The sound of urgent knocking woke all three of them later. Justin was the first to recognize the sound for what it was and made his way through the darkened house to the front door.

A man huddled close against the doorframe, checking over his shoulder, then the van at the curb.

“Who are you?” Justin demanded when he opened the door.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve-“

“Yeah, it does. Who are you?”

“Chase. I work at… That really doesn’t matter. Please, I have your friend.”

Lance and Joey had come into the room behind Justin. “You've got JC?” Lance asked.

“Yes,” Chase said. “Please hurry.” He checked over his shoulder again. “It’s death if I'm seen.”

Justin nodded quickly and followed him back to the van. “In the back,” Chase said, and Justin went around.

He opened the van door, hurried and eager, his heart in his throat, catching his breath and his hope. He exhaled it all on a long sigh when his eyes adjusted to the complete dark of the van’s interior.

JC lay on a small, brown blanket. He was curled on his side, arms wrapped around his head.

“He’s still knocked out. He moves some, but he hasn’t woken up.”

Joey came up behind Justin and pushed him aside, wrapping his arms around JC’s long, narrow body. Joey lifted him easily from the van’s floor.

Lance wrapped his hand around Justin’s and tried to pull him back inside. Justin stopped and turned to Chase. “Why?” he asked.

Chase shrugged. “Their rules are stupid,” was all he said as he got back in the van. He turned around, almost as an afterthought. “Plus, he’s my type.”

He shut the door and drove away, but Justin stared after the red taillights of the van; long after it had turned off his street and disappeared.

“Come on,” Lance said quietly, still pulling gently on Justin’s hand.

Justin turned and followed Lance inside.