He saw a low manBen Alexander, he was quite surechewed beneath the firetrucks huge wheels. He saw another struck by the grille and mashed against the side of Damli House as the engine crashed, spraying boards and glass, then breaking through a bulkhead which had been partially concealed by a bed of sickly flowers. One wheel dropped down into the cellar stairwell and a robot voice began to boom, ACCIDENT! NOTIFY THE STATION! ACCIDENT! No shit, Sherlock, Finli thought, looking at the blood on the grass with a kind of sick wonder. How many of his men and his valuable charges had the goddamned malfunctioning firetruck mowed down? Six? Eight? A motherfucking dozen? From behind Damli House came that terrifying chowchowchow sound once again, the sound of automatic weapons fire. A fat Breaker named Waverly jostled him. Finli snared him before Waverly could fly on by. What happened? Who told you to go south? For Finli, unlike Trampas, wasnt wearing any sort of thinkingcap and the message (GO SOUTH WITH YOUR HANDS UP, YOU WONT BE HURT) was slamming into his head so hard and loud it was nearly impossible to think of anything else. Beside him, Pimlistruggling to gather his witsseized on the beating thought and managed one of his own Thats almost got to be Brautigan, grabbing an idea and amplifying it that way. Who else could? And Gaskie grabbed first Cag and then Jakli and shouted at them to gather up all the armed guards and put them to work flanking the Breakers who were hurrying south on the Mall and the streets that flanked the Mall. They looked at him with blank, starey eyespaniceyesand he could have screamed with balked fury. And here came the next two engines with their sirens whooping. The larger of the pair struck two of the Breakers, bearing them to the ground and running them over. One of these new casualties was Joey Rastosovich. When the engine had passed, beating at the grass with its compressedair vents, Tanya fell on her knees beside her dying husband, raising her hands to the sky. She was screaming at the top of her lungs but Gaskie could barely hear her. Tears of frustration and fear prickled the corners of his eyes. Dirty dogs, he thought. Dirty ambushing dogs! And North of the Algul compound, Susannah broke cover, moving in on the triple run of fence. This wasnt in the plan, but the need to keep shooting, to keep knocking them down, was stronger than ever. She simply couldnt help herself, and Roland would have understood. Besides, the billowing smoke from Damli House had momentarily obscured everything at this end of the compound. Red beams from the lazers stabbed into iton and off, on and off, like some sort of neon sign and Susannah reminded herself not to get in the way of them, not unless she wanted a hole two inches across all the way through her. She used bullets from the Coyote to cut her end of the fenceouter run, middle run, inner runand then vanished into the thickening smoke, reloading as she went. And The Breaker named Waverly tried to pull free of Finli. Nar, nar, none of that, may it please ya, Finli thought. He yanked the manwhod been a bookkeeper or some such thing in his preAlgul lifecloser to him, then slapped him twice across the face, hard enough to make his hand hurt. Waverly screamed in pain and surprise. Who the fuck is back there! Finli roared. WHO THE FUCK IS DOING THIS? The followup fire engines had halted in front of Damli House and were pouring streams of water into the smoke. Finli didnt know if it could help, but probably it couldnt hurt. And at least the damned things hadnt crashed into the building they were supposed to save, like the first one. Sir, I dont know! Waverly sobbed. Blood was streaming from one of his nostrils and the corner of his mouth. I dont know, but there has to be fifty, maybe a hundred of the devils! Dinky got us out! God bless Dinky Earnshaw! Gaskie o Tego, meanwhile, wrapped one goodsized hand around James Cagneys neck and the other around Jaklis. Gaskie had an idea son of a bitching crowhead Jakli had been on the verge of running, but there was no time to worry about that now. He needed them both. And Boss! Finli shouted. Boss, grab the Earnshaw kid! Something about this smells! And With Cags face pressing against one of his cheeks and Jaklis against the other, the Wease (who thought as clearly as anyone that terrible morning) was finally able to make himself heard. Gaskie, meanwhile, repeated his command divide up the armed guards and put them with the retreating Breakers. Dont try to stop them, but stay with them! And for Christs sake, keep em from getting electrocuted! Keep em off the fence if they go past Main Stree Before he could finish this admonishment, a figure came plummeting out of the thickening smoke. It was Gangli, the compound doctor, his white coat on fire, his roller skates still on his feet. And Susannah Dean took up a position at the left rear corner of Damli House, coughing. She saw three of the sons of bitches Gaskie, Jakli, and Cagney, had she but known it. Before she could draw a bead, eddying smoke blotted them out. When it cleared, Jakli and Cag were gone, rounding up armed guards to act as sheepdogs who would at least try to protect their panicked charges, even if they could not immediately stop them. Gaskie was still there, and Susannah took him with a single headshot. Pimli didnt see it. It was becoming clear to him that all the confusion was on the surface. Quite likely deliberate. The Breakers decision to move away from the attackers north of the Algul had come a little too quickly and was a little too organized. Never mind Earnshaw, he thought, Brautigans the one I want to talk to. But before he could catch up to Ted, Tassa grabbed the Master in a frantic, terrified hug, babbling that Wardens House was on fire, he was afraid, terribly afraid, that all of Masters clothes, his books Pimli Prentiss knocked him aside with a hammerblow to the side of his head. The pulse of the Breakers unified thought (badmind now instead of goodmind), yammered (WITH YOUR HANDS UP YOU WONT BE) crazily in his head, threatening to drive out all thought. Fucking Brautigan had done this, he knew it, and the man was too far ahead  unless  Pimli looked at the Peacemaker in his hand, considered it, then jammed it back into the dockers clutch under his left arm. He wanted fucking Brautigan alive. Fucking Brautigan had some explaining to do. Not to mention some more goddamned breaking. Chowchowchow. Bullets flicking all around him. Running hume guards, taheen, and cantoi all around him. And Christ, only a few of them were armed, mostly humes whod been down for fencepatrol. Those who guarded the Breakers didnt really need guns, by and large the Breakers were as tame as parakeets and the thought of an outside attack had seemed ludicrous until  Until it happened, he thought, and spied Trampas. Trampas! he bawled.  Trampas! Hey, cowboy! Grab Earnshaw and bring him to me! Grab Earnshaw! Here in the middle of the Mall it was a little less noisy and Trampas heard sai Prentiss quite clearly. He sprinted after Dinky and grabbed the young man by one arm. And Elevenyearold Daneeka Rostov came out of the rolling smoke that now entirely obscured the lower half of Damli House, pulling two red wagons behind her. Daneekas face was red and swollen; tears were streaming from her eyes; she was bent over almost double with the effort it was taking her to keep pulling Baj, who sat in one Radio Flyer wagon, and Sej, who sat in the other. Both had the huge heads and tiny, wise eyes of hydrocephalic savants, but Sej was equipped with waving stubs of arms while Baj had none. Both were now foaming at the mouth and making hoarse gagging sounds. Help me! Dani managed, coughing harder than ever. Help me, someone, before they choke! Dinky saw her and started in that direction. Trampas restrained him, although it was clear his heart wasnt in it. No, Dink, he said. His tone was apologetic but firm. Let someone else do it. Boss wants to talk to Then Brautigan was there again, face pale, mouth a single stitched line in his lower face. Let him go, Trampas. I like you, dog, but you dont want to get in our business today. Ted? What Dink started toward Dani again. Trampas pulled him back again. Beyond them, Baj fainted and tumbled headfirst from his wagon. Although he landed on the soft grass, his head made a dreadful rotten splitting sound, and Dani Rostov shrieked. Dinky lunged for her. Trampas yanked him back once more, and hard. At the same time he pulled the .38 Colt Woodsman he was wearing in his own dockers clutch. There was no more time to reason with him. Ted Brautigan hadnt thrown the mindspear since using it against the walletthief in Akron, back in 1935; hadnt even used it when the low men took him prisoner again in the Bridgeport, Connecticut, of 1960, although hed been sorely tempted. He had promised himself hed never use it again, and he certainly didnt want to throw it at (smile when you say that ) Trampas, who had always treated him decently. But he had to get to the south end of the compound before order was restored, and he meant to have Dinky with him when he arrived. Also, he was furious. Poor little Baj, who always had a smile for anyone and everyone! He concentrated and felt a sick pain rip through his head. The mindspear flew. Trampas let go of Dinky and gave Ted a look of unbelieving reproach that Ted would remember to the end of his life. Then Trampas grabbed the sides of his head like a man with the worst Excedrin Headache in the universe, and fell dead on the grass with his throat swollen and his tongue sticking out of his mouth. Come on! Ted cried, and grabbed Dinkys arm. Prentiss was looking away for the time being, thank God, distracted by another explosion. But Dani  and Sej! She can get Sej! Sending the rest of it mentally (now that she doesnt have to pull Baj too ) Ted and Dinky fled while behind them Pimli Prentiss turned, looked unbelievingly at Trampas, and bawled for them to stopto stop in the name of the Crimson King. Finli o Tego unlimbered his own gun, but before he could fire, Daneeka Rostov was on him, biting and scratching. She weighed almost nothing, but for a moment he was so surprised to be attacked from this unexpected quarter that she almost bowled him over. He curled a strong, furry arm around her neck and threw her aside, but by then Ted and Dinky were almost out of range, cutting to the left side of Wardens House and disappearing into the smoke. Finli steadied his pistol in both hands, took in a breath, held it, and squeezed off a single shot. Blood flew from the old mans arm; Finli heard him cry out and saw him swerve. Then the young pup grabbed the old cur and they cut around the corner of the house. Im coming for you! Finli bellowed after them. Yar I am, and when I catch you, Ill make you wish you were never born! But the threat felt horribly empty, somehow. Now the entire population of Algul Siento  Breakers, taheen, hume guards, cantoi with bloody red spots glaring on their foreheads like third eyeswas in tidal motion, flowing south. And Finli saw something he really did not like at all the Breakers and only the Breakers were moving that way with their arms raised. If there were more harriers down there, theyd have no trouble at all telling which ones to shoot, would they? And In his room on the third floor of Corbett Hall, still on his knees at the foot of his glasscovered bed, coughing on the smoke that was drifting in through his broken window, Sheemie Ruiz had his revelation  or was spoken to by his imagination, take your pick. In either case, he leaped to his feet. His eyes, normally friendly but always puzzled by a world he could not quite understand, were clear and full of joy. BEAM SAYS THANKYA! he cried to the empty room. He looked around, as happy as Ebenezer Scrooge discovering that the spirits have done it all in one