7 By the time they reached Adair, he was telling John how the Overlooks boiler had exploded, and how the old hotel had burned to the ground in a driving blizzard. Adair was a twostoplight town, but there was a Holiday Inn Express, and Dan noted the location. Thats where well be checking in a couple of hours from now, he told John. We cant go digging for treasure in broad daylight, and besides, Im dead for sleep. Havent been getting much lately. All that really happened to you? John asked in a subdued voice. It really did. Dan smiled. Think you can believe it? If we find the baseball glove where she says it is, Ill have to believe a lot of things. Why did you tell me? Because part of you thinks were crazy to be here, in spite of what you know about Abra. Also because you deserve to know that there are . . . forces. Ive encountered them before; you havent. All youve seen is a little girl who can do assorted psychic parlor tricks like hanging spoons on the ceiling. This isnt a boys treasure hunt game, John. If the True Knot finds out what were up to, well be pinned to the target right along with Abra Stone. If you decided to bail on this business, Id make the sign of the cross in front of you and say go with God. And continue on by yourself. Dan tipped him a grin. Well . . . theres Billy. Billys seventythree if hes a day. Hed say thats a plus. Billy likes to tell people that the good thing about being old is that you dont have to worry about dying young. John pointed. Freeman town line. He gave Dan a small, tight smile. I cant completely believe Im doing this. What are you going to think if that ethanol plant is gone? If its been torn down since Google Earth snapped its picture, and planted over with corn? Itll still be there, Dan said. 8 And so it was a series of sootgray concrete blocks roofed in rusty corrugated metal. One smokestack still stood; two others had fallen and lay on the ground like broken snakes. The windows had been smashed and the walls were covered in blotchy spraypaint graffiti that would have been laughed at by the pro taggers in any big city. A potholed service road split off from the twolane, ending in a parking lot that had sprouted with errant seed corn. The water tower Abra had seen stood nearby, rearing against the horizon like an H. G. Wells Martian war machine. FREEMAN, IOWA was printed on the side. The shed with the broken roof was also present and accounted for. Satisfied? Dan asked. They had slowed to a crawl. Factory, water tower, shed, No Trespassing sign. All just like she said it would be. John pointed to the rusty gate at the end of the service road. What if thats locked? I havent climbed a chainlink fence since I was in junior high. It wasnt locked when killers brought that kid here, or Abra would have said. Are you sure of that? A farm truck was coming the other way. Dan sped up a little and lifted a hand as they passed. The guy behind the wheelgreen John Deere cap, sunglasses, bib overallsraised his in return but hardly glanced at them. That was a good thing. I asked if I know what you asked, Dan said. If its locked, well deal with it. Somehow. Now lets go back to that motel and check in. Im whipped. 9 While John got adjoining rooms at the Holiday Innpaying cashDan sought out the Adair True Value Hardware. He bought a spade, a rake, two hoes, a garden trowel, two pairs of gloves, and a duffel to hold his new purchases. The only tool he actually wanted was the spade, but it seemed best to buy in bulk. What brings you to Adair, may I ask? the clerk asked as he rang up Dans stuff. Just passing through. My sisters in Des Moines, and shes got quite the garden patch. She probably owns most of this stuff, but presents always seem to improve her hospitality. I hear that, brother. And shell thank you for this shorthandle hoe. No tool comes in handier, and most amateur gardeners never think to get one. We take MasterCard, Visa I think Ill give the plastic a rest, Dan said, taking out his wallet. Just give me a receipt for Uncle Sugar. You bet. And if you give me your name and addressor your sisterswell send our catalogue. You know what, Im going to pass on that today, Dan said, and put a little fan of twenties on the counter. 10 At eleven oclock that night, there came a soft rap on Dans door. He opened it and let John inside. Abras pediatrician was pale and keyedup. Did you sleep? Some, Dan said. You? In and out. Mostly out. Im nervous as a goddam cat. If a cop stops us, what are we going to say? That we heard there was a juke joint in Freeman and decided to go looking for it. Theres nothing in Freeman but corn. About nine billion acres of it. We dont know that, Dan said mildly. Were just passing through. Besides, no cops going to stop us, John. Nobodys even going to notice us. But if you want to stay here I didnt come halfway across the country to sit in a motel watching Jay Leno. Just let me use the toilet. I used mine before I left the room, but now I need to go again. Christ, am I nervous. The drive to Freeman seemed very long to Dan, but once they left Adair behind, they didnt meet a single car. Farmers went to bed early, and they were off the trucking routes. When they reached the ethanol plant, Dan doused the rental cars lights, turned in to the service road, and rolled slowly up to the closed gate. The two men got out. John cursed when the Fords dome light came on. I should have turned that thing off before we left the motel. Or smashed the bulb, if it doesnt have a switch. Relax, Dan said. Theres no one out here but us chickens. Still, his heart was beating hard in his chest as they walked to the gate. If Abra was right, a little boy had been murdered and buried out here after being miserably tortured. If ever a place should be haunted John tried the gate, and when pushing didnt work, he tried pulling. Nothing. What now? Climb, I guess. Im willing to try, but Ill probably break my fucking Wait. Dan took a penlight from his jacket pocket and shone it on the gate, first noting the broken padlock, then the heavy twists of wire above and below it. He went back to the car, and it was his turn to wince when the trunk light came on. Well, shit. You couldnt think of everything. He yanked out the new duffel, and slammed the trunk lid down. Dark returned. Here, he told John, holding out a pair of gloves. Put these on. Dan put on his own, untwisted the wire, and hung both pieces in one of the chainlink diamonds for later reference. Okay, lets go. I have to pee again. Oh, man. Hold it. 11 Dan drove the Hertz Ford slowly and carefully around to the loading dock. There were plenty of potholes, some deep, all hard to see with the headlights off. The last thing in the world he wanted was to drop the Focus into one and smash an axle. Behind the plant, the surface was a mixture of bare earth and crumbling asphalt. Fifty feet away was another chainlink fence, and beyond that, endless leagues of corn. The dock area wasnt as big as the parking lot, but it was plenty big. Dan? How will we know where Be quiet. Dan bent his head until his brow touched the steering wheel and closed his eyes. (Abra) Nothing. She was asleep, of course. Back in Anniston it was already Wednesday morning. John sat beside him, chewing his lips. (Abra) A faint stirring. It could have been his imagination. Dan hoped it was more. (ABRA!) Eyes opened in his head. There was a moment of disorientation, a kind of double vision, and then Abra was looking with him. The loading dock and the crumbled remains of the smokestacks were suddenly clearer, even though there was only starlight to see by. Her visions a hell of a lot better than mine. Dan got out of the car. So did John, but Dan barely noticed. He had ceded control to the girl who was now lying awake in her bed eleven hundred miles away. He felt like a human metal detector. Only it wasnt metal that hetheywere looking for. (walk over to that concrete thing) Dan walked to the loading dock and stood with his back to it. (now start going back and forth) A pause as she hunted for a way to clarify what she wanted. (like on CSI) He coursed fifty feet or so to the left, then turned right, moving out from the dock on opposing diagonals. John had gotten the spade out of the duffel bag and stood by the rental car, watching. (here is where they parked their RVs) Dan cut back left again, walking slowly, occasionally kicking a loose brick or chunk of concrete out of his way. (youre close) Dan stopped. He smelled something unpleasant. A gassy whiff of decay. (Abra? do you) (yes oh God Dan) (take it easy hon) (you went too far turn around go slow) Dan turned on one heel, like a soldier doing a sloppy aboutface. He started back toward the loading dock. (left a little to your left slower) He went that way, now pausing after each small step. Here was that smell again, a little stronger. Suddenly the preternaturally sharp nighttime world began to blur as his eyes filled with Abras tears. (there the baseball boy youre standing right on top of him) Dan took a deep breath and wiped at his cheeks. He was shivering. Not because he was cold, but because she was. Sitting up in her bed, clutching her lumpy stuffed rabbit, and shaking like an old leaf on a dead tree. (get out of here Abra) (Dan are you) (yes fine but you dont need to see this) Suddenly that absolute clarity of vision was gone. Abra had broken the connection, and that was good. Dan? John called, low. All right? Yes. His voice was still clogged with Abras tears. Bring that spade. 12 It took them twenty minutes. Dan dug for the first ten, then passed the spade to John, who actually found Brad Trevor. He turned away from the hole, covering his mouth and nose. His words were muffled but understandable. Okay, theres a body. Jesus! You didnt smell it before? Buried that deep, and after two years? Are you saying that you did? Dan didnt reply, so John addressed the hole again, but without conviction this time. He stood for a few seconds with his back bent as if he still meant to use the spade, then straightened and drew back when Dan shone the penlight into the little excavation they had made. I cant, he said. I thought I could, but I cant. Not with . . . that. My arms feel like rubber. Dan handed him the light. John shone it into the hole, centering the beam on what had freaked him out a dirtclotted sneaker. Working slowly, not wanting to disturb the earthly remains of Abras baseball boy any more than necessary, Dan scraped dirt away from the sides of the body. Little by little, an earthcovered shape emerged. It reminded him of the carvings on sarcophagi he had seen in National Geographic. The smell of decay was now very strong. Dan stepped away and hyperventilated, ending with the deepest breath he could manage. Then he dropped into the end of the shallow grave, where both of Brad Trevors sneakers now protruded in a V. He kneewalked up to about where he thought the boys waist must be, then held up a hand for the penlight. John handed it over and turned away. He was sobbing audibly. Dan clamped the slim flashlight between his lips and began brushing away more dirt. A childs tshirt came into view, clinging to a sunken chest. Then hands. The fingers, now little more than bones wrapped in yellow skin, were clasped over something. Dans chest was starting to pound for air now, but he pried the Trevor boys fingers apart as gently as he could. Still, one of them snapped with a dry crunching sound. They had buried him holding his baseball glove to his chest. Its lovingly oiled pocket was full of squirming bugs. The air escaped Dans lungs in a shocked whoosh, and the breath he inhaled to replace it was rich with rot. He lunged out of the grave to his right, managing to vomit on the dirt theyd taken out of the hole instead of on the wasted remains of Bradley Trevor, whose only crime had been to be born with something a tribe of monsters wanted. And had stolen from him on the very wind of his dying shrieks. 