“What should I tell him if he comes back?”

He remembered then. Somebody had to go down to the station to secure it, from whatever it was that might be happening there.

“Galen,” he said.

“Galen? What about him?”

But her question touched him only vaguely. His eyes had closed again, the image of Gloria’s face shifting before him, resolving, replaced by another: the face of a girl, so small. Her eyes. Something about her eyes.

“What about Galen, Sanjay?”

“It would be good for him, don’t you think?” he heard a voice saying, for one part of him was still there in the room while the other part, the dreaming part, was not. “Tell him to send Galen.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

THIRTY-TWO

The hours passed and night came on.

They’d heard no word yet from Michael. After the three of them had slipped out the back of the Infirmary, the group had separated: Michael to the Lighthouse, Alicia and Peter to the trailer park, to watch over Caleb from one of the empty hulks, in case Sam and Milo returned. Sara was still inside with the girl. For the time being, the only thing to do was wait.

The trailer where they hid was two rows away from the lockup, far enough that they could go undetected but still with a view of the door. It was said the trailers had been left by the Builders, who had used them to house the workers who had built the walls and lights; as far as Peter knew, no one else had ever lived there. Most of the paneling had been stripped away to get at the pipes and wires, and all the fixtures and appliances had been taken out, chopped up and dispersed. There was a space in the back where a mattress had sat on a platform, separated by a flexible, sliding door on a track, and a couple of sleeping cubbies tucked into the walls; a tiny table was situated at the other end with a pair of benches facing each other. These were covered in cracked vinyl, the gaps in the fabric disgorging a brittle foam that crumbled to dust when you touched it.

Alicia had brought a deck of cards to pass the time. Between hands of go-to, she would shift restlessly on the bench, glancing out the window toward the lockup. Dale and Sunny were gone, replaced by Gar Phillips and Hollis Wilson, who evidently had decided not to stand down after all. Sometime in the late afternoon, Kip Darrell had appeared, bearing a tray of food. Otherwise they’d seen no one.

Peter dealt a fresh hand. Alicia turned away from the window, took her cards from off the table, and looked at them quickly, frowning.

“Flyers. Why’d you give me such junk?”

She sorted her cards while Peter did the same, and led with a red jack. Peter matched the suit and countered with the eight of spades.

“Go to.”