It was Lansdale. They followed him as he kept moving along trails. He was heading for the rear gate where Kanani and Wendell first arrived in the disguised jalopy pickup. The gate was now fenced, barbwired, and guarded. A DeSoto convertible waited for Lansdale there, complete with driver. He was taking Selfer’s personal car. One of the gate lights illuminated him, revealing the briefcases and bags he was clutching tighter than his holstered gun.

“He never left,” Kanani muttered. “That or he came back for more.”

“Well, he’s leaving now. Unless I can help it.” Jock crept forward, drawing his combat knife with its jagged edge out.

“No,” Kanani whispered. She crept after Jock, tugged at his web belt. “Don’t . . .”

Jock halted. He pivoted slowly, and his eyes took her in whole as if he’d never seen another human being in all of his existence. She shuddered.

“Please, Jock,” she said.

He blew air out his nostrils and slumped, making his knife disappear.

They watched Lansdale go. One bag hung low and he dragged it along. Kanani knew what was inside that one. With her heightened alertness, she thought she’d heard keys jangling on him and wondered if he’d paid one last visit to Wendell Lett. Maybe she should go take out Lansdale herself, jam her revolver right down his sneering mouth.

Jock was eyeing her in a new way. “We need to let him go,” she said, reminding herself.

Jock led from here, back onto trails. Flowery bushes and spiky shrubs began to thicken and swell among the wild palms and vine-tangled trees. They had reached the edge of the more tropical reaches of the forest—and that tight little gully where Kanani had first spotted Frankie here.

They peered down into the gully. Kanani nodded at Jock. He was going to lead them into the tunnel system using the special entrance that normal staff didn’t know about—it was also Frankie’s and Selfer’s route inside. A narrow road ran down, bordered by a skinny side path cut out of the lava rock. They took the path, slippery from the rain, grasping at the rock wall as leaves and flowers and veins grazed their cheeks. Halfway down the growth thickened, giving good cover. They crawled up under a bush for shelter from the rain and surveyed the end of the gully, where all that remained was the black hole of a lava tube.

Kanani shook the water off her hat. Jock pressed fingers into her arm with one hand, one finger to his lips with the other.

Someone was approaching. They crouched lower.

Frankie was striding down the road, wearing holster and knife, speed increasing. He disappeared inside the lava tube.

“He took longer than we reckoned,” Jock whispered.

“Good. That’ll make Selfer sweat all the more inside there.”

“Let’s give it five minutes.”