Ill make sure that her back is turned. You know what happens then, dont you? (Ill climb the stairs and) But Rose was shaking her head. No, Sarey. You wont need to. Shes never going to get near the platform up there. She would hate to lose the steam even more than she would hate losing the opportunity to kill the bitchgirl herself . . . after making her suffer, and at length. But she mustnt throw caution to the winds. The girl was very strong. What will you listen for, Sarey? Dont make me punish lu. And what will you be thinking of? The eyes, halfhidden by the shaggy bangs, gleamed. Levenge. Thats right. Revenge for Andi, murdered by that bitchgirls friends. But not unless I need you, because I want to do this myself. Roses hands clenched, her nails digging into deep, bloodcrusted crescents they had already made in her palms. But if I need you, you come. Dont hesitate or stop for anything. Dont stop until youve put that sickle blade in her neck and see the end of it come out of her fucking throat. Sareys eyes gleamed. Lup. Good. Rose kissed her, then shut the door and snapped the padlock closed. She put the key in her zipper pack and leaned against the door. Listen to me, sweetheart. If all goes well, youll get the first steam. I promise. And it will be the best you ever had. Rose walked back to the lookout platform, took several long and steadying breaths, and then began to climb the steps. 4 Dan stood with his hands propped against one of the picnic tables, head down, eyes closed. Doing it this way is crazy, Billy said. I should stay with you. You cant. Youve got your own fish to fry. What if you faint halfway down that path? Even if you dont, how are you going to take on the whole bunch of them? The way you look now, you couldnt go two rounds with a fiveyearold. I think pretty soon Im going to feel a whole lot better. Stronger, too. Go on, Billy. You remember where to park? Far end of the lot, by the sign that says kids eat for free when the Colorado teams win. Right. Dan raised his head and noted the oversize sunglasses Billy was now wearing. Pull your cap down hard. All the way to your ears. Look young. I might have a trick thatll make me look even younger. If I can still do it, that is. Dan barely heard this. I need one other thing. He stood up straight and opened his arms. Billy hugged him, wanting to do it hardfiercelyand not daring. Abra made a good call. I never would have gotten here without you. Now take care of your business. You take care of yours, Billy said. Im counting on you to drive the Thanksgiving run out to Cloud Gap. Id like that, Dan said. Best model train set a boy never had. Billy watched him walk slowly, holding his hands against his stomach as he went, to the signpost on the far side of the clearing. There were two wooden arrows. One pointed west, toward Pawnee Lookout. The other pointed east, downhill. This one read TO BLUEBELL CAMPGROUND. Dan started along that path. For a little while Billy could see him through the glowing yellow leaves of the aspens, walking slowly and painfully, his head down to watch his footing. Then he was gone. Take care of my boy, Billy said. He wasnt sure if he was talking to God or Abra, and guessed it didnt matter; both were probably too busy to bother with the likes of him this afternoon. He went back to his truck, and from the bed pulled out a little girl with staring china blue eyes and stiff blond curls. Not much weight; she was probably hollow inside. How you doin, Abra? Hope you didnt get bumped around too much. She was wearing a Colorado Rockies tee and blue shorts. Her feet were bare, and why not? This little girlactually a mannequin purchased at a moribund childrens clothing shop in Martenvillehad never walked a single step. But she had bendable knees, and Billy was able to place her in the trucks passenger seat with no trouble. He buckled her seatbelt, started to close the door, then tried the neck. It also bent, although only a little. He stepped away to examine the effect. It wasnt bad. She seemed to be looking at something in her lap. Or maybe praying for strength in the coming battle. Not bad at all. Unless they had binoculars, of course. He got back in the truck and waited, giving Dan time. Also hoping he wasnt passed out somewhere along the path that led to the Bluebell Campground. At quarter to five, Billy started the truck and headed back the way he had come. 5 Dan maintained a steady walking pace in spite of the growing heat in his midsection. It felt as though there were a rat on fire in there, one that kept chewing at him even as it burned. If the path had been going up instead of down, he never would have made it. At ten to five, he came around a bend and stopped. Not far ahead, the aspens gave way to a green and manicured expanse of lawn sloping down to a pair of tennis courts. Beyond the courts he could see the RV parking area and a long log building Overlook Lodge. Beyond that, the terrain climbed again. Where the Overlook had once stood, a tall platform reared gantrylike against the bright sky. Roof O the World. Looking at it, the same thought that had occurred to Rose the Hat (gallows) crossed Dans mind. Standing at the railing, facing south toward the parking lot for day visitors, was a single silhouetted figure. A womans figure. The tophat was tilted on her head. (Abra are you there) (Im here Dan) Calm, by the sound. Calm was just the way he wanted it. (are they hearing you) That brought a vague ticklish sensation her smile. The angry one. (if theyre not theyre deaf) That was good enough. (you have to come to me now but remember if I tell you to go YOU GO) She didnt answer, and before he could tell her again, she was there. 6 The Stones and John Dalton watched helplessly as Abra slid sideways until she was lying with her head on the boards of the stoop and her legs splayed out on the steps below her. Hoppy spilled from one relaxing hand. She didnt look as if she were sleeping, nor even in a faint. That was the ugly sprawl of deep unconsciousness or death. Lucy lunged forward. Dave and John held her back. She fought them. Let me go! I have to help her! You cant, John said. Only Dan can help her now. They have to help each other. She stared at him with wild eyes. Is she even breathing? Can you tell? Shes breathing, Dave said, but he sounded unsure even to himself. 7 When Abra joined him, the pain eased for the first time since Boston. That didnt comfort Dan much, because now Abra was suffering, too. He could see it in her face, but he could also see the wonder in her eyes as she looked around at the room in which she found herself. There were bunk beds, knottypine walls, and a rug embroidered with western sage and cactus. Both the rug and the lower bunk were littered with cheap toys. On a small desk in the corner was a scattering of books and a jigsaw puzzle with large pieces. In the rooms far corner, a radiator clanked and hissed. Abra walked to the desk and picked up one of the books. On the cover, a small child on a trike was being chased by a little dog. The title was Reading Fun with Dick and Jane. Dan joined her, wearing a bemused smile. The little girl on the cover is Sally. Dick and Jane are her brother and sister. And the dogs name is Jip. For a little while they were my best friends. My only friends, I guess. Except for Tony, of course. She put the book down and turned to him. What is this place, Dan? A memory. There used to be a hotel here, and this was my room. Now its a place where we can be together. You know the wheel that turns when you go into someone else? Uhhuh . . . This is the middle. The hub. I wish we could stay here. It feels . . . safe. Except for those. Abra pointed to the French doors with their long panes of glass. They dont feel the same as the rest. She looked at him almost accusingly. They werent here, were they? When you were a kid. No. There werent any windows in my room, and the only door was the one that went into the rest of the caretakers apartment. I changed it. I had to. Do you know why? She studied him, her eyes grave. Because that was then and this is now. Because the past is gone, even though it defines the present. He smiled. I couldnt have said it better myself. You didnt have to say it. You thought it. He drew her toward those French doors that had never existed. Through the glass they could see the lawn, the tennis courts, the Overlook Lodge, and Roof O the World. I see her, Abra breathed. Shes up there, and shes not looking this way, is she? She better not be, Dan said. How bad is the pain, honey? Bad, she said. But I dont care. Because She didnt have to finish. He knew, and she smiled. This togetherness was