The butt of his gun was smooth from constant use, and Thomas fingered it nervously as he waited, tapping out a rhythm on the hard wood.

“Do you have to do that?” Mat hissed.

“Unless you have a cigarette, yes,” Thomas said. “Yes I do.”

“You’re distracting me,” Mat replied. “We need to be ready when they get here.”

“Ha! Do you think being ready will make any difference? You know what they did to the Fifth. Rolled right over them, and shot the prisoners. And our boys will shoot you if you try to run. The great menace from the East is on its way, and we’re going to crumble before it.”

Mat fingered his own gun, worn through another man’s use. “At least I haven’t given up.”

“That, my naive friend, is what makes you a fool.”