“You found a car,” the boy said when he pulled up.

“I forgot about this one.”

The boy got his bike into the back, then climbed in the front.

“Whose is this?”

“I don’t know. Are you able to direct me?”

“Sure.”

They drove back past the airfield.

“Those guys,” Kane said. “People don’t just beat people up for no reason.”

“Tell them.”

“They do it to other kids?”

“Probably.”

“I might be in trouble now. I could do with knowing what I’ve got myself involved in.”

“I don’t think you’re involved.”

“The one I spoke to sounded British, right?”

“I guess so. Spoke to.” The boy laughed. “How do you do that?” He turned, smiling, and Kane saw his front teeth chipped and bloodstained.

“Look, when you tell people what happened, you don’t need to tell them about my involvement. Okay? Just say you got away from them.”

“Sure.”

Back past the rippling sea of birds. The moon was high. Kane could see the terns spread across the lava flows between the airfield and the coast, black heads and white breasts, all facing into the wind, insomniac chatter echoing off the rocks. The boy stared ahead, testing his teeth with his tongue, sometimes emitting a soft groan. Near the airport, the signs changed to US specifications: “Dangerous Bends,” “Wear Seatbelts.” Some ancient construction equipment had been abandoned at the side of the road, a roller with patterns of rust like leopard skin. They arrived at the gate for the base. American and British flags hung from adjacent poles. A sign planted in the lava announced U.S. AIR FORCE. ASCENSION AUXILIARY AIR FIELD. In the distance, long barrack buildings spread out. Solar panels glinted among the cacti.

“Okay,” Kane said, as the boy climbed out. “Take care of yourself. Get your injuries checked out properly as soon as you can. I’ll see you around.”

A guard got up from a seat inside the security hut. He shined a torch in the boy’s face, then at the car. Kane began to reverse away.

“Hey. Sir?”

Kane turned and kept driving. Fuck that. He’d had enough introductions for one night.

When he’d returned the car and got back to the bungalow, the door was open a crack. Maybe it didn’t lock; maybe he’d left it open. Kane checked the individual rooms until he was sure there was no one inside, then tested the lock to see if the door could swing open by itself. It seemed unlikely. But the lock wasn’t secure, the wood of the frame having grown brittle.