13 They reburied the body, John doing most of the work this time, and covered the spot with a makeshift crypt of broken asphalt chunks. Neither of them wanted to think of foxes or stray dogs feasting on what scant meat was left. When they were done, they got back into the car and sat without speaking. At last John said, What are we going to do about him, Danno? We cant just leave him. Hes got parents. Grandparents. Probably brothers and sisters. All of them still wondering. He has to stay awhile. Long enough so nobodys going to say, Gee, that anonymous call came in just after some stranger bought a spade in the Adair hardware store. That probably wouldnt happen, but we cant take the chance. How longs awhile? Maybe a month. John considered this, then sighed. Maybe even two. Give his folks that long to go on thinking he might just have run off. Give them that long before we break their hearts. He shook his head. If Id had to look at his face, I dont think I ever could have slept again. Youd be surprised what a person can live with, Dan said. He was thinking of Mrs. Massey, now safely stored away in the back of his head, her haunting days over. He started the car, powered down his window, and beat the baseball glove several times against the door to dislodge the dirt. Then he put it on, sliding his fingers into the places where the childs had been on so many sunlit afternoons. He closed his eyes. After thirty seconds or so, he opened them again. Anything?  Youre Barry. Youre one of the good guys.  What does that mean? I dont know, except Im betting hes the one Abra calls Barry the Chunk. Nothing else? Abra will be able to get more. Are you sure of that? Dan thought of the way his vision had sharpened when Abra opened her eyes inside his head. I am. Shine your light on the pocket of the glove for a sec, will you? Theres something written there. John did it, revealing a childs careful printing THOME 25. What does that mean? John asked. I thought his name was Trevor. Jim Thomes a baseball player. His number is twentyfive. He stared into the pocket of the glove for a moment, then laid it gently on the seat between them. He was that kids favorite Major Leaguer. He named his glove after him. Im going to get these fuckers. I swear before God Almighty, Im going to get them and make them sorry. 14 Rose the Hat shonethe entire True shonebut not in the way Dan or Billy did. Neither Rose nor Crow had any sense, as they said their goodbyes, that the child they had taken years ago in Iowa was at that moment being uncovered by two men who knew far too much about them already. Rose could have caught the communications flying between Dan and Abra if she had been in a state of deep meditation, but of course then the little girl would have noticed her presence immediately. Besides, the goodbyes going on in Roses EarthCruiser that night were of an especially intimate sort. She lay with her fingers laced together behind her head and watched Crow dress. You visited that store, right? District X? Not me personally, I have a reputation to protect. I sent Jimmy Numbers. Crow grinned as he buckled his belt. He couldve gotten what we needed in fifteen minutes, but he was gone for two hours. I think Jimmys found a new home. Well, thats good. I hope you boys enjoy yourselves. Trying to keep it light, but after two days of mourning Grampa Flick, climaxed by the circle of farewell, keeping anything light was an effort. He didnt get anything that compares to you. She raised her eyebrows. Had a preview, did you, Henry? Didnt need one. He eyed her as she lay naked with her hair spread out in a dark fan. She was tall, even lying down. He had ever liked tall women. Youre the feature attraction in my home theater and always will be. Overblownjust a bit of Crows patented razzledazzlebut it pleased her just the same. She got up and pressed against him, her hands in his hair. Be careful. Bring everyone back. And bring her. We will. Then you better get a wiggle on. Relax. Well be in Sturbridge when EZ Mail Services opens on Friday morning. In New Hampshire by noon. By then, Barry will have located her. As long as she doesnt locate him. Im not worried about that. Fine, Rose thought. Ill worry for both of us. Ill worry until Im looking at her wearing cuffs on her wrists and clamps on her ankles. The beauty of it, Crow said, is that if she does sense us and tries to put up an interference wall, Barry will key on that. If shes scared enough, she might go to the police. He flashed a grin. You think? Yes, little girl, theyd say, were sure these awful people are after you. So tell us if theyre from outer space or just your ordinary garden variety zombies. That way well know what to look for.  Dont joke, and dont take this lightly. Get in clean and get out the same way, thats how it has to be. No outsiders involved. No innocent bystanders. Kill the parents if you need to, kill anyone who tries to interfere, but keep it quiet. Crow snapped off a comic salute. Yes, my captain. Get out of here, idiot. But give me another kiss first. Maybe a little of that educated tongue, for good measure. He gave her what she asked for. Rose held him tight, and for a long time. 15 Dan and John rode in silence most of the way back to the motel in Adair. The spade was in the trunk. The baseball glove was in the backseat, wrapped in a Holiday Inn towel. At last John said, Weve got to bring Abras folks into this now. Shes going to hate it and Lucy and David wont want to believe it, but it has to be done. Dan looked at him, straightfaced, and said What are you, a mindreader? John wasnt, but Abra was, and her sudden loud voice in Dans head made him glad that this time John was driving. If he had been behind the wheel, they very likely would have ended up in some farmers cornpatch. (NOOOOO!) Abra. He spoke aloud so that John could hear at least his half of the conversation. Abra, listen to me. (NO, DAN! THEY THINK IM ALL RIGHT! THEY THINK IM ALMOST NORMAL NOW!) Honey, if these people had to kill your mom and dad to get to you, do you think theyd hesitate? I sure dont. Not after what we found back there. There was no counterargument she could make to this, and Abra didnt try . . . but suddenly Dans head was filled with her sorrow and her fear. His eyes welled up again and spilled tears down his cheeks. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 16 Early Thursday morning. Steamhead Steves Winnebago, with Snakebite Andi currently behind the wheel, was cruising eastbound on I80 in western Nebraska at a perfectly legal sixtyfive miles an hour. The first streaks of dawn had just begun to show on the horizon. In Anniston it was two hours later. Dave Stone was in his bathrobe making coffee when the phone rang. It was Lucy, calling from Concettas Marlborough Street condo. She sounded like a woman who had nearly reached the end of her resources. If nothing changes for the worsealthough I guess thats the only way things can change nowtheyll be releasing Momo from the hospital first thing next week. I talked with the two doctors on her case last night. Why didnt you call me, sweetheart? Too tired. And too depressed. I thought Id feel better after a nights sleep, but I didnt get much. Honey, this place is just so full of her. Not just her work, her vitality . . . Her voice wavered. David waited. They had been together for over fifteen years, and he knew that when Lucy was upset, waiting was sometimes better than talking. I dont know what were going to do with it all. Just looking at the books makes me tired. There are thousands on the shelves and stacked in her study, and the super says there are thousands more in storage. We dont have to decide right now. He says theres also a trunk marked Alessandra. That was my mothers real name, you know, although I guess she always called herself Sandra or Sandy. I never knew Momo had her stuff. For someone who let it all hang out in her poetry, Chetta could be one closemouthed lady when she wanted to. Lucy seemed not to hear him, only continued in the same dull, slightly nagging, tiredtodeath tone. Everythings arranged, although Ill have to reschedule the private ambulance if they decide to let her go Sunday. They said they might. Thank God shes got good insurance. That goes back to her teaching days at Tufts, you know. She never made a dime from poetry. Who in this fuckedup country would pay a dime to read it anymore? Lucy Shes got a good place in the main building at Rivington Housea little suite. I took the online tour. Not that shell be using it long. I made friends with the head nurse on her floor here, and she says Momos just about at the end of her Chia, I love you, honey. ThatConcettas old nickname for herfinally stopped her. With all my admittedly nonItalian heart and soul. I know, and thank God you do. This has been so hard, but its almost over. Ill be there Monday at the very latest. We cant wait to see you. How are you? Hows Abra? Were both fine. David would be allowed to go on believing this for another sixty seconds or so. He heard Lucy yawn. I might go back to bed for an hour or two. I think I can sleep now. You do that. Ive got to get Abs up for school. They said their goodbyes, and when Dave turned away from the kitchen wall phone, he saw that Abra was already up. She was still in her pajamas. Her hair was every whichway, her eyes were red, and her face was pale. She was clutching Hoppy, her old stuffed rabbit. AbbaDoo? Honey? Are you sick? Yes. No. I dont know. But you will be, when you hear what Im going to tell you. I need to talk to you, Daddy. And I dont want to go to school today. Tomorrow, either. Maybe not for awhile. She hesitated. Im in trouble. The first thing that phrase brought to mind was so awful that he pushed it away at once, but not before Abra caught it. She smiled wanly. No, Im not pregnant. He stopped on his way to her, halfway across the kitchen, his mouth falling open. You . . . did you just Yes, she said. I just read your mind. Although anyone could have guessed what you were thinking that time, Daddyit was all over your face. And its called shining, not mindreading. I can still do most of the things that used to scare you when I was little. Not all, but most. He spoke very slowly. I know you still sometimes have premonitions. Your mom and I both know. Its a lot more than that. I have a friend. His name is Dan. He and Dr. John have been in Iowa John Dalton? Yes Whos this Dan? Is he a kid Dr. John treats? No, hes a grownup. She took his hand and led him to the kitchen table. There they sat down, Abra still holding Hoppy. But when he was a kid, he was like me. Abs, Im not understanding any of this. There are bad people, Daddy. She knew she couldnt tell him they were more than people, worse than people, until Dan and John were here to help her explain. They might want to hurt me. Why would anyone want to hurt you? Youre not making sense. As for all those things you used to do, if you could still do them, wed kn The drawer below the hanging pots flew open, then shut, then opened again. She could no longer lift the spoons, but the drawer was enough to get his attention. Once I understood how much it worried you guyshow much it scared youI hid it. But I cant hide it anymore. Dan says I have to tell. She pressed her face against Hoppys threadbare fur and began to cry. CHAPTER TWELVE THEY CALL IT STEAM 1 John turned on his cell as soon as he and Dan emerged from the jetway at Logan Airport late Thursday afternoon. He had no more than registered the fact that he had well over a dozen missed calls when the phone rang in his hand. He glanced down at the window. Stone? Dan asked. Ive got a lot of missed calls from the same number, so Id say it has to be. Dont answer. Call him back when were on the expressway north and tell him well be there by Dan glanced at his watch, which he had never changed from Eastern Time. By six. When we get there, well tell him everything. John reluctantly pocketed