what they had, and in spite of the pain that came with itpain of all kindsit was good. It was very good. Dan? Yes, honey. There are ghostie people out there. I cant see them, but I feel them. Do you? Yes. He had for years. Because the past defines the present. He put his arm around her shoulders, and her arm crept around his waist. What do we do now? Wait for Billy. Hope hes on time. And then all of this is going to happen very fast. Uncle Dan? What, Abra. Whats inside you? That isnt a ghost. Its like He felt her shiver. Its like a monster. He said nothing. She straightened and stepped away from him. Look! Over there! An old Ford pickup was rolling into the visitors parking lot. 8 Rose stood with her hands on the lookout platforms waisthigh railing, peering at the truck pulling into the parking lot. The steam had sharpened her vision, but she still wished she had brought a pair of binoculars. Surely there were some in the supply room, for guests who wanted to go birdwatching, so why hadnt she? Because you had so many other things on your mind. The sickness . . . the rats jumping ship . . . losing Crow to the bitchgirl . . . Yes to all of thatyes, yes, yesbut she still should have remembered. For a moment she wondered what else she might have forgotten, but pushed the idea away. She was still in charge of this, loaded with steam and at the top of her game. Everything was going exactly as planned. Soon the little girl would come up here, because she was full of foolish teenage confidence and pride in her own abilities. But I have the high ground, dear, in all sorts of ways. If I cant take care of you alone, Ill draw from the rest of the True. Theyre all together in the main room, because you thought that was such a good idea. But theres something you didnt take into consideration. When were together were linked, were a True Knot, and that makes us a giant battery. Power I can draw on if I need to. If all else failed, there was Silent Sarey. She would now have the sickle in her hand. She might not be a genius, but she was merciless, murderous, andonce she understood the jobcompletely obedient. Also, she had her own reasons for wanting the bitchgirl laid out dead on the ground at the foot of the lookout platform. (Charlie) Token Charlie hit her back at once, and although he was ordinarily a feeble sender, nowboosted by the others in the main room of the Lodgehe came in loud and clear and nearly mad with excitement. (Im getting her steady and strong we all are she must be real close you must feel her) Rose did, even though she was still working hard to keep her mind closed off so the bitchgirl couldnt get in and mess with her. (never mind that just tell the others to be ready if I need help) Many voices came back, jumping all over each other. They were ready. Even those that were sick were ready to help all they could. She loved them for that. Rose stared at the blond girl in the truck. She was looking down. Reading something? Nerving herself up? Praying to the God of Rubes, perhaps? It didnt matter. Come to me, bitchgirl. Come to Auntie Rose. But it wasnt the girl who got out, it was the uncle. Just as the bitch had said he would. Checking. He walked around the hood of the truck, moving slowly, looking everywhere. He leaned in the passenger window, said something to the girl, then moved away from the truck a little. He looked toward the Lodge, then turned to the platform rearing against the sky . . . and waved. The insolent bugger actually waved at her. Rose didnt wave back. She was frowning. An uncle. Why had her parents sent an uncle instead of bringing their bitch daughter themselves? For that matter, why had they allowed her to come at all? She convinced them it was the only way. Told them that if she didnt come to me, Id come to her. Thats the reason, and it makes sense. It did, but she felt a growing unease all the same. She had allowed the bitchgirl to set the ground rules. To that extent, at least, Rose had been manipulated. She had allowed it because this was her home ground and because she had taken precautions, but mostly because she had been angry. So angry. She stared hard at the man in the parking lot. He was strolling around again, looking here and there, making sure she was alone. Perfectly reasonable, it was what she would have done, but she still had a gnawing intuition that what he was really doing was buying time, although why he would want to was beyond her. Rose stared harder, now focusing on the mans gait. She decided he wasnt as young as she had first believed. He walked, in fact, like a man who was far from young. As if he had more than a touch of arthritis. And why was the little girl so still? Rose felt the first pulse of real alarm. Something was wrong here. 9 Shes looking at Mr. Freeman, Abra said. We should go. He opened the French doors, but hesitated. Something in her voice. Whats the trouble, Abra? I dont know. Maybe nothing, but I dont like it. Shes looking at him really hard. We have to go right now. I need to do something first. Try to be ready, and dont be scared. Dan closed his eyes and went to the storage room at the back of his mind. Real lockboxes would have been covered with dust after all these years, but the two hed put here as a child were as fresh as ever. Why not? They were made of pure imagination. The thirdthe new onehad a faint aura hanging around it, and he thought No wonder Im sick. Never mind. That one had to stay for the time being. He opened the oldest of the other two, ready for anything, and found . . . nothing. Or almost. In the lockbox that had held Mrs. Massey for thirtytwo years, there was a heap of dark gray ash. But in the other . . . He realized how foolish telling her not to be scared had been. Abra shrieked. 10 On the back stoop of the house in Anniston, Abra began to jerk. Her legs spasmed; her feet rattled a tattoo on the steps; one handflopping like a fish dragged to a riverbank and left to die theresent the illused and bedraggled Hoppy flying. Whats wrong with her? Lucy screamed. She rushed for the door. David stood frozentransfixed by the sight of his seizing daughterbut John got his right arm around Lucys waist and his left around her upper chest. She bucked against him. Let me go! I have to go to her! No! John shouted. No, Lucy, you cant! She would have broken free, but now David had her, too. She subsided, looking first at John. If she dies out there, Ill see you go to jail for it. Next, her gazeflateyed and hostilewent to her husband. You Ill never forgive. Shes quieting, John said. On the stoop, Abras tremors moderated, then stopped. But her cheeks were wet, and tears squeezed from beneath her closed lids. In the days dying light, they clung to her lashes like jewels. 11 In Danny Torrances childhood bedrooma room now made only of memoryAbra clung to Dan with her face pressed against his chest. When she spoke, her voice was muffled. The monsteris it gone? Yes, Dan said. Swear on your mothers name? Yes. She raised her head, first looking at him to assure herself he was telling the truth, then daring to scan the room. That smile. She shuddered. Yes, Dan said. I think . . . hes glad to be home. Abra, are you going to be all right? Because we have to do this right now. Times up. Im all right. But what if . . . it . . . comes back? Dan thought of the lockbox. It was open, but could be closed again easily enough. Especially with Abra to help him. I dont think he . . . it . . . wants anything to do with us, honey. Come on. Just remember if I tell you to go back to New Hampshire, you go. Once again she didnt reply, and there was no time to discuss it. Time was up. He stepped through the French doors. They gave on the end of the path. Abra walked beside him, but lost the solidity shed had in the room of memory and began to flicker again. Out here shes almost a ghostie person herself, Dan thought. It brought home to him just how much she had put herself at risk. He didnt like to think about how tenuous her hold on her own body might now be. Moving rapidlybut not running; that would attract Roses eye, and they had at least seventy yards to cover before the rear of the Overlook Lodge would block them from the lookout platformDan and his ghostiegirl companion crossed the lawn and took the flagstone walk that ran between the tennis courts. They reached the back of the kitchen, and at last the bulk of the Lodge hid them from the platform. Here was the steady rumble of an exhaust fan and the spoiledmeat smell of garbage cans. He tried the rear door and found it unlocked, but paused a moment before opening it. (are they all) (yes all but Rose she hurry up Dan you have to because) Abras eyes, flickering like those of a child in an old blackandwhite movie, were wide with dismay. She knows somethings wrong. 