“It’s nothing you didn’t tell us about, Mom. Give him a break.” Caleb had pulled ahead of her and taken the lead, next to McCrea. Luke walked with her, and Copley brought up the rear. The whole parade stretched no more than ten yards.

“Major McCrea?” Caleb asked.

“Yep.”

“Can I call you Joe, too?”

“It’s better than asshole,” McCrea said, eliciting the laugh he was hoping for.

“Do you think we’re going to be okay?”

Was it possible that the kid had literally grown overnight? He looked two inches taller in the light of day than he had last night. “Before I answer, do you agree that the truth is always better than a lie, even if the truth is hard to hear?”

Caleb hesitated. “I guess?”

“Nope, no guessing to it. It’s a yes or a no. And of those two options, only one will get you an answer to your question. I don’t blow sunshine well.”

“Okay, then, the truth is always better.”

“Excellent. Then, yes, I think we’re going to be okay. At least for the foreseeable future, which, in all honesty, is not as foreseeable as it was yesterday.”

“Did millions of people really die last night?”

“I don’t know for sure,” McCrea said. “But probably.”

“They won’t get funerals or anything, will they?”

McCrea’s vision clouded as his mind filled with the images of his wife, Julia, and their daughters, Tina and Toni. They lived close enough to DC that he was confident that they knew nothing, felt nothing. He doubted that there would be remains to bury or a church to hold the funeral in. “A lot of them won’t,” he said.

“That’s really sad.”

“Yes, it is.”

McCrea sensed that the small talk was leading up to something big—the real point of why the boy started walking with him.

“You know my dad’s dead, right?”

“Your mother told me he died a hero. I’m sorry for your loss. It’s never easy—”

“It’s my job to protect my mom and Luke,” Caleb said, then shot a look over his shoulder to see if he’d been heard.

The kid was claiming his territory. McCrea admired that. “I’m told you’ve been well trained and that you’ve done a good job,” he said.

“I haven’t had to do anything yet. But if the time comes, I will.”

“There’s more to protecting people than fighting. Sometimes it means just being there for someone.” Seconds passed in silence. “But that’s not really what you want to talk about, is it?”

“What do you mean?” He watched his feet as they trudged on. “I just . . .” His voice trailed away.

“We promised to be honest,” McCrea reminded. “Spit it out.”

“I don’t want you to treat me like a kid, okay? I’m sixteen. I’m scrawny, but I’m strong. And tough.”