his cell. I spent the flight back hoping Im not going to lose my license to practice over this. Now Im just hoping the cops dont grab us as soon as we park in front of Dave Stones house. Dan, who had consulted several times with Abra on their way back across the country, shook his head. Shes convinced him to wait, but theres a lot going on in that family just now, and Mr. Stone is one confused American. To this, John offered a smile of singular bleakness. Hes not the only one. 2 Abra was sitting on the front step with her father when Dan swung into the Stones driveway. They had made good time; it was only five thirty. Abra was up before Dave could grab her and came running down the walk with her hair flying out behind her. Dan saw she was heading for him, and handed the towelwrapped fielders mitt to John. She threw herself into his arms. She was trembling all over. (you found him you found him and you found the glove give it to me) Not yet, Dan said, setting her down. We need to thrash this out with your dad first. Thrash what out? Dave asked. He took Abra by the wrist and pulled her away from Dan. Who are these bad people shes talking about? And who the hell are you? His gaze shifted to John, and there was nothing friendly in his eyes. What in the name of sweet Jesus is going on here? This is Dan, Daddy. Hes like me. I told you. John said, Wheres Lucy? Does she know about this? Im not telling you anything until I find out whats going on. Abra said, Shes still in Boston, with Momo. Daddy wanted to call her, but I persuaded him to wait until you got here. Her eyes remained pinned on the towelwrapped glove. Dan Torrance, Dave said. That your name? Yes. You work at the hospice in Frazier? Thats right. How long have you been meeting my daughter? His hands were clenching and unclenching. Did you meet her on the internet? Im betting thats it. He switched his gaze to John. If you hadnt been Abras pediatrician from the day she was born, I would have called the police six hours ago, when you didnt answer your phone. I was in an airplane, John said. I couldnt. Mr. Stone, Dan said. I havent known your daughter as long as John has, but almost. The first time I met her, she was just a baby. And it was she who reached out to me. Dave shook his head. He looked perplexed, angry, and little inclined to believe anything Dan told him. Lets go in the house, John said. I think we can explain everythingalmost everythingand if thats the case, youll be very happy that were here, and that we went to Iowa to do what we did. I damn well hope so, John, but Ive got my doubts. They went inside, Dave with his arm around Abras shouldersat that moment they looked more like jailer and prisoner than father and daughterJohn Dalton next, Dan last. He looked across the street at the rusty red pickup parked there. Billy gave him a quick thumbsup . . . then crossed his fingers. Dan returned the gesture, and followed the others through the front door. 3 As Dave was sitting down in his Richland Court living room with his puzzling daughter and his even more puzzling guests, the Winnebago containing the True raiding party was southeast of Toledo. Walnut was at the wheel. Andi Steiner and Barry were sleepingAndi like the dead, Barry rolling from side to side and muttering. Crow was in the parlor area, paging through The New Yorker. The only things he really liked were the cartoons and the tiny ads for weird items like yakfur sweaters, Vietnamese coolie hats, and faux Cuban cigars. Jimmy Numbers plunked down next to him with his laptop in hand. Ive been combing the net. Had to hack and back with a couple of sites, but . . . can I show you something? How can you surf the net from an interstate highway? Jimmy gave him a patronizing smile. 4G connection, baby. This is the modern age. If you say so. Crow put his magazine aside. Whatve you got? School pictures from Anniston Middle School. Jimmy tapped the touchpad and a photo appeared. No grainy newsprint job, but a highres school portrait of a girl in a red dress with puffed sleeves. Her braided hair was chestnut brown, her smile wide and confident. Julianne Cross, Jimmy said. He tapped the touchpad again and a redhead with a mischievous grin popped up. Emma Deane. Another tap, and an even prettier girl appeared. Blue eyes, blond hair framing her face and spilling over her shoulders. Serious expression, but dimples hinting at a smile. This ones Abra Stone. Abra? Yeah, they name em anything these days. Remember when Jane and Mabel used to be good enough for the rubes? I read somewhere that Sly Stallone named his kid Sage Moonblood, how fucked up is that? You think one of these three is Roses girl. If shes right about the girl being a young teenager, it just about has to be. Probably Deane or Stone, theyre the two who actually live on the street where the little earthquake was, but you cant count the Cross girl out completely. Shes just around the corner. Jimmy Numbers made a swirling gesture on the touchpad and the three pictures zipped into a row. Written below each in curly script was MY SCHOOL MEMORIES. Crow studied them. Is anyone going to tip to the fact that youve been filching pictures of little girls off of Facebook, or something? Because that sets off all kinds of warning bells in Rubeland. Jimmy looked offended. Facebook, my ass. These came from the Frazier Middle School files, pipelined direct from their computer to mine. He made an unlovely sucking sound. And guess what, a guy with access to a whole bank of NSA computers couldnt follow my tracks on this one. Who rocks? You do, Crow said. I guess. Which one do you think it is? If I had to pick . . . Crow tapped Abras picture. Shes got a certain look in her eyes. A steamy look. Jimmy puzzled over this for a moment, decided it was dirty, and guffawed. Does it help? Yes. Can you print these pictures and make sure the others have copies? Particularly Barry. Hes Locator in Chief on this one. Ill do it right now. Im packing a Fujitsu ScanSnap. Great little onthego machine. I used to have the S1100, but I swapped it when I read in Computerworld Just do it, okay? Sure. Crow picked up the magazine again and turned to the cartoon on the last page, the one where you were supposed to fill in the caption. This weeks showed an elderly woman walking into a bar with a bear on a chain. She had her mouth open, so the caption had to be her dialogue. Crow considered carefully, then printed Okay, which one of you assholes called me a cunt? Probably not a winner. The Winnebago rolled on through the deepening evening. In the cockpit, Nut turned on the headlights. In one of the bunks, Barry the Chink turned and scratched at his wrist in his sleep. A red spot had appeared there. 4 The three men sat in silence while Abra went upstairs to get something in her room. Dave thought of suggesting coffeethey looked tired, and both men needed a shavebut decided he wasnt going to offer either of them so much as a dry Saltine until he got an explanation. He and Lucy had discussed what they were going to do when Abra came home some day in the nottoodistant future and announced that a boy had asked her out, but these were men, men, and it seemed that the one he didnt know had been dating his daughter for quite some time. After a fashion, anyway . . . and wasnt that really the question What sort of fashion? Before any of them could risk starting a conversation that was bound to be awkwardand perhaps acrimoniousthere came the muted thunder of Abras sneakers on the stairs. She came into the room with a copy of The Anniston Shopper. Look at the back page. Dave turned the newspaper over and grimaced. Whats this brown dreck? Dried coffee grounds. I threw the newspaper in the trash, but I couldnt stop thinking about it, so I fished it out again. I couldnt stop thinking about him. She pointed to the picture of Bradley Trevor in the bottom row. And his parents. And his brothers and sisters, if he had them. Her eyes filled with tears. He had freckles, Daddy.


He hated them, but his mother said they were good luck. You cant know that, Dave said with no conviction at all. She knows, John said, and so do you. Get with us on this, Dave. Please. Its important. I want to know about you and my daughter, Dave said to Dan. Tell me about that. Dan went through it again. Doodling Abras name in his AA meeting book. The first chalked hello. His clear sense of Abras presence on the night Charlie Hayes died. I asked if she was the little girl who sometimes wrote on my blackboard. She didnt answer in words, but there was a little run of piano music. Some old Beatles tune, I think. Dave looked at John. You told him about that! John shook his head. Dan said, Two years ago I got a blackboard message from her that said, They are killing the baseball boy. I didnt know what it meant, and Im not sure Abra did, either. That might have been the end of it, but then she saw that. He pointed to the back page of The Anniston Shopper with all those postagestamp portraits. Abra told the rest. When she was done, Dave said So you flew to Iowa on a thirteenyearold girls sayso. A very special thirteenyearold girl, John said. With some very special talents. We thought all that was over. Dave shot Abra an accusing look. Except for a few little premonitions, we thought she outgrew it. Im sorry, Daddy. Her voice was little more than a whisper. Maybe she shouldnt have to be sorry, Dan said, hoping he didnt sound as angry as he felt. She hid her ability because she knew you and your wife wanted it to be gone. She hid it because she loves you and wanted to be a good daughter. She told you that, I suppose? We never even discussed it, Dan said. But I had a mother I loved dearly, and because I did, I did the same thing. Abra shot him a look of naked gratitude. As she lowered her eyes again, she sent him a thought. Something she was embarrassed to say out loud. She also didnt want her friends to know. She thought they wouldnt like her anymore. That theyd be scared of her. She was probably right about that, too. Lets not lose sight of the major issue, John said. We flew to Iowa, yes. We found the ethanol plant in the town of Freeman, just where Abra said it would be. We found the boys body. And his glove. He wrote the name of his favorite baseball player in the pocket, but his nameBrad Trevoris written on the strap. He was murdered. Thats what youre saying. By a bunch of wandering lunatics. They ride in campers and Winnebagos, Abra said. Her voice was low and dreamy. She was looking at the towelwrapped baseball glove as she spoke. She was afraid of it, and she wanted to put her hands on it. These conflicting emotions came through to Dan so clearly that they made him feel sick to his stomach. They have funny names, like pirate names. Almost plaintively, Dave asked, Are you sure the kid was murdered? The woman in the hat licked his blood off her hands, Abra said. She had been sitting on the stairs. Now she went to her father and put her face against his chest. When she wants it, she has a special tooth. All of them do. This kid was really like you? Yes. Abras voice was muffled but understandable. He could see through his hand. What does that mean? Like when certain pitches would come, he could hit them because his hand saw them first. And when his mother lost something, hed put his hand over his eyes and look through it to see where the thing was. I think. I dont know that part for sure, but sometimes I use my hand that way. And thats why they killed him? Im sure of it, Dan said. For what? Some kind of ESP vitamin? