Wool (63 page)

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Authors: Hugh Howey

BOOK: Wool
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Q
: What’s next?

A
: I have a Molly Fyde book (the fifth in the saga) that’s almost complete. And I also have a brand new series I’m working on. I haven’t spilled the beans on this yet (you loyal readers get to hear the juicy gossip first), but it’s going to be called SAND LAND. It’s the story of two brothers who live in that narrow and inhospitable strip of land between the Sand Mountains and the constant warring in No Man’s Land. It is a truly dreadful place to live. Silo 17 would be their Shangri-La. Anyone who’s ever tried to leave Sand Land has either perished or never been heard from again.

That is, until a young girl comes
back
from that elsewhere with stories from the other side …

 

Q
: How can I keep up with your writing?

A
: That’s an awfully convenient question! Thanks for asking.

You can follow me on Twitter: @hughhowey

You can visit my website regularly:
www.hughhowey.com

And you can email me:
[email protected]

 

Q
: Tell the truth: Did you come up with all these questions yourself?

A
: Yes.

Meanwhile, in silo 17 …
Epilogue

• Silo 17 •

 

“Thirty-two!”

Elise danced up the steps of the down deep, her breath trailing in long curls of steam behind her, the clumsy feet of youth making a racket with their heavy boots on the wet steel.

“Thirty-two steps, Mr. Solo!”

She made it back up to the landing, tripped over the last step, and caught herself on her hands and knees. Elise stayed there a minute, head down, probably deciding if she would cry or be okay.

Solo waited for her to cry.

Instead, she looked up at him, a wide smile telling him she was fine. There was a gap in that smile where a loose tooth had come out and not yet been replaced.

“It’s going
down,
” she said. She wiped her hands on her new overalls and ran over to him. “The water’s going down!”

Solo grunted as she threw herself into his hip and hugged his waist. He draped an arm across her back while she squeezed him.

“Everything’s gonna be great!”

Solo held the railing with one hand and looked down past the rust-colored stain of old blood beneath his feet, looked past that memory and into the receding waters far below. He reached for the radio on his hip. Juliette would be the most excited to know.

“I think you’re right,” he told little Elise, pulling his radio free. “I think everything’s gonna be just fine …

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