(…) Zeke, the Goth who’d fought with Grange, strode into the room. Jake heard a flurry of whispers and saw Grange turn around. Jake straightened and touched the kid’s shoulder, as if to protect him if this went bad. But Zeke’s eyes met Grange’s, and he stiffened like a cowboy staring down his enemy, as if deciding which one would leave town before sundown.