night, and ran for the door with his slippers crunching on the broken glass. One sharp spear of glass pierced his footcarrying his death on its tip, had he but known it, say sorry, say Discordiabut in his joy he didnt even feel it. He dashed into the hall and then down the stairs. On the second floor landing, Sheemie came upon an elderly female Breaker named Belle ORourke, grabbed her, shook her. BEAM SAYS THANKYA! he hollered into her dazed and uncomprehending face. BEAM SAYS ALL MAY YET BE WELL! NOT TOO LATE! JUST IN TIME! He rushed on to spread the glad news (glad to him, anyway), and On Main Street, Roland looked first at Eddie Dean, then at Jake Chambers. Theyre coming, and this is where we have to take them. Wait for my command, then stand and be true. EIGHTEEN First to appear were three Breakers, running full out with their arms raised. They crossed Main Street that way, never seeing Eddie, who was in the boxoffice of the Gem (hed knocked out the glass on all three sides with the sandalwood grip of the gun which had once been Rolands), or Jake (sitting inside an engineless Ford sedan parked in front of the Pleasantville Bake Shoppe), or Roland himself (behind a mannequin in the window of Gay Paree Fashions). They reached the other sidewalk and looked around, bewildered. Go, Roland thought at them. Go on and get out of here, take the alley, get away while you can. Come on! one of them shouted, and they ran down the alley between the drug store and the bookshop. Another appeared, then two more, then the first of the guards, a hume with a pistol raised to the side of his frightened, wideeyed face. Roland sighted him  and then held his fire. More of the Devar personnel began to appear, running into Main Street from between the buildings. They spread themselves wide apart. As Roland had hoped and expected, they were trying to flank their charges and channel them. Trying to keep the retreat from turning into a rout. Form two lines! a taheen with a ravens head was shouting in a buzzing, outofbreath voice. Form two lines and keep em between, for your fathers sakes! One of the others, a redheaded taheen with his shirttail out, yelled What about the fence, Jakli? What if they run on the fence? Cant do nothing about that, Cag, just A shrieking Breaker tried to run past the raven before he could finish, and the ravenJakligave him such a mighty push that the poor fellow went sprawling in the middle of the street. Stay together, you maggots! he snarled. Run ifee will, but keep some fucking order about it! As if there could be any order in this, Roland thought (and not without satisfaction). Then, to the redhead, the one called Jakli shouted Let one or two of em frythe restll see and stop! It would complicate things if either Eddie or Jake started shooting at this point, but neither did. The three gunslingers watched from their places of concealment as a species of order rose from the chaos. More guards appeared. Jakli and the redhead directed them into the two lines, which was now a corridor running from one side of the street to the other. A few Breakers got past them before the corridor was fully formed, but only a few. A new taheen appeared, this one with the head of a weasel, and took over for the one called Jakli. He pounded a couple of running Breakers on the back, actually hurrying them up. From south of Main Street came a bewildered shout Fence is cut! And then another I think the guards are dead! This latter cry was followed by a howl of horror, and Roland knew as surely as if he had seen it that some unlucky Breaker had just come upon a severed watchmans head in the grass. The terrified babble on the heels of this hadnt run itself out when Dinky Earnshaw and Ted Brautigan appeared from between the bakery and the shoe store, so close to Jakes hiding place that he could have reached out the window of his car and touched them. Ted had been winged. His right shirtsleeve had turned red from the elbow down, but he was movingwith a little help from Dinky, who had an arm around him. Ted turned as the two of them ran through the gauntlet of guards and looked directly at Rolands hiding place for a moment. Then he and Earnshaw entered the alley and were gone. That made them safe, at least for the time being, and that was good. But where was the big bug? Where was Prentiss, the man in charge of this hateful place? Roland wanted him and yon Weaselhead taheen sai bothcut off the snakes head and the snake dies. But they couldnt afford to wait much longer. The stream of fleeing Breakers was drying up. The gunslinger didnt think sai Weasel would wait for the last stragglers; hed want to keep his precious charges from escaping through the cut fence. Hed know they wouldnt go far, given the sterile and gloomy countryside all around, but hed also know that if there were attackers at the north end of the compound, there might be rescuers standing by at the And there he was, thank the gods and Gansai Pimli Prentiss, staggering and winded and clearly in a state of shock, with a loaded dockers clutch swinging back and forth under his meaty arm. Blood was coming from one nostril and the corner of one eye, as if all this excitement had caused something to rupture inside of his head. He went to the Weasel, weaving slightly from side to side  it was this drunken weave that Roland would later blame in his bitter heart for the final outcome of that mornings workprobably meaning to take command of the operation. Their short but fervent embrace, both giving comfort and taking it, told Roland all he needed to know about the closeness of their relationship. He leveled his gun on the back of Prentisss head, pulled the trigger, and watched as blood and hair flew. Master Prentisss hands shot out, the fingers spread against the dark sky, and he collapsed almost at the stunned Weasels feet. As if in response to this, the atomic sun came on, flooding the world with light. Hile, you gunslingers, kill them all! Roland cried, fanning the trigger of his revolver, that ancient murdermachine, 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 the sound of the gunshots, let alone had time to react. For Gilead, for New York, for the Beam, for your fathers! Hear me, hear me! Leave not one of them standing! KILL THEM ALL! And so they did the gunslinger out of Gilead, the former drug addict out of Brooklyn, the lonely child who had once been known to Mrs. Greta Shaw as Bama. Coming south from behind them, rolling through thickening banners of smoke on the SCT (diverting from a straight course 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 the ways of nonviolent protest by young and earnest men from the Ndouble ACP and who had now embraced, fully and with no regrets, the way of the gun. Susannah picked off three laggard humie guards and one fleeing taheen. The taheen had a rifle slung over one shoulder but never tried for it. Instead he raised his sleek, furcovered arms his head was vaguely bearishand cried for quarter and parole. Mindful of all that had gone on here, not in the least how the pureed brains of children had been fed to the Beamkillers in order to keep them operating at top efficiency, Susannah gave him neither, although neither did she give him cause to suffer or time to fear his fate. By the time she rolled down the alley between the movie theater and the hair salon, the shooting had stopped. Finli and Jakli were dying; James Cagney was dead with his hume mask torn halfoff his repulsive rats head; lying with these were another three dozen, just as dead. The formerly immaculate gutters of Pleasantville ran with their blood. There were undoubtedly other guards about the compound, but by now theyd be in hiding, positive that they had been set upon by a hundred or more seasoned fighters, landpirates from God only knew where. The majority of Algul Sientos Breakers were in the grassy area between the rear of Main Street and the south watchtowers, huddled like the sheep they were. Ted, unmindful of his bleeding arm, had already begun taking attendance. Then the entire northern contingent of the harrier army appeared at the head of the alley next to the movieshow one shorleg black lady mounted on an ATV. She was steering with one hand and holding the Coyote machinepistol steady on the handlebars with the other. She saw the bodies heaped in the street and nodded with joyless satisfaction. Eddie came out of the boxoffice and embraced her. Hey, sugarman, hey, she murmured, fluttering kisses along the side of his neck in a way that made him shiver. Then Jake was therepale from the killing, but composedand she slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. Her eyes happened on Roland, standing on the sidewalk behind the three he had drawn to MidWorld. His gun dangled beside his left thigh, and could he feel the expression of longing on his face? Did he even know it was there? She doubted it, and her heart went out to him. Come here, Gilead, she said. This is a group hug, and youre part of the group. For a moment she didnt think he understood the invitation, or was pretending not to understand. Then he came, pausing to reholster his gun and to pick up Oy. He moved in between Jake and Eddie. Oy jumped into Susannahs lap as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Then the gunslinger put one arm around Eddies waist and the other around Jakes. Susannah reached up (the bumbler scrabbling comically for purchase on her suddenly tilting lap), put her arms around Rolands neck, and put a hearty smack on his sunburned forehead. Jake and Eddie laughed. Roland joined them, smiling as we do when we have been surprised by happiness. Id have you see them like this; Id have you see them very well. Will you? They are clustered around Suzies Cruisin Trike, embracing in the aftermath of their victory. Id have you see them this way not because they have won a great battlethey know better than that, every one of thembut because now they are katet for the last time. The story of their fellowship ends here, on this makebelieve street and beneath this artificial sun; the rest of the tale will be short and brutal compared to all thats gone before. Because when katet breaks, the end always comes quickly. Say sorry. NINETEEN Pimli Prentiss watched through bloodcrusted, dying eyes as the younger of the two men broke from the group embrace and approached Finli o Tego. The young man saw that Finli was still stirring and dropped to one knee beside him. The woman, now dismounted from her motorized tricycle, and the boy began to check the rest of their victims and dispatch the few who still lived. Even as he lay dying with a bullet in his own head, Pimli understood this as mercy rather than cruelty. And when the job was done, Pimli supposed theyd meet with the rest of their cowardly, sneaking friends 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 they discovered. You wont find many, my yellowback friends, he thought. Youve wiped out twothirds of my men right here. And how many of the attackers had Master Pimli, Security Chief Finli, and their men taken in return? So far as Pimli knew, not a single one. But perhaps he could do something about that. His right hand began its slow and painful journey up toward the dockers clutch, and the Peacemaker holstered there. Eddie, meanwhile, had put the barrel of the Gilead revolver with the sandalwood grips against the side of Weaselboys head. His finger was tightening on the trigger when he saw that Weaselboy, although shot in the chest, bleeding heavily, and clearly dying fast, was looking at him with complete awareness. And something else, something Eddie did not much care for. He thought it was contempt. He looked up, saw Susannah and Jake checking bodies at the eastern end of the killzone, saw Roland on the far sidewalk, speaking with Dinky and Ted as he knotted a makeshift bandage around the latters arm. The two former