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? No one replied. And they know Abras on to them? They know. She raised her head. Her cheeks were flushed and wet with tears. They dont know my name or where I live, but they know there is a me. Then we need to go to the police, Dave said. Or maybe . . . I guess wed want the FBI in a case like this. They might have trouble believing it at first, but if the bodys there Dan said, I wont tell you thats a bad idea until we see what Abra can do with the baseball glove, but you need to think pretty carefully about the consequences. For me, for John, for you and your wife, and most of all for Abra. I dont see what kind of trouble you and John could possibly John shifted impatiently in his chair. Come on, David. Who found the body? Who dug it up and then buried it again, after taking a piece of evidence the forensics people would no doubt consider vital? Who brought that piece of evidence halfway across the country so an eighthgrader could use it like a Ouija board? Although he hadnt meant to, Dan joined in. They were ganging up, and in other circumstances he might have felt bad about that, but not in these. Your familys already in crisis, Mr. Stone. Your grandmotherinlaw is dying, your wifes grieving and exhausted. This thing will hit the newspapers and the internet like a bomb. Wandering clan of murderers versus a supposedly psychic little girl. Theyll want her on TV, youll say no, and that will just make them hungrier. Your street will turn into an openair studio, Nancy Grace will probably move in next door, and in a week or two the whole media mob will be yelling hoax at the top of its lungs. Remember Balloon Boy Dad? Thats apt to be you. Meanwhile, these folks will still be out there. So whos supposed to protect my little girl if they come after her? You two? A doctor and a hospice orderly? Or are you just a janitor? You dont even know about the seventythreeyearold groundskeeper standing watch down the street, Dan thought, and had to smile. Im a little of both. Look, Mr. Stone Seeing as how you and my daughter are great pals, I guess you better call me Dave. Okay, Dave it is. I guess what you do next depends on whether or not youre willing to gamble on law enforcement believing her. Especially when she tells them that the Winnebago People are lifesucking vampires. Christ, Dave said. I cant tell Lucy about this. Shell blow a fuse. All her fuses. That would seem to answer the question about whether or not to call the police, John remarked. There was silence for a moment. Somewhere in the house a clock was ticking. Somewhere outside, a dog was barking. The earthquake, Dave said suddenly. That little earthquake. Was that you, Abby? Im pretty sure, she whispered. Dave hugged her, then stood up and took the towel off the baseball glove. He held it, looking it over. They buried him with it, he said. They abducted him, tortured him, murdered him, and then buried him with his baseball glove. Yes, Dan said. Dave turned to his daughter. Do you really want to touch this thing, Abra? She held out her hands and said, No. But give it to me anyway. 5 David Stone hesitated, then handed it over. Abra took it in her hands and looked into the pocket. Jim Thome, she said, and although Dan would have been willing to bet his savings (after twelve years of steady work and steady sobriety, he actually had some) that she had never encountered the name before, she said it correctly Toeme. Hes in the Six Hundred Club. Thats right, Dave said. He Hush, Dan said. They watched her. She raised the glove to her face and sniffed the pocket. (Dan, remembering the bugs, had to restrain a wince.) She said, Not Barry the Chunk, Barry the Chink. Only hes not Chinese. They call him that because his eyes slant up at the corners. Hes their . . . their . . . I dont know . . . wait . . . She held the glove to her chest, like a baby. She began to breathe faster. Her mouth dropped open and she moaned. Dave, alarmed, put a hand on her shoulder. Abra shook him off. No, Daddy, no! She closed her eyes and hugged the glove. They waited. At last her eyes opened and she said, Theyre coming for me. Dan got up, knelt beside her, and put one hand over both of hers. (how many is it some or is it all of them) Just some. Barrys with them. Thats why I can see. There are three others. Maybe four. One is a lady with a snake tattoo. They call us rubes. Were rubes to them. (is the woman with the hat) (no) When will they get here? John asked. Do you know? Tomorrow. They have to stop first and get . . . She paused. Her eyes searched the room, not seeing it. One hand slipped out from beneath Dans and began to rub her mouth. The other clasped the glove. They have to . . . I dont know . . . Tears began to ooze from the corners of her eyes, not of sadness but of effort. Is it medicine? Is it . . . wait, wait, let go of me, Dan, I have to . . . you have to let me . . . He took his hand away. There was a brisk snap and a blue flick of static electricity. The piano played a discordant run of notes. On an occasional table by the door to the hall, a number of ceramic Hummel figures were jittering and rapping. Abra slipped the glove on her hand. Her eyes flew wide open. One is a crow! One is a doctor and thats lucky for them because Barry is sick! Hes sick! She stared around at them wildly, then laughed. The sound of it made Dans neck hairs stiffen. He thought it was the way lunatics must laugh when their medication is late. It was all he could do not to snatch the glove off her hand. Hes got the measles! Hes caught the measles from Grampa Flick and hell start to cycle soon! It was that fucking kid! He must never have gotten the shot! We have to tell Rose! We have to That was enough for Dan. He pulled the glove from her hand and threw it across the room. The piano ceased. The Hummels gave one final clatter and grew still, one of them on the verge of tumbling from the table. Dave was staring at his daughter with his mouth open. John had risen to his feet, but seemed incapable of moving any further. Dan took Abra by the shoulders and gave her a hard shake. Abra, snap out of it. She stared at him with huge, floating eyes. (come back Abra its okay) Her shoulders, which had been almost up to her ears, gradually relaxed. Her eyes were seeing him again. She let out a long breath and fell back against her fathers encircling arm. The collar of her tshirt was dark with sweat. Abby? Dave asked. AbbaDoo? Are you all right? Yes, but dont call me that. She drew in air and let it out in another long sigh. God, that was intense. She looked at her father. I didnt drop the fbomb, Daddy, that was one of them. I think it was the crow. Hes the leader of the ones who are coming. Dan sat down beside Abra on the couch. Sure youre okay? Yes. Now. But I never want to touch that glove again. Theyre not like us. They look like people and I think they used to be people, but now they have lizardy thoughts. You said Barry has measles. Do you remember that? Barry, yes. The one they call the Chink. I remember everything. Im so thirsty. Ill get you water, John said. No, something with sugar in it. Please. There are Cokes in the fridge, Dave said. He stroked Abras hair, then the side of her face, then the back of her neck. As if to reassure himself that she was still there. They waited until John came back with a can of Coke. Abra seized it, drank greedily, then belched. Sorry, she said, and giggled. Dan had never been so happy to hear a giggle in his life. John. Measles are more serious in adults, yes? You bet. It can lead to pneumonia, even blindness, due to corneal scarring. Death? Sure, but its rare. Its different for them, Abra said, because I dont think they usually get sick. Only Barry is. Theyre going to stop and get a package. It must be medicine for him. The kind you give in shots. What did you mean about cycling? Dave asked. I dont know. If Barrys sick, will that stop them? John asked. Will they maybe turn around and go back to wherever they came from? I dont think so. They might already be sick from Barry, and they know it. They have nothing to lose and everything to gain, thats what Crow says. She drank more Coke, holding the can in both hands, then looked around at each of the three men in turn, ending with her father. They know my street. And they might know my name, after all. They might even have a picture. Im not sure. Barrys mind is all messed up. But they think . . . they think if I cant catch the measles . . . Then your essence might be able to cure them, Dan said. Or at least inoculate the others. They dont call it essence, Abra said. They call it steam. Dave clapped his hands once, briskly. Thats it. Im calling the police. Well have these people arrested. You cant. Abra spoke in the dull voice of a depressed fiftyyearold woman. Do what you want, that voice said. Im only telling you. He had taken his cell out of his pocket, but instead of opening it, he held it. Why not? Theyll have a good story for why theyre traveling to New Hampshire and lots of good identity things. Also, theyre rich. Really rich, the way banks and oil companies and Walmart are rich. They might go away, but theyll come back. They always come back for what they want. They kill people who get in their way, and people who try to tell on them, and if they need to buy their way out of trouble, thats what they do. She put her Coke down on the coffee table and put her arms around her father. Please, Daddy, dont tell anybody. Id rather go with them than have them hurt Mom or you. Dan said, But right now there are only four or five of them. Yes. Where are the rest? Do you know that now? At a place called the Bluebird Campground. Or maybe its Bluebell. They own it. Theres a town nearby. Thats where the supermarket is, the Sams. The town is called Sidewinder. Rose is there, and the True. Thats what they call themselves, the . . . Dan? Whats wrong? Dan made no reply. For the moment, at least, he was incapable of speech. He was remembering Dick Halloranns voice coming from Eleanor Ouellettes dead mouth. He had asked Dick where the empty devils were, and now the answer made sense. In your childhood. Dan? That was John. He sounded far away. Youre as white as a sheet. It all made a weird kind of sense. He had known from the firsteven before he actually saw itthat the Overlook Hotel was an evil place. It was gone now, burned flat, but who was to say the evil had also been burned away? Certainly not him. As a child, he had been visited by revenants who had escaped. This campground they ownit stands where the hotel stood. I know it. And sooner or later, Ill have to go back there. I know that, too. Probably sooner. But first Im all right, he said. Want a Coke? Abra asked. Sugar solves lots of problems, thats what I think. Later. I have an idea. Its sketchy, but maybe the four of us working together can turn it into a plan. 6 Snakebite Andi parked in the truckers lot of a turnpike rest area near Westfield, New York. Nut went into the service plaza to get juice for Barry, who was now running a fever and had a painfully sore throat. While they waited for him to come back, Crow put through a call to Rose. She answered on the first ring. He filled her in as quickly as he could, then waited. Whats that I hear in the background? she asked. Crow sighed and rubbed one hand up a stubbled cheek. Thats Jimmy Numbers. Hes crying. Tell him to shut up. Tell him theres no crying in baseball. Crow conveyed this, omitting Roses peculiar sense of humor. Jimmy, at the moment wiping Barrys face with a damp cloth, managed to muffle his loud and (Crow had to admit it) annoying sobs. Thats better, Rose said. What do you want us to do? Give me a second, Im trying to think. Crow found the idea of Rose having to try to think almost as disturbing as the red spots that had now broken out all over Barrys face and body, but he did as he was told, holding the iPhone to his ear but saying nothing. He was sweating. Fever, or just hot in here? Crow scanned his arms for red blemishes and saw none. Yet. Are you on schedule? Rose asked. So far, yes. A little ahead, even. There was a brisk double rap at the door. Andi looked out, then opened it. Crow? Still there? Yes. Nut just came back with some juice for Barry. Hes got a bad sore throat. Try this, Walnut said to Barry, unscrewing