Later, when the world around them grew black as pitch, their fire the only light interrupting the night, Jack gutted and cleaned the rabbits he’d shot earlier. With a long stick, Emmett held the meat over the fire, turning it carefully so as not to burn it. Fat sizzled as the logs cracked, their scant warmth holding back the evening chill. When the meal was cooked, the men ate in a comfortable silence. Once or twice Jack elbowed Emmett over, hoping for more room, but Emmett didn’t give another inch. After a while, Jack gave up.
As the fire gutted low among the tinder, Emmett leaned back, one hand on the ground behind Jack. His partner shrugged, as if that would somehow give him more space, but it didn’t. For a long moment, Emmett stared into the flickering flames, gathering up his courag
