They sat side by side against the wall, sides pressing together. Joey’s hand was in his, their fingers laced together, gripping so tightly their knuckles were white.

Justin stood near them, his arms crossed over his chest, shoulders hunched, back against the wall.

They all watched JC. Lance felt bad for him, having to face down the stares of his three best friends, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“It’s just… I’m a Healer,” JC said quietly, dropping his chin to his chest. He started shaking, though Lance thought it might have more to do with the pain he experienced constantly now than the cold. “I’m a class 3, which I guess means I do it with sex.”

“You mean when they activated you? You became a Healer?” Joey whispered.

JC nodded.

“So that’s why they wanted to kill you,” Justin breathed, almost soundless but JC heard him and nodded again.

Lance didn’t say anything, but he looked up when Joey pulled his hand away. He pushed himself up from the wall, moving slowly and awkwardly, as if expecting the movement to hurt.

Joey stepped quickly and quietly across the ground separating him and JC and pulled him into his arms. “Thank you,” Lance thought he heard.

JC nodded against his shoulder. “Anytime.”

They all lined the wall now, in the shadow of the dumpster. Holding hands, speaking in whispers, they tried figure out what they were going to do now.

“We can’t go back,” Justin said. “Joey and I are dead and we can’t feed all of us on the rations meant for Lance and me.”

Joey paled and tightened his grip on Lance’s hand at the mention of his death. “What are we going to do?”

Justin looked down the row. “I don’t know,” he said.

Conversation had run out hours ago. They knew they couldn’t stay there much longer, but they still hadn’t figured out a destination. They all held hands and huddled together for warmth, except JC, who huddled for comfort, in an effort to ease the pain.

He sat up suddenly, dislodging Justin’s arm. “They’re coming,” he whispered. “It wants me to go. Hold me. Don’t let me…”

Justin wrapped his arms around JC, holding him to the ground as JC pushed against him. He looked back at Lance and Joey.

“They’re going to notice,” Joey whispered. “My body’s gone. They’re going to look.”

Lance, who had the best view of the street, saw the lights of the Guards before the others. “The car stopped,” he said, voice quavering on the edge of panic. He could dimly hear their conversation, but their footsteps seemed louder, so loud the sound almost pounded against his skull.

They all huddled even closer together, pressed against the wall and the dumpster and praying that the shadow covered them enough that they couldn’t be seen.

Lance buried his face against Joey’s shoulder, hiding his face from the light of the street. He heard the Guard’s footsteps stop at the end of the alley. Move on, move on! he urged silently.

He heard the footsteps begin again, and was almost relieved before he noticed they came towards him, them, their hiding spot.

He clenched his fists and prayed.