The Last Town

“What are you saying?”

“It’s already evening. It’ll be dark long before we’re ready to go. We’ll head into town at first light.”

“Tomorrow?”

“We aren’t equipped to do battle at night.”

“You think the unarmed people in that valley are? You think my wife and son—”

“We’d be slaughtered in the dark, and you know it. All that would happen is we’d lose the only chance we have of saving those people.”

“Goddammit!”

“You think I don’t want to scream into town right now, guns blazing?”

Ethan moved toward the tu

“Where do you think you’re going?” Alan called after him.

“To find my family.”

“You go out there at night, the only thing that’s going to happen is you’ll get eaten. There’s hundreds of those things out there.”

Two steps into the tu

“I can only imagine how you feel,” Alan said. “If it were my family out there, you wouldn’t be able to hold me back. But you’re smarter than I am, Ethan. And certainly you understand that your death tonight on some suicide mission isn’t going to save your family or anyone else’s.”

Damn.

He was right.

Ethan turned, blew out a hard, frustrated sigh.

He said, “So the residents of Wayward Pines get to spend another night in the dark, in the cold, with no food, no water, sharing that valley with a swarm of abbies.”

Alan came toward him.

Ethan could hear, far down the tu

Alan said, “Hopefully, those who survived the initial invasion have found safe places to hole up. Where’s your family?”

“I left them in a cave, behind a locked door, halfway up a mountain.”

“So they’re safe then.”

“I have no way of knowing that. There’s a group in the school,” Ethan said. “Down in the basement. Eighty, ninety people. What if we just—”

“Too. Risky. And you know it.”

Ethan nodded. “What about the gate in the fence? Is it still wide open? Another thousand or thirty thousand abbies could just stroll right into our valley if they wanted?”

“I had the lead technician look into that. He says we can’t turn on the fence from inside the superstructure.”

“Why?”

“Apparently, Pilcher sabotaged the internal system. Only way to power the fence back up and close the gate is through the manual override.”

“And let me guess . . .”

“It’s at the fence. Wouldn’t be fun if it were easy, right?”

“I say we send someone,” Ethan said. “Right now.”

“There’s a secret exit on the south side of the mountain. It’s only a quarter mile from there to the fence.”

“Send that technician and a couple of guards.”

“Okay. But while I do that . . .” Alan glanced over his shoulder at the crowd of people who had wandered into the ark. “They don’t know anything. They just heard gunshots and came down here to see what’s going on.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Ethan said.

He started toward the crowd.

Alan called after him, “Be gentle!”

“Why should I?”

“Because this is the only life they know, and you’re getting ready to blow it all to pieces.”

THERESA

She jerked awake, her eyes opening to total darkness.

Ben was stirring, mumbling, “No, no, no,” in his sleep.

She shook him awake and whispered, “You’re okay, buddy. Mama’s got you.”

It had been years since she’d uttered words like those to her son. Not since she’d been a young mother, rocking her baby boy to sleep, the window cracked in his nursery and the two of them lulled by the whisper of soft Seattle rain.

“What’s happening?” Ben asked.

“We’re still in the jail cell, but we’re okay.”

“Where are the monsters?”

It was u

“I think they’re gone for now.”

“I’m really thirsty.”

“I know, buddy. Me too.”

“Isn’t there a water cooler behind the front desk?”

“I think so.”

“Maybe we could sneak out there, try to get—”

“Oh, I don’t think that’d be such a hot idea, Benjamin,” said a woman in the darkness on the other side of the bars.

Theresa recoiled. “Who’s there?”

“Don’t you recognize my voice, honey? How could you not? You’ve been spilling your guts to me every fourth Thursday of the month for the last—”

“Pam? Oh my God, what are you—”

“I heard you two screaming a few hours ago, saw those abbies chase you into the sheriff’s station. I waited until they left. I’m so relieved to find you both intact. You have no idea. That was quick thinking, Theresa, locking yourself in here.”

Theresa had expected some level of sight to return, but she still couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.

Pam said, “I’m not quite clear on what happened here last night. Did your husband show an abby to the town?”

“He told them everything. About the abbies. The surveillance. That it’s two thousand years in the future. That we’re all that’s left.”

“So he really did it. That motherfucker. Hey, don’t look at me like that.”

Theresa felt a cold knot ratcheting down in the small of her back.

“It’s pitch black in here,” Theresa said.

“Yes. It is. But I can see you holding Benjamin in your arms and glaring into the dark in the general vicinity of where I’m sitting, and I don’t appreciate—”

“How?”

“They’re called night-vision goggles, Theresa, and this isn’t the first time I’ve watched you through them.”

“What’s she talking about, Mom?”

“Ben, don’t—”

“Benjamin, I’m talking about the time I caught your mother and father sneaking out of your home on Sixth Street, after dark. That’s strictly forbidden, you know.”

“Don’t speak like that to my son—”

“Don’t speak like that to the woman who’s pointing a twelve gauge at you.”

For a moment, it was absolutely silent, Theresa trying to piece together the image—Pam sitting in front of their cell wearing night-vision goggles and aiming a shotgun at her and Ben in the dark.

“You’re pointing a weapon at my son?” Theresa tried to ask it coolly, but her voice quivered, betraying the rage and the fear metastasizing inside of her.

“I’m going to shoot him too.”

All the strength left her.

Theresa climbed onto her knees and tried to shield Ben with her body.

“Oh please,” Pam said. “All I have to do . . .” She moved. Her voice moved. “Is stand up and walk over to this side of the cell. Then I have a clear shot again.”

“Why are you doing this? You’re my shrink.”

“I was never your shrink.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s truly a shame, Theresa. I liked you. I enjoyed our sessions together. I want you to know that what’s getting ready to happen to you and your son isn’t personal. You just have the misfortune of being married to the man who destroyed this town.”

“Ethan didn’t destroy anything. He just told everyone the truth.”

“That wasn’t his place. The truth can be a dangerous thing for the weak-minded.”

“You knew, didn’t you?” Theresa asked. “All this time you knew.”

“What? The truth about Wayward Pines? Of course I knew. I helped build this town, Theresa. I was here from the begi

“Ethan didn’t open the gate. He didn’t turn off the fence and let all these monsters inside. Your boss did that.”

“My boss, David Pilcher, created this town. Every house. Every road. He handpicked each resident. Each team member. Without him, you’d have been dead for centuries. How dare you question the man who gave you this life.”

“Pam, please. My son isn’t responsible for any of this. You know that.”

“You don’t understand, honey. This isn’t about holding you and Ben responsible for Ethan’s actions. We’re way past that.”