the cap. Its apple. Still cold from the cooler. Itll soothe your gullet something grand. Barry got up on his elbows and gulped when Nut tipped the small glass bottle to his lips. Crow found it hard to look at. Hed seen baby lambs drink from nursing bottles in that same weak, Icantdoitmyself way. Can he talk, Crow? If he can, give him the phone. Crow elbowed Jimmy aside and sat down beside Barry. Rose. She wants to talk to you. He attempted to hold the phone next to Barrys ear, but the Chink took it from him. Either the juice or the aspirin Nut had made him swallow seemed to have given him some strength. Rose, he croaked. Sorry about this, darlin. He listened, nodding. I know. I get that. I . . . He listened some more. No, not yet, but . . . yeah. I can. I will. Yeah. I love you, too. Here he is. He handed the phone to Crow, then collapsed back onto the stacked pillows, his temporary burst of strength exhausted. Im here, Crow said. Has he started cycling yet? Crow glanced at Barry. No. Thank God for small favors. He says he can still locate her. I hope hes right. If he cant, youll have to find her yourselves. We have to have that girl. Crow knew she wanted the kidmaybe Julianne, maybe Emma, probably Abrafor her own reasons, and for him that was enough, but there was more at stake. Maybe the Trues continued survival. In a whispered consultation at the back of the Winnebago, Nut had told Crow that the girl had probably never had the measles, but her steam might still serve to protect them, because of the inoculations she would have been given as a baby. It wasnt a sure bet, but a hell of a lot better than no bet at all. Crow? Talk to me, honey. Well find her. He shot the Trues computer maven a look. Jimmys got it narrowed down to three possibles, all in a oneblock radius. Weve got pictures. Thats excellent. She paused, and when she spoke again her voice was lower, warmer, and perhaps the slightest bit shaky. Crow hated the idea of Rose being afraid, but he thought she was. Not for herself, but for the True Knot it was her duty to protect. You know Id never send you on with Barry sick if I didnt think it was absolutely vital. Yeah. Get her, knock her the fuck out, bring her back. Okay? Okay. If the rest of you get sick, if you feel you have to charter a jet and fly her back Well do that, too. But Crow dreaded the prospect. Any of them not sick when they got on the plane would be when they got offequilibrium shot, hearing screwed blue for a month or more, palsy, vomiting. And of course flying left a paper trail. Not good for passengers escorting a drugged and kidnapped little girl. Still needs must when the devil drives. Time you got back on the road, Rose said. You take care of my Barry, big man. The rest of them, too. Is everyone okay at your end? Sure, Rose said, and hung up before he could ask her anything else. That was okay. Sometimes you didnt need telepathy to tell when someone was lying. Even the rubes knew that. He tossed the phone on the table and clapped his hands briskly. Okay, lets gas and go. Next stop, Sturbridge, Massachusetts. Nut, you stick with Barry. Ill drive the next six hours, then youre up, Jimmy. I want to go home, Jimmy Numbers said morosely. He was about to say more, but a hot hand grabbed his wrist before he could. We got no choice about this, Barry said. His eyes were glittering with fever, but they were sane and aware. In that moment, Crow was very proud of him. No choice at all, Computer Boy, so man up. True comes first. Always. Crow sat down behind the wheel and turned the key. Jimmy, he said. Sit with me a minute. Want to have a little gab. Jimmy Numbers sat down in the passenger seat. These three girls, how old are they? Do you know? That and a lot of other stuff. I hacked their school records when I got the pictures. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? Deane and Cross are fourteen. The Stone girl is a year younger. She skipped a grade in elementary school. I find that suggestive of steam, Crow said. Yeah. And they all live in the same neighborhood. Right. I find that suggestive of chumminess. Jimmys eyes were still swollen with tears, but he laughed. Yeah. Girls, yknow. All three of them probably wear the same lipstick and moan over the same bands. Whats your point? No point, Crow said. Just information. Information is power, or so they say. Two minutes later, Steamhead Steves Bago was merging back onto Interstate 90. When the speedometer was pegged at sixtyfive, Crow put on the cruise control and let it ride. 7 Dan outlined what he had in mind, then waited for Dave Stone to respond. For a long time he only sat beside Abra with his head lowered and his hands clasped between his knees. Daddy? Abra asked. Please say something. Dave looked up and said, Who wants a beer? Dan and John exchanged a brief bemused glance and declined. Well, I do. What I really want is a double shot of Jack, but Im willing to stipulate with no input from you gentlemen that sippin whiskey might not be such a good idea tonight. Ill get it, Dad. Abra bounced into the kitchen. They heard the snap of the fliptop and the hiss of the carbonationsounds that brought back memories for Dan, many of them treacherously happy. She returned with a can of Coors and a pilsner glass. Can I pour it? Knock yourself out. Dan and John watched with silent fascination as Abra tilted the glass and slid the beer down the side to minimize the foam, operating with the casual expertise of a good bartender. She handed the glass to her father and set the can on a coaster beside him. Dave took a deep swallow, sighed, closed his eyes, then opened them again. Thats good, he said. I bet it is, Dan thought, and saw Abra watching him. Her face, usually so open, was inscrutable, and for the moment he could not read the thoughts behind it. Dave said, What youre proposing is crazy, but it has its attractions. Chief among them would be a chance to see these . . . creatures . . . with my own eyes. I think I need to, becausein spite of everything youve told meI find it impossible to believe in them. Even with the glove, and the body you say you found. Abra opened her mouth to speak. Her father stayed her with a raised hand. I believe that you believe, he went on. All three of you. And I believe that some group of dangerously deranged individuals mightI say mightbe after my daughter. Id certainly go along with your idea, Mr. Torrance, if it didnt mean bringing Abra. I wont use my kid as bait. You wouldnt have to, Dan said. He was remembering how Abras presence in the loading dock area behind the ethanol plant had turned him into a kind of human cadaver dog, and the way his vision had sharpened when Abra opened her eyes inside his head. He had even cried her tears, although a DNA test might not have shown it. What do you mean? Your daughter doesnt have to be with us to be with us. Shes unique that way. Abra, do you have a friend you could visit tomorrow after school? Maybe even stay with overnight? Sure, Emma Deane. He could see by the excited sparkle in her eyes that she already understood what he had in mind. Bad idea, Dave said. I wont leave her unguarded. Abra was being guarded all the time we were in Iowa, John said. Abras eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped open a little. Dan was glad to see this. He was sure she could have picked his brain any old time she wanted to, but she had done as he asked. Dan took out his cell and speeddialed. Billy? Why dont you come on in here and join the party. Three minutes later, Billy Freeman stepped into the Stone house. He was wearing jeans, a red flannel shirt with tails hanging almost to his knees, and a Teenytown Railroad cap, which he doffed before shaking hands with Dave and Abra. You helped him with his stomach, Abra said, turning to Dan. I remember that. Youve been picking my brains after all, Dan said. She flushed. Not on purpose. Never. Sometimes it just happens. Dont I know it. All respect to you, Mr. Freeman, Dave said, but youre a little old for bodyguard duty, and this is my daughter were talking about. Billy raised his shirttails and revealed an automatic pistol in a battered black holster. Onenineoneone Colt, he said. Full auto. World War II vintage. This is old, too, but itll do the job. Abra? John asked. Do you think bullets can kill these things, or is it only childhood diseases? Abra was looking at the gun. Oh yes, she said. Bullets would work. Theyre not ghostie people. Theyre as real as we are. John looked at Dan and said, I dont suppose you have a gun? Dan shook his head and looked at Billy. Ive got a deer rifle I could loan you, Billy said. That . . . might not be good enough, Dan said. Billy considered. Okay, I know a guy down in Madison. He buys and sells bigger stuff. Some of it much bigger. Oh Jesus, Dave said. This just gets worse. But he didnt say anything else. Dan said, Billy, could we reserve the train tomorrow, if we wanted to have a sunset picnic at Cloud Gap? Sure. People do it all the time, specially after Labor Day, when the rates go down. Abra smiled. It was one Dan had seen before. It was her angry smile. He wondered if the True Knot might have had second thoughts if they knew their target had a smile like that in her repertoire. Good, she said. Good. Abra? Dave looked bewildered and a little frightened. What? Abra ignored him for the moment. It was Dan she spoke to. They deserve it for what they did to the baseball boy. She wiped at her mouth with her cupped hand, as if to erase that smile, but when she pulled the hand away the smile was still there, her thinned lips showing the tips of her teeth. She clenched the hand into a fist. They deserve it. PART THREE MATTERS OF LIFE AND DEATH CHAPTER THIRTEEN CLOUD GAP 1 EZ Mail Services was in a strip mall, between a Starbucks and OReilly Auto Parts. Crow entered just after 10 a.m., presented his Henry Rothman ID, signed for a package the size of a shoebox, and walked back out with it under his arm. In spite of the airconditioning, the Winnebago was rank with the stench of Barrys sickness, but they had grown used to it and hardly smelled it at all. The box bore the return address of a plumbing supply company in Flushing, New York. There actually was such a company, but it had had no hand in this particular delivery. Crow, Snake, and Jimmy Numbers watched as Nut sliced the tape with his Swiss Army Knife and lifted the flaps. He pulled out a wad of inflated plastic packing, then a double fold of cotton fluff. Beneath it, set in Styrofoam, was a large, unlabeled bottle of strawcolored fluid, eight syringes, eight darts, and a skeletal pistol. Holy shit, theres enough stuff there to send her whole class to Middle Earth, Jimmy said. Rose has a great deal of respect for this little chiquita, Crow said. He took the tranquilizer gun out of its Styrofoam cradle, examined it, put it back. We will, too. Crow! Barrys voice was clotted and hoarse. Come here! Crow left the contents of the box to Walnut and went to the man sweating on the bed. Barry was now covered with hundreds of bright red blemishes, his eyes swollen almost shut, his hair matted to his forehead. Crow could feel the fever baking off him, but the Chink was a hell of a lot stronger than Grampa Flick had been. He still wasnt cycling. You guys okay? Barry asked. No fever? No spots? Were fine. Never mind us, you need to rest. Maybe get some sleep. Ill sleep when Im dead, and I aint dead yet. Barrys redstreaked eyes gleamed. Im picking her up. Crow grabbed his hand without thinking about it, reminded himself to wash it with hot water and plenty of soap, then wondered what good that would do. They were all breathing his air, had all taken turns helping him to the jakes. Their hands had been all over him. Do you know which one of the three girls she is? Have you got her name? No. Does she know were coming for her? No. Stop asking questions and let me tell you what I do know. Shes thinking about Rose, thats how I homed in, but shes not thinking about her by name. The woman in the hat with the one long tooth, thats what she calls her. The kids . . . Barry leaned to one side and coughed into a damp handkerchief. The kids afraid of her. She ought to be, Crow said grimly. Anything else? Ham sandwiches. Deviled eggs. Crow waited. Im not sure yet, but I think . . . shes planning a picnic. Maybe with her parents. Theyre going on a . . . toy train? Barry frowned. What toy train? Where? Dont know. Get me closer and I will. Im sure I will. Barrys hand turned in Crows, and suddenly bore down almost hard enough to hurt. She might be able to help me, Daddy. If I can hold on and you can get her . . . hurt her enough to make her breathe out some steam . . . then maybe . . . Maybe, Crow said, but when he looked down he could seejust for a secondthe bones inside Barrys clutching fingers. 