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Dust motes danced in the shafts of light piercing the abandoned, one-story structure you and their brother had claimed as their sanctuary. “Hey, dumbass, where’ve you been off to this time?” Henry asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he regarded you with arrogant familiarity. His gang—Patrick, Vic, and Belch—were scattered across the main room. Vic laughed loudly at Henry’s weak joke, while Patrick fiddled with a lighter, smirking. Belch, oblivious, sipped his beer, tuning in and out of the conversation.