“Do you talk about leaving?”
“No.”
“So you’ve never been to the fence?”
She sipped the foul concoction posing as a martini.
“Once.”
“But you didn’t go to the other side.”
“No, I just wanted to see it. Since we started coming to this cave, we’ve had three people cross to the other side.”
“How?”
She hesitated. “There’s a secret tunnel.”
“And let me guess.”
“What?”
“None of them ever returned.”
“That’s right.” She stepped down off her stool. “Dance with me.”
Ethan took her hand.
They walked across the uneven rock into the throng of slow dancers.
He cupped his hand to her back but kept a respectful distance.
“Harold won’t mind,” Kate said. “He’s not the jealous type.”
Ethan pulled her closer, their bodies almost touching. “How about this?”
“When I said he’s not the jealous type, that wasn’t a dare.”
But she didn’t pull back.
They danced.
He hated how good it felt to touch her again.
“What do all these people think of me being here? They act like they don’t even realize the sheriff is in the house.”
“Oh, they realize. We had discussions about it. I convinced them you could be trusted. That we needed you. I stuck my neck out.”
“You do need me. That’s true.”
“Question is, do we have you?”
“If I say no, will I wind up naked and stabbed to death in the middle of the road?”
He felt Kate’s fingernails dig into his shoulder.
There was fire in her eyes.
“Not me, not any of my people laid a finger on Alyssa. We aren’t revolutionaries, Ethan. We don’t come to this cave to stockpile weapons and plan a coup. We meet here to be in a place where we aren’t watched. To feel like human beings instead of prisoners.”
He guided her away from the music.
“I’ve been wondering something,” he said.
“What?”
“Two things really. First, how did you figure out that you had a microchip in your leg? Second—how did you know that if you removed the microchip, the cameras wouldn’t see you? I don’t know how you could possibly have just guessed that.”
She looked away from him.
Ethan pulled her out of the main cavern and into the colder passageway.
It had been there always—he saw it now. An embedded suspicion. But up until this moment, until he’d actually voiced the question, the simplicity of the truth had eluded him.
He said, “Kate, look at me. Tell me the truth about Alyssa.”
“I did.”
God, he’d forgotten how well he knew this woman, how easily he could see straight through her. He thought of the photograph of Kate and Alyssa behind the bar as he caught something else in her eyes that she could no longer hide—pain, loss.
“She wasn’t only their spy, was she?”
Kate’s eyes filling with tears.
“She was yours too.”
They spilled down her cheeks and she let them go.
She said, “Alyssa reached out to me.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Years? So you know everything. You’ve known all this time.”
“No. She never told us what was beyond the fence. She said it was for our own safety. In fact, she made it clear that leaving would be death, that all of us, her included, were stuck here. I believed her. Most of us did. I never knew where Alyssa came from. Where she lived when she wasn’t in town. How she knew all these things that we didn’t. But she hated how we’re treated. These conditions. She said there were others like her who felt the same way, and she gave her life to help.”
“She was your friend?”
“One of my best.”
“So the bell pepper, the secret notes, Alyssa’s investigation…”
“All for show. They made her investigate us. Maybe they were onto her. Suspected what she was doing.”
“Do you know who they are? Did she ever tell you?”
“No.”
In the cavern, the band was playing a new song, something fast.
People were jitterbugging.
Ethan said, “Was Alyssa even here three nights ago?”
“No, there was no meeting. Too risky. But she’d been here plenty of times before. The night she died, I met her in the crypt. We talked about what she was going to do. They were expecting a full report from her. They wanted her to name names, to turn us all in. So examples could be made.”
“What did you and Alyssa decide she should do?”
“Make up an excuse for why she didn’t get to see our group. It was the only option.”
“What time did you and Alyssa part ways? This is very important.”
“As I was walking home, I remember hearing the clock strike two.”
“And where was this exactly?”
“Corner of Eighth and Main.”
“Where’d she go after you left her?”
“I have no idea.”
“No, I mean which direction?”
“Oh. I think she started walking south down the sidewalk.”
“Toward the hospital?”
“Right.”
“And there’s no possible way one of your people killed her? Maybe someone who knew she knew the truth? Who was willing to do anything to get it?”
“Impossible.”
“You’re absolutely certain? Those boys who brought me here tonight had more than a few rough edges. And machetes.”
“Well, they don’t trust you. But they loved Alyssa. Everyone did. Besides, it’s no secret among my people that there’s a tunnel under the fence. Alyssa wasn’t stopping anyone from leaving.”
“Then what does stop them?”
“The people who left and never came back.”
He got that Johnnie Walker Blue after all.
Kate went behind the bar, requisitioned the bottle and two rocks glasses, and carried them to a small table out of the main current of the noise and the motion.
They drank and watched the crowd and listened to the music, Ethan studying the faces, becoming increasingly floored, because no one in this room was someone he would’ve expected to be in this room.
In Wayward Pines, this crowd walked the line like perfect little townies.
Followed the rules, caused nary a ripple.
He would’ve pegged most everyone here as full-on converts to everything that life in Wayward Pines entailed, and yet here they were, freed of their microchips, at least for a few hours, drunk and happy and dancing in a cavern.
After the next song, the band quit playing.
The dynamic in the room changed almost instantly.
People found seats at tables, or sat on the floor against the rock wall.
Ethan leaned over to Kate, whispered, “What’s happening?”
“You’ll see.”
Kate’s husband walked over to their table.
Ethan stood.
“Harold Ballinger,” the man said. “I don’t believe we’ve actually met.”