2 Abra was extraordinarily quiet at school that Friday. None of the faculty found this strange, although she was ordinarily vivacious and something of a chatterbox. Her father had called the school nurse that morning, and asked if she would tell Abras teachers to take it a bit easy on her. She wanted to go to school, but they had gotten some bad news about Abras greatgrandmother the day before. Shes still processing, Dave said. The nurse said she understood, and would pass on the message. What Abra was actually doing that day was concentrating on being in two places at the same time. It was like simultaneously patting your head and rubbing your stomach hard at first, but not too difficult once you got the hang of it. Part of her had to stay with her physical body, answering the occasional question in class (a veteran handraiser since first grade, today she found it annoying to be called on when she was just sitting with them neatly folded on her desk), talking with her friends at lunch, and asking Coach Rennie if she could be excused from gym and go to the library instead. Ive got a stomachache, she said, which was middleschool femcode for Ive got my period. She was equally quiet at Emmas house after school, but that wasnt a big problem. Emma came from a bookish family, and she was currently reading her way through the Hunger Games for the third time. Mr. Deane tried to chat Abra up when he came home from work, but quit and dove into the latest issue of The Economist when Abra answered in monosyllables and Mrs. Deane gave him a warning look. Abra was vaguely aware of Emma putting her book aside and asking if she wanted to go out in the backyard for awhile, but most of her was with Dan seeing through his eyes, feeling his hands and feet on the controls of The Helen Rivingtons little engine, tasting the ham sandwich he ate and the lemonade he chased it down with. When Dan spoke to her father, it was actually Abra speaking. As for Dr. John? He was riding at the very back of the train, and consequently there was no Dr. John. Just the two of them in the cab, a little fatheranddaughter bonding in the wake of the bad news about Momo, cozy as could be. Occasionally her thoughts turned to the woman in the hat, the one who had hurt the baseball boy until he died and then licked up his blood with her deformed and craving mouth. Abra couldnt help it, but wasnt sure it mattered. If she were being touched by Barrys mind, her fear of Rose wouldnt surprise him, would it? She had an idea she couldnt have fooled the True Knots locator if he had been healthy, but Barry was extremely sick. He didnt know she knew Roses name. It hadnt even occurred to him to wonder why a girl who wouldnt be eligible for a drivers license until 2015 was piloting the Teenytown train through the woods west of Frazier. If it had, he probably would have assumed the train didnt really need a driver. Because he thinks its a toy. Scrabble? Hmmm? She looked around at Emma, at first not even sure where they were. Then she saw she was holding a basketball. Okay, the backyard. They were playing HORSE.


I asked if you wanted to play Scrabble with me and my mom, because this is totally boring. Youre winning, right? Duh! All three games. Are you here at all? Sorry, Im just worried about my momo. Scrabble sounds good. It sounded great, in fact. Emma and her mom were the slowest Scrabble players in the known universe, and would have shit large bricks if anyone had suggested playing with a timer. This would give Abra plenty of opportunity to continue minimizing her presence here. Barry was sick but he wasnt dead, and if he got wise to the fact that Abra was performing a kind of telepathic ventriloquism, the results could be very bad. He might figure out where she really was. Not much longer. Pretty soon theyll all come together. God, please let it go okay. While Emma cleared the crap off the table in the downstairs rec room and Mrs. Deane set up the board, Abra excused herself to use the toilet. She did need to go, but first she made a quick detour into the living room and peeked out the bow window. Billys truck was parked across the street. He saw the curtains twitch and flashed her a thumbsup. Abra returned the gesture. Then the small part of her that was here went to the bathroom while the rest of her sat in the cab of The Helen Rivington. Well eat our picnic, pick up our trash, watch the sunset, and then well go back. (eat our picnic, pick up our trash, watch the sunset, and then) Something unpleasant and unexpected broke into her thoughts, and hard enough to snap her head back. A man and two women. The man had an eagle on his back, and both women had tramp stamps. Abra could see the tattoos because they were having naked sex beside a pool while stupid old disco music played. The women were letting out a lot of fake moans. What in hell had she stumbled across? The shock of what those people were doing destroyed her delicate balancing act, and for a moment Abra was all in one place, all here. Cautiously, she looked again, and saw the people by the pool were all blurry. Not real. Almost ghostie people. And why? Because Barry was almost a ghostie person himself and had no interest in watching people have sex by the Those people arent by a pool, theyre on TV. Did Barry the Chink know she was watching him watch some porno TV show? Him and the others? Abra wasnt sure, but she didnt think so. They had taken the possibility into account, though. Oh, yes. If she was there, they were trying to shock her into going away, or into revealing herself, or both. Abra? Emma called. Were ready to play! Were playing already, and its a much bigger game than Scrabble. She had to get her balance back, and quickly. Never mind the porno TV with the crappy disco music. She was in the little train. She was driving the little train. It was her special treat. She was having fun. Were going to eat, were going to pick up our trash, were going to watch the sunset, and then were going to go back. Im afraid of the woman in the hat but not too afraid, because Im not home, Im going to Cloud Gap with my dad. Abra! Did you fall in? Coming! she called. Just want to wash my hands! Im with my dad. Im with my dad, and thats all. Looking at herself in the mirror, Abra whispered, Hold that thought. 3 Jimmy Numbers was behind the wheel when they pulled into the Bretton Woods rest stop, which was quite close to Anniston, the town where the troublesome girl lived. Only she wasnt there. According to Barry, she was in a town called Frazier, a little further southeast. On a picnic with her dad. Making herself scarce. Much good it would do her. Snake inserted the first video in the DVD player. It was called Kennys Poolside Adventure. If the kids watching this, shes gonna get an education, she said, and pushed PLAY. Nut was sitting beside Barry and feeding him more juice . . . when he could, that was. Barry had begun to cycle for real. He had little interest in juice and none at all in the poolside mnage  trois. He only looked at the screen because those were their orders. Each time he came back to his solid form, he groaned louder. Crow, he said. Get with me, Daddy. Crow was beside him in an instant, elbowing Walnut aside. Lean close, Barry whispered, andafter one uneasy momentCrow did as he was asked. Barry opened his mouth, but the next cycle started before he could speak. His skin turned milky, then thinned to transparency. Crow could see his teeth locked together, the sockets that held his painfilled eyes, andworst of allthe shadowy crenellations of his brain. He waited, holding a hand that was no longer a hand but only a nestle of bones. Somewhere, at a great distance, that twanky disco music went on and on. Crow thought, They must be on drugs. You couldnt fuck to music like that unless you were. Slowly, slowly, Barry the Chink grew dense again. This time he screamed as he came back. Sweat stood out on his brow. So did the red spots, now so bright they looked like beads of blood. He wet his lips and said, Listen to me. Crow listened. 4 Dan did his best to empty his mind so Abra could fill it. He had driven the Riv out to Cloud Gap often enough for it to be almost automatic, and John was riding back by the caboose with the guns (two automatic pistols and Billys deer rifle). Out of sight, out of mind. Or almost. You couldnt completely lose yourself even while you were asleep, but Abras presence was large enough to be a little scary. Dan thought if she stayed inside his head long enough, and kept broadcasting at her current power, he would soon be shopping for snappy sandals and matching accessories. Not to mention mooning over the groovy boys who made up the band Round Here. It helped that she had insistedat the last minutethat he take Hoppy, her old stuffed rabbit. It will give me something to focus on, she had said, all of them unaware that a notquitehuman gentleman whose rube name was Barry Smith would have understood perfectly. He had learned the trick from Grampa Flick, and used it many times. It also helped that Dave Stone kept up a constant stream of family stories, many of which Abra had never heard before. And still, Dan wasnt convinced any of this would have worked if the one in charge of finding her hadnt been sick. Cant the others do this location thing? he had asked her. The lady in the hat could, even from halfway across the country, but shes staying out of it. That unsettling smile had once more curved Abras lips and exposed the tips of her teeth. It made her look far older than her years. Rose is scared of me. Abras presence in Dans head wasnt constant. Every now and then he would feel her leave as she went the other way, reaching outoh so carefullyto the one who had been foolish enough to slip Bradley Trevors baseball glove on his hand. She said they had stopped in a town called Starbridge (Dan was pretty sure she meant Sturbridge) and left the turnpike there, moving along the secondary roads toward the bright blip of her consciousness. Later on they had stopped at a roadside caf for lunch, not hurrying, making the final leg of the trip last. They knew where she was going now, and were perfectly willing to let her get there, because Cloud Gap was isolated. They thought she was making their job easier, and that was fine, but this was delicate work, a kind of telepathic laser surgery. There had been one unsettling moment when a pornographic image filled Dans mindsome kind of group sex by a poolbut it had been gone almost at once. He supposed he had gotten a peek into her undermind, whereif you believed Dr. Freudall sorts of primal images lurked. This was an assumption he would come to regret, although never to blame himself for; he had taught himself not to snoop into peoples most private things. Dan held the Rivs steeringyoke with one hand. The other was on the mangy stuffed bunny in his lap. Deep woods, now starting to flame with serious color, flowed by on both sides. In the righthand seatthe socalled conductors seatDave rambled on, telling his daughter family stories and dancing at least one family skeleton out of the closet. When your mom called yesterday morning, she told me theres a trunk stored in the basement of Momos building. Its marked Alessandra. You know who that is, dont you? Gramma Sandy, Dan said. Christ, even his voice sounded higher. Younger. Right you are. Now heres something you might not know, and if thats the case, you didnt hear it from me. Right? No, Daddy. Dan felt his lips curve up as, some miles away, Abra smiled down at her current collection of Scrabble tiles S P O N D L A. Your Gramma Sandy graduated from SUNY Albanythe State University of New Yorkand was doing her student teaching at a prep school, okay? Vermont, Massachusetts, or New Hampshire, I forget which. Halfway through her eight weeks, she up and quit. But she hung around for awhile, maybe picking up some parttime work, waitressing or something, for sure going to a lot of concerts and parties. She was . . . 