12 Rose turned her attention to the bitchgirl, still sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, head bowed, still as could be. Abra wasnt watching her uncleif he was her uncleand she was making no move to get out. The alarm meter in Roses head went from Danger Yellow to Condition Red. Hey! The voice came floating up to her on the thin air. Hey, you old bag! Watch this! She snapped her gaze back to the man in the parking lot and stared, close to flabbergasted, as he raised his hands over his head and then turned a big, unsteady cartwheel. She thought he was going to go on his ass, but the only thing that fell to the pavement was his hat. What it exposed was the fine white hair of a man in his seventies. Maybe even his eighties. Rose looked back at the girl in the truck, who remained perfectly still with her head bent. She had absolutely no interest in the uncles antics. Suddenly it clicked and Rose understood what she would have seen right away, had the trick not been so outrageous it was a mannequin. But shes here! Token Charlie feels her, all of them in the Lodge feel her, theyre all together and they know All together in the Lodge. All together in one place. And had that been Roses idea? No. That idea had come from the Rose broke for the stairs. 13 The remaining members of the True Knot were crowded together at the two windows looking down at the parking lot, watching as Billy Freeman turned a cartwheel for the first time in over forty years (and the last time hed done this trick, hed been drunk). Petty the Chink actually laughed. What in Gods name With their backs turned, they didnt see Dan step into the room from the kitchen, or the girl flickering in and out of view at his side. Dan had time to register two bundles of clothes on the floor, and to understand that Bradley Trevors measles were still hard at work. Then he went back inside himself, went deep, and found the third lockboxthe leaky one. He flung it open. (Dan what are you doing) He leaned forward with his hands on his upper thighs, his stomach burning like hot metal, and exhaled the old poets last gasp, which she had given him freely, in a dying kiss. From his mouth there came a long plume of pink mist that deepened to red as it hit the air. At first he could focus on nothing but the blessed relief in the middle of his body as the poison remains of Concetta Reynolds left him. Momo! Abra shrieked. 14 On the platform, Roses eyes widened. The bitchgirl was in the Lodge. And someone was with her. She leaped into this new mind without thinking about it. Searching. Ignoring the markers that meant big steam, only trying to stop him before he could do whatever it was he intended to do. Ignoring the terrible possibility that it was already too late. 15 The members of the True turned toward Abras cry. Someoneit was Long Paulsaid What in the hell is that? The red mist coalesced into a shape of a woman. For a momentsurely no more than thatDan looked into Concettas swirling eyes and saw they were young. Still weak and focused on this phantom, he had no sense of the intruder in his mind. Momo! Abra cried again. She was holding out her arms. The woman in the cloud might have looked at her. Might even have smiled. Then the shape of Concetta Reynolds was gone and the mist rolled at the clustered True Knot, many of them now clinging to one another in fright and bewilderment. To Dan, the red stuff looked like blood spreading in water. Its steam, Dan told them. You bastards lived on it; now suck it in and die on it. He had known ever since the plans conception that if it didnt happen fast, he would never live to see how well it succeeded, but he had never imagined it would occur as rapidly as it did. The measles that had already weakened them might have had something to do with it, because some lasted a little longer than others. Even so, it was over in a matter of seconds. They howled in his head like dying wolves. The sound appalled Dan, but this was not true of his companion. Good! Abra shouted. She shook her fists at them. How does it taste? How does my momo taste? Is she good? Have as much as you want! HAVE ALL OF IT! They began to cycle. Through the red mist, Dan saw two of them embracing with their foreheads pressed together, and in spite of all they had doneall they werethe sight moved him. He saw the words I love you on Short Eddies lips; saw Big Mo begin to reply; then they were gone, their clothes floating to the floor. It was that quick. He turned to Abra, meaning to tell her they had to finish it at once, but then Rose the Hat began to shriek, and for a few momentsuntil Abra could block herthose cries of rage and maddened grief blotted out everything else, even the blessed relief of being painfree. And, he devoutly hoped, cancerfree. About that he wouldnt know for sure until he could see his face in a mirror. 16 Rose was at the head of the steps leading down from the platform when the killing mist rolled over the True Knot, the remains of Abras momo doing its quick and lethal work. A white sheet of agony filled her. Screams shot through her head like shrapnel. The cries of the dying True made those of the Cloud Gap raiding party in New Hampshire and Crow in New York seem puny by comparison. Rose staggered back as if she had been hit with a club. She struck the railing, rebounded, and fell down on the boards. Somewhere in the distance, a womanan old one, by the wavering sound of her voicewas chanting no, no, no, no, no. Thats me. It has to be, because Im the only one left. It wasnt the girl who had fallen into the trap of overconfidence, but Rose herself. She thought of something (hoisted on your own petard) the bitchgirl had said. It scalded her with rage and dismay. Her old friends and longtime traveling companions were dead. Poisoned. Except for the cowards who had run, Rose the Hat was the last of the True Knot. But no, that wasnt true. There was Sarey. Sprawled on the platform and shivering under the lateafternoon sky, Rose reached out to her. (are you) The thought that came back was full of confusion and horror. (yes but Rose are they can they be) (never mind them just remember Sarey do you remember) (dont make me punish you) (good Sarey good) If the girl didnt run . . . if she made the mistake of trying to finish her murderous days work . . . She would. Rose was sure of it, and she had seen enough in the mind of the bitchgirls companion to know two things how they had accomplished this slaughter, and how their very connection could be turned against them. Rage was powerful. So were childhood memories. She struggled to her feet, reset her hat at the proper jaunty angle without even thinking about it, and walked to the railing. The man from the pickup truck was staring up at her, but she paid scant attention to him. His treacherous little job was done. She might deal with him later, but now she had eyes only for the Overlook Lodge. The girl was there, but also far away. Her bodily presence at the Trues campground was little more than a phantom. The one who was wholea real person, a rubewas a man she had never seen before. And a steamhead. His voice in her mind was clear and cold. (hello Rose) There was a place nearby where the girl would cease to flicker. Where she would take on her physical body. Where she could be killed. Let Sarey take care of the steamhead man, but not until the steamhead man had taken care of the bitchgirl. (hello Danny hello little boy) Loaded with steam, she reached into him and swatted him to the hub of the wheel, barely hearing Abras cry of bewilderment and terror as she turned to follow. And when Dan was where Rose wanted him, for a moment too surprised to keep his guard up, she poured all her fury into him. She poured it into him like steam. CHAPTER TWENTY HUB OF THE WHEEL, ROOF O THE WORLD 1 Dan Torrance opened his eyes. Sunlight shot through them and into his aching head, threatening to set his brains on fire. It was the hangover to end all hangovers. Loud snoring from beside him a nasty, annoying sound that could only be some drunk chick sleeping it off at the wrong end of the rainbow. Dan turned his head that way and saw the woman sprawled on her back beside him. Vaguely familiar. Dark hair spread around her in a halo. Wearing an oversize Atlanta Braves tshirt. This isnt real. Im not here. Im in Colorado, Im at Roof O the World, and I have to end it. The woman rolled over, opened her eyes, and stared at him. God, my head, she said. Get me some of that coke, daddy. Its in the living room. He stared at her in