Breakers were listening carefully, and although both of them looked dubious, they were nodding their heads. Eddie returned his attention to the dying taheen. Youre at the end of the path, my friend, he said. Plugged in the pump, it looks like to me. Do you have something you want to say before you step into the clearing? Finli nodded. Say it, then, chum. But Id keep it short if you want to get it all out. Thee and thine are a pack of yellowback dogs, Finli managed. He probably was shot in the heartso it felt, anyway but he would say this; it needed to be said, and he willed his damaged heart to beat until it was out. Then hed die and welcome the dark. Pissstinking yellowback dogs, killing men from ambush. Thats what Id say. Eddie smiled humorlessly. And what about yellowback dogs whod use children to kill the whole world from ambush, my friend? The whole universe ? The Weasel blinked at that, as if hed expected no such reply. Perhaps any reply at all. I had  my orders. I have no doubt of that, Eddie said. And followed them to the end. Enjoy hell or Naar or whatever you call it. He put the barrel of his gun against Finlis temple and pulled the trigger. The Wease jerked a single time and was still. Grimacing, Eddie got to his feet. He caught movement from the corner of his eye as he did so and saw another onethe boss of the showhad struggled up onto one elbow. His gun, the Peacemaker .40 that had once executed a rapist, was leveled. Eddies reflexes were quick, but there was no time to use them. The Peacemaker roared a single time, fire licking from the end of its barrel, and blood flew from Eddie Deans brow. A lock of hair flipped on the back of his head as the slug exited. He slapped his hand to the hole that had appeared over his right eye, like a man who has remembered something of vital importance just a little too late. Roland whirled on the rundown heels of his boots, pulling his own gun in a dip too quick to see. Jake and Susannah also turned. Susannah saw her husband standing in the street with the heel of his hand pressed to his brow. Eddie? Sugar? Pimli was struggling to cock the Peacemaker again, his upper lip curled back from his teeth in a doglike snarl of effort. Roland shot him in the throat and Algul Sientos Master snaprolled to his left, the stilluncocked pistol flying out of his hand and clattering to a stop beside the body of his friend the Weasel. It finished almost at Eddies feet. Eddie! Susannah screamed, and began a loping crawl toward him, thrusting herself on her hands. Hes not hurt bad, she told herself, not hurt bad, dear God dont let my man be hurt bad Then she saw the blood running from beneath his pressing hand, pattering down into the street, and knew it was bad. Suze? he asked. His voice was perfectly clear. Suzie, where are you? I cant see. He took one step, a second, a third  and then fell facedown in the street, just as Granpere Jaffords had known he would, aye, from the first moment hed laid eyes on him. For the boy was a gunslinger, say true, and it was the only end that one such as he could expect. CHAPTER XII THE TET BREAKS  ONE That night found Jake Chambers sitting disconsolately outside the Clover Tavern at the east end of Main Street in Pleasantville. The bodies of the guards had been carted away by a robot maintenance crew, and that was at least something of a relief. Oy had been in the boys lap for an hour or more. Ordinarily he would never have stayed so close for so long, but he seemed to understand that Jake needed him. On several occasions, Jake wept into the bumblers fur. For most of that endless day Jake found himself thinking in two different voices. This had happened to him before, but not for years; not since the time when, as a very young child, he suspected he might have suffered some sort of weird, belowtheparentalradar breakdown. Eddies dying, said the first voice (the one that used to assure him there were monsters in his closet, and soon they would emerge to eat him alive). Hes in a room in Corbett Hall and Susannahs with him and he wont shut up, but hes dying. No, denied the second voice (the one that used to assure himfeeblythat there were no such things as monsters). No, that cant be. Eddies  Eddie! And besides, hes katet. He might die when we reach the Dark Tower, we might all die when we get there, but not now, not here, thats crazy. Eddies dying, replied the first voice. It was implacable. Hes got a hole in his head almost big enough to stick your fist in, and hes dying. To this the second voice could offer only more denials, each weaker than the last. Not even the knowledge that they had likely saved the Beam (Sheemie certainly seemed to think they had; hed crisscrossed the weirdly silent campus of the DevarToi, shouting the news BEAM SAYS ALL MAY BE WELL! BEAM SAYS THANKYA!at the top of his lungs) could make Jake feel better. The loss of Eddie was too great a price to pay even for such an outcome. And the breaking of the tet was an even greater price. Every time Jake thought of it, he felt sick to his stomach and sent up inarticulate prayers to God, to Gan, to the Man Jesus, to any or all of them to do a miracle and save Eddies life. He even prayed to the writer. Save my friends life and well save yours, he prayed to Stephen King, a man he had never seen. Save Eddie and we wont let that van hit you. I swear it. Then again hed think of Susannah screaming Eddies name, of trying to turn him over, and Roland wrapping his arms around her and saying You mustnt do that, Susannah, you mustnt disturb him, and how shed fought him, her face crazy, her face changing as different personalities seemed to inhabit it for a moment or two and then flee. I have to help him! shed sob in the Susannahvoice Jake knew, and then in another, harsher voice shed shout Let me go, mahfah! Let me do mah voodoo on him, make mah houngun, he goan git up an walk, you see! Sho! And Roland holding her through all of it, holding her and rocking her while Eddie lay in the street, but not dead, it would have been better, almost, if hed been dead (even if being dead meant the end of talking about miracles, the end of hope), but Jake could see his dusty fingers twitching and could hear him muttering incoherently, like a man who talks in his sleep. Then Ted had come, and Dinky just behind him, and two or three of the other Breakers trailing along hesitantly behind them. Ted had gotten on his knees beside the struggling, screaming woman and motioned for Dinky to get kneebound on the other side of her. Ted had taken one of her hands, then nodded for Dink to take the other. And something had flowed out of themsomething deep and soothing. It wasnt meant for Jake, no, not at all, but he caught some of it, anyway, and felt his wildly galloping heart slow. He looked into Ted Brautigans face and saw that Teds eyes were doing their trick, the pupils swelling and shrinking, swelling and shrinking. Susannahs cries faltered, subsiding to little hurt groans. She looked down at Eddie, and when she bent her head her eyes had spilled tears onto the back of Eddies shirt, making dark places, like raindrops. That was when Sheemie appeared from one of the alleys, shouting glad hosannahs to all who would hear him BEAM SAYS NOT TOO LATE! BEAM SAYS JUST IN TIME, BEAM SAYS THANKYA AND WE MUST LET HIM HEAL! and limping badly on one foot (none of them thought anything of it then or even noticed it). Dinky murmured to the growing crowd of Breakers looking at the mortally wounded gunslinger, and several went to Sheemie and got him to quiet down. From the main part of the DevarToi the alarms continued, but the followup fire engines were actually getting the three worst fires (those in Damli House, Wardens House, and Feveral Hall) under control.


What Jake remembered next was Teds fingersunbelievably gentle fingersspreading the hair on the back of Eddies head and exposing a large hole filled with a dark jelly of blood. There were little white flecks in it. Jake had wanted to believe those flecks were bits of bone. Better than thinking they might be flecks of Eddies brain. At the sight of this terrible headwound Susannah leaped to her feet and began to scream again. Began to struggle. Ted and Dinky (who was paler than paste) exchanged a glance, tightened their grip on her hands, and once more sent the (peace ease quiet wait calm slow peace ) soothing message that was as much colorscool blue shading to quiet ashes of grayas it was words. Roland, meanwhile, held her shoulders. Can anything be done for him? Roland asked Ted. Anything at all? He can be made comfortable, Ted said. We can do that much, at least. Then he pointed toward the Devar. Dont you still have work there to finish, Roland? For a moment Roland didnt quite seem to understand that. Then he looked at the bodies of the downed guards, and did. Yes, he said. I suppose I do. Jake, can you help me? If the ones left were to find a new leader and regroup  that wouldnt do at all. What about Susannah? Jake had asked. Susannahs going to help us see her man to a place where he can be at his ease, and die as peacefully as possible, said Ted Brautigan. Arent you, dear heart? Shed looked at him with an expression that was not quite vacant; the understanding (and the pleading) in that gaze went into Jakes heart like the tip of an icicle. Must he die? she had asked him. Ted had lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. Yes, he said. He must die and you must bear it. Then you have to do something for me, she said, and touched Teds cheek with her fingers. To Jake those fingers looked cold. Cold. What, love? Anything I can. He took hold of her fingers and wrapped them (peace ease quiet wait calm slow peace ) in his own. Stop what youre doing, unless I tell you different, said she. He looked at her, surprised. Then he glanced at Dinky, who only shrugged. Then he looked back at Susannah. You mustnt use your goodmind to steal my grief, Susannah told him, for Id open my mouth and drink it to the dregs. Every drop. For a moment Ted only stood with his head lowered and a frown creasing his brow. Then he looked up and gave her the sweetest smile Jake had ever seen. Aye, lady, Ted replied. Well do as you ask. But if you need us  when you need us  Ill call, Susannah said, and once more slipped to her knees beside the muttering man who lay in the street. TWO As Roland and Jake approached the alley which would take them back to the center of the DevarToi, where they would put off mourning their fallen friend by taking care of any who might still stand against them, Sheemie reached out and plucked the sleeve of Rolands shirt. Beam says thankya, Will Dearborn that was. He had blown out his voice with shouting and spoke in a hoarse croak. Beam says all may yet be well. Good as new. Better. Thats fine, Roland said, and Jake supposed it was. There had been no real joy then, however, as there was no real joy now. Jake kept thinking of the hole Ted Brautigans gentle fingers had exposed. That hole filled with red jelly. Roland put an arm around Sheemies shoulders, squeezed him, gave him a kiss. Sheemie smiled, delighted. Ill come with you, Roland. Willee have me, dear? Not this time, Roland said. Why are you crying? Sheemie asked. Jake had seen the happiness draining from Sheemies face, being replaced with worry. Meanwhile, more Breakers were returning to Main Street, milling around in little groups. Jake had seen consternation in the expressions they directed toward the gunslinger  and a certain dazed curiosity  and, in some cases, clear dislike. Hate, almost. He had seen no gratitude, not so much as a speck of gratitude, and for that hed hated them. My friend is hurt, Roland had said. I cry for him, Sheemie. And for his wife, who is my friend. Will you go to Ted and sai Dinky, and try to soothe her, should she ask to be soothed? If you want, aye! Anything for you! Thankeesai, son