A few moments of silence, then Ezra called again. “Nyle, I was thinking—”

“I’ll be down in a second!”

I came over to Gran and watched as she slid the box flap open. “I’m not as scared of taking him out as he is of going.” The smell of mothballs and old wool tickled inside my nostrils. I sneezed.

Gran pulled out some yellowed newspapers, brushed away the worst of the mouse droppings, then handed the box to me. “Let him choose what he wants out of here. Tell him to shake things out good before he wears them.”

I carried the box down the steps to the kitchen, where I found Ezra with his back to the outside door, fists clenched. When he saw me, he reached for the mask on his face.

“Nyle, I—”

I interrupted. “Gran thought you might find some warm clothes in this box. Go through and pull out what you can use. It’s not as cold as yesterday, but you’ll be glad of this stuff.”

I tugged my coat on. Ezra watched me, started to say something, then gritted his teeth. Pulling things out of the musty, water-stained box, he scrambled to match me, hat for hat, glove for glove.

“See you later, Gran,” I called up the steps to my room. “Come on, Ezra. Come on, Caleb. Let’s see how the puppy did last night.”

Mrs. Trent stood in the hallway, blocking Ezra’s escape to the back bedroom. She made a gesture for Ezra to pull his hat down over his ears. Ezra glared at her.

I pushed the kitchen door open and stepped outside. I expected Ezra to hesitate, but he followed right behind. He gasped as the cold air hit him, his mask collapsing in.

Okay, Ezra was out the door. I hoped the cold weather would keep Ripley and Muncie in, so I wouldn’t have to explain anything. The skin on my face tightened with cold.

“Do you have the detector?” Ezra asked, looking nervous. I handed it to him. “You take it,” I said, “but everything is safe, Ezra, I promise. It’s all safe here. You can go without the mask if you want.”

The puppy barked once from the front pasture, pacing back and forth, his tail wagging. He didn’t mind the cold at all.

Ezra walked, sweeping the radiation detector in front and to the side, ready to bolt back toward the farmhouse any second. His rapid breathing made the gauze mask flutter in and out. But the radiation detector ticked harmlessly.

“Let’s go, Ezra,” I said. “We’ve got sheep to tend.”

Ezra walked close enough that our coats brushed sometimes, close enough that he tripped me once by catching the back of my boot with his foot. “Sorry,” he mumbled through the mask.

He struggled to keep pace with me in the icy air. I slowed down, the way I did with Muncie. Ezra hadn’t been outside in a long time.

We headed for the front pasture first, to let the puppy out. As soon as I opened a wedge in the portable fence, the knee-high dog barked with excitement and bounded over to Ezra. He tumbled like a small white mountain around his feet, making sweet squeals of pleasure.