“Yup. As if it wasn’t enough that we took up so much of their space, we made parking lots as big as Lake Titicaca to confuse the hell out of ’em. It’s sad but it’s no reason to be scared. Bears don’t wander into folks’ swimming pools because they’re looking to attack us and birds don’t divebomb parking lots because they’re coming for us neither. They’re just confused about where their home is.”

The sheriff unscrewed the Thermos, setting the lid upside down on the dashboard to make a cup, and Peter looked out across the lot towards the supermarket where the cash tills were visible again behind the drifting snow. Perhaps Cooper had the same problem: he just didn’t know where home was. Peter started to fiddle with the car lock, pulling and pushing the plastic stick from its hole, and let the thought that Cooper might just be lost in new surroundings comfort him when the alternative was too much to even contemplate. And even though he didn’t voice his worries, the sheriff sighed, like the matter at hand was already known somehow, and quietly sat round in his seat.

“You’ve seen it, then?” he asked. “You’ve seen the trance.”

Peter clenched his jaw and pushed down on the lock again. Great. They already had a word for it.

“What is it?” he asked after a while.

“Nobody knows, son. But he’s not the only one. It’s happening across town to a number of our Returnees, and although folks are doing their best not to be alarmed when they’ve had no reason to be before now, I’m sure you can understand it’s hard for them not to be. It’s hard for everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes. Everyone.”

Peter nodded and the snow continued to fall. “The government.”

“Yes, Peter. Them too.”

The sheriff poured some coffee into the cup and passed it over. “Here, get some of this down ya. I reckon you’re in more shock than a cowboy’s crotch on rodeo day.”

“He was just standing there, though.”

“I know.”

“He wasn’t hurting anyone.”

“I know, son. But—”

“He wasn’t hurting anyone.”

“No?” said the sheriff. “And yet you ran out here.”

Peter touched his neck, rolling spots of oily blood between his fingertips where Cooper had nicked him. He shoved his hand under his lap and said nothing.