of Stanley. And help if they move my friend. Your friend Eddie! Him who lays hurt! Aye, his name is Eddie, you say true. Will you help Eddie? Aye! And theres something else Aye? Sheemie asked, then seemed to remember something. Aye! Help you go away, travel far, you and your friends! Ted told me. Make a hole, he said, like you did for me. Only they brought him back. The bad uns. Theyd not bring you back, for the bad uns are gone! Beams at peace! And Sheemie laughed, a jarring sound to Jakes grieving ear. To Rolands too, maybe, because his smile was strained. In time, Sheemie  although I think Susannah may stay here, and wait for us to return. If we do return, Jake thought. But I have another chore you may be able to do. Not helping someone travel to that other world, but like that, a little. Ive told Ted and Dinky, and theyd tell you, once Eddies been put at his ease. Will you listen? Aye! And help, if I can! Roland clapped him on the shoulder. Good! Then Jake and the gunslinger had gone in a direction that might have been north, headed back to finish what they had begun. THREE They flushed out another fourteen guards in the next three hours, most of them humes. Roland surprised Jakea little by only killing the two who shot at them from behind the fire engine that had crashed with one wheel stuck in the cellar bulkhead. The rest he disarmed and then gave parole, telling them that any DevarToi guards still in the compound when the lateafternoon changeofshifts horn blew would be shot out of hand. But where will we go? asked a taheen with a snowywhite roosters head below a great floppyred coxcomb (he reminded Jake a little of Foghorn Leghorn, the cartoon character). Roland shook his head. I care not where you fetch, he said, as long as youre not here when the next horn blows, kennit. Youve done hells work here, but hells shut, and I mean to see it will never open this particular set of doors again. What do you mean? asked the roostertaheen, almost timidly, but Roland wouldnt say, had only told the creature to pass on the message to any others he might run across. Most of the remaining taheen and cantoi left Algul Siento in pairs and triplets, going without argument and nervously looking back over their shoulders every few moments. Jake thought they were right to be afraid, because his dinhs face that day had been abstract with thought and terrible with grief. Eddie Dean lay on his deathbed, and Roland of Gilead would not bear crossing. What are you going to do to the place? Jake asked after the afternoon horn had blown. They were making their way past the smoking husk of Damli House (where the robot firemen had posted signs every twenty feet reading OFFLIMITS PENDING FIRE DEPT. INVESTIGATION), on their way to see Eddie. Roland only shook his head, not answering the question. On the Mall, Jake spied six Breakers standing in a circle, holding hands. They looked like folks having a sance. Sheemie was there, and Ted, and Dani Rostov; there also was a young woman, an older one, and a stout, bankerlylooking man. Beyond, lying with their feet sticking out under blankets, was a line of the nearly fifty guards who had died during the brief action. Do you know what theyre doing? Jake asked, meaning the sancefolkenthe ones behind them were just being dead, a job that would occupy them from now on. Roland glanced toward the circle of Breakers briefly. Yes. What? Not now, said the gunslinger. Now were going to pay our respects to Eddie. Youre going to need all the serenity you can manage, and that means emptying your mind. FOUR Now, sitting with Oy outside the empty Clover Tavern with its neon beersigns and silent jukebox, Jake reflected on how right Roland had been, and how grateful Jake himself had been when, after fortyfive minutes or so, the gunslinger had looked at him, seen his terrible distress, and excused him from the room where Eddie lingered, giving up his vitality an inch at a time, leaving the imprint of his remarkable will on every last inch of his lifes tapestry. The litterbearing party Ted Brautigan had organized had borne the young gunslinger to Corbett Hall, where he was laid in the spacious bedroom of the firstfloor proctors suite. The litterbearers lingered in the dormitorys courtyard, and as the afternoon wore on, the rest of the Breakers joined them. When Roland and Jake arrived, a pudgy redhaired woman stepped into Rolands way. Lady, I wouldnt do that, Jake had thought. Not this afternoon. In spite of the days alarums and excursions, this woman whod looked to Jake like the Lifetime President of his mothers garden clubhad found time to put on a fairly heavy coat of makeup powder, rouge, and lipstick as red as the side of a Devar fire engine. She introduced herself as Grace Rumbelow (formerly of Aldershot, Hampshire, England) and demanded to know what was going to happen nextwhere they would go, what they would do, who would take care of them. The same questions the roosterheaded taheen had asked, in other words. For we have been taken care of, said Grace Rumbelow in ringing tones (Jake had been fascinated with how she said been, so it rhymed with seen), and are in no position, at least for the time being, to care for ourselves. There were calls of agreement at this. Roland looked her up and down, and something in his face had robbed the lady of her measured indignation. Get out of my road, said the gunslinger, or Ill push you down. She grew pale beneath her powder and did as he said without uttering another word. A birdlike clatter of disapproval followed Jake and Roland into Corbett Hall, but it didnt start until the gunslinger was out of their view and they no longer had to fear falling beneath the unsettling gaze of his blue eyes. The Breakers reminded Jake of some kids with whom hed gone to school at Piper, classroom nitwits willing to shout out stuff like this test sucks or bite my bag but only when the teacher was out of the room. The firstfloor hallway of Corbett was bright with fluorescent lights and smelled strongly of smoke from Damli House and Feveral Hall. Dinky Earnshaw was seated in a folding chair to the right of the door marked PROCTORS SUITE, smoking a cigarette. He looked up as Roland and Jake approached, Oy trotting along in his usual position just behind Jakes heel. How is he? Roland asked. Dying, man, Dinky said, and shrugged. And Susannah? Strong. Once hes gone Dinky shrugged again, as if to say it could go either way, any way. Roland knocked quietly on the door. Who is it? Susannahs voice, muffled. Roland and Jake, the gunslinger said. Will you have us? The question was met with what seemed to Jake an unusually long pause. Roland, however, didnt seem surprised. Neither did Dinky, for that matter. At last Susannah said Come in. They did. FIVE Sitting with Oy in the soothing dark, waiting for Rolands call, Jake reflected on the scene that had met his eyes in the darkened room. That, and the endless threequarters of an hour before Roland had seen his discomfort and let him go, saying hed call Jake back when it was time. Jake had seen a lot of death since being drawn to MidWorld; had dealt it; had even experienced his own, although he remembered very little of that. But this was the death of a kamate, and what had been going on in the bedroom of the proctors suite just seemed pointless. And endless. Jake wished with all his heart that hed stayed outside with Dinky; he didnt want to remember his wisecracking, occasionally hottempered friend this way. For one thing, Eddie looked worse than frail as he lay in the proctors bed with his hand in Susannahs; he looked old and (Jake hated to think of it) stupid. Or maybe the word was senile. His mouth had folded in at the corners, making deep dimples. Susannah had washed his face, but the stubble on his cheeks made them look dirty anyway. There were big purple patches beneath his eyes, almost as though that bastard Prentiss had beaten him up before shooting him. The eyes themselves were closed, but they rolled almost ceaselessly beneath the thin veils of his lids, as though Eddie were dreaming. And he talked. A steady low muttering stream of words. Some of the things he said Jake could make out, some he couldnt. Some of them made at least minimal sense, but a lot of it was what his friend Benny would have called kicome utter nonsense. From time to time Susannah would wet a rag in the basin on the table beside the bed, wring it out, and wipe her husbands brow and dry lips. Once Roland got up, took the basin, emptied it in the bathroom, refilled it, and brought it back to her. She thanked him in a low and perfectly pleasant tone of voice. A little later Jake had freshened the water, and she thanked him in the same way. As if she didnt even know they were there. We go for her, Roland had told Jake. Because later on shell remember who was there, and be grateful. But would she? Jake wondered now, in the darkness outside the Clover Tavern. Would she be grateful? It was down to Roland that Eddie Dean was lying on his deathbed at the age of twentyfive or six, wasnt it? On the other hand, if not for Roland, she would never have met Eddie in the first place. It was all too confusing. Like the idea of multiple worlds with New Yorks in every one, it made Jakes head ache. Lying there on his deathbed, Eddie had asked his brother Henry why he never remembered to box out. Hed asked Jack Andolini who hit him with the uglystick. Hed shouted, Look out, Roland, its BigNose George, hes back! And Suze, if you can tell him the one about Dorothy and the Tin Woodman, Ill tell him all the rest. And, chilling Jakes heart I do not shoot with my hand; he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. At that last one, Roland had taken Eddies hand in the gloom (for the shades had been drawn) and squeezed it. Aye, Eddie, you say true. Will you open your eyes and see my face, dear? But Eddie hadnt opened his eyes. Instead, chilling Jakes heart more deeply yet, the young man who now wore a useless bandage about his head had murmured, All is forgotten in the stone halls of the dead. These are the rooms of ruin where the spiders spin and the great circuits fall quiet, one by one. After that there was nothing intelligible for awhile, only that ceaseless muttering. Jake had refilled the basin of water, and when he had come back, Roland saw his drawn white face and told him he could go. But Go on and go, sugarbunch, Susannah said. Only be careful. Might still be some of em out there, looking for payback. But how will I Ill call you when its time, Roland said, and tapped Jakes temple with one of the remaining fingers on his right hand. Youll hear me. Jake had wanted to kiss Eddie before leaving, but he was afraid. Not that he might catch death like a coldhe knew better than thatbut afraid that even the touch of his lips might be enough to push Eddie into the clearing at the end of the path. And then Susannah might blame him. SIX Outside in the hallway, Dinky asked him how it was going. Real bad, Jake said. Do you have another cigarette? Dinky raised his eyebrows but gave Jake a smoke. The boy tamped it on his thumbnail, as hed seen the gunslinger do with tailormade smokes, then accepted a light and inhaled deeply. The smoke still burned, but not so harshly as the first time. His head only swam a little and he didnt cough. Pretty soon Ill be a natural, he thought. If I ever make it back to New York, maybe I can go to work for the Network, in my Dads department. Im already getting good at The Kill. He lifted the cigarette in front of his eyes, a little white missile with smoke issuing from the top instead of the bottom. The word CAMEL was written just below the filter. I told myself Id never do this, Jake told Dinky. Never in life. And here I am with one in my hand. He laughed. It was a bitter laugh, an adult laugh, and the sound of it coming out of his mouth made him shiver. I