The Tunneler dug this tunnel and cave for fifty years, and he died. The next Tunneler did the same, and he died. The next, and he died. They all died, but I am alive. And I am the Tunneler. I will never stop until we all are free.”      “We will never stop until we all are free!” Everyone answered, voices raised as one. Laurel looked up at the old buck and saw him raise his hands.      “Go friends, and fight in your own ways, until that day when we shall cry out and come out, our chains and slavery behind.” Then he lowered his hands, as if to signify the meeting was ended. It must’ve, for many rabbits retied the red scarves around their necks before exiting the room through the tunnel. But some still remained and spoke in low voices.      Laurel felt a hand touch her shoulder and she turned. It was the twins, Harmony and Melody. They both smiled. “Welcome. It feels good to have another young doe in the District,” Melody expressed, a warm smile on her face. Laurel smiled back. “Thank you. It sounds like you have a dangerous mission ahead of you both,” she pointed out, noticing the old buck was turned in their direction, his ears towards them.      Melody smiled, a bit of mischief in her eyes. “Someone has to do it. Besides, it might speed up a lot of things. I know its only your first night here, and you’ll have lots to learn. But as long as you stay alert, everything will be fine.” Laurel thought she saw some sort of eagerness in her eyes, and more so than anyone in her situation should be. She has to be careful, Laurel mused.      Out of nowhere, Dylan strode up confidently to where the trio stood chatting. “Ladies,” he greeted. Harmony gave him a smile but Melody scowled.      “You be careful, lieutenant. I hear that there are some other bucks catching a scent in your ranks. Watch yourself.” She growled. Laurel was shocked and confused at this sort of statement. Catching a scent? What did she mean?      Dylan crossed his arms and stared at Melody, his stern, almost unreadable mannerisms returning once again. “You don’t need to worry about that, miss. But I would worry about your interview. Some reports have been circulating of troublemakers trying to find jobs in higher places. And it wont be any of my bucks catching scents. It will be wolves.”      Laurel stared at Dylan in shock, completely taken aback by his fierce response. Harmony wore a pinched expression and Melody looked furious. Melody turned and stomped towards the tunnel, fumbling in her pocket for her prey mark. Harmony dropped her voice to a whisper before following her sister.      “Lieutenant, Melody can worry about herself. But its nice to have someone watching our backs.” She said this with a poker face, a scowl slowly taking shape. Dylan stared back at her, his tone quiet.      “I understand, Harmony. But where I work, I don’t have someone watching my back. And its particularly hazardous to find this kind of information.” Harmony gritted her teeth. Turning to Laurel, she spoke again.      “Laurel, you have a good buck on your case; but let me tell you, he can be a real stitch in your side if he thinks you aren’t careful enough. Learn to hide things from him,” and she headed towards the tunnel. Laurel watched, bewildered, as Harmony disappeared inside the small passageway. Then she turned to Dylan. He had a small smile on his face.      Laurel sighed. “There’s a lot to learn, isn’t there?” She asked. Dylan frowned.      “So to speak, yes. But you’ll get answers, believe me. The next meeting is tomorrow night, and you might be able to talk to the Tunneler afterwards.” Laurel nodded slowly, allowing her other thoughts to come back to her attention.      “Dylan, will you help? With, well… everything? I-I don’t… know how I’ll be able to hide this from my mom, or how I’ll get away without getting caught or…” she trailed off, biting her lip as she recollected vague memories of her dad slipping out at night, or saying things to her mother that didn’t add up. How did he do it?      Dylan met her gaze and nodded, motioning her to follow him towards the tunnel.      “Go back to that corner house where we had eaten. We'll talk when we get there.” He instructed quietly. Laurel gave him a confused look.      “Where are you going?” She asked, a twinge of anxiety in her stomach. Dylan grimaced.      “I need to talk to one of the leaders of the Seventh District about something, and it’s a private matter. I’m sorry, but I wont be able to explain to you what it is for a while… well, unless its urgent.” Laurel inhaled and nodded, reaching into her pocket for her prey mark.      “Fine; see you soon.” She answered, crouching down as she crawled into the dank, dark tunnel. As she made her way, she pondered everything that had occurred. The Tunneler, Melody and Harmony, it all seemed so new; but everything they did went back to the time of king Whitson. The Administration didn’t know about the resistance. Or did they?      