They were laughing hysterically now. As hysterically as you can with your jaw clenched. Again Myron looked at Win, wondering about relying on a couple of well-bred stoners. At the same time, breaking into places—finding a way into even the best guarded of edifices—was one of Win’s strong points. He had a plan. Myron would just follow it.

They drove past two security stations in the middle of the road with nary a wave. The twins and their reefer-reeking vehicle were clearly well-known on the island. No one bothered them. Billings or Blakely—Myron had already forgotten—drove erratically. Myron fastened his seat belt. During the daytime, this island seemed remote. At night, especially in the rain, it felt totally and completely abandoned.

Billings—Myron remembered now—took the car off the pavement and down a dirt road. The road tested the shocks and found them wanting. Myron bounced around the back as the car traveled through thick woods until they hit a clearing. The car came to a stop near the beach.

Blakely turned around again. He offered Myron a hit. Myron waved him off with a no-thanks.

“You sure? It’s premium.”

“Primo,” Billings added.

“Boss.”

“I get it,” Myron said. “It’s really good.”

The twins sat back and for a moment all was silent. “Whenever I’m on the beach,” Billings said, “I pick up one grain of sand.”

“Oh no,” Blakely said. “Here we go again.”

“No, I’m serious here. Think about it. One grain of sand. I pick up one tiny grain of sand and I think of how many grains of sand are on this beach. Then I think about how many of them are on this entire island. Then I start thinking about how many grains of sand there are in this entire world. And I’m, like, whoa.”

Myron looked at Win some more.

“And the kicker—the real kicker—is that our entire planet is smaller than that grain of sand next to all those other grains. Can you even comprehend that? Our solar system is smaller than that grain of sand when you compare it to the rest of the universe.”

Myron said, “How much of this stuff have you smoked today?”

Billings chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get you on your way to Mr. Famous Rock Star.”

“I hate his music,” Blakely added.

“Total crap.”

“Self-indulgent dung.”

“Pretentious caterwauling.”

They stepped out of the car. Myron was about to open the door, but Win put his hand on his knee. “Wait. Let them take the lead. We need to stay hidden.”

“Do you really trust these kids?”

“They serve a purpose. Don’t worry.”