used to work for this guy before I came here, Dinky said. Mr. Sharpton, his name was. He used to tell me that never s the word God listens for when he needs a laugh. Jake made no reply. He was thinking of how Eddie had talked about the rooms of ruin. Jake had followed Mia into a room like that, once upon a time and in a dream. Now Mia was dead. Callahan was dead. And Eddie was dying. He thought of all the bodies lying out there under blankets while thunder rolled like bones in the distance. He thought of the man whod shot Eddie snaprolling to the left as Rolands bullet finished him off. He tried to remember the welcoming party for them back in Calla Bryn Sturgis, the music and dancing and colored torches, but all that came clear was the death of Benny Slightman, another friend. Tonight the world seemed made of death. He himself had died and come back back to MidWorld and back to Roland. All afternoon he had tried to believe the same thing might happen to Eddie and knew somehow that it would not. Jakes part in the tale had not been finished. Eddies was. Jake would have given twenty years of his lifethirty! not to believe that, but he did. He supposed he had progged it somehow. The rooms of ruin where the spiders spin and the great circuits fall quiet, one by one. Jake knew a spider. Was Mias child watching all of this? Having fun? Maybe rooting for one side or the other, like a fucking Yankee fan in the bleachers? He is. I know he is. I feel him. Are you all right, kiddo? Dinky asked. No, Jake said. Not all right. And Dinky nodded as if that was a perfectly reasonable answer. Well, Jake thought, probably he expected it. Hes a telepath, after all. As if to underline this, Dinky had asked who Mordred was. You dont want to know, Jake said. Believe me. He snuffed his cigarette halfsmoked (All your lung cancers right here, in the last quarterinch, his father used to say in tones of absolute certainty, pointing to one of his own filterless cigarettes like a TV pitchman) and left Corbett Hall. He used the back door, hoping to avoid the cluster of waiting, anxious Breakers, and in that he had succeeded. Now he was in Pleasantville, sitting on the curb like one of the homeless people you saw back in New York, waiting to be called. Waiting for the end. He thought about going into the tavern, maybe to draw himself a beer (surely if he was old enough to smoke and to kill people from ambush he was old enough to drink a beer), maybe just to see if the jukebox would play without change. He bet that Algul Siento had been what his Dad had claimed America would become in time, a cashless society, and that old Seeberg was rigged so you only had to push the buttons in order to start the music. And he bet that if he looked at the songstrip next to 19, hed see Someone Saved My Life Tonight, by Elton John. He got to his feet, and that was when the call came. Nor was he the only one who heard it; Oy let go a short, hurtsounding yip. Roland might have been standing right next to them. To me, Jake, and hurry. Hes going. SEVEN Jake hurried back down one of the alleys, skirted the stillsmoldering Wardens House (Tassa the houseboy, who had either ignored Rolands order to leave or hadnt been informed of it, was sitting silently on the stoop in a kilt and a sweatshirt, his head in his hands), and began to trot up the Mall, sparing a quick and troubled glance at the long line of dead bodies. The little sancecircle hed seen earlier was gone. I wont cry, he promised himself grimly. If Im old enough to smoke and think about drawing myself a beer, Im old enough to control my stupid eyes. I wont cry. Knowing he almost certainly would. EIGHT Sheemie and Ted had joined Dinky outside the proctors suite. Dinky had given up his seat to Sheemie. Ted looked tired, but Sheemie looked like shit on a cracker to Jake eyes bloodshot again, a crust of dried blood around his nose and one ear, cheeks leaden. He had taken off one of his slippers and was massaging his foot as though it pained him. Yet he was clearly happy. Maybe even exalted. Beam says all may yet be well, young Jake, Sheemie said. Beam says not too late. Beam says thankya. Thats good, Jake said, reaching for the doorknob. He barely heard what Sheemie was saying. He was concentrating (wont cry and make it harder for her ) on controlling his emotions once he was inside. Then Sheemie said something that brought him back in a hurry. Not too late in the Real World, either, Sheemie said. We know. We peeked. Saw the moving sign. Didnt we, Ted? Indeed we did. Ted was holding a can of NozzALa in his lap. Now he raised it and took a sip. When you get in there, Jake, tell Roland that if its June 19th of 99 youre interested in, youre still okay. But the margins commencing to get a little thin. Ill tell him, Jake said. And remind him that time sometimes slips over there. Slips like an old transmission. Thats apt to continue for quite awhile, regardless of the Beams recovery. And once the 19th is gone  It can never come again, Jake said. Not there. We know. He opened the door and slipped into the darkness of the proctors suite. NINE A single circle of stringent yellow light, thrown by the lamp on the bedtable, lay upon Eddie Deans face. It cast the shadow of his nose on his left cheek and turned his closed eyes into dark sockets. Susannah was kneeling on the floor beside him, holding both of his hands in both of hers and looking down at him. Her shadow ran long upon the wall. Roland sat on the other side of the bed, in deep shadow. The dying mans long, muttered monologue had ceased, and his respiration had lost all semblance of regularity. He would snatch a deep breath, hold it, then let it out in a lengthy, whistling whoosh. His chest would lie still so long that Susannah would look up into his face, her eyes shining with anxiety until the next long, tearing breath had begun. Jake sat down on the bed next to Roland, looked at Eddie, looked at Susannah, then looked hesitantly into the gunslingers face. In the gloom he could see nothing there except weariness. Ted says to tell you its almost June 19th Americaside, please and thankya. Also that time could slip a notch. Roland nodded. Yet well wait for this to be finished, I think. It wont be much longer, and we owe him that. How much longer? Jake murmured. I dont know. I thought he might be gone before you got here, even if you ran I did, once I got to the grassy part but, as you see  He fights hard, Susannah said, and that this was the only thing left for her to take pride in made Jake cold. My man fights hard. Mayhap he still has a word to say. TEN And so he did. Five endless minutes after Jake had slipped into the bedroom, Eddies eyes opened. Sue  He said, Su sie She leaned close, still holding his hands, smiling into his face, all her concentration fiercely narrowed. And with an effort Jake wouldnt have believed possible, Eddie freed one of his hands, swung it a little to the right, and grasped the tight kinks of her curls. If the weight of his arm pulled at the roots and hurt her, she showed no sign. The smile that bloomed on her mouth was joyous, welcoming, perhaps even sensuous. Eddie! Welcome back! Dont bullshit a bullshitter, he whispered. Im goin, sweetheart, not comin. Thats just plain sil Hush, he whispered, and she did. The hand caught in her hair pulled. She brought her face to his willingly and kissed his living lips one last time. I  will  wait for you, he said, forcing each word out with immense effort. Jake saw beads of sweat surface on his skin, the dying bodys last message to the living world, and that was when the boys heart finally understood what his head had known for hours. He began to cry. They were tears that burned and scoured. When Roland took his hand, Jake squeezed it fiercely. He was frightened as well as sad. If it could happen to Eddie, it could happen to anybody. It could happen to him. Yes, Eddie. I know youll wait, she said. In  He pulled in another of those great, wretched, rasping breaths. His eyes were as brilliant as gemstones. In the clearing. Another breath. Hand holding her hair. Lamplight casting them both in its mystic yellow circle. The one at the end of the path. Yes, dear. Her voice was calm now, but a tear fell on Eddies cheek and ran slowly down to the line of jaw. I hear you very well. Wait for me and Ill find you and well go together. Ill be walking then, on my own legs. Eddie smiled at her, then turned his eyes to Jake. Jake  to me. No, Jake thought, panicked, no, I cant, I cant. But he was already leaning close, into that smell of the end. He could see the fine line of grit just below Eddies hairline turning to paste as more tiny droplets of sweat sprang up. Wait for me, too, Jake said through numb lips. Okay, Eddie? Well all go on together. Well be katet, just like we were. He tried to smile and couldnt. His heart hurt too much for smiling. He wondered if it might not explode in his chest, the way stones sometimes exploded in a hot fire. He had learned that little fact from his friend Benny Slightman. Bennys death had been bad, but this was a thousand times worse. A million. Eddie was shaking his head. Not  so fast, buddy. He drew in another breath and then grimaced, as if the air had grown quills only he could feel. He whispered thennot from weakness, Jake thought later, but because this was just between them. Watch  for Mordred. Watch  Dandelo. Dandelion? Eddie, I dont Dandelo. Eyes widening. Enormous effort. Protect  your  dinh from Mordred. From Dandelo. You  Oy. Your job. His eyes cut toward Roland, then back to Jake. Shhh. Then Protect  II will. We will. Eddie nodded a little, then looked at Roland. Jake moved aside and the gunslinger leaned in for Eddies word to him. ELEVEN Never, ever, had Roland seen an eye so bright, not even on Jericho Hill, when Cuthbert had bade him a laughing goodbye. Eddie smiled. We had  some times. Roland nodded again. Youyou  But this Eddie couldnt finish. He raised one hand and made a weak twirling motion. I danced, Roland said, nodding. Danced the commala. Yes, Eddie mouthed, then drew in another of those whooping, painful breaths. It was the last. Thank you for my second chance, he said. Thank you  Father. That was all. Eddies eyes still looked at him, and they were still aware, but he had no breath to replace the one expended on that final word, that father. The lamplight gleamed on the hairs of his bare arms, turning them to gold. The thunder murmured. Then Eddies eyes closed and he laid his head to one side. His work was finished. He had left the path, stepped into the clearing. They sat around him acircle, but katet no more. TWELVE And so, thirty minutes later. Roland, Jake, Ted, and Sheemie sat on a bench in the middle of the Mall. Dani Rostov and the bankerlylooking fellow were nearby. Susannah was in the bedroom of the proctors suite, washing her husbands body for burial. They could hear her from where they were sitting. She was singing. All the songs seemed to be ones theyd heard Eddie singing along the trail. One was Born to Run. Another was The Rice Song, from Calla Bryn Sturgis. We have to go, and right away, Roland said. His hand had gone to his hip and was rubbing, rubbing. Jake had seen him take a bottle of aspirin (gotten God knew where) from his purse and dryswallow three. Sheemie, will you send us on? Sheemie nodded. He had limped to the bench, leaning on Dinky for support, and still none of them had had a chance to look at the wound on his foot. His limp seemed so minor compared to their other concerns; surely if Sheemie Ruiz were to die this night it would be as a result of opening a makeshift door between Thunderside and America. Another strenuous act of teleportation might be lethal to himwhat was a sore foot compared to that? Ill try, he said. Ill try my very hardest, so I will. Those who helped us look into New York will help us do this, Ted said. It was