amazement and growing fury. The fury seemed to come from nowhere, but hadnt it always been that way? It was its own thing, a riddle wrapped in an enigma. Coke? Who bought coke? She grinned, revealing a mouth that contained only a single discolored tooth. Then he knew who she was. You did, daddy. Now go get it. Once my heads clear, Ill throw you a nice fuck. Somehow he was back in this sleazy Wilmington apartment, naked, next to Rose the Hat. What have you done? How did I get here? She threw her head back and laughed. Dont you like this place? You should; I furnished it from your own head. Now do what I told you, asshole. Get the fucking blow. Wheres Abra? What did you do with Abra? Killed her, Rose said indifferently. She was so worried about you she dropped her guard and I tore her open from throat to belly. I wasnt able to suck up as much of her steam as I wanted, but I got quite a lo The world went red. Dan clamped his hands around her throat and began to choke. One thought beat through his mind worthless bitch, now youll take your medicine, worthless bitch, now youll take your medicine, worthless bitch, now youll take it all. 2 The steamhead man was powerful but had nothing like the girls juice. He stood with his legs apart, his head lowered, his shoulders hunched, and his fisted hands raisedthe posture of every man who had ever lost his mind in a killing rage. Anger made men easy. It was impossible to follow his thoughts, because they had turned red. That was all right, that was fine, the girl was right where Rose wanted her. In Abras state of shocked dismay, she had followed him to the hub of the wheel. She wouldnt be shocked or dismayed for much longer, though; Bitchgirl had become Choked Girl. Soon she would be Dead Girl, hoisted on her own petard. (Uncle Dan no no stop its not her) It is, Rose thought, bearing down even harder. Her tooth crept out of her mouth and skewered her lower lip. Blood poured down her chin and onto her top. She didnt feel it any more than she felt the mountain breeze blowing through her masses of dark hair. It is me. You were my daddy, my barroom daddy, I made you empty your wallet for a pile of bad coke, and now its the morning after and I need to take my medicine. Its what you wanted to do when you woke up next to that drunken whore in Wilmington, what you would have done if youd had any balls, and her useless whelp of a son for good measure. Your father knew how to deal with stupid, disobedient women, and his father before him. Sometimes a woman just needs to take her medicine. She needs There was the roar of an approaching motor. It was as unimportant as the pain in her lip and the taste of blood in her mouth. The girl was choking, rattling. Then a thought as loud as a thunderclap exploded in her brain, a wounded roar (MY FATHER KNEW NOTHING!) Rose was still trying to clear her mind of that shout when Billy Freemans pickup truck hit the base of the lookout, knocking her off her feet. Her hat went flying. 3 It wasnt the apartment in Wilmington. It was his longgone bedroom at the Overlook Hotelthe hub of the wheel. It wasnt Deenie, the woman hed awakened next to in that apartment, and it wasnt Rose. It was Abra. He had his hands around her neck and her eyes were bulging. For a moment she started to change again as Rose tried to worm back inside him, feeding him her rage and augmenting his own. Then something happened, and she was gone. But she would be back. Abra was coughing and staring at him. He would have expected shock, but for a girl who had almost been choked to death, she seemed oddly composed. (well . . . we knew it wouldnt be easy) Im not my father! Dan shouted at her. I am not my father! Probably thats good, Abra said. She actually smiled. Youve got one hell of a temper, Uncle Dan. I guess we really are related. I almost killed you, Dan said. Its enough. Time for you to get out. Go back to New Hampshire right now. She shook her head. Ill have tofor awhile, not longbut right now you need me. Abra, thats an order. She folded her arms and stood where she was on the cactus carpet. Ah, Christ. He ran his hands through his hair. Youre a piece of work. She reached out, took his hand. Were going to finish this together. Now come on. Lets get out of this room. I dont think I like it here, after all. Their fingers interlaced, and the room where he had lived for a time as a child dissolved. 4 Dan had time to register the hood of Billys pickup folded around one of the thick posts holding up the Roof O the World lookout tower, its busted radiator steaming. He saw the mannequin version of Abra hanging out the passengerside window, with one plastic arm cocked jauntily behind her. He saw Billy himself trying to open the crumpled drivers side door. Blood was running down one side of the old mans face. Something grabbed his head. Powerful hands twisting, attempting to snap his neck. Then Abras hands were there, tearing Roses away. She looked up. Youll have to do better than that, you cowardly old bitch. Rose stood at the railing, looking down and resetting her ugly hat at the correct angle. Did you enjoy your uncles hands around your throat? How do you feel about him now? That was you, not him. Rose grinned, her bloody mouth yawning. Not at all, dear. I just made use of what he has inside. You should know, youre just like him. Shes trying to distract us, Dan thought. But from what? That? It was a small green buildingmaybe an outside bathroom, maybe a storage shed. (can you) He didnt have to finish the thought. Abra turned toward the shed and stared at it. The padlock creaked, snapped, and fell into the grass. The door swung open. The shed was empty except for a few tools and an old lawnmower. Dan thought hed felt something there, but it must only have been overwrought nerves. When they looked up again, Rose was no longer in view. She had retreated from the railing.


Billy finally managed to get the door of his truck open. He got out, staggered, managed to keep his feet. Danny? You all right? And then Is that Abra? Jesus, shes hardly there. Listen, Billy. Can you walk to the Lodge? I think so. What about the people in there? Gone. I think it would be a very good idea if you went now. Billy didnt argue. He started down the slope, wallowing like a drunk. Dan pointed at the stairs leading to the lookout platform and raised questioning eyebrows. Abra shook her head (its what she wants) and began leading Dan around Roof O the World, to where they could see the very top of Roses stovepipe hat. This put the little equipment shed at their backs, but Dan thought nothing of this now that he had seen it was empty. (Dan I have to go back now just for a minute I have to refresh my) A picture in his mind a field filled with sunflowers, all opening at once. She needed to take care of her physical being, and that was good. That was right. (go) (Ill be back as soon as) (go Abra Ill be fine) And with any luck, this would be over when she came back. 5 In Anniston, John Dalton and the Stones saw Abra draw a deep breath and open her eyes. Abra! Lucy called. Is it over? Soon. Whats that on your neck? Are those bruises? Mom, stay there! I have to go back. Dan needs me. She reached for Hoppy, but before she could grasp the old stuffed rabbit, her eyes closed and her body grew still. 6 Peering cautiously over the railing, Rose saw Abra disappear. Little bitchgirl could only stay here so long, then she had to go back for some R  R. Her presence at the Bluebell Campground wasnt much different from her presence that day in the supermarket, only this manifestation was much more powerful. And why? Because the man was assisting her. Boosting her. If he were dead when the girl returned Looking down at him, Rose called Id leave while you still have the chance, Danny. Dont make me punish you. 7 Silent Sarey was so focused on what was going on at Roof O the Worldlistening with every admittedly limited IQ point of her mind as well as with her earsthat she did not at first realize she was no longer alone in the shed. It was the smell that finally alerted her something rotten. Not garbage. She didnt dare turn, because the door was open and the man out there might see her. She stood still, the sickle in one hand. Sarey heard Rose telling the man to leave while he still had the chance, and that was when the shed door began swinging shut again, all on its own. Dont make me punish you! Rose called. That was her cue to burst out and put the sickle in the troublesome, meddling little girls neck, but since the girl was gone, the man would have to do. But before she could move, a cold hand slid over the wrist holding the sickle. Slid over it and clamped tight. She turnedno reason not to now, with the door closedand what she saw by the dim light filtering through the cracks in the old boards caused a scream to come bolting out of her usually silent throat. At some point while she had been concentrating, a corpse had joined her in the toolshed. His smiling, predatory face was the damp whitishgreen of a spoiled avocado. His eyes seemed almost to dangle from their sockets. His suit was splotched with ancient mold . . . but the multicolored confetti sprinkled on his shoulders was fresh. Great party, isnt it? he said, and as he grinned, his lips split open. She screamed again and drove the sickle into his left temple. The curved blade went deep and hung there, but there was no blood. Give us a kiss, dear, Horace Derwent said. From between his lips came the wiggling white remnant of a tongue. Its been a long time since Ive been with a woman. As his tattered lips, shining with decay, settled on Sareys, his hands closed around her throat. 