With the truck and its contents safely stored in an abandoned gas station, Dylan and the others returned to the house. Despite the hour, Dylan was too hyped to sleep. After showering and putting on a clean pair of jeans, he wandered restlessly though the downstairs, stopping to turn on the TV, only to turn it off again minutes later since nothing interested him. Deciding maybe some fresh air would help, he went out to the porch on the side of the house, settling on the steps.
“Do I really belong here?” He leaned back on his hands, staring up at the dark sky as he pondered the question. Is this what I’m meant to do or am I just fooling myself? Do I really have it in me to be…to be like Jonah, Alastair, Mars, and the others? A crusader for justice when everything else has failed. Or will I