Ted who had figured out how to determine the current when on Americaside of the Keystone World. He, Dinky, Fred Worthington (the bankerlylooking man), and Dani Rostov had all been to New York, and were all able to summon up clear mental images of Times Square the lights, the crowds, the movie marquees  and, most important, the giant newsticker which broadcast the events of the day to the crowds below, making a complete circuit of Broadway and Fortyeighth Street every thirty seconds or so. The hole had opened long enough to inform them that UN forensics experts were examining supposed mass graves in Kosovo, that Vice President Gore had spent the day in New York City campaigning for President, that Roger Clemens had struck out thirteen Texas Rangers but the Yankees had still lost the night before. With the help of the rest, Sheemie could have held the hole open a good while longer (the others had been staring into the brilliance of that bustling New York night with a kind of hungry amazement, not Breaking now but Opening, Seeing), only there turned out to be no need for that. Following the baseball score, the date and time had gone speeding past them in brilliant yellowgreen letters a story high JUNE 18, 1999 919 PM. Jake opened his mouth to ask how they could be sure they had been looking into Keystone World, the one where Stephen King had less than a day to live, and then shut it again. The answer was in the time, stupid, as the answer always was the numbers comprising 919 also added up to nineteen. THIRTEEN And how long ago was it that you saw this? Roland asked. Dinky calculated. Had tove been five hours, at least. Based on when the changeofshifts horn blew and the sun went out for the night. Which should make it twothirty in the morning right now on the other side, Jake calculated, counting the hours on his fingers. Thinking was hard now, even simple addition slowed by constant thoughts of Eddie, but he found he could do it if he really tried. Only you cant depend on its only being five hours, because time goes faster on Americaside. That may change now that the Breakers have quit beating up on the Beamit may equalizebut probably not yet. Right now its probably still running fast. And it might slip. One minute Stephen King could be sitting in front of his typewriter in his office on the morning of June 19th, fine as paint, and the next  boom! Lying in a nearby funeral parlor that evening, eight or twelve hours gone by in a flash, his grieving family sitting in their own circle of lamplight and trying to decide what kind of service King wouldve wanted, always assuming that information wasnt in his will; maybe even trying to decide where hed be buried. And the Dark Tower? Stephen Kings version of the Dark Tower? Or Gans version, or the Prims version? Lost forever, all of them. And that sound you hear? Why, that must be the Crimson King, laughing and laughing and laughing from somewhere deep in the Discordia. And maybe Mordred the SpiderBoy, laughing along with him. For the first time since Eddies death, something besides grief came to the forefront of Jakes mind. It was a faint ticking sound, like the one the Sneetches had made when Roland and Eddie programmed them. Just before giving them to Haylis to plant, this had been. It was the sound of time, and time was not their friend. Hes right, Jake said. We have to go while we can still do something. Ted Will Susannah No, Roland said. Susannah will stay here, and youll help her bury Eddie. Do you agree? Yes, Ted said. Of course, if thats how youd have it. If were not back in  Roland calculated, one eye squinted shut, the other looking off into the darkness. If were not back by this time on the night after next, assume that weve come back to EndWorld at Fedic. Yes, assume Fedic, Jake thought. Of course.


Because what good would it do to make the other, even more logical assumption, that were either dead or lost between the worlds, todash forever? Doee ken Fedic? Roland was asking. South of here, isnt it? asked Worthington. He had wandered over with Dani, the preteen girl. Or what was south? Trampas and a few of the other cantoi used to talk of it as though it were haunted. Its haunted, all right, Roland said grimly. Can you put Susannah on a train to Fedic in the event that were not able to come back here? I know that at least some trains must still run, because of The Greencloaks? Dinky said, nodding. Or the Wolves, as you think of them. All the Dline trains still run. Theyre automated. Are they monos? Do they talk? Jake asked. He was thinking of Blaine. Dinky and Ted exchanged a doubtful look, then Dinky returned his attention to Jake and shrugged. How would we know? I probably know more about Dcups than Dlines, and I think thats true of everyone here. The Breakers, at least. I suppose some of the guards might know something more. Or that guy. He jerked a thumb at Tassa, who was still sitting on the stoop of Wardens House, head in hands. In any case, well tell Susannah to be careful, Roland murmured to Jake. Jake nodded. He supposed that was the best they could do, but he had another question. He made a mental note to ask either Ted or Dinky, if he got a chance to do so without being overheard by Roland. He didnt like the idea of leav ing Susannah behindevery instinct of his heart cried out against it  but he knew she would refuse to leave Eddie unburied, and Roland knew it, too. They could make her come, but only by binding and gagging her, and that would only make things worse than they were already. It might be, Ted said, that a few Breakers would be interested in taking the traintrip south with Susannah. Dani nodded. Were not exactly loved around here for helping you out, she said. Ted and Dinky are getting it the worst, but somebody spit at me half an hour ago, while I was in my room, getting this. She held up a batteredlooking and clearly muchloved Pooh Bear. I dont think theyll do anything while you guys are around, but after you go  She shrugged. Man, I dont get that, Jake said. Theyre free. Free to do what? Dinky asked. Think about it. Most of them were misfits on Americaside. Fifth wheels. Over here we were VIPs, and we got the best of everything. Now all thats gone. When you think about it that way, is it so hard to understand? Yes, Jake said bluntly. He supposed he didnt want to understand. They lost something else, too, Ted told them quietly. Theres a novel by Ray Bradbury called Fahrenheit 451. It was a pleasure to burn is that novels first line. Well, it was a pleasure to Break, as well. Dinky was nodding. So were Worthington and Dani Rostov. Even Sheemie was nodding his head. FOURTEEN Eddie lay in that same circle of light, but now his face was clean and the top sheet of the proctors bed had been folded neatly down to his midsection. Susannah had dressed him in a clean white shirt shed found somewhere (in the proctors closet was Jakes guess), and she must have found a razor, too, because his cheeks were smooth. Jake tried to imagine her sitting here and shaving the face of her dead husbandsinging Commalacomecome, the rice has just begun as she did it and at first he couldnt. Then, all at once, the image came to him, and it was so powerful that he had to struggle once again to keep from bursting into sobs. She listened quietly as Roland spoke to her, sitting on the side of the bed, hands folded in her lap, eyes downcast. To the gunslinger she looked like a shy virgin receiving a marriage proposal. When he had finished, she said nothing. Do you understand what Ive told you, Susannah? Yes, she said, still without looking up. Im to bury my man. Ted and Dinky will help me, if only to keep their friends she gave this word a bitterly sarcastic little twist that actually encouraged Roland a bit; she was in there after all, it seemed from taking him away from me and lynching his body from a sour apple tree. And then? Either youll find a way to come back here and well return to Fedic together, or Ted and Dinky will put me on the train and Ill go there alone. Jake didnt just hate the cold disconnection in her voice; it terrified him, as well. You know why we have to go back to the other side, dont you? he asked anxiously. I mean, you know, dont you? To save the writer while theres still time. She had picked up one of Eddies hands, and Jake noted with fascination that his nails were perfectly clean. What had she used to get the dirt out from beneath them, he wonderedhad the proctor had one of those little nailcare gadgets, like the one his father always kept on a keychain in his pocket? Sheemie says weve saved the Beam of Bear and Turtle. We think weve saved the rose. But theres at least one more job to do. The writer. The lazybones writer. Now she did look up, and her eyes flashed. Jake suddenly thought it might be good that Susannah wouldnt be with them whenifthey met sai Stephen King. You bettah save him, she said. Both Roland and Jake could hear old sneakthief Detta creeping into her voice. After whats happened today, you just bettah. And this time, Roland, you tell him not to stop with his writin. Not come hell, high water, cancer, or gangrene of the dick. Never mind worryin about the Pulitzer Prize, neither. You tell him to go on and be done with his motherfuckin story. I will pass the message on, Roland said. She nodded. Youll come to us when this job is finished, Roland said, and his voice rose just slightly on the last word, almost turning it into a question. Youll come with us and finish the final job, wont you? Yes, she said. Not because I want to  all the spit and git is out of mebut because he wanted me to. Gently, very gently, she put Eddies hand back on his chest with the other one. Then she pointed a finger at Roland. The tip trembled minutely. Just dont start up with any of that we are katet, we are one from many crap. Because those days are gone. Aint they? Yes, Roland said. But the Tower still stands. And waits. Lost my taste for that, too, big boy. Not quite los mah tase fo dat, too, but almost. Tell you the truth. But Jake realized that she was not telling the truth. She hadnt lost her desire to see the Dark Tower any more than Roland had. Any more than Jake had himself. Their tet might be broken, but ka remained. And she felt it just as they did. FIFTEEN They kissed her (and Oy licked her face) before leaving. You be careful, Jake, Susannah said. Come back safe, hear? Eddie would have told you the same. I know, Jake said, and then kissed her again. He was smiling because he could hear Eddie telling him to watch his ass, it was cracked already, and starting to cry once more for the same reason. Susannah held him tight a moment longer, then let him go and turned back to her husband, lying so still and cold in the proctors bed. Jake understood that she had little time for Jake Chambers or Jake Chamberss grief just now. Her own was too big. SIXTEEN Outside the suite, Dinky waited by the door. Roland was walking on with Ted, the two of them already at the end of the corridor and deep in conversation. Jake supposed they were headed back to the Mall, where Sheemie (with a little help from the others) would attempt to send them once more to Americaside. That reminded him of something. The Dline trains go south, Jake said. Or whats supposed to be southis that right? More or less, partner, Dinky said. Some of the engines have got names, like Delicious Rain or Spirit of the Snow Country, but theyve all got letters and numbers. Does the D stand for Dandelo? Jake asked. Dinky looked at him with a puzzled frown. Dandelo? What in the hell is that? Jake shook his head. He didnt even want to tell Dinky where hed heard the word. Well, I dont know, not for sure, Dinky said as they resumed walking, but I always assumed the D stood for Discordia. Because thats where all the trains supposedly end up, you knowsomewhere deep in the universes baddest Badlands. Jake