8 Rose saw the shed door swing closed, heard the scream, and understood that she was now truly alone. Soon, probably in seconds, the girl would be back and it would be two against one. She couldnt allow that. She looked down at the man and summoned all of her steamamplified force. (choke yourself do it NOW) His hands rose toward his throat, but too slowly. He was fighting her, and with a degree of success that was infuriating. She would have expected a battle from the bitchgirl, but that rube down there was an adult. She should have been able to brush aside any steam remaining to him like mist. Still, she was winning. His hands went up to his chest . . . his shoulders . . . finally to his throat. There they waveredshe could hear him panting with effort. She bore down, and the hands gripped, shutting off his windpipe. (thats right you interfering bastard squeeze squeeze and SQUEE) Something hit her. Not a fist; it felt more like a gust of tightly compressed air. She looked around and saw nothing but a shimmer, there for a moment and then gone. Less than three seconds, but enough to break her concentration, and when she turned back to the railing, the girl had returned. It wasnt a gust of air this time; it was hands that felt simultaneously large and small. They were in the small of her back. They were pushing. The bitchgirl and her friend, working togetherjust what Rose had wanted to avoid. A worm of terror began to unwind in her stomach. She tried to step back from the rail and could not. It was taking all her strength just to stand pat, and with no supporting force from the True to help her, she didnt think shed be able to do that for long. Not long at all. If not for that gust of air . . . that wasnt him and she wasnt here . . . One of the hands left the small of her back and slapped the hat from her head. Rose howled at the indignity of itnobody touched her hat, nobody!and for a moment summoned enough power to stagger back from the railing and toward the center of the platform. Then those hands returned to the small of her back and began pushing her forward again. She looked down at them. The man had his eyes closed, concentrating so hard that the cords stood out on his neck and sweat rolled down his cheeks like tears. The girls eyes, however, were wide and merciless. She was staring up at Rose. And she was smiling. Rose pushed backward with all her strength, but she might have been pushing against a stone wall. One that was moving her relentlessly forward, until her stomach was pressing against the rail. She heard it creak. She thought, for just a moment, of trying to bargain. Of telling the girl that they could work together, start a new Knot. That instead of dying in 2070 or 2080, Abra Stone could live a thousand years. Two thousand. But what good would it do? Was there ever a teenage girl who felt anything less than immortal? So instead of bargaining, or begging, she screamed defiance down at them. Fuck you! Fuck you both! The girls terrible smile widened. Oh, no, she said. Youre the one whos fucked. No creak this time; there was a crack like a rifleshot, and then Rose the Hatless was falling. 9 She hit the ground headfirst and began to cycle at once. Her head was cocked (like her hat, Dan thought) on her shattered neck at an angle that was almost insouciant. Dan held Abras handflesh that came and went in his own as she did her own cycling between her back stoop and Roof O the Worldand they watched together. Does it hurt? Abra asked the dying woman. I hope it does. I hope it hurts a lot. Roses lips pulled back in a sneer. Her human teeth were gone; all that remained was that single discolored tusk. Above it, her eyes floated like living blue stones. Then she was gone. Abra turned to Dan. She was still smiling, but now there was no anger or meanness in it. (I was afraid for you I was afraid she might) (she almost did but there was someone) He pointed up to where the broken pieces of the railing jutted against the sky. Abra looked there, then looked back at Dan, puzzled. He could only shake his head. It was her turn to point, not up but down. (once there was a magician who had a hat like that his name was Mysterio) (and you hung spoons on the ceiling) She nodded but didnt raise her head. She was still studying the hat. (you need to get rid of it) (how) (burn it Mr. Freeman says he quit smoking but he still does I could smell it in the truck hell have matches) You have to, she said. Will you? Do you promise? Yes. (I love you Uncle Dan) (love you too) She hugged him. He put his arms around her and hugged her back. As he did, her body became rain. Then mist. Then gone. 10 On the back stoop of a house in Anniston, New Hampshire, in a dusk that would soon deepen to night, a little girl sat up, got to her feet, and then swayed, on the edge of a faint. There was no chance of her falling down; her parents were there at once. They carried her inside together. Im okay, Abra said. You can put me down. They did, carefully. David Stone stood close, ready to catch her at the slightest kneebuckle, but Abra stood steady in the kitchen. What about Dan? John asked. Hes fine. Mr. Freeman smashed up his truckhe had toand he got a cutshe put her hand to the side of his facebut I think hes okay. And them? The True Knot? Abra raised a hand to her mouth and blew across the palm. Gone. And then What is there to eat? Im really hungry. 11 Fine might have been a bit of an overstatement in Dans case. He walked to the truck, where he sat in the open drivers side door, getting his breath back. And his wits. We were on vacation, he decided. I wanted to visit my old stomping grounds in Boulder. Then we came up here to take in the view from Roof O the World, but the campground was deserted. I was feeling frisky and bet Billy I could drive his truck straight up the hill to the lookout. I was going too fast and lost control. Hit one of the support posts. Really sorry. Damn fool stunt. He would get hit with one hell of a fine, but there was an upside he would pass the Breathalyzer with flying colors. Dan looked in the glove compartment and found a can of lighter fluid. No Zippothat would be in Billys pants pocketbut there were indeed two books of halfused matches. He went to the hat and doused it with the lighter fluid until it was soaking. Then he squatted, touched a match, and flicked it into the hats upturned bowl. The hat didnt last long, but he moved upwind until it was nothing but ashes. The smell was foul. When he looked up, he saw Billy trudging toward him, wiping at his bloody face with his sleeve. As they tromped through the ashes, making sure there wasnt a single ember that might spark a wildfire, Dan told him the story they would tell the Colorado State Police when they arrived. Ill have to pay to have that thing repaired, and I bet it costs a bundle. Good thing Ive got some savings. Billy snorted. Whos gonna chase you for damages? Theres nothing left of those True Knot folks but their clothes. I looked. Unfortunately, Dan said, Roof O the World belongs to the great State of Colorado. Ouch, Billy said. Hardly seems fair, since you just did Colorado and the rest of the world a favor. Wheres Abra? Back home. Good. And its over? Really over? Dan nodded. Billy was staring at the ashes of Roses tophat. Went up damn fast. Almost like a special effect in a movie. I imagine it was very old. And full of magic, he didnt add. The black variety. Dan went to the pickup and sat behind the wheel so he could examine his face in the rearview mirror. See anything that shouldnt be there? Billy asked. Thats what my mom always used to say when she caught me moonin over my own reflection. Not a thing, Dan