Wayward Pines: The Widow Lindley (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Wilson F. Paul

Author:Wilson, F. Paul [Wilson, F. Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-10-29T04:00:00+00:00

“What couldn’t you tell me over the phone?” Ethan said as he stormed into Pilcher’s office, his second time here in six hours.

The call had come at five-thirty a.m. Pam, dressed in running tights and a parka, had been waiting outside in a Jeep. She took him straight into the mountain where she led him to Pilcher’s apartment.

From behind his desk Pilcher pointed to the bank of two hundred plus monitors on the wall. “Because you need to see this firsthand.”

“A runner?”

“Karla Lindley.”

He hadn’t expected that.

“But she’s in the hospital.”

“That’s what we thought.”

Pam said. “She was a basket case when I last saw her. Totally unresponsive.”

Pilcher gave her an annoyed look. “And that’s why we didn’t have anyone on duty outside her room all night.”

“She was practically catatonic.”

Ethan couldn’t help enjoying Pam’s defensiveness. She was very possibly the most perfectly sociopathic personality he’d ever met.

Pilcher pointed a remote. “We’ll start with the hospital room.”

A screen in the lower-left corner of the bank flickered to the interior of a semi-dark room. The images fast forwarded double-time through Karla pulling her clothes from the closet, stripping off the hospital gown, and getting dressed.

Pam smirked as Karla stuffed her underwear back in the bag. “She’s going commando. Not a bad bod for someone who doesn’t exercise.”

Ethan agreed but said nothing. He knew that if Pam followed any religion, it was the god and goddess of aerobics and weight training.

They watched her climb out the window. The angle shifted to the outside where they observed her dropping from the window to make a soft, graceful, double-foot landing on the roof below. Another angle showed her repeating the process to the ground.

“She moves like a gymnast,” Ethan said, unable to keep the admiration from his tone.

Pilcher nodded. “So we’ve noticed.”

“But there’s nothing in her file about any involvement in gymnastics,” Pam said. “Ever.”

“Video-wise, we lose her after that,” Pilcher said, “but we can track her path.”

Weather had eroded the town’s outdoor video cams over the years, so visual coverage had become spotty in places. But the indoor cams remained fully functional, and the tracking chip implanted in every left thigh allowed Pilcher to know the whereabouts of every single resident at any moment.

The screen lit with an aerial view of Wayward Pines that showed a red line tracing a winding trail behind the downtown stores.

“There’s no clear path there,” Pam said. “Which means she’s hopping fences left and right.”

“Are we talking some parkour action here?” Ethan said.

Pam simply shrugged. If she thought so, she wasn’t saying so.

“Where’s she going?” Ethan asked.

“Here.” Pilcher stabbed his remote toward the bank and punched a button.

A screen lit with the interior of a store Ethan new well.

“Main Hardware?”

They watched her grab a short-handle shovel, half a dozen knives, a hatchet, butane lighters, a couple of fistfuls of protein bars, two six-packs of water, and beef jerky, shoving them all into a duffel bag.

“What the hell?”

Pam’s smile had a nasty twist. “If you like this one, you’ll love the next.”

The

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