Stanley looked back at him, unsure what he meant. ‘If you want to run away, go ahead, start running. I’m not going to stop you.’ Stanley didn’t know what kind of game Mr Sir was playing. ‘I see you’re looking at my gun. Don’t worry. I’m not going to shoot you.’ He tapped his holster. ‘This is for yellow-spotted lizards. I wouldn’t waste a bullet on you.’ ‘I’m not going to run away,’ Stanley said. ‘Good thinking,’ said Mr Sir. ‘Nobody runs away from here. We don’t need a fence. Know why? Because we’ve got the only water for a hundred miles. You want to run away? You’ll be buzzard food in three days.’ Stanley could see some kids dressed in orange and carrying shovels dragging themselves toward the tents. ‘You thirsty?’ asked Mr Sir. ‘Yes, Mr Sir,’ Stanley said gratefully. ‘Well, you better get used to it. You’re going to be thirsty for the next eighteen months.’