“We tried it your way,” Parter said to Boone. “Now let’s do what needs to be done.”

Blood leaked from Boone’s lip. He looked away. Browder crossed the threshold of the kitchen.

A moan of pain rose behind him.

Every man in the trailer froze. Kimbra Lott struggled to rise from the kitchen floor only to collapse again.

Oh Christ, Joel thought. What was she doing?

When Kimbra moaned again, Browder and his knife turned back in her direction.

JAMAL

Like a dream forming and dissolving, familiar objects loomed up out of the darkness of the Flats. KT asked Whiskey to slow the truck so he could look out for way-markers.

Take a right at the rusted stop sign that sat bereft of any road.

Left at the stand of dead brown cactus.

Straight past the burned-out Chevy sedan, a Texas flag bolted over its back window frame. “They’ve moved it since last time,” KT said blandly as the Chevy slipped past them. The other boys, Jamal included, were too anxious to say a word.

Earlier, Jamal had become convinced that KT was leading them nowhere, that he planned to drive them until Whiskey’s truck ran out of gas and then abandon them in the wilderness. Jamal had pulled his phone from his pocket to text Officer Clark, who was following them in her own truck—Jamal had been certain to get her number before heading out—but had discovered he had no service. He’d opened the compass on his phone and felt his throat tighten. He’d watched the compass’s red needle spin wildly, hunting in vain for north.

“He should never have brought me there,” KT said in the front passenger seat. “He should have known I couldn’t handle that place.”

Whiskey tightened his pale knuckles on the wheel and said, “Couldn’t handle what, bro?”

“I heard they had party favors. I heard everyone who went out there got special treatment in town. He kept saying, D kept saying, it ain’t meant for boys like you but I said, shit, I’m open-minded, ain’t I? I like to let loose, don’t I?” KT shuddered. “I didn’t know what that place would do to me. I didn’t know what letting go would do to me.”

T-Bay, seated beside Jamal in the back, twisted and twisted his fingers in his lap.

“I wasn’t made for it, he was right. But shit, maybe only them Old Boys is made for it. Pretty soon I was Mr. Boone’s favorite. In his special trailer. I was the one always had to teach him his lessons. Some nights he wanted the paddle, some nights he wanted the whip, some nights—” KT stared at his right hand for a long time. He said, “Coach is easier, he just sucks you off, but Mr. Boone, he needs his lessons, oh yes, sir. Did you know someone can make you hate yourself even when you’re the one putting their dick in a cage? It’s fucking funny. I’d have never believed it. Go right. I said right.”