Laurel realized that Dylan had to be extremely careful. She hoped that she too would be careful; at home, at work. But as she continued through the tunnel, she wondered what she would tell her mom. She hoped that Dylan would give her some ideas.      Laurel scowled. Stop thinking about Dylan so much; yes, he’s a part of the resistance and he helped you get in; but you don’t need to think about him in every aspect of your day to day life. Huffing quietly to herself, Laurel decided that she would try to keep as quiet as possible in regard to her questions and confusions. She had no idea how hard that would be in the weeks to come.        Laurel shivered as she entered the alleyway that led to the house. The sky was a pitch black and the evening had cooled off significantly. Her thin shirt gave little to no warmth and her limbs began to ache. She was looking forward to going home to bed, with a cup of hot water maybe to warm her up. Laurel pushed open the door and entered the house, feeling a strange sense of security in the enclosed space. As she sat down, Laurel wondered if Patrick had come home during the evening. If he did, she hoped that he would be asleep by the time she arrived so that she didn’t have to lie to him.      Her heart dipped at the thought. She would have to tell her mom something. But what? She was thinking up of all sorts of excuses when the door creaked open. “Laurel?” A voice asked. A small smile tugged at her mouth.      “What, you don’t trust I’ll listen to your instructions?” She asked. Dylan slipped inside and shut the door, withdrawing a small lamp and setting it on the table. He then pulled out some flint and had a light going. It gave the room a mystic feel, but at least there was some light now.      “I trust you; just wanted to be sure it was you and not someone waiting to jump out and slaughter me,” he answered sarcastically. Laurel thought she heard a smile in his tone but it was hard to tell.      She waited till Dylan sat down before she broke the silence.      “Did you have a good meeting, whatever it was about?” Dylan just nodded, but he looked worried.      “Listen, Laurel; I spoke with someone tonight- about checking in with you every once in a while, that is, and I found out some news.” Laurel raised her eyebrows in surprise.      “Okay…?”      Dylan inhaled. “Patrick might be moved to a different home in the next week.” Laurel blinked, wondering if she heard right. Dylan’s expression was one of pain. He wasn’t joking. Laurel looked down and folded her arms in front of her, trying to keep calm.      “How did you find out?” She asked, her voice hoarse. Dylan hung his head. “There are a few others in the resistance that happen to be in positions of leadership. He told me tonight. I’m sorry.” Laurel closed her eyes and pictured Patrick. She could see the small buck giggling as he played a game of tag. He was still so young and innocent. If he was moved, he wouldn’t be the same again. He had grown to love living with her and her mom. Losing him would probably be the end of her mother.      “What else does that mean?” She asked. The silver buck grimaced.      “It can mean lots of things, and I hardly understand them myself. But one of them is that you and your mother are being watched. It was somehow discovered that your dad was part of some resistance- that the Administration hardly knows about themselves- and he was taken out. But I don’t know what would’ve triggered this decision. It could mean many things. Laurel,” he stopped, raising his head so that he could make eye contact with her. His gaze was hard.      “Define this in as many ways as you want, but: always be careful. I want to be able to help you, but I might not be able to if there are changes. Guaranteed I’ll be given information tomorrow when I report for duty, and that might mean I can’t tell you or the resistance anything until the next meeting. Anything can happen between now and then.”      Laurel slowly nodded as she mulled this over.      “Dylan, this has been the strangest day.” She pointed out. Dylan smirked.      “I know, and I’m sorry about that. Now, we have to leave in about fifteen minutes. Between now and then, what do you need clarification on?” Laurel rolled her eyes.      “Lots of things, but I’ll keep it simple. First, how do I tell my mom? And how do I keep myself safe?”      Dylan frowned and his eyes narrowed slightly.      “First, you don’t tell your mom. And second? You stay cautious, no matter what. The wrong move could mean death, Laurel. As it is, your family is being watched. It doesn’t take much for the Administration to single you out and have you arrested. And being arrested only means one thing.” Laurel knew what that meant.      “Vitton.”