“Jeeps. Motorbikes. Combing the plain beyond the forest. Can’t get far with those. Looks like guys on foot, though, too.”

“We’re miles ahead,” Kanani said. “Hours.”

“Right now we are.”

“You think they know we’re crazy enough to cross the island?” she said.

“Maybe, maybe not. They’re covering all their bases. Kona Town, the port, probably got so many of their boys snooping around you’d think it was Hotel Street. But then again, we were crazy enough to take out two birds with one stone, weren’t we?”

“It’s Lansdale,” Lett said.

“If it’s him, they’ll head this way,” Kanani said. “It’s only a matter of time.”

***

An immense slab, purplish black in the sun, its plateau as high as their heads, its width at least a couple miles, its length that of a great river. They had come to a massive lava flow formation, more than a century old but looking as if it had only just cooled. No grass, no weeds up there. Jock was up above climbing around, crouching with the binoculars.

It had been a half hour since they’d spotted the helicopter. The adrenaline of freedom had helped Lett tame his aches and pains, but now the fatigue of full flight was setting in. His throat was dry, his hungry stomach a throbbing hollow, his muscles shaky and his nerves prickly.

Jock waved them up.

“This is one of the main lava flows,” Kanani said, sounding proud as if she were guiding tourists. “But this isn’t the worst rock,” she added as they climbed. “You get two kine lava on Big Island—pahoehoe and ’a’a. Pahoehoe flow, that’s your smooth and wavy surface, like this. Ho, but the ’a’a? It’s all broken up. Jagged, loose, rocky piles of hell. No good, bruddah.”

“I thought we already passed that.”

“Oh, no. This flow will have plenty of ’a’a. I can almost see it up ahead.”

Jock led them along. “It’s like a goddamn obstacle course up here,” he panted, “so be careful. Man, do I hate fuggin islands. Just rocks, all of them.”

He had a raw red scrape on his elbow. Kanani made a clicking sound at it.

“Look at it this way,” Lett offered. “No scout bike could traverse this, certainly no jeep, not with this busted-up lava.”

“True,” Jock said. “But that helicopter decides to head this way now with us out in the open? We’re fucked beyond all recognition, I tell you.”