Aaron had his hands in his pockets too, and his hat on, and his jacket zippered up under his chin, but that made as much difference as an umbrella in a tempest. As they passed a shadowed alley, Aaron came to a complete dead stop, seizing up in a way that Shiloh would find disturbingly familiar. Breaking out of it in a shorter time than before, however--one one thousand, two one thousand, three--Aaron rotated on the spot to face the alleyway and stare into it with wide, frightened eyes.