nodded. D for Discordia. That made sense. Sort of, anyway. You didnt answer my question, Dinky said. Whats a Dandelo? Just a word I saw written on the wall in Thunderclap Station. It probably doesnt mean anything. SEVENTEEN Outside Corbett Hall, a delegation of Breakers waited. They looked grim and frightened. D for Dandelo, Jake thought. D for Discordia. Also D for desperate. Roland faced them with his arms folded over his chest. Who speaks for you? he asked. If one speaks, let him come forward now, for our time here is up. A grayhaired gentlemananother bankerlylooking fellow, in truth  stepped forward. He was wearing gray suitpants, a white shirt open at the collar, and a gray vest, also open. The vest sagged. So did the man wearing it. Youve taken our lives from us, he said. He spoke these words with a kind of morose satisfactionas if hed always known it would come to this (or something like this). The lives we knew. What will you give back in return, Mr. Gilead? There was a rumble of approval at this. Jake Chambers heard it and was suddenly more angry than ever before in his life. His hand, seemingly of its own accord, stole to the handle of the Coyote machinepistol, caressed it, and found a cold comfort in its shape. Even a brief respite from grief. And Roland knew, for he reached behind him without looking and put his hand on top of Jakes. He squeezed until Jake let loose of the gun. Ill tell you what Ill give, since you ask, Roland said. I meant to have this place, where you have fed on the brains of helpless children in order to destroy the universe, burned to the ground; aye, every stick of it. I intended to set certain flying balls that have come into our possession to explode, and blow apart anything that would not burn. I intended to point you the way to the River Whye and the green Callas which lie beyond it, and set you on with a curse my father taught me may you live long, but not in good health. A resentful murmur greeted this, but not an eye met Rolands own. The man who had agreed to speak for them (and even in his rage, Jake gave him points for courage) was swaying on his feet, as if he might soon faint away. The Callas still lie in that direction, Roland said, and pointed. If you go, somemany, evenmay die on the way, for there are animals out there that are hungry, and what water there is may be poison. Ive no doubt the Callafolken will know who you are and what youve been about even if you lie, for they have the Manni among them and the Manni see much. Yet you may find forgiveness there rather than death, for the capacity for forgiveness in the hearts of such people is beyond the capacity of hearts such as yours to understand. Or mine, for that matter. That they would put you to work and that the rest of your lives would pass not in the comfort youve known but in toil and sweat I have no doubt, yet I urge you to go, if only to find some redemption for what you have done. We didnt know what we were doing, ye chary man! a woman in the back yelled furiously. YOU KNEW! Jake shouted back, screaming so loudly that he saw black dots in front of his eyes, and Rolands hand was once again instantly over his to stay his draw. Would he actually have sprayed the crowd with the Coyote, bringing more death to this terrible place? He didnt know. What he did know was that a gunslingers hands were sometimes not under his control once a weapon was in them. Dont you dare say you didnt! You knew! Ill give this much, may it do ya, Roland said. My friends and Ithose who survive, although Im sure the one who lies dead yonder would agree, which is why I speak as I dowill let this place stand. Theres food enough to see you through the rest of your lives, I have no doubt, and robots to cook it and wash your clothes and even wipe your asses, if thats what you think you need. If you prefer purgatory to redemption, then stay here. Were I you, Id make the trek instead. Follow the railroad tracks out of the shadows. Tell them what you did before they can tell you, and get on your knees with your heads bared, and beg their forgiveness. Never! someone shouted adamantly, but Jake thought some of the others looked unsure. As you will, said Roland. Ive spoken my last word on it, and the next who speaks back to me may remain silent ever after, for one of my friends is preparing another, her husband, to lie in the ground and I am full of grief and rage. Would you speak more? Would you dare my rage? If so, you dare this. He drew his gun and laid it in the hollow of his shoulder. Jake stepped up beside him, at last drawing his own. There was a moment of silence, and then the man who had spoken turned away. Dont shoot us, mister, youve done enough, someone said bitterly. Roland made no reply and the crowd began to disperse. Some went running, and the others caught that like a cold. They fled in silence, except for a few who were weeping, and soon the dark had swallowed them up. Wow, Dinky said. His voice was soft and respectful. Roland, Ted said. What they did wasnt entirely their fault. I thought I had explained that, but I guess I didnt do a very good job. Roland holstered his revolver. You did an excellent job, he said. Thats why theyre still alive. Now they had the Damli House end of the Mall to themselves again, and Sheemie limped up to Roland. His eyes were round and solemn. Will you show me where youd go, dear? he asked. Can you show me the place? The place. Roland had been so fixed on the when that hed scarcely thought of the where. And his memories of the road they had traveled in Lovell were pretty skimpy. Eddie had been driving John Cullums car, and Roland had been deep in his own thoughts, concentrating on the things he would say to convince the caretaker to help them. Did Ted show you a place before you sent him on? he asked Sheemie. Aye, so he did. Only he didnt know he was showing me. It was a babypicture I dont know how to tell you, exactly  stupid head! Full of cobwebbies! Sheemie made a fist and clouted himself between the eyes. Roland took the hand before Sheemie could hit himself again and unrolled the fingers. He did this with surprising gentleness. No, Sheemie. I think I understand. You found a thought a memory from when he was a little boy. Ted had come over to them. Of course that must be it, he said. I dont know why I didnt see it before now. Too simple, maybe. I grew up in Milford, and the place where I came out in 1960 was barely a spit from there in geographical terms. Sheemie must have found a memory of a carriageride, or maybe a trip on the Hartford Trolley to see my Uncle Jim and Aunt Molly in Bridgeport. Something in my subconscious. He shook his head. I knew the place where I came out looked familiar, but of course it was years later. The Merritt Parkway wasnt there when I was a boy. Can you show me a picture like that? Sheemie asked Roland hopefully. Roland thought once more of the place in Lovell where theyd parked on Route 7, the place where hed called Chevin of Chayven out of the woods, but it simply wasnt sure enough; there was no landmark that made the place only itself and no other. Not one that he remembered, anyway. Then another idea came. One that had to do with Eddie. Sheemie! Aye, Roland of Gilead, Will Dearborn that was! Roland reached out and placed his hands on the sides of Sheemies head. Close your eyes, Sheemie, son of Stanley. Sheemie did as he was told, then reached out his own hands and grasped the sides of Rolands head. Roland closed his own eyes. See what I see, Sheemie, he said. See where we would go. See it very well. And Sheemie did. EIGHTEEN While they stood there, Roland projecting and Sheemie seeing, Dani Rostov softly called to Jake. Once he was before her she hesitated, as if unsure what she would say or do. He began to ask her, but before he could, she stopped his mouth with a kiss. Her lips were amazingly soft. Thats for good luck, she said, and when she saw his look of amazement and understood the power of what she had done, her timidity lessened. She put her arms around his neck (still holding her scuffed Pooh Bear in one hand; he felt it soft against his back) and did it again. He felt the push of her tiny, hard breasts and would remember the sensation for the rest of his life. Would remember her for the rest of his life. And thats for me. She retreated to Ted Brautigans side, eyes downcast and cheeks burning red, before he could speak. Not that he could have, even if his life had depended upon it. His throat was locked shut. Ted looked at him and smiled. You judge the rest of them by the first one, he said. Take it from me. I know. Jake could still say nothing. She might have punched him in the head instead of kissing him on the lips. He was that dazed. NINETEEN Fifteen minutes later, four men, one girl, a billybumbler, and one dazed, amazed (and very tired) boy stood on the Mall. They seemed to have the grassy quad to themselves; the rest of the Breakers had disappeared completely. From where he stood, Jake could see the lighted window on the first floor of Corbett Hall where Susannah was tending to her man. Thunder rumbled. Ted spoke now as he had in Thundercap Stations office closet, where the red blazers brass tag read HEAD OF SHIPPING, back when Eddies death had been unthinkable Join hands. And concentrate. Jake started to reach for Dani Rostovs hand, but Dinky shook his head, smiling a little. Maybe you can hold hands with her another day, hero, but right now youre the monkey in the middle. And your dinhs another one. You hold hands with each other, Sheemie said. There was a quiet authority in his voice that Jake hadnt heard before. Thatll help. Jake tucked Oy into his shirt. Roland, were you able to show Sheemie Look, Roland said, taking his hands. The others now made a tight circle around them. Look. I think youll see. A brilliant seam opened in the darkness, obliterating Sheemie and Ted from Jakes view. For a moment it trembled and darkened, and Jake thought it would disappear. Then it grew bright again and spread wider. He heard, very faintly (the way you heard things when you were underwater), the sound of a car or truck passing in that other world. And saw a building with a small asphalt lot in front of it. Three cars and a pickup truck were parked there. Daylight! he thought, dismayed. Because if time never ran backward in the Keystone World, that meant that time had slipped. If that was Keystone World, then it was Saturday, the nineteenth of June, in the year Quick! Ted shouted from the other side of that brilliant hole in reality. If youre going, go now! Hes going to faint! If youre going Roland yanked Jake forward, his purse bouncing on his back as he did so. Wait! Jake wanted to shout. Wait, I forgot my stuff! But it was too late. There was the sensation of big hands squeezing his chest, and he felt all the air whoosh out of his lungs. He thought, Pressure change. There was a sensation of falling up and then he was reeling onto the pavement of the parking lot with his shadow tacked to his heels, squinting and grimacing, wondering in some distant part of his mind how long it had been since his eyes had been exposed to plain old natural daylight. Not since entering the Doorway Cave in pursuit of Susannah, maybe. Very faintly he heard someonehe thought it was the girl who had kissed himcall Good luck, and then it was gone. Thunderclap was gone, and the DevarToi, and the darkness. They were Americaside, in the parking lot of the place to which Rolands memory and Sheemies powerboosted by the other four Breakershad taken them. It was the East Stoneham General Store, where Roland and Eddie had been ambushed by Jack Andolini. Only unless there had been some horrible error, that had been twentytwo years earlier. This was June 19th of 1999, and the clock in the window (ITS ALWAYS TIME FOR BOARS HEAD MEATS! was written in a circle around the face) said it was nineteen minutes of four in the afternoon. Time was almost up.  