5 (a goodtime girl) That made Abra think of the three sex maniacs by the pool, smooching and gobbling to oldtime disco music. Uck. Some people had very strange ideas of what was a good time. Abra? That was Mrs. Deane. Its your turn, honey. If she had to keep this up for long, shed have a nervous breakdown. It would have been so much easier at home, by herself. She had even floated the idea to her father, but he wouldnt hear of it. Not even with Mr. Freeman watching over her. She used a U on the board to make POUND. Thanks, AbbaDoofus, I was going there, Emma said. She turned the board and began to study it with beadyeyed finalexam concentration that would go on for another five minutes, at least. Maybe even ten. Then she would make something totally lame, like RAP or PAD. Abra returned to the Riv. What her father was saying was sort of interesting, although she knew more about it than he thought she did. (Abby? Are you) 6 Abby? Are you listening? Sure, Dan said. I just had to take a little timeout to play a word. This is interesting. Anyway, Momo was living in Manhattan at that time, and when Alessandra came to see her that June, she was pregnant. Pregnant with Mom? Thats right, AbbaDoo. So Mom was born out of wedlock? Total surprise, and maybe the tiniest bit overdone. Dan, in the peculiar position of both participating and eavesdropping on the discussion, now realized something he found touching and sweetly comic Abra knew perfectly well that her mother was illegitimate. Lucy had told her the year before. What Abra was doing now, strange but true, was protecting her fathers innocence. Thats right, honey. But its no crime. Sometimes people get . . . I dont know . . . confused. Family trees can grow strange branches, and theres no reason for you not to know that. Gramma Sandy died a couple of months after Mom was born, right? In a car wreck. Thats right. Momo was babysitting Lucy for the afternoon, and ended up raising her. Thats the reason theyre so close, and why Momo getting old and sick has been so hard on your mom. Who was the man who got Gramma Sandy pregnant? Did she ever say? Tell you what, Dave said, thats an interesting question. If Alessandra ever told, Momo kept it to herself. He pointed ahead, at the lane cutting through the woods. Look, honey, almost there! They were passing a sign reading CLOUD GAP PICNIC AREA, 2 MI. 7 Crows party made a brief stop in Anniston to gas up the Winnebago, but on lower Main Street, at least a mile from Richland Court. As they left townSnake now at the wheel and an epic called Swinging Sorority Sisters on the DVD playerBarry called Jimmy Numbers to his bed. You guys got to step it up a notch, Barry said. Theyre almost there. Its a place called Cloud Gap. Did I tell you that? Yeah, you did. Jimmy almost patted Barrys hand, then thought better of it. Theyll be spreading their picnic in no time. Thats when you should take them, while theyre sat down and eating. Well get it done, Jimmy promised. And in time to twist enough steam out of her to help you. Rose cant object to that. She never would, Barry agreed, but its too late for me. Maybe not for you, though. Huh? Look at your arms. Jimmy did, and saw the first spots blooming on the soft white skin below his elbows. Red death. His mouth went dry at the sight of them. Oh Christ, here I go, Barry moaned, and suddenly his clothes were collapsing in on a body that was no longer there. Jimmy saw him swallow . . . and then his throat was gone. Move, Nut said. Let me at him. Yeah? What are you going to do? Hes cooked. Jimmy went up front and dropped into the passenger seat, which Crow had vacated. Take Route 14A around Frazier, he said. Thats quicker than going through the downtown. Youll connect with the Saco River Road Snake tapped the GPS. I got all that programmed. You think Im blind or just stupid? Jimmy barely heard her. All he knew was that he could not die. He was too young to die, especially with all the incredible computer developments just over the horizon. And the thought of cycling, the crushing pain every time he came back . . . No. No. Absolutely not. Impossible. Lateafternoon light slanted in through the Bagos big front windows. Beautiful autumn sunlight. Fall was Jimmys favorite season, and he intended to still be alive and traveling with the True Knot when it came around again. And again. And again. Luckily, he was with the right bunch to get this done. Crow Daddy was brave, resourceful, and cunning. The True had been in tough spots before. He would bring them through this one. Watch for the sign pointing to the Cloud Gap picnic area. Dont miss it. Barry says theyre almost there. Jimmy, youre giving me a headache, Snake said. Go sit down. Well be there in an hour, maybe less. Goose it, Jimmy Numbers said. Snakebite Andi grinned and did so. They were just turning onto the Saco River Road when Barry the Chink cycled out, leaving only his clothes. They were still warm from the fever that had baked him. 8 (Barrys dead) There was no horror in this thought when it reached Dan. Nor even an ounce of compassion. Only satisfaction. Abra Stone might look like an ordinary American girl, prettier than some and brighter than most, but when you got below the surfaceand not that far below, eitherthere was a young Viking woman with a fierce and bloodthirsty soul. Dan thought it was a shame that shed never had brothers and sisters. She would have protected them with her life. Dan dropped the Riv into its lowest gear as the train came out of the deep woods and ran along a fenced drop. Below them, the Saco shone bright gold in the declining sun. The woods, sloping steeply down to the water on both sides, were a bonfire of orange, red, yellow, and purple. Above them, the puffy clouds drifting by seemed almost close enough to touch. He pulled up to the sign reading CLOUD GAP STATION in a chuff of airbrakes, then turned the diesel off. For a moment he had no idea what to say, but Abra said it for him, using his mouth. Thanks for letting me drive, Daddy. Now lets have our plunder. In the Deane rec room, Abra had just made this word. Our picnic, I mean. I cant believe youre hungry after all you ate on the train, Dave teased. I am, though. Arent you glad Im not anorexic? Yes, Dave said. Actually, I am. Dan saw John Dalton from the corner of his eye, crossing the picnic area clearing, head down, feet noiseless on the thick pine duff. He was carrying a pistol in one hand and Billy Freemans rifle in the other. Trees bordered a parking lot for motor traffic; after a single look back, John disappeared into them. During summer, the little lot and all the picnic tables would have been full. On this weekday afternoon in late September, Cloud Gap was dead empty except for them. Dave looked at Dan. Dan nodded. Abras fatheran agnostic by inclination but a Catholic by associationmade the sign of the cross in the air and then followed John into the woods. Its so beautiful here, Daddy, Dan said. His invisible passenger was now talking to Hoppy, because Hoppy was the only one left. Dan set the lumpy, balding, oneeyed rabbit on one of the picnic tables, then went back to the first passenger car for the wicker picnic basket. Thats okay, he said to the empty clearing, I can get it, Dad. 9 In the Deanes rec room, Abra pushed back her chair and stood up. I have to go to the bathroom again. I feel sick to my stomach. And after that, I think I better go home. Emma rolled her eyes, but Mrs. Deane was all sympathy. Oh, honey, is it your youknow? Yes, and its pretty bad. Do you have the things you need? In my backpack. Ill be fine. Excuse me. Thats right, Emma said, quit while youre winning. Emma! her mother cried. Thats okay, Mrs. Deane. She beat me at HORSE. Abra went up the stairs, one hand pressed to her stomach in a way she hoped didnt look too fakey. She glanced outside again, saw Mr. Freemans truck, but didnt bother with the thumbsup this time. Once in the bathroom, she locked the door and sat down on the closed toilet lid. It was such a relief to be done juggling so many different selves. Barry was dead; Emma and her mom were downstairs; now it was just the Abra in this bathroom and the Abra at Cloud Gap. She closed her eyes. (Dan) (Im here) (you dont have to pretend to be me anymore) She felt his relief, and smiled. Uncle Dan had tried hard, but he wasnt cut out to be a chick. A light, tentative knock at the door. Girlfriend? Emma. You all right? Im sorry if I was mean. Im okay, but Im going to go home and take a Motrin and lie down. I thought you were going to stay the night. Ill be fine. Isnt your dad gone? Ill lock the doors until he gets back. Well . . . want me to walk with you? Thats okay. She wanted to be alone so she could cheer when Dan and her father and Dr. John took those things out. They would, too. Now that Barry was dead, the others were blind. Nothing could go wrong. 10 There was no breeze to rattle the brittle leaves, and with the Riv shut down, the picnic area at Cloud Gap was very quiet. There was only the muted conversation of the river below, the squall of a crow, and the sound of an approaching engine. Them. The ones the hat woman had sent. Rose. Dan flipped up one side of the wicker basket, reached in, and gripped the Glock .22 Billy had provided him withfrom what source Dan didnt know or care. What he cared about was that it could fire fifteen rounds without reloading, and if fifteen rounds werent enough, he was in a world of hurt. A ghost memory of his father came, Jack Torrance smiling his charming, crooked grin and saying, If that dont work, I dont know what to tellya. Dan looked at Abras old stuffed toy. Ready, Hoppy? I hope so. I hope we both are. 11 Billy Freeman was slouched behind the wheel of his truck, but sat up in a hurry when Abra came out of the Deane house. Her friendEmmastood in the doorway. The two girls said goodbye, slapping palms first in an overhead high five, then down low. Abra started for her own house, across the street and four doors down. That wasnt in the plan, and when she glanced at him, he raised both hands in a what gives gesture. She smiled and shot him another quick thumbsup. She thought everything was okay, he got that loud and clear, but seeing her outside and on her own made Billy uneasy, even if the freaks were twenty miles south of here. She was a powerhouse, and maybe she knew what she was doing, but she was also only thirteen. As he watched her go up the walk to her house, pack on her back and rummaging in her pocket for her key, Billy leaned over and thumbed the button on his glove compartment. His own Glock .22 was inside. The pistols were rented firepower from a guy who was an emeritus member of the Road Saints, New Hampshire chapter. In his younger years, Billy had sometimes ridden with them but had never joined. On the whole he was glad, but he understood the pull. The camaraderie. He supposed it was the way Dan and John felt about the drinking. Abra slipped into her house and closed the door. Billy didnt take either the Glock