Kitty’s job, as she sees it, is to know the lay of the land, to learn as much as she can. Her main job for now is not to get caught.

Following the strains of distant music, she finds a trail behind the shed that follows the shore of the lake to a small cabin ten minutes’ walk from the lodge. Tank is there, sitting in a screened-in porch with his feet up, drinking a beer, listening to heavy metal on a boom box, and staring out at the water.

She makes her way back along the trail mostly by feel, through the last of the daylight. He won’t be foolish enough to take such a narrow and uneven trail without a flashlight, she suspects, but she decides to make his journey difficult and as memorable as possible, littering the trail with bits of off-cut lumber she finds behind the shed. Some of the wood has nails in it.

She has already pocketed the key to the ATV, which Tank left in the ignition. It’s a Kawasaki; she has driven one of these things before, but she familiarizes herself with the model, sitting astride it, feeling where everything is. She practices inserting the key into the ignition in the dark.

It has occurred to her that they might try to leave. If they have even the slightest suspicion that anyone might follow Brent here, they might decamp. She doesn’t want that. The van is old, but the license plates are up-to-date, so presumably it’s active. So her next job is to make sure the van is disabled. The door is locked, unfortunately, and there are no keys handy. So she finds another piece of wood with a good-size spike in it and lets the air out of all four tires.

This is a big decision. One flat would not arouse suspicion. Four flats means that Blink has a confederate. They might threaten to kill him if she doesn’t give herself up. But if they could fix the flat and take off, then he would be gone anyway.

This is purgatory, all right. And that boy she robbed this morning and then caught up with — he isn’t just a boy. Not anymore. She can’t quite put it into words, but Blink is a gift. A chance for . . . for something — she’s not sure what. But without him, there is nothing.

The sound of the four tires hissing seems incredibly loud up close, but the wind has picked up, as have the waves, so she doubts anyone else can hear it.

The rain comes by the time she finally makes her way to the back of the lodge. She had watched the big man come up behind Blink and nab him. There is no way she is going to allow herself to be trapped in the same way. She has no idea where the other two are right now, though she expects they’re in the lodge. But there is still that fourth man, who could be anywhere. So she waits a long time. The rain comes, and she still waits, curled up as tight as she can in the far corner near the bush. Her eyes close from time to time, only to snap open when she realizes she has drifted off. At one point she falls deeper into sleep — deep enough for half-dreams. She sees herself holding a baby. She wakes with a start, but the baby doesn’t quite dissolve.

The rain picks up. If there is someone on guard anywhere near here, she hopes the rain will drive him inside. No one comes.

She finds her way to the window nearest the bush and peers in. There is just the businessman sitting on a couch, talking on a cell phone, his face lit by firelight. His expression is serious. Then she hears footsteps inside the house and sees the big man enter the room from a staircase, she figures by the sound of it, which is just out of her vision.

He speaks to Niven, who holds up his hand to stop him, while he finishes his call. She cannot make out what is said but watches the businessman close up his laptop and put it away.

Niven places various papers in a briefcase. He seems to be clearing up. The cell rings again, but the big guy, the Moon, takes the call and nods several times. Then he talks to Niven, who nods and then swears. She’s not sure — she can’t actually hear him, but it looks as if he’s swearing. Then he rubs his hands through his hair.

Something is wrong.

Kitty is almost out of the rain, under wide eaves. Now she slides her back down the log wall of the lodge. She didn’t like having her back to the clearing while she was looking through the window. She is afraid. That look on Niven’s face: what did it mean? Have they killed Blink? She can’t believe that — won’t believe that. The Moon came down from upstairs. Maybe Blink is up there somewhere?

She dashes out from under the eaves and tries to see if there is a light on upstairs, forgetting that the windows are all boarded up. There are several gables. The place is huge, which is both bad and good. Bad, because he might be anywhere; good, because she might be able to get into the place and look around undetected, assuming there are only the two of them inside. She looks again through the downstairs window and is shocked to see the Moon’s broad back less than a foot away. She makes an involuntary gasp and is glad that the clattering of the rain will have masked the noise. But she reminds herself to be way more careful.

The width of his back makes her shudder. She doubts he’s fast, but she has witnessed firsthand how stealthily he moves, closing a gap of ten meters without Blink ever being aware of this giant bearing down on him.

She clears the wet hair from her face, wipes the rain out of her eyes, and risks a peek inside, more carefully this time. The Moon has been busy. Busy loading a rifle.