“We found nothing. But you interest me. The way you move around this camp, I could swear it’s like you can see.”

Bill chuckled to hide his nervousness. “Maybe you missed it, but your helmet made me blind. I can’t see a damn thing.”

“And yet we’ve had one or two reports of Senseless in other camps having their remaining senses extraordinarily heightened following their treatment. You can understand why that might be of great scientific interest.”

“I don’t see what it has to do with me.”

“I’ve interviewed half a dozen inmates who witnessed your assault on Mister O’Hare. It’s not the first time you’ve been seen acting precisely as if you were still sighted. As if you know exactly what’s going on around you regardless.”

As she spoke, Bill heard a drawer slide open, slowly, as if Hannegan was working hard to keep it as quiet as possible. He heard her feet move around the desk until she stood to one side of him.

Immediately he knew there was a gun to his head. He could picture its barrel hovering just an inch from his right ear.

“I have something in my hand, Mister Sharpe,” said Hannegan. There was a slight edge of strain in her voice, no doubt, he thought, from holding the heavy weapon level with his skull. “Can you tell me what it is?”

Bill willed himself not to move, but thinking was far easier than doing. He couldn’t ignore the thrill of alarm surging up his spine, or the shortness of his breath.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice tight.

“I don’t believe you.”

He knew, just a moment before she did it, that she was going to shoot him. Instinct took over: he jerked away just as she squeezed the trigger, tumbling off his chair and onto the floor.

The breath rattled out of his throat in quick spasms. The gun had made a clicking sound and nothing more. “You tricked me.”

“You’ve been tricking the idiots running this camp for a lot longer,” said Hannegan. Her voice was colder now. “Go back to your hut and stay there until tomorrow morning.”

And then? he nearly asked, but he already knew the answer. Then they’d put him in the one small motorboat the camp authorities kept fuelled by the dockside and send him back to the mainland, to have his brain picked apart.

But he’d be long gone by then - and not a moment too soon.

They let him out on his own, without even a guard to guide him back to his hut. It felt like Hannegan was laughing at him.

“Jesus,” said Ade when he walked back in, “what the hell happened? You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I need to talk to you,” said Bill, ignoring Owen and Reilly. “Alone.”

He led Ade back out into the chill evening air. He could easily imagine Reilly’s puzzled stare as they closed the door behind them.

“She’s onto me,” said Bill. “She pulled a gun on me without any warning or sound and I flinched away from it before she pulled the trigger. It wasn’t even loaded.”

“Jesus…”

“I have an idea. We’ve got no choice but to take Reilly with us. If we don’t and he realises we’re gone, he might alert Hannegan before we can get to that trawler. But we won’t tell him what we’re doing until the moment we do it. If he tries to betray us or stop us, we’ll… do whatever we have to. But if I’m somehow wrong about him, we can still all get away.”

Ade swallowed hard. “So the plan’s otherwise the same?”

Bill nodded. “A launch will be waiting to take us to the trawler from the beach on the far side of the village, but it’s too risky for them to hang around more than a minute or two. If we’re not there at the exact scheduled time, they’ll leave without us.”

“I just can’t believe Reilly would inform on us,” said Ade. “It goes against everything I know about him.”

“Goddamn it, he lied to us about his family!” Bill hissed. “I smelled the same damn soap on his skin that Hannegan uses. The son of a bitch has been getting preferential treatment. Do you understand? It’s him or us.”

He heard Ade swallow. “Sure. I understand.”

Bill didn’t sleep that night. From the sound of their breathing, neither did any of the others - all except Reilly, who still had Owen’s bed. When the time came, Bill rolled out of his bunk and pushed Owen awake. He grumbled and sat up.

Bill held up five fingers. “Five minutes,” he mouthed, then did the same for Ade.

“What’s going on?” asked Reilly, when Bill pushed him awake.

Bill pressed a hand over Reilly’s mouth, then put a finger to his lips.

“What’s happening?” Reilly demanded, too loudly. “What are you doing?”

Bill shook his head, then ignored him, waiting while Owen laced up his boots before doing the same for Ade. Then he helped Bill lever up the two long floorboards.

“You’re escaping?” asked Reilly.

“I’ll go first,” Bill said, tapping his own chest, then pointing to the gap in the floor for Reilly’s benefit. “Then you,” he pointed at Reilly, and then at Owen and Ade, “then the others.”

Bill slid down through the narrow gap before Reilly could say anything more. His knees pressed into damp soil and he squirmed beneath the floorboards towards the gorse bush. A body pushed through the gap behind him, and he heard Reilly cursing and muttering as he flailed around in the dark.

Bill crawled under the gap in the fence. Reilly came next, standing up and staring around. Ade followed, half-dragged by Owen.

Bill took Ade’s other arm. It was always going to be slow going; Owen and Reilly at least could walk, but they’d have to carry Ade most of the way.

“This way,” said Bill, pointing in the direction of the village.

Reilly grabbed Bill’s free arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bill shook him free, then tapped at his arm as if he were wearing a watch and mouthed the words no time at him.

“Of course there was time!” Reilly’s speech was becoming more slurred; he’d been relying on the memory of what his voice sounded like in order to speak, and that memory was fading. “You didn’t trust me.”

Bill shook his head. There was nothing more he could say.

They reached the village. Bill felt the water lapping around his feet as they navigated a street. He could sense Reilly’s amazement at the way he moved as easily as a sighted person.

Then they turned a corner, and then another, and Bill suddenly realised Reilly had slipped away. He heard the man’s retreating footsteps as he hurried back in the direction of the camp.

“Reilly,” said Ade, his voice urgent. “He’s-”

“I know.” The words felt heavy in Bill’s mouth. He sniffed the air, cold and sharp in his nostrils. “Keep going,” he told Ade. “Make sure you and Owen get to the rendezvous.”

“But what about you?”

“Just get there,” he snapped. “If he alerts the camp authorities, it won’t just be our skins - it’ll be everyone on that trawler as well.”