or his cell phone out of the glove compartmentnot yetbut he didnt close the compartment, either. He didnt know if it was what Dan called the shining, but he had a bad feeling about this. Abra should have stayed with her friend. She should have stuck to the plan. 12 They ride in campers and Winnebagos, Abra had said, and it was a Winnebago that pulled into the parking lot where the Cloud Gap access road deadended. Dan sat watching with his hand in the picnic basket. Now that the time had come, he felt calm enough. He turned the basket so one end faced the newly arrived RV and flicked off the Glocks safety with his thumb. The Bagos door opened and Abras wouldbe kidnappers spilled out, one after the other. She had also said they had funny namespirate namesbut these looked like ordinary people to Dan. The men were the goingonelderly kind you always saw pooting around in campers and RVs; the woman was young and goodlooking in an allAmerican way that made him think of cheerleaders who still had their figures ten years after high school, and maybe after a kid or two. She could have been the daughter of one of the men. He felt a moments doubt. This was, after all, a tourist spot, and it was the beginning of leafpeeping season in New England. He hoped John and David would hold their fire; it would be horrible if they were just innocent by Then he saw the rattlesnake baring its fangs on the womans left arm, and the syringe in her right hand. The man crowding in close beside her had another syringe. And the man in the lead had what looked very much like a pistol in his belt. They stopped just inside the birch poles marking the entrance to the picnic area. The one in the lead disabused Dan of any lingering doubts he might have had by drawing the pistol. It didnt look like a regular gun. It was too thin to be a regular gun. Wheres the girl? With the hand not in the picnic basket, Dan pointed to Hoppy the stuffed rabbit. Thats as close to her as youre ever going to get. The man with the funny gun was short, with a widows peak above a mildmannered accountants face. A soft pod of wellfed stomach hung over his belt. He was wearing chinos and a tshirt reading GOD DOES NOT DEDUCT FROM MANS ALLOTED SPAN THE HOURS SPENT FISHING. I have a question for you, honeybunch, the woman said. Dan raised his eyebrows. Go ahead. Arent you tired? Dont you want to go to sleep? He did. All at once his eyelids were as heavy as sashweights. The hand holding the gun began to relax. Two more seconds and he would have been crashed out and snoring with his head on the initialcarved surface of the picnic table. But that was when Abra screamed. (WHERES THE CROW? I DONT SEE THE CROW!) 13 Dan jerked as a man will when he is badly startled on the edge of sleep. The hand in the picnic basket spasmed, the Glock went off, and a cloud of wickerwork fragments flew. The bullet went wild but the people from the Winnebago jumped, and the sleepiness left Dans head like the illusion that it was. The woman with the snake tattoo and the man with the popcorny fringe of white hair flinched back, but the one with the oddlooking pistol charged forward, yelling Get him! Get him! Get this, you kidnapping fuckers! Dave Stone shouted. He stepped out of the woods and began to spray bullets. Most of them went wild, but one hit Walnut in the neck and the Trues doctor went down on the pine duff, the hypo spilling from his fingers. 14 Leading the True had its responsibilities, but also its perks. Roses gigantic EarthCruiser, imported from Australia at paralyzing expense and then converted to lefthand drive, was one. Having the ladies shower room at the Bluebell Campground all to herself whenever she wanted it was another. After months on the road, there was nothing like a long hot shower in a big tiled room where you could hold your arms out or even dance around, if the spirit moved you. And where the hot water didnt run out after four minutes. Rose liked to turn off the lights and shower in darkness. She found she did her best thinking that way, and for just that reason she had headed to the shower immediately after the troubling cell phone call shed gotten at 1 p.m., Mountain Time. She still believed everything was all right, but a few doubts had begun to sprout, like dandelions on a previously flawless lawn. If the girl was even smarter than they thought . . . or if she had enlisted help . . . No. It couldnt be. She was a steamhead for surethe steamhead of all steamheadsbut she was still only a child. A rube child. In any case, all Rose could do for the time being was wait on developments. After fifteen refreshing minutes, she stepped out, dried off, wrapped herself in a fluffy bath sheet, and headed back to her RV, carrying her clothes. Short Eddie and Big Mo were cleaning up the openair barbecue area following another excellent lunch. Not their fault that nobody felt much like eating, with two more of the True showing those goddamned red spots. They waved to her. Rose was raising her own hand in return when a bundle of dynamite went off in her head. She went sprawling, her pants and shirt spilling from her hand. Her bath sheet unraveled. Rose barely noticed. Something had happened to the raiding party. Something bad. She was digging for her cell in the pocket of her crumpled jeans as soon as her head began to clear. Never in her life had she wished so strongly (and so bitterly) that Crow Daddy was capable of longdistance telepathy, butwith a few exceptions, like herselfthat gift seemed reserved for rube steamheads like the girl in New Hampshire. Eddie and Mo were running toward her. Behind them came Long Paul, Silent Sarey, Token Charlie, and Harpman Sam. Rose hit speed dial on her phone. A thousand miles away, Crows gave just half a ring. Hello, youve reached Henry Rothman. I cant talk to you right now, but if you leave your number and a brief message Fucking voice mail. Which meant his phone was either turned off or getting no service. Rose was betting the latter. Naked and on her knees in the dirt, her heels digging into the backs of her thighs, Rose smacked the center of her forehead with the hand not holding her cell. Crow, where are you? What are you doing? Whats happening? 15 The man in the chinos and tshirt fired his weird pistol at Dan. There was a chuff of compressed air, and suddenly a dart was sticking out of Hoppys back. Dan raised the Glock from the ruins of the picnic basket and fired again. Chinos Guy took it in the chest and went over backwards, grunting, as fine droplets of blood blew out through the back of his shirt. Andi Steiner was the last one standing. She turned, saw Dave Stone frozen there, looking dazed, and charged at him with her hypodermic needle clutched in her fist like a dagger. Her ponytail swung like a pendulum. She was screaming. To Dan, everything seemed to have slowed down and gained clarity. He had time to see that the plastic protectorsleeve was still on the end of the needle and had time to think, What kind of clowns are these guys? The answer, of course, was that they werent clowns at all. They were hunters completely unused to resistance from their prey. But of course children were their usual targets, and unsuspecting ones, at that. Dave only stared at the howling harpy coming toward him. Perhaps his gun was empty; more likely that one burst had been his limit. Dan raised his own gun but didnt shoot. The chances of missing the tattooed lady and hitting Abras father were just too great. That was when John ran out of the woods and slammed into Daves back, shoving him forward into the charging woman. Her screams (fury? dismay?) were driven out of her in a gust of violently expelled air. They both tumbled over. The needle flew. As Tattoo Woman went scrabbling for it on her hands and knees, John brought the stock of Billys deer rifle down on the side of her head. It was a fullforce, adrenalinefueled blow. There was a crunch as her jaw broke. Her features twisted to the left, one eye bulging from its socket in a startled glare. She sprawled and rolled over on her back. Blood trickled from the corners of her mouth. Her hands clenched and opened, clenched and opened. John dropped the rifle and turned to Dan, stricken. I didnt mean to hit her that hard! Christ, I was just so scared! Look at the one with the frizzy hair, Dan said. He got up on legs that felt too long and not all there. Look at him, John. John looked. Walnut lay in a pool of blood, one hand clutching his torn neck. He was cycling rapidly. His clothes fell in, then puffed out. The blood flowing through his fingers disappeared, then reappeared again. The fingers themselves were doing the same. The man had become an insane Xray. John stepped back with his hands plastered over his mouth and nose. Dan still had that sense of slowness and perfect clarity. There was time to see Tattoo Womans blood and a snarl of her blond hair on the stock of the Remington pump also appearing and disappearing. It made him think of how her ponytail had pendulumed back and forth when she (Dan wheres the Crow WHERES THE CROW???) ran at Abras father. She had told them that Barry was cycling. Now Dan understood what she meant. The one in the fishing shirt is doing it, too, Dave Stone said. His voice was only slightly shaky, and Dan guessed he knew where some of his daughters steel had come from. But he didnt have time to think about that now. Abra was telling him they hadnt gotten the whole crew. He sprinted to the Winnebago. The door was still open. He ran up the steps, threw himself on the carpeted floor, and managed to bang his head hard enough on the post under the eating table to send bright specks shooting across his field of vision. Never happens that way in the movies, he thought, and rolled over, expecting to be shot or stomped or injected by the one who had stayed behind to provide the rearguard. The one Abra called the crow. They werent totally stupid and complacent after all, it seemed. The Winnebago was empty. Appeared empty. Dan got to his feet and hurried through the kitchenette. He passed a foldout bed, rumpled from frequent occupancy. Part of his mind registered the fact that the RV smelled like the wrath of God in spite of the airconditioner that was still running. There was a closet, but the door stood open on its track and he saw nothing inside but clothes. He bent, looking for feet. No feet. He went on to the rear of the Winnebago and stood beside the bathroom door. He thought more movie shit, and pulled it open, crouching as he did it. The Winnebagos can was empty, and he wasnt surprised. If anyone had tried hiding in there, hed be dead by now. The smell alone would have killed him. (maybe someone did die in here maybe this Crow) Abra came back at once, full of panic, broadcasting so powerfully that she scattered his own thoughts. (no Barrys the one who died WHERES THE CROW FIND THE CROW) Dan left the RV. Both of the men who had come after Abra were gone; only their clothes were left. The womanthe one who had tried to send him to sleepwas still there, but wouldnt be for long. She had crawled to the picnic table with the ruined wicker basket on it and now lay propped against one of the bench seats, staring at Dan, John, and Dave from her newly crooked face. Blood ran from her nose and mouth, giving her a red goatee. The front of her blouse was soaked. As Dan approached, her skin melted from her face and her clothes fell inward against the strutwork of her skeleton. No longer held in place by her shoulders, the straps of her bra flopped in loops. Of her soft parts, only her eyes remained, watching Dan. Then her skin reknit itself and her clothes plumped up around her body. The fallen bra straps bit into her upper arms, the strap on the left gagging the rattlesnake so it couldnt bite. The fingerbones clutching her shattered jaw grew a hand. You fucked us, Snakebite Andi said. Her voice was slurred. Fucked by a bunch of rubes. I dont believe it.