Wayward Pines Audiobook Novels & Stories

It wasn’t just snowing—it was snowing, as if the sky itself had decided to bury the land under layers of thick, unrelenting white. We drove away from the airport, the tires crunching through the snow, heading deeper into the wilds of Alaska. As we moved farther from the town, I noticed how the landscape grew even more desolate. The trees were sparse, leafless and skeletal, their branches clawing at the sky. The forest was thick, but there was a barrenness to it that made me feel small and insignificant. The wilderness here didn’t welcome you—it seemed to watch you, cold and indifferent, as though waiting for you to leave.

"Carlee Hood, who do you think Dominic would save if we both crashed? My bet's on me!" The moment five steel bars speared through my body, Paige Ryan, sitting in the passenger seat, calmly pulled her hands back from the steering wheel she had just yanked. She sneered, "Make sure you hang on a little longer, alright? Dying too fast would be such a bore." The rain had been relentless lately, leaving the roads flooded and treacherous.

The air hung heavy with the scent of pine needles and damp earth, a familiar aroma that always clung to the woods behind their house. "Tyra, honey!" The sound of Dad's voice, usually robust and full of laughter, was strained, almost a whisper carried on the wind. I spun around, searching for him amidst the towering trees, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers.

The Whispering Pines Forest was a place where time itself seemed to fray at the edges. Its ancient trees, their bark etched with secrets, stood like sentinels, their gnarled roots clutching at the earth as if desperate to remain anchored. The moon, a pale crescent, barely managed to pierce through the dense canopy, casting elongated shadows on the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, pine needles, and something more primal—a scent that made the hair on the back of Philip’s neck stand on end.

I only had a year to find my answers, no distractions was a good way to start. "Venus, honey, are you ready?" My mom called me from the kitchen, as I opened my bedroom door. "Yes, mom be right there." I called back. Walking towards the kitchen, I was singing Famous Last Words out loud. "I am not afraid to keep on living, I am not afraid to walk this world alone, honey if you stay I'll be forgiven, Nothing you can say can stop me going home. Can you see my eyes are shining bright? Cause I'm out here on the other side of a jet black hotel mirror and I'm so weak..."

Maridelle is his mate. He shifted back with the happy thoughts. After twenty-eight years of waiting, he finally have a luna waiting to be saved. He will come to her. To see and scout the area, he went to the opposite direction. He came from the East side, this time he'll try going West. Dense forest shrouded the area. The wind is getting cold but he is still few kilometers away from the turn he needs to take to return to the forest clearing where they had set their temporary camp.

​I grabbed the Web. ​It felt like grabbing a handful of razor wire. The silver threads sliced into my consciousness, the feedback from the ruined city screaming through my nerves. I gasped, my knees buckling, but Cassian held me upright. ​“Focus on the North, Winnie,” he whispered into my ear, his voice a low, steady rumble. “See the ice. Smell the pines. We are going home.” ​I pictured the Obsidian Tree. I pictured the silver needles and the golden sap. I found the thread that connected this ruined harbor to our mountain, and I pulled.

The drive to the mountains was a descent into a different kind of darkness. As the city lights faded into the rear-view mirror, replaced by the oppressive, towering silhouettes of ancient pines, the air inside the SUV grew cold. Laredo didn’t speak. He drove with a terrifying, rhythmic precision, his large hands steady on the leather-wrapped steering wheel. Every time he shifted gears, his arm would brush against my knee—a deliberate, territorial spark that reminded me I was no longer a guest in his life, but a captive.

“Feel all right this morning? Burnam was up at daylight and rode off to look at the woods. He left word for you and me to go over your tract and report. Had your breakfast? Well, go get it quick.” Joe hurried over the meal, had Snowball brought round, and they rode off, Wilson going with them. The former wagon-trail into the woods was badly choked with fallen timber; they had to make continual detours, and pick their way among the pines. The big turpentine tract lay in a rough rectangle north and south, and the storm, passing right down the middle, had raked it from end to end. The magnificent pines strewed the ground, were broken off at mid-height, stood leaning against one another, ready t

Then she opened the diary and turned to the next page. _____ Episode 53 – Lost in the Woods The GPS had died with a pathetic electronic sigh twenty minutes ago, and Hallie’s knuckles were bone-white on the steering wheel. The narrow, unpaved road, promised as a scenic shortcut through the Blackpine Forest, had devolved into little more than a muddy track swallowed by towering, ancient pines. Twilight was bleeding the last of the color from the sky, casting long, sinister shadows that seemed to reach for her little sedan. A low-hanging branch, unseen in the gloom, scraped against the roof with a sound like fingernails on a chalkboard.