Ray’s legs burned with every step, but he kept moving, one foot in front of the other, eyes fixed on the gray strip of pavement stretching endlessly ahead. The silence between the boys had settled heavy for a while, broken only by the crunch of shoes on asphalt and the occasional call of the soldiers’ guns.

He glanced sideways at them — the only person he’d been able to talk to without feeling like his mind was slipping. Their face was pale, sweat clinging to their temples, but their stride matched his. “Still alive,” Ray muttered, his voice rough from thirst and exhaustion, but carrying the faintest thread of humor. He adjusted the strap of his pack and added, “Think we’ll make it to the next marker together?”