CHAPTER I MRS. TASSENBAUM DRIVES SOUTH  ONE The fact of his own almost unearthly speed of hand never occurred to Jake Chambers. All he knew was that when he staggered out of the DevarToi and back into America, his shirtbelled out into a pregnant curve by Oys weightwas pulling out of his jeans. The bumbler, who never had much luck when it came to passing between the worlds (hed nearly been squashed by a taxicab the last time), tumbled free. Almost anyone else in the world would have been unable to prevent that fall (and in fact it very likely wouldnt have hurt Oy at all), but Jake wasnt almost anyone. Ka had wanted him so badly that it had even found its way around death to put him at Rolands side. Now his hands shot out with a speed so great that they momentarily blurred away to nothing. When they reappeared, one was curled into the thick shag at the nape of Oys neck and the other into the shorter fur at the rump end of his long back. Jake set his friend down on the pavement. Oy looked up at him and gave a single short bark. It seemed to express not one idea but two thanks, and dont do that again. Come on, Roland said. We have to hurry. Jake followed him toward the store, Oy falling in at his accustomed place by the boys left heel. There was a sign hanging in the door from a little rubber suction cup. It read WERE OPEN, SO COME IN N VISIT, just as it had in 1977. Taped in the window to the left of the door was this COME ONE COME ALL TO THE 1st CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH BEANHOLE BEAN SUPPER Saturday June 19th, 1999 Intersection Route 7  Klatt Road PARISH HOUSE (In Back) 5 PM730 PM AT 1st CONGO WERE ALWAYS GLAD TO SEEYA, NAYBAH! Jake thought, The bean supper will be starting in an hour or so. Theyll already be putting down the tablecloths and setting the places. Taped to the right of the door was a more startling message to the public 1st LovellStoneham Church of the WalkIns Will YOU join us for Worship? Sunday services 10 AM Thursday services 7 PM EVERY WEDNESDAY IS YOUTH NIGHT!!! 79 PM! Games! Music! Scripture! AND NEWS OF WALKINS! Hey, Teens! Be There or Be Square!!! We Seek the Doorway to HeavenWill You Seek With Us? Jake found himself thinking of Harrigan, the streetpreacher on the corner of Second Avenue and Fortysixth Street, and wondering to which of these two churches he might have been attracted. His head might have told him First Congo, but his heart Hurry, Jake, Roland repeated, and there was a jingle as the gunslinger opened the door. Good smells wafted out, reminding Jake (as they had reminded Eddie) of Tooks on the Calla high street coffee and peppermint candy, tobacco and salami, olive oil, the salty tang of brine, sugar and spice and most things nice. He followed Roland into the store, aware that he had brought at least two things with him, after all. The Coyote machinepistol was stuffed into the waistband of his jeans, and the bag of Orizas was still slung over his shoulder, hanging on his left side so that the half a dozen plates remaining inside would be within easy reach of his right hand. TWO Wendell Chip McAvoy was at the deli counter, weighing up a pretty sizable order of sliced honeycured turkey for Mrs. Tassenbaum, and until the bell over the door rang, once more turning Chips life upside down (Youve turned turtle, the oldtimers used to say when your car rolled in the ditch), they had been discussing the growing presence of Jet Skis on Keywadin Pond  or rather Mrs. Tassenbaum had been discussing it. Chip thought Mrs. T. was a more or less typical summer visitor rich as Croesus (or at least her husband, who had one of those new dotcom businesses, was), gabby as a parrot loaded on whiskey, and as crazy as Howard Hughes on a morphine toot. She could afford a cabin cruiser (and two dozen Jet Skis to pull it, if she fancied), but she came down to the market on this end of the lake in a battered old rowboat, tying up right about where John Cullum used to tie his up, until That Day (as the years had refined his story to ever greater purity, burnishing it like an oftpolished piece of teak furniture, Chip had come more and more to convey its capitalletter status with his voice, speaking of That Day in the same reverential tones the Reverend Conveigh used when speaking of Our Lord). La Tassenbaum was talky, meddlesome, goodlooking (kinda  he supposed  if you didnt mind the makeup and the hairspray), loaded with green, and a Republican. Under the circumstances, Chip McAvoy felt perfectly justified in sneaking his thumb onto the corner of the scale  a trick he had learned from his father, who had told him you practically had a duty to rook folks from away if they could afford it, but you must never rook folks from the home place, not even if they were as rich as that writer, King, from over in Lovell. Why? Because word got around, and the next thing you knew, outoftown custom was all a man had to get by on, and try doing that in the month of February when the snowbanks on the sides of Route 7 were nine feet high. This wasnt February, however, and Mrs. Tassenbauma Daughter of Abraham if he had ever seen onewas not from these parts. No, Mrs. Tassenbaum and her richasCroesus dotcom husband would be gone back to Jew York as soon as they saw the first colored leaf fall. Which was why he felt perfectly comfortable in turning her sixdollar order of turkey into seven dollars and eighty cents with the ball of his thumb on the scale. Nor did it hurt to agree with her when she switched topics and started talking about what a terrible man that Bill Clinton was, although in fact Chip had voted twice for Bubba and would have voted for him a third time, had the Constitution allowed him to run for another term. Bubba was smart, he was good at persuading the ragheads to do what he wanted, he hadnt entirely forgotten the working man, and by the Lord Harry he got more pussy than a toilet seat. And now Gore expects to just  ride in on his coattails! Mrs. Tassenbaum said, digging for her checkbook (the turkey on the scale magically gained another two ounces, and there Chip felt it prudent to lock it in). Claims he invented the Internet! Huh! I know better! In fact, I know the man who really did invent the Internet! She looked up (Chips thumb now nowhere near the scales, he had an instinct about such things, damned if he didnt) and gave Chip a roguish little smile. She lowered her voice into its confidential justwetwo register. I ought to, Ive been sleeping in the same bed with him for almost twenty years! Chip gave a hearty laugh, took the sliced turkey off the scale, and put it on a piece of white paper. He was glad to leave the subject of Jet Skis behind, as he had one on order from Viking Motors (The Boys with the Toys) in Oxford himself. I know what you mean! That fella Gore, too slick! Mrs. Tassenbaum was nodding enthusiastically, and so Chip decided to lay on a little more. Never hurt, by Christ. His hair, for instancehow can you trust a man who puts that much goo in his That was when the bell over the door jingled. Chip looked up. Saw. And froze. A goddamned lot of water had gone under the bridge since That Day, but Wendell Chip McAvoy knew the man whod caused all the trouble the moment he stepped through the door. Some faces you simply never forgot. And hadnt he always known, deep in his hearts most secret place, that the man with the terrible blue eyes hadnt finished his business and would be back? Back for him? That idea broke his paralysis. Chip turned and ran. He got no more than three steps along the inside of the counter before a shot rang out, loud as thunder in the storethe place was bigger and fancier than it had been in 77, thank God for his fathers insistence on extravagant insurance coverageand Mrs. Tassenbaum uttered a piercing scream. Three or four people who had been browsing the aisles turned with expressions of astonishment, and one of them hit the floor in a dead faint. Chip had time to register that it was Rhoda Beemer, eldest daughter of one of the two women whod been killed in here on That Day. Then it seemed to him that time had folded back on itself and it was Ruth herself lying there with a can of creamed corn rolling free of one relaxing hand. He heard a bullet buzz over his head like an angry bee and skidded to a stop, hands raised. Dont shoot, mister! he heard himself bawl in the thin, wavering voice of an old man. Take whatevers in the register but dont shoot me! Turn around, said the voice of the man who had turned Chips world turtle on That Day, the man whod almost gotten him killed (hed been in the hospital over in Bridgton for two weeks, by the living Jesus) and had now reappeared like an old monster from some childs closet. The rest of you on the floor, but you turn around, shopkeeper. Turn around and see me. See me very well. THREE The man swayed from side to side, and for a moment Roland thought he would faint instead of turning. Perhaps some survivaloriented part of his brain suggested that fainting was more likely to get him killed, for the shopkeeper managed to keep his feet and did finally turn and face the gunslinger. His dress was eerily similar to what hed been wearing the last time Roland was here; it could have been the same black tie and butchers apron, tied up high on his midriff. His hair was still slicked back along his skull, but now it was wholly white instead of saltandpepper. Roland remembered the way blood had dashed back from the left side of the shopkeepers temple as a bulletone fired by Andolini himself, for all the gunslinger knewgrooved him. Now there was a grayish knot of scartissue there. Roland guessed the man combed his hair in a way that would display that mark rather than hide it. Hed either had a fools luck that day or been saved by ka. Roland thought ka the more likely. Judging from the sick look of recognition in the shopkeepers eyes, he thought so, too. Do you have a cartomobile, a truckomobile, or a tacksee? Roland asked, holding the barrel of his gun on the shopkeepers middle. Jake stepped up beside Roland. What are you driving? he asked the shopkeeper. Thats what he means. Truck! the shopkeeper managed. International Harvester pickup! Its outside in the lot! He reached under his apron so suddenly that Roland came within an ace of shooting him. The shopkeepermercifullydidnt seem to notice. All of the stores customers were now lying prone, including the woman whod been at the counter. Roland could smell the meat she had been in the process of trading for, and his stomach rumbled. He was tired, hungry, overloaded with grief, and there were too many things to think about, too many by far. His mind couldnt keep up. Jake would have said he needed to take a timeout, but he didnt see any timeouts in their immediate future. The shopkeeper was holding out a set of keys. His fingers were trembling, and the keys jingled. The lateafternoon sun slanting in the windows struck them and bounced complicated reflections into the gunslingers eyes. First the man in the white apron had plunged a hand out of sight without asking permission (and not slowly); now this, holding up a bunch of reflective metal objects as if to blind his adversary. It was as if he were trying to get killed. But it had been that way on the day of the ambush, too, hadnt it? The storekeeper (quicker on his feet then, and without that widowers hump in his back) had followed him and Eddie from place to place like a cat who wont stop getting under your feet, seemingly oblivious to the bullets flying all around them (just as hed seemed oblivious of the one that grooved the side of his head). At one point, Roland remembered, he had talked about his son, almost like a man in a barbershop making conversation while he waits his turn to sit under the scissors. A kamai, then, and such were often safe from harm.