I lay stiff beside Albion and couldn’t sleep. His hand rested inside my dress, upon my breast. I raised it to my lips, kissed it, and sat up.

“What?” he mumbled.

“Cant sleep. Got to walk. I’ll be back in a little while.”

I pulled on my cracked leather boots and went outside. The moon was full and the sky littered with stars. I wandered toward the railroad track, met Sam Gore, who stood sentry on the edge of the camp. Sam’s house had been burned by the Baldwin guards and he lived with us now.

“What you doing up?” he said.

“I had to walk.” I studied his gun. “You kilt anybody yet, Sam?”

“No. But way I feel right now, I wouldnt mind to.”

“I almost did today. I shot a machine gun at some state police.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I done heard tell of it. That there would have been something to see.”

“I didnt know how to aim the thing. Didnt know nothing about it. I could have blowed their heads off as easy as what I did. Didnt really care, neither.” I hugged myself and bounced on my toes to keep warm. “My brother used to take me hunting when I was a youngun. First time I kilt a squirrel I cried for hours. Wouldnt eat it or nothing. But I got used to it and went hunting all the time. I wonder if it’s that way with killing people. I wonder if you can git used to it.”

Sam nodded. “It be like a war, I reckon. Aint nobody care for it, but it be here on us. Me, I’d rather be playing baseball than toting this here gun.”

I smiled. “I seen you play baseball. Seen you pitch. You beat Davidson.”

“Yeah, we sure enough did beat Davidson.”

I walked on down the track.

“Dont go too far now, hear?” he called after me.

I waved at him and walked the rail, setting one foot carefully in front of the other. It was comforting, as though keeping my balance on the rail would make everything all right. The rail vibrated. I looked up, surprised because there was no sign of a headlight, and slipped off onto the gravel track bed. Then I heard the engine. It sounded like the slow train, but it was too late for that. Well, I thought, if no one is leaving the camp, someone may be arriving. Suddenly I was sure that it was Rondal, that he would leap from a swaying boxcar and be with us again. I ran down the slope of the track bed and walked backward, never taking my eyes off the approaching train.

“What the hell is that?” I heard Sam yell.

Then the engine drowned him out. It still did not show a headlight, but the smoke from its stack gave off a light of its own. I searched the darkness in vain for a hand dangling a red bandana. Then the engine was past me and I saw the iron boxcar with its door slightly ajar. I ran toward Sam.