A new taheen appeared, this one with thehead of a weasel, and took over for the one called Jakli. He pounded a coupleof running Breakers on the back, actually hurrying them up.

From south of Main Street came a bewilderedshout: “Fence is cut!” And then another: “I think the guards are dead!” Thislatter cry was followed by a howl of horror, and Roland knew as surely as if hehad seen it that some unlucky Breaker had just come upon a severed watchman’shead in the grass.

The terrified babble on the heels of thishadn’t run itself out when Dinky Earnshaw and Ted Brautigan appeared frombetween the bakery and the shoe store, so close to Jake’s hiding place that hecould have reached out the window of his car and touched them. Ted had beenwinged. His right shirtsleeve had turned red from the elbow down, but he wasmoving—with a little help from Dinky, who had an arm around him. Tedturned as the two of them ran through the gauntlet of guards and lookeddirectly at Roland’s hiding place for a moment. Then he and Earnshaw enteredthe alley and were gone.

That made them safe, at least for the timebeing, and that was good. But where was the big bug? Where was Prentiss, theman in charge of this hateful place? Roland wanted him and yon Weasel-headtaheen sai both—cut off the snake’s head and the snake dies. But theycouldn’t afford to wait much longer. The stream of fleeing Breakers was dryingup. The gunslinger didn’t think sai Weasel would wait for the last stragglers;he’d want to keep his precious charges from escaping through the cut fence.He’d know they wouldn’t go far, given the sterile and gloomy countryside allaround, but he’d also know that if there were attackers at the north end of thecompound, there might be rescuers standing by at the—

And there he was, thank the gods andGan—sai Pimli Prentiss, staggering and winded and clearly in a state ofshock, with a loaded docker’s clutch swinging back and forth under his meatyarm. Blood was coming from one nostril and the corner of one eye, as if allthis excitement had caused something to rupture inside of his head. He went tothe Weasel, weaving slightly from side to side—it was this drunken weavethat Roland would later blame in his bitter heart for the final outcome of thatmorning’s work—probably meaning to take command of the operation. Theirshort but fervent embrace, both giving comfort and taking it, told Roland allhe needed to know about the closeness of their relationship.

He leveled his gun on the back ofPrentiss’s head, pulled the trigger, and watched as blood and hair flew. MasterPrentiss’s hands shot out, the fingers spread against the dark sky, and hecollapsed almost at the stunned Weasel’s feet.

As if in response to this, the atomic suncame on, flooding the world with light.

“Hile, you gunslingers, kill them all!”Roland cried, fanning the trigger of his revolver, that ancient murder-machine,with the flat of his right hand. Four had fallen to his fire before the guards,lined up like so many clay ducks in a shooting gallery, had registered thesound of the gunshots, let alone had time to react. “For Gilead, for NewYork, for the Beam, for your fathers! Hear me, hear me! Leave not one of themstanding! KILL THEM ALL!”

And so they did: the gunslinger out ofGilead, the former drug addict out of Brooklyn, the lonely child who had oncebeen known to Mrs. Greta Shaw as ‘Bama. Coming south from behind them, rollingthrough thickening banners of smoke on the SCT (diverting from a straightcourse only once, to swerve around the flattened body of another housekeeper,this one named Tammy), was a fourth: she who had once been instructed in theways of nonviolent protest by young and earnest men from the N-double A-C-P andwho had now embraced, fully and with no regrets, the way of the gun. Susannahpicked off three laggard humie guards and one fleeing taheen. The taheen had arifle slung over one shoulder but never tried for it. Instead he raised hissleek, fur-covered arms—his head was vaguely bearish—and cried forquarter and parole. Mindful of all that had gone on here, not in the least howthe pureed brains of children had been fed to the Beam-killers in order to keepthem operating at top efficiency, Susannah gave him neither, although neitherdid she give him cause to suffer or time to fear his fate.

By the time she rolled down the alleybetween the movie theater and the hair salon, the shooting had stopped. Finliand Jakli were dying; James Cagney was dead with his hume mask torn half-offhis repulsive rat’s head; lying with these were another three dozen, just asdead. The formerly immaculate gutters of Pleasantville ran with their blood.

There were undoubtedly other guards aboutthe compound, but by now they’d be in hiding, positive that they had been setupon by a hundred or more seasoned fighters, land-pirates from God only knewwhere. The majority of Algul Siento’s Breakers were in the grassy area betweenthe rear of Main Street and the south watchtowers, huddled like the sheep theywere. Ted, unmindful of his bleeding arm, had already begun taking attendance.

Then the entire northern contingent of theharrier army appeared at the head of the alley next to the movieshow: oneshor’leg black lady mounted on an ATV. She was steering with one hand andholding the Coyote machine-pistol steady on the handlebars with the other. Shesaw the bodies heaped in the street and nodded with joyless satisfaction.

Eddie came out of the box-office andembraced her.

“Hey, sugarman, hey,” she murmured,fluttering kisses along the side of his neck in a way that made him shiver.Then Jake was there—pale from the killing, but composed—and sheslung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. Her eyes happened onRoland, standing on the sidewalk behind the three he had drawn to Mid-World.His gun dangled beside his left thigh, and could he feel the expression oflonging on his face? Did he even know it was there? She doubted it, and herheart went out to him.

“Come here, Gilead,” she said. “This is a grouphug, and you’re part of the group.”

For a moment she didn’t think he understoodthe invitation, or was pretending not to understand. Then he came, pausing tore-holster his gun and to pick up Oy. He moved in between Jake and Eddie. Oyjumped into Susannah’s lap as though it were the most natural thing in theworld. Then the gunslinger put one arm around Eddie’s waist and the otheraround Jake’s. Susannah reached up (the bumbler scrabbling comically forpurchase on her suddenly tilting lap), put her arms around Roland’s neck, andput a hearty smack on his sunburned forehead. Jake and Eddie laughed. Rolandjoined them, smiling as we do when we have been surprised by happiness.

I’d have you see them like this; I’d haveyou see them very well. Will you? They are clustered around Suzie’s CruisinTrike, embracing in the aftermath of their victory. I’d have you see them thisway not because they have won a great battle—they know better than that,every one of them—but because now they are ka-tet for the last time. Thestory of their fellowship ends here, on this make-believe street and beneaththis artificial sun; the rest of the tale will be short and brutal compared toall that’s gone before. Because when ka-tet breaks, the end always comesquickly.

Say sorry.

Nineteen

Pimli Prentiss watched throughblood-crusted, dying eyes as the younger of the two men broke from the groupembrace and approached Finli o’ Tego. The young man saw that Finli was stillstirring and dropped to one knee beside him. The woman, now dismounted from hermotorized tricycle, and the boy began to check the rest of their victims anddispatch the few who still lived. Even as he lay dying with a bullet in his ownhead, Pimli understood this as mercy rather than cruelty. And when the job wasdone, Pimli supposed they’d meet with the rest of their cowardly, sneakingfriends and search those buildings of the Algul that were not yet on fire,looking for the remaining guards, and no doubt shooting out of hand those theydiscovered. You won’t find many, my yellowback friends, he thought. You’vewiped out two-thirds of my men right here. And how many of the attackershad Master Pimli, Security Chief Finli, and their men taken in return? So faras Pimli knew, not a single one.