“We’re still in the jail cell, but we’re okay.”
“Where are the monsters?”
It was unnervingly quiet, no sound of movement beyond the bars.
“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?”
“Wow, that’s a great point, Theresa. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Really?”
“No, I’m just kidding. I don’t give a shit.” Pam racked a shell into the tube. “I promise I won’t make you suffer. And honestly? Take a second to look on the bright side. At least you two didn’t die at the hands of an abby. This way, you won’t feel a thing. Well, you’ll probably feel something, but it’ll all be over before you know it.”
“He’s a child!” Theresa cried.
“Oh, would you mind sliding me the key to the cell before—”