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basic needs and indulged in the unexpected luxury of washing themselves and putting on clean clothes. The mood of the group that had been tense and borderline argumentative all day finally lifted, and there were a lot more smiles. Even laughter, especially when Trev, his siblings, and their cousin caught sight of their parents looking unfamiliar in their new pajamas.
    Although everyone admitted they were a huge improvement on the coveralls they'd been forced to wear in the internment camp.
    As everyone else settled into bed Trev headed out to check on the truck and make sure everything was secure for the night. Lucas had locked the doors and the gas tanks before they went inside, but it didn't hurt to double check.
    His dad announced he would come along, and together they went over the vehicle. Afterwards Trev took a moment to stand on the porch, watching the sun lowering towards the horizon over the unkempt fields beyond the town. Even exhausted as he was it felt good to be on his feet after sitting for so long, and his dad seemed to have the same idea as he came over to stand beside him with his hands on the railing. “Hard to believe the sun still rises and sets after yesterday,” he said quietly.
    Trev nodded, letting a contented silence stretch on for a few minutes.
    After a while his dad turned to rest a hand on his shoulder. “It's hard to say what needs to be said sometimes, but I just wanted you to know how much it means to all of us that you risked your life to come and find us. When that machine gun was tearing after you yesterday, when it seemed impossible you could survive-”
    His dad sucked in a sharp breath, mild features twisting in sudden grief, and he pulled Trev into a fierce hug. “I'm just glad you're okay, son.” Trev hugged him back, tears pricking at his eyes. Especially when his dad continued. “Everything you've been through, everything you've accomplished . . . you can't believe how proud I am of you. I just wanted you to know.”
    Trev tried to reply, but the words wouldn't come through the lump in his throat. After a bit his dad pulled away, and together they watched the sun sink towards the ruined fields. By mutual unspoken agreement they went in to sleep not long afterwards, before the sun had fully set, and as Trev pulled Vernon's gifted blankets around him his exhaustion hit him with the weight of the truck parked outside.
    He slept like the dead for almost ten hours, and still felt like he could go back to sleep if he wanted when he opened his eyes to a predawn glow trickling in through the window. It wasn't much, barely enough to see his hand in front of his eyes, but he resisted the temptation of his comfortable bed and pulled himself into a sitting position.
    As far as he knew he was the first one awake. He sat in the predawn darkness for a while, savoring the quiet outside and the peaceful sounds of breathing and soft snores from his siblings, before finally reaching over to pull on his boots. Careful not to wake Jim and Linda he got to his feet as quietly as possible and slipped out of the room, then down the stairs and through the front door into a morning so early most would still call it night.
    The air was crisp and chilly, and as far as he could see no one but him was up yet and no lights were on in the town. He shivered slightly, wishing he had a jacket, and hurried over to check on the truck and make sure none of the diesel had been siphoned.
    As far as he could tell it hadn't, and the clumsy inspection he made, mostly by touch, reassured him that nothing had been stolen and the vehicle hadn't been tampered with. He had half feared he might find Westman and his barflies poking around while the town slept, and it was a relief to see that nothing was amiss.
    “Not much fuel in there.”
    Trev jumped a full foot, and it took all his willpower to not shout in surprise as he whirled towards the front porch he'd just walked across. The sheriff was there reclined on his porch