said. A smile began to break on his face. It was tired but genuine. Not a thing in the world. Then lets call the police and tell em about our accident, Billy said. Ordinarily I got no use for the FiveO, but right about now I wouldnt mind some company. Place gives me the willies. He gave Dan a shrewd look. Full of ghosts, aint it? Thats why they picked it. That was why, no doubt about it. But you didnt need to be Ebenezer Scrooge to know there were good ghostie people as well as bad ones. As they walked down toward the Overlook Lodge, Dan paused to look back at Roof O the World. He was not entirely surprised to see a man standing on the platform by the broken rail. He raised one hand, the summit of Pawnee Mountain visible through it, and sketched a flying kiss that Dan remembered from his childhood. He remembered it well. It had been their special endoftheday thing. Bedtime, doc. Sleep tight. Dream up a dragon and tell me about it in the morning. Dan knew he was going to cry, but not now. This wasnt the time. He lifted his own hand to his mouth and returned the kiss. He looked for a moment longer at what remained of his father. Then he headed down to the parking lot with Billy. When they got there, he looked back once more. Roof O the World was empty. UNTIL YOU SLEEP FEAR stands for face everything and recover. Old AA saying ANNIVERSARY 1 The Saturday noon AA meeting in Frazier was one of the oldest in New Hampshire, dating back to 1946, and had been founded by Fat Bob D., who had known the Programs founder, Bill Wilson, personally. Fat Bob was long in his grave, a victim of lung cancerin the early days most recovering alkies had smoked like chimneys and newbies were routinely told to keep their mouths shut and the ashtrays emptybut the meeting was still well attended. Today it was SRO, because when it was over there would be pizza and a sheet cake. This was the case at most anniversary meetings, and today one of their number was celebrating fifteen years of sobriety. In the early years he had been known as Dan or Dan T., but word of his work at the local hospice had gotten around (the AA magazine was not known as The Grapevine for nothing), and now he was most commonly called Doc. Since his parents had called him that, Dan found the nickname ironic . . . but in a good way. Life was a wheel, its only job was to turn, and it always came back to where it had started. A real doctor, this one named John, chaired at Dans request, and the meeting followed its usual course. There was laughter when Randy M. told how he had thrown up all over the cop who arrested him on his last DUI, and more when he went on to say he had discovered a year later that the cop himself was in the Program. Maggie M. cried when she told (shared, in AA parlance) how she had again been denied joint custody of her two children. The usual clichs were offeredtime takes time, it works if you work it, dont quit until the miracle happensand Maggie eventually quieted to sniffles. There was the usual cry of Higher Power says turn it off! when a guys cell phone rang. A gal with shaky hands spilled a cup of coffee; a meeting without at least one spilled cup of joe was rare indeed. At ten to one, John D. passed the basket (We are selfsupporting through our own contributions), and asked for announcements. Trevor K., who opened the meeting, stood and askedas he always didfor help cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the chairs. Yolanda V. did the Chip Club, giving out two whites (twentyfour hours) and a purple (five monthscommonly referred to as the Barney Chip). As always, she ended by saying, If you havent had a drink today, give yourself and your Higher Power a hand. They did. When the applause died, John said, We have a fifteenyear anniversary today. Will Casey K. and Dan T. come on up here? The crowd applauded as Dan walked forwardslowly, to keep pace with Casey, who now walked with a cane. John handed Casey the medallion with XV printed on its face, and Casey held it up so the crowd could see it. I never thought this guy would make it, he said, because he was AA from the start. By which I mean, an asshole with attitude. They laughed dutifully at this oldie. Dan smiled, but his heart was beating hard. His one thought right now was to get through what came next without fainting. The last time hed been this scared, he had been looking up at Rose the Hat on the Roof O the World platform and trying to keep from strangling himself with his own hands. Hurry up, Casey. Please. Before I lose either my courage or my breakfast. Casey might have been the one with the shining . . . or perhaps he saw something in Dans eyes. In any case, he cut it short. But he defied my expectations and got well. For every seven alcoholics who walk through our doors, six walk back out again and get drunk. The seventh is the miracle we all live for. One of those miracles is standing right here, big as life and twice as ugly. Here you go, Doc, you earned this. He passed Dan the medallion. For a moment Dan thought it would slip through his cold fingers and fall to the floor. Casey folded his hand around it before it could, and then folded the rest of Dan into a massive hug. In his ear he whispered, Another year, you sonofabitch. Congratulations. Casey stumped up the aisle to the back of the room, where he sat by right of seniority with the other oldtimers. Dan was left alone at the front, clenching his fifteenyear medallion so hard the tendons stood out on his wrist. The assembled alkies stared at him, waiting for what longtime sobriety was supposed to convey experience, strength, and hope. A couple of years ago . . . he began, and then had to clear his throat. A couple of years ago, when I was having coffee with that gimpylegged gentleman whos just now sitting down, he asked me if Id done the fifth step Admitted to God, ourselves, and another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. I told him Id done most of it. For folks who dont have our particular problem, that probably would have been enough . . . and thats just one of the reasons we call them Earth People. They chuckled. Dan drew a deep breath, telling himself if he could face Rose and her True Knot, he could face this. Only this was different. This wasnt Dan the Hero; it was Dan the Scumbag. He had lived long enough to know there was a little scumbag in everyone, but it didnt help much when you had to take out the trash. He told me that he thought there was one wrong I couldnt quite get past, because I was too ashamed to talk about it. He told me to let it go. He reminded me of something you hear at almost every meetingwere only as sick as our secrets. And he said if I didnt tell mine, somewhere down the line Id find myself with a drink in my hand. Was that the gist of it, Case? From the back of the room Casey nodded, his hands folded over the top of his cane. Dan felt the stinging at the back of his eyes that meant tears were on the way and thought, God help me to get through this without bawling. Please. I didnt spill it. Id been telling myself for years it was the one thing Id never tell anyone. But I think he was right, and if I start drinking again, Ill die. I dont want to do that. Ive got a lot to live for these days. So . . . The tears had come, the goddam tears, but he was in too deep to back out now. He wiped them away with the hand not fisted around the medallion. You know what it says in the Promises? About how well learn not to regret the past, or wish to shut the door on it? Pardon me for saying so, but I think thats one item of bullshit in a program full of true things. I regret plenty, but its time to open the door, little as I want to. They waited. Even the two ladies who had been doling out pizza slices on paper plates were now standing in the kitchen doorway and watching him. Not too long before I quit drinking, I woke up next to some woman I picked up in a bar. We were in her apartment. The place was a dump, because she had almost nothing. I could relate to that because I had almost nothing, and both of us were probably in Broke City for the same reason. You all know what that reason is. He shrugged. If youre one of us, the bottle takes your shit, thats all. First a little, then a lot, then everything. This woman, her name was Deenie. I dont remember much else about her, but I remember that. I put on my clothes and left, but first I took her money. And it turned out she had at least one thing I didnt, after all, because while I was going through her wallet, I looked around and her son was standing there. Little kid still in diapers. This woman and I had bought some coke the night before, and it was