Chapter 3
Sometime in the wee hours of dawn, Court woke. There was no slow ascent out of his dreaming self to awareness—one moment he was asleep; the next, he was not. He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness of the tent, waiting. Was something out there?
Behind him, Ronnie muttered in his sleep. His sleeping bag rustled as he rolled over, then Court felt a heavy arm wrap around his waist. Ronnie tucked his head against Court’s back and snuggled close, pulling Court back against him. It wasn’t the first time Ronnie had sought out Court’s warmth in the night, and as Court felt his friend’s breath flutter against his skin, he prayed to God it wouldn’t be the last.
A low burst of static caught his attention, and his gaze flickered up to where the radio rested, just beyond his pillow
