“Do I really belong here?” He leaned back on his hands, staring up at the dark sky as he pondered the question. Is this what I’m meant to do or am I just fooling myself? Do I really have it in me to be…to be like Jonah, Alastair, Mars, and the others? A crusader for justice when everything else has failed. Or will I become like the man I shot tonight and find out I like killing? He shivered, trying to convince himself otherwise by saying it aloud. “Livy said that’s not me. Mars has told me much the same thing. But how do they know? How does anyone know until…until they become that person? Then, they’d have to come after me. Kill me like a rabid dog. No. No! I’m not like him. If I was, I wouldn’t be worrying about this. I’d be looking forward to the next time I can hold a rifle in my hands, aim, and fire.
“Dylan,” Mars said softly from behind him.
“What are you doing up?”