This left the matter of weapons. Alicia believed there had to be an armory somewhere—from the beginning she’d maintained that the guns they’d seen were loaded, no matter what Olson said—and she’d done her best to feel out Jude on this question the night before. Jude had stayed close to her all evening—just as Olson had stayed close to Peter—and in the morning he had taken her out in a pickup to show her the rest of the compound. Peter didn’t like it, but any chance to glean more information, and to do so in a way that would go undetected, was one they had to take.

But if there was an armory, Jude had given no hint where it might be. Perhaps Olson was telling the truth, but it wasn’t anything they could risk. And even if he was, the weapons they had brought with them had to be somewhere—by Peter’s count, three rifles, nine blades, at least six magazines of ammunition, and the last of the grenades.

“What about the prison?” Caleb suggested.

Peter had already thought of this. With its fortresslike walls, it seemed the natural place to lock something away. But so far, none of them had been close enough to see how they might get inside. For all intents and purposes, the place seemed abandoned, just as Olson had said.

“I think we should wait till dark and scout it out,” Hollis said. “We can’t know for sure what we’re up against if we don’t.”

Peter turned to Sara. “How long do you think until Michael can travel?”

She frowned doubtfully. “I don’t even know what’s wrong with him. Maybe it really was heatstroke, but I don’t think so.”

She had expressed these misgivings before. Heatstroke serious enough to make him seize, Sara had said, would almost certainly have killed him, because it would have meant the brain had swollen. His protracted state of unconsciousness might follow from that, but now that he was awake, she detected no sign of brain injury at all. His speech and motor coordination were fine; his pupils were normal and reactive. It was as if he had fallen into a profound but otherwise ordinary sleep from which he had simply awakened.

“He’s still pretty weak,” Sara went on. “Some of that is just dehydration. But it could be a couple of days before we can move him, maybe more.”

Alicia sank back on her cot with a groan. “I don’t think I can keep this up that long.”

“What’s the problem?” Peter asked.

“Jude is the problem. I know we’re supposed to play along here, but I’m wondering how far I’m going to have to take this.”

Her meaning was plain. “Do you think you can … I don’t know, hold him off?”