The deputy stepped into his vehicle. He had received a response over the radio, but the words coming from the speaker sounded distant and confused. His earlier threat to take Leo away had disappeared completely. Higgins stared at the group of bikers, then at Sully, as though calculating whether staying would make matters worse.
'You need to make a formal report,' Sully told him. 'About Hank, about the boy, and about what happened here. Your supervisors need to see the whole thing.'
Higgins's face tightened. 'I know my job.'
'Then do it.'
The deputy started the engine, threw the vehicle into gear, and drove away too quickly for the loose gravel. Dust rose behind him as he reached the access road. He had abandoned Hank, but he had left a radio trail and a half-completed call for assistance that would become important later.
Sully watched the white vehicle disappear before turning back to the foster father. 'There are people coming who can take you wherever the law says you need to go. The kid isn't going with you.'
Hank looked from the broken truck to the distant highway. 'You'll pay for this.'
'You'll have plenty of time to tell that story,' Sully answered. 'Start with the part about the bat.'
Hank backed away across the gravel, limping though no one had touched his legs. He reached the access road, hesitated, and continued walking toward the highway. A rider set a bottle of water near a mile marker where he could pick it up. Nobody followed him. After some distance his shape became just another movement in the heat shimmer.
The circle of motorcycles loosened. Riders spoke again, their voices low and ordinary after the confrontation. A few sat on the old curb to drink water. Others moved their bikes out of the entrance so an ambulance or official vehicle could pass if one arrived. With the immediate threat gone, the atmosphere shifted from intimidation toward the practical problem of caring for a frightened boy.
Sully took the silver lighter from his vest and held it out. 'Believe this is yours.'
Leo looked at the skull, then up at the man who had returned with a road full of motorcycles. He took the lighter with a hand that still trembled.
'You came all this way for me?' he asked.
Sully hesitated. 'Not at first. We had other trouble on the road. I was coming back to check on you, though.' He glanced toward the riders. 'When we found you like that, everybody decided staying was more important than anything else on the schedule.'
Leo nodded slowly. The answer made more sense than a fairy tale about two hundred and forty-seven men somehow knowing he needed help at exactly the right minute. Their arrival had been partly chance. What they did after arriving had been a choice.
Martin returned with a bottle of water and a packet of crackers. Leo ate one, then another, careful not to make himself sick. As he swallowed, Sully looked into the open garage where the teenager had been living. The torn blanket, ruined bicycle, and carefully arranged tools were visible from the doorway.
'You can't stay here,' Sully said.
Leo tightened his hand around the lighter. 'I don't have anywhere else.'