still on the table. He saw it and reached for it. He thought it was candy. Dan wiped his eyes again. I took it away and put it where he couldnt get it. That much I did. It wasnt enough, but that much I did. Then I put her money in my pocket and walked out of there. Id do anything to take that back. But I cant. The women in the doorway had gone back to the kitchen. Some people were looking at their watches. A stomach grumbled. Looking at the assembled nine dozen alkies, Dan realized an astounding thing what hed done didnt revolt them. It didnt even surprise them. They had heard worse. Some had done worse. Okay, he said. Thats it. Thanks for listening. Before the applause, one of the oldtimers in the back row shouted out the traditional question Howd you do it, Doc? Dan smiled and gave the traditional answer. One day at a time. 2 After the Our Father, and the pizza, and the chocolate cake with the big number XV on it, Dan helped Casey back to his Tundra. A sleety rain had begun to fall. Spring in New Hampshire, Casey said sourly. Aint it wonderful. Raineth drop and staineth slop, Dan said in a declamatory voice, and how the wind doth ram! Skiddeth bus and sloppest us, damn you, sing goddam. Casey stared at him. Did you just make that up? Nah. Ezra Pound. When are you going to quit dicking around and get that hip replaced? Casey grinned. Next month. I decided that if you can tell your biggest secret, I can get my hip replaced. He paused. Not that your secret was all that fucking big, Danno. So I discovered. I thought theyd run from me, screaming. Instead, they stood around eating pizza and talking about the weather. If youd told em you killed a blind gramma, theyd have stayed to eat the pizza and cake. Free is free. He opened the drivers door. Boost me, Danno. Dan boosted him. Casey wriggled ponderously, getting comfortable, then keyed the engine and got the wipers to work on the sleet. Everythings smaller when its out, he said. I hope youll pass that on to your pigeons. Yes, O Wise One. Casey looked at him sadly. Go fuck yourself, sweetheart. Actually, Danny said, I think Ill go back in and help put away the chairs. And that was what he did. UNTIL YOU SLEEP 1 No balloons or magician at Abra Stones birthday party this year. She was fifteen. There was neighborhoodrattling rock music slamming through the outdoor speakers Dave Stoneably assisted by Billy Freemanhad set up. The adults had cake, ice cream, and coffee in the Stone kitchen. The kids took over the downstairs family room and the back lawn, and from the sound of them, they had a blast. They started to leave around five oclock, but Emma Deane, Abras closest friend, stayed for supper. Abra, resplendent in a red skirt and offtheshoulder peasant blouse, bubbled with good cheer. She exclaimed over the charm bracelet Dan gave her, hugged him, kissed him on the cheek. He smelled perfume. That was new. When Abra left to accompany Emma back to her house, the two of them chattering their way happily down the walk, Lucy leaned toward Dan. Her mouth was pursed, there were new lines around her eyes, and her hair was showing the first touches of gray. Abra seemed to have put the True Knot behind her; Dan thought Lucy never would. Will you talk to her? About the plates? Im going outside to watch the sun go down over the river. Maybe youll send her to visit with me a little when she gets back from the Deanes. Lucy looked relieved, and Dan thought David did, as well. To them she would always be a mystery. Would it help to tell them she would always be one to him? Probably not. Good luck, chief, Billy said. On the back stoop where Abra had once lain in a state that wasnt unconsciousness, John Dalton joined him. Id offer to give you moral support, but I think you have to do this alone. Have you tried talking to her? Yes. At Lucys request. No good? John shrugged. Shes pretty closed up on the subject. I was, too, Dan said. At her age. But you never broke every plate in your mothers antique breakfront, did you? My mother didnt have a breakfront, Dan said. He walked down to the bottom of the Stones sloping backyard and regarded the Saco, which had, courtesy of the declining sun, become a glowing scarlet snake. Soon the mountains would eat the last of the sunlight and the river would turn gray. Where there had once been a chainlink fence to block the potentially disastrous explorations of young children, there was now a line of decorative bushes. David had taken the fence down the previous October, saying Abra and her friends no longer needed its protection; they could all swim like fish. But of course there were other dangers. 2 The color on the water had faded to the faintest pink tingeashes of roseswhen Abra joined him. He didnt have to look around to know she was there, or to know she had put on a sweater to cover her bare shoulders. The air cooled quickly on spring evenings in central New Hampshire even after the last threat of snow was gone. (I love my bracelet Dan) She had pretty much dropped the uncle part. (Im glad) They want you to talk to me about the plates, she said. The spoken words had none of the warmth that had come through in her thoughts, and the thoughts were gone. After the very pretty and sincere thankyou, she had closed her inner self off to him. She was good at that now, and getting better every day. Dont they? Do you want to talk about them? I told her I was sorry. I told her I didnt mean to. I dont think she believed me. (I do) Because you know. They dont. Dan said nothing, and passed on only a single thought (?) They dont believe me about anything! she burst out. Its so unfair! I didnt know there was going to be booze at Jennifers stupid party, and I didnt have any! Still, she grounds me for two fucking weeks! (? ? ?) Nothing. The river was almost entirely gray now. He risked a look at her and saw she was studying her sneakersred to match her skirt. Her cheeks now also matched her skirt. All right, she said at last, and although she still didnt look at him, the corners of her lips turned up in a grudging little smile. Cant fool you, can I? I had one swallow, just to see what it tasted like. What the big deal is. I guess she smelled it on my breath when I came home. And guess what? There is no big deal. It tasted horrible. Dan did not reply to this. If he told her he had found his own first taste horrible, that he had also believed there was no big deal, no precious secret, she would have dismissed it as windy adult bullshit. You could not moralize children out of growing up. Or teach them how to do it. I really didnt mean to break the plates, she said in a small voice. It was an accident, like I told her. I was just so mad. You come by it naturally. What he was remembering was Abra standing over Rose the Hat as Rose cycled. Does it hurt? Abra had asked the dying thing that looked like a woman (except, that was, for the one terrible tooth). I hope it does. I hope it hurts a lot. Are you going to lecture me? And, with a lilt of contempt I know thats what she wants. Im out of lectures, but I could tell you a story my mother told me. Its about your greatgrandfather on the Jack Torrance side. Do you want to hear it? Abra shrugged. Get it over with, the shrug said. Don Torrance wasnt an orderly like me, but close. He was a male nurse. He walked with a cane toward the end of his life, because he was in a car accident that messed up his leg. And one night, at the dinner table, he used that cane on his wife. No reason; he just started in whaling. He broke her nose and opened her scalp. When she fell out of her chair onto the floor, he got up and really went to work on her. According to what my father told my mom, he would have beaten her to death if Brett and Mikethey were my uncleshadnt pulled him away. When the doctor came, your greatgrandfather was down on his knees with his own little medical kit, doing what he could. He said she fell downstairs. GreatGramthe momo you never met, Abrabacked him up. So did the kids. Why? she breathed. Because they were scared. Laterlong after Don was deadyour grandfather broke my arm. Then, in the Overlookwhich stood where Roof O the World stands todayyour grandfather beat my mother almost to death. He used a roque mallet instead of a cane, but it was basically the same deal. I get the point. Years later, in a bar in St. Petersburg Stop! I said I get it! She was trembling. I beat a man unconscious with a pool cue because he laughed when I scratched. After that, the son of Jack and the grandson of Don spent thirty days in an orange jumpsuit, picking up trash along Highway 41. She turned away, starting to cry. Thanks, Uncle Dan. Thanks for spoiling . . . An