The Last Town
“Had they?”
“Yeah, but you know what? There was a part of me, a bigger part than I want to admit, that was actually sad she had lived. Don’t get me wrong, I miss my husband terribly, but I kept thinking . . .”
“If his wife had been killed, then the two of you . . .”
“Right. So on top of losing my husband, on top of the fact that I can’t be with this man I love, it also turns out I’m a shitty human being.”
Hassler laughed.
“Did you laugh at me?”
“No, I just think it’s cute that you think that’s horrible. Do you want to hear horrible?”
“Hit me.”
“In my life before, I loved a woman, but she was married to this guy who worked for me. I . . . arranged a chain of events so that her husband would be removed from the picture. See, I knew what this town was as it was being created two thousand years ago. I made certain this woman was abducted by David Pilcher, and then I volunteered to go into suspension so I could be with her when she woke up. We lived together in Wayward Pines, and she never knew she was here because of me. After a year, I was sent away on a mission beyond the fence. I was never supposed to return. Every day I was out there, it was the thought of her that kept me going, kept me breathing, putting one foot in front of the other. Against impossible odds, I made it back. I thought I’d be returning to her, to a hero’s welcome. But instead, I find that her husband is here and the town has been destroyed.”
Down in the darkness of the valley, tiny points of firelight had begun to gather on Main Street.
Watching them, Hassler said, “So I climbed up here to take my life. You thought about bad things. I did them. Does that shift things back into perspective?”
“Why are you up here?” she asked.
“I just told you.”
“No, I mean, is it because you can’t live with what you did? Or because you can’t be with her?”
“Because I can’t be with her. Look, I’m not going to stop loving her just because her husband’s around. That’s not the way the human heart works. I can’t just amputate what I feel. It’s not like we live in a big, wide world anymore where I can just move to another city, another state. There’s no alternate life waiting out there for me to get on with. This is it. We’re down to what? Two hundred fifty people? I can’t avoid her, and what I feel for her has defined me for so long now, I don’t know the person I’d be if I tried to walk away from it.”
“I hear that.”
“And the funny thing is, as bad as I am, I don’t have it in me to murder her husband. Is there a fate worse than being halfway evil?”
For a moment, the only sound was the lonely whisper of wind blowing across the rock.
The woman finally said, “I know you, Adam Hassler.”
“How?”
“I used to work for you.”
“Kate?”
“Is life weird, or what?”
“I can leave you alone now if—”
“I’m not judging you, Adam.”
He heard her get up, move toward him.
In a minute, she emerged out of the darkness, still just a shadow, and sat down beside him, their feet hanging off the edge together.
“Are your pants frozen too?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m freezing my ass off. Do you think it means something that you and I both climbed up here to jump on the same night?”
“What do you mean? Like, is the universe saying ‘don’t’? Can’t we agree that the universe doesn’t give a shit anymore, and probably never did?”
Kate looked over at him. “I don’t care if we jump together or climb down together. But whichever it is, let’s just not do it alone.”
PILCHER
Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him down out of the truck. It was the first time he’d been outside in days, but he couldn’t see anything through the black hood over his head.
“What’s happening?” Pilcher asked.
The hood was ripped off.
He saw lights—fifty, sixty, maybe a hundred of them. Flashlights, torches, held by the residents of Wayward Pines, and by his own people from the mountain, all of whom surrounded him in a tight circle of bodies. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the buildings of Main Street looming above him, their facades and storefronts awash in firelight.
Two men stood with him in the circle—Ethan Burke and Alan Spear, his head of security.
Ethan approached.
“What is this?” Pilcher asked. “You throwing a fête for me?”
He looked around at all the faces, hidden in shadow, distorted by firelight. Angry and intense.
“We took a vote,” Ethan said.
“Who voted?”
“Everyone except you. A fête was on the table, but in the end it didn’t feel right, putting you to death using the same self-policing approach you forced upon the citizens of Wayward Pines.” Ethan took a step closer, his breath clouding in the cold. “Look at these people, David. Everyone here lost family, lost friends. Because of you.”
Pilcher smiled against the rage.
The murderous, soul-melting rage.
“Because of me?” he asked. “That’s hysterical.” He stepped away from Ethan, moving out into the middle of the circle. “What else could I have possibly done for you people? I gave you food. I gave you shelter. I gave you purpose. I protected you from the knowledge you couldn’t handle. From the harsh truth of the world that exists beyond the fence. And each of you had to do one thing. One! Goddamn! Thing!” He shrieked the words. “Obey me.”
He caught the stare of a woman standing several feet away, the tears glistening as they ran down her cheeks.
So many tears in this crowd.
So much pain.
And once upon a time, he might have given a shit, but tonight he only saw ingratitude. Entitlement. Rebelliousness.
He screamed, “What more could I have f**king done for you?”
“They’re not going to answer you,” Ethan said.
“Then what is this?”
“They’re here to walk with you.”
“Walk where?”
Ethan turned to the nearest section of the crowd. “Would you all make way please?” As they parted, Ethan said, “After you, David.”
Pilcher stared down the dark street.