Come out fighting. Trey ordered himself sternly. Don’t go down gently. You’ll have the element of surprise on your side. As soon as you hear someone nearby, jump up and start swinging punches….

And then what? Did he really think he could prevail? Maybe he could surprise one of the uniformed men. Temporarily. But two? Three? Fifty?

A board creaked nearby. The first step of the stairs up to the porch had creaked just like that when Trey was walking to the door. His heart began pounding so hard he thought the sound itself would give him away. He held his breath as another board creaked, and then another. Closer, closer…

Trey had his head down, practically tucked between his knees. But the suspense was too much to bear. Trey, the biggest coward in the world, decided it was better to know what was about to happen. Silently, slowly, he tilted his head back.

A uniformed man — no, really just a boy, barely older than Trey himself — stood there silently looking down at him. Trey’s eyes suddenly seemed to work like a camera, registering every detail of the boy’s face in a single glance. The boy had freckles across his nose, and that detail alone seemed so out of place that Trey could do nothing but stare.

“Liber?” the boy said, oddly.

Wait a minute. Was he actually speaking Latin?

“Free?” Trey translated incredulously.

The boy rewarded him with such a small nod that Trey wondered if he’d imagined it. Because then the boy raised his walkie-talkie to his mouth and pressed the button on the side.

That’s it, Trey thought, disappointment swelling through him. Why didn’t I fight when I had the chance? Why didn’t I run?

He probably still had a few seconds before the boy summoned the other uniformed men and they came swarming around the porch. But Trey couldn’t move. He could just imagine where running or fighting would lead. He could hear the gunfire that was bound to come, could see the hands that would undoubtedly grab him, maybe pummel him — maybe beat him to death….