There would be no way to know who lived and who died. This thought brought him to his feet. He was jubilant. This village was two, maybe three hectares total. If he kept running, he would reach the lemon orchards. Soumeya and her family would be there.

If not there exactly, there would be farmers who knew of her father. He would find them.

He was lying asleep behind a juniper outside the village. He looked up. Sellami was standing there. The black SUV was behind him, motor running. Aziz didn’t have time to readjust his expression. His insides hurt and blood thrummed in his head.

“Thank God you’re alive!” Sellami was wearing shorts and a black T-shirt.

“Brother,” Aziz mumbled.

“Are you hurt?”

“No . . . I am well.” But as he got up, he felt pain on his right side. His arms were badly slashed and covered with dirt and leaves.

“There is a doctor. I will take you.” He helped Aziz into the passenger seat.

Sellami pulled away fast and the road turned into cloud. He had his long hair in a ponytail and he didn’t look like himself. Aziz slumped into the front seat, his head light with despair. He had been dumb. He had not noticed he was hurt; he had not thought he would fall asleep. He had told himself he would take only five minutes to rest near the juniper bushes. Everything had depended on running and not stopping. He cursed his weakness and began shivering; Sellami had the windows up and the air-conditioning high. A cell phone rang. Sellami switched something on the dashboard. He had a wire hanging from his ear. A tiny plastic arm reached across his cheek.

“I have him. . . .

“You tell Tahar he has fucked us.”

“Yes, he is hurt. Of course he is hurt. . . .

“He is not dead. . . .

“We wore what they said. . . .

“If Tahar said that, he was wrong. . . .

“No, no, it was Antar who was wearing the barnous. . . .

“And all who had Adidas and leather, they fall on them. . . .

“You have fucked us. . . .

“No one can kill him. . . .

“I am not coming. . . .

“They are in Ben Aknoun. . . .

“You tell Tahar he has fucked us. If he continues to fuck us, he will find himself with problems.”

He leaned over and pushed a button on the dashboard too hard. Its red covering fell off and bounced on the black carpeted floor. Everything was immaculate inside the Expedition. The windshield was glossy.

“Nazzar, listen.”

“Yes,” Aziz said.

“You sound weak.”

“I am fine.”

“What happened last night is: everyone except you, me, and Antar was killed.”

Aziz sat up more.

“And right now I am driving you to Algiers to get you some help. When we get there, this is what we do. We are going to Ramdane Benane’s house.”