Tears were running down her face and her eyes were shut tight and Ethan kept saying her name, kept saying that everything would be okay, but she couldn’t stop crying and she wouldn’t let him go.

ETHAN

ETHAN

As he held Kate, he glimpsed a man walking down Tenth Street in a long, black duster that fell to his ankles, his face hidden under a black cowboy hat and a long, unkempt beard.

Ethan said, “Who the hell is that?”

Kate turned her head. “I’ve never seen him before.”

Ethan started across the schoolyard, scaled the fence, and moved out into the middle of the street.

The man in black carried a Winchester rifle, which rested against his shoulder, and his shuffling gait scraped his boots across the pavement. He stopped several feet away from Ethan—a haggard, vile-smelling specimen. He would’ve looked like a homeless eccentric were it not for his eyes. No insanity there. Just clear, lucid intensity.

The man said, “Well goddamn, Ethan.”

“I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

Ethan just glimpsed the man’s smile through the shambles of his beard.

“Do we know each other?” the man laughed, his voice scratchy, like his larynx had been wrapped in sandpaper. “I’ll give you a hint. Last time we spoke, I sent you here.”

Recognition fired in Ethan’s brain.

Synapses connecting the dots.

He cocked his head and said, “Adam?”

“So what I hear, you started this mess.”

“You’ve been in town all this time?”

“No, no. I just got back.”

“Back from where?”

“Out there. Beyond.”

“You’re a nomad?”

“I’ve been gone three and a half years. Came back through the fence yesterday at dawn.”

“Adam—”

“I know you have questions, but if you’re looking for your family, I found them last night.”

“Where?”

“Theresa had locked herself and Ben into the jail cell in the sheriff’s station.”

“They’re there right now?”

“Yes, and—”

Ethan took off running up Tenth Street, maintained a full sprint for six blocks until he rushed into the sheriff’s station, gasping for breath.

“Theresa!” he shouted.

“Ethan?”

He shot down the hallway toward the cell at the north end of the building, and when he saw his wife and son alive behind the bars, his eyes filled with tears.

Theresa fumbled with the key, turned the lock.

Ethan pushed the door open and embraced her, kissing her face, her hands, like it was the first time he’d ever touched her.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he said.

“You almost did.”

Ben nearly tackled him.

“You okay, buddy?”

“Yeah, Dad, but we almost died.”

Gunshots started up again, several blocks away.

“You brought the cavalry,” Theresa said.

“I did.”

“Have you rescued a lot of people?”