Noon came on bright, hot, still, and horribly humid. They'd reached the sea on Jatay's far side; the ocean breeze had gone dead, and fluffy white clouds hovered on the horizon, teasing rain perhaps later.

The birds came to investigate Hawk while Teige chatted up the lady running the hot dog stand on the otherwise empty boardwalk. There were shaggy crows and vacant-looking seagulls, along with some polite sparrows and one lone pigeon that sat in Hawk's palm and looked rather shell-shocked; they all clambered over and around him, throwing up a huge racket. At least, though, their wings generated some wind.

The radio whined gently in the background, mumbling daytime talk radio about some new law about to be passed probably. Hawk wasn't really listening.

His whole face tingled. The boardwalk ended not too far from him, giving way instead to a sandy makeshift road that normally led down onto the beach (but today was bolted shut) and beyond that a sorry little parking lot of trampled grass.

A police car was sitting in front of the beach gate. He could see into it without any trouble; he picked out two officers. The driver was speaking into the radio, and had her window down, seeming to side-eye him over her glasses.

The other officer was staring straight at him, although with his eyes shaded by glasses as well Hawk couldn't read anything but a glare on his face. Hawk felt a deep twinge of unease rise up to accompany his now buzzing skull.