image filled his head, momentarily blotting out the river a charred and smoking birthday cake. In some circumstances, the image would have been funny. Not in these. He took her gently by the shoulders and turned her back to him. Theres nothing to get. Theres no point. Theres nothing but family history. In the words of the immortal Elvis Presley, its your baby, you rock it. I dont understand. Someday you may write poetry, like Concetta. Or push someone else off a high place with your mind. I never would . . . but Rose deserved it. Abra turned her wet face up to his. No argument there. So why do I dream about it? Why do I wish I could take it back? She would have killed us, so why do I wish I could take it back? Is it the killing you wish you could take back, or the joy of the killing? Abra hung her head. Dan wanted to take her in his arms, but didnt. No lecture and no moral. Just blood calling to blood. The stupid urges of wakeful people. And youve made it to a time of life when youre completely awake. Its hard for you. I know that. Its hard for everyone, but most teenagers dont have your abilities. Your weapons. What do I do? What can I do? Sometimes I get so angry . . . not just at her, but at teachers . . . kids at school who think theyre such hot shits . . . the ones who laugh if youre not good at sports or wearing the wrong clothes and stuff . . . Dan thought of advice Casey Kingsley had once given him. Go to the dump. Huh? She goggled at him. He sent her a picture Abra using her extraordinary talentsthey had still not peaked, incredible but trueto overturn discarded refrigerators, explode dead TV sets, throw washing machines. Seagulls flew up in startled packs. Now she didnt goggle; she giggled. Will that help? Better the dump than your mothers plates. She cocked her head and fixed him with merry eyes. They were friends again, and that was good. But those plates were uglee. Will you try it? Yes. And by the look of her, she couldnt wait. One other thing. She grew solemn, waiting. You dont have to be anyones doormat. Thats good, isnt it? Yes. Just remember how dangerous your anger can be. Keep it His cell phone rang. You should get that. He raised his eyebrows. Do you know who it is? No, but I think its important. He took the phone out of his pocket and read the display. RIVINGTON HOUSE. Hello? Its Claudette Albertson, Danny. Can you come? He ran a mental inventory of the hospice guests currently on his blackboard. Amanda Ricker? Or Jeff Kellogg? It turned out to be neither. If you can come, you better do it right away, Claudette said. While hes still conscious. She hesitated. Hes asking for you. Ill come. Although if its as bad as you say, hell probably be gone when I get there. Dan broke the connection. I have to go, honey. Even though hes not your friend. Even though you dont even like him. Abra looked thoughtful. Even though. Whats his name? I didnt get that. (Fred Carling) He sent this and then wrapped his arms around her, tighttighttight. Abra did the same. Ill try, she said. Ill try real hard. I know you will, he said. I know you will.


Listen, Abra, I love you so much. She said, Im glad. 3 Claudette was at the nurses station when he came in fortyfive minutes later. He asked the question he had asked dozens of times before Is he still with us? As if it were a bus ride. Barely. Conscious? She waggled a hand. In and out. Azzie? Was there for awhile, but scooted when Dr. Emerson came in. Emersons gone now, hes checking on Amanda Ricker. Azzie went back as soon as he left. No transport to the hospital? Cant. Not yet. There was a fourcar pileup on Route 119 across the border in Castle Rock. Lots of injuries. Four ambos on the way, also LifeFlight. Going to the hospital will make a difference to some of them. As for Fred . . . She shrugged. What happened? You know our Fredjunk food junkie. Mickey Ds is his second home. Sometimes he looks when he runs across Cranmore Avenue, sometimes he doesnt. Just expects people to stop for him. She wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue, looking like a little kid whos just gotten a mouthful of something bad. Brussels sprouts, maybe. That attitude. Dan knew Freds routine, and he knew the attitude. He was going for his evening cheeseburger, Claudette said. The cops took the woman who hit him to jailchick was so drunk she could hardly stand up, thats what I heard. They brought Fred here. His face is scrambled eggs, his chest and pelvis are crushed, one legs almost severed. If Emerson hadnt been here doing rounds, Fred would have died right away. We triaged him, stopped the bleeding, but even if hed been in peak condition . . . which dear old Freddy most definitely aint . . . She shrugged. Emerson says they will send an ambo after the Castle Rock mess is cleaned up, but hell be gone by then. Dr. Emerson wouldnt commit on that, but I believe Azreel. You better go on down there, if youre going. I know you never cared for him . . . Dan thought of the fingermarks the orderly had left on poor old Charlie Hayess arm. Sorry to hear itthat was what Carling had said when Dan told him the old man was gone. Fred all comfy, rocked back in his favorite chair and eating Junior Mints. But that is what theyre here for, isnt it? And now Fred was in the same room where Charlie had died. Life was a wheel, and it always came back around. 4 The door of the Alan Shepard Suite was standing halfopen, but Dan knocked anyway, as a courtesy. He could hear the harsh wheezeandgurgle of Fred Carlings breathing even from the hall, but it didnt seem to bother Azzie, who was curled up at the foot of the bed. Carling was lying on a rubber sheet, wearing nothing but bloodstained boxer shorts and an acre of bandages, most of them already seeping blood. His face was disfigured, his body twisted in at least three different directions. Fred? Its Dan Torrance. Can you hear me? The one remaining eye opened. The breathing hitched. There was a brief rasp that might have been yes. Dan went into the bathroom, wetted a cloth with warm water, wrung it out. These were things he had done many times before. When he returned to Carlings bedside, Azzie got to his feet, stretched in that luxurious, bowedback way cats have, and jumped to the floor. A moment later he was gone, to resume his evenings patrol. He limped a little now. He was a very old cat. Dan sat on the side of the bed and gently rubbed the cloth over the part of Fred Carlings face that was still relatively whole. How bads the pain? That rasp again. Carlings left hand was a twisted snarl of broken fingers, so Dan took the right one. You dont need to talk, just tell me. (not so bad now) Dan nodded. Good. Thats good. (but Im scared) Theres nothing to be scared of. He saw Fred at the age of six, swimming in the Saco with his brother, Fred always snatching at the back of his suit to keep it from falling off because it was too big, it was a handmedown like practically everything else he owned. He saw him at fifteen, kissing a girl at the Bridgton DriveIn and smelling her perfume as he touched her breast and wished this night would never end. He saw him at twentyfive, riding down to Hampton Beach with the Road Saints, sitting astride a Harley FXB, the Sturgis model, so fine, hes full of bennies and red wine and the day is like a hammer, everybody looking as the Saints tear by in a long and glittering caravan of fuckyou noise; life is exploding like fireworks. And he sees the apartment where Carling liveslivedwith his little dog, whose name is Brownie. Brownie aint much, just a mutt, but hes smart. Sometimes he jumps up in the orderlys lap and they watch TV together. Brownie troubles Freds mind because he will be waiting for Fred to come home, take him for a little walk, then fill up his bowl with Gravy Train. Dont worry about Brownie, Dan said. I know a girl whod be glad to take care of him. Shes my niece, and its her birthday. Carling looked up at him with his one functioning eye. The rattle of his breath was very loud now; he sounded like an engine with dirt in it. (can you help me please doc can you help me) Yes. He could help. It was his sacrament, what he was made for. It was quiet now in Rivington House, very quiet indeed. Somewhere close, a door was swinging open. They had come to the border. Fred Carling looked up him, asking what. Asking how. But it was so simple. You only need to sleep. (dont leave me) No, Dan said. Im here. Ill stay here until you sleep. Now he clasped Carlings hand in both of his. And smiled. Until you sleep, he said. May 1, 2011July 17, 2012 AUTHORS NOTE My first book with Scribner was Bag of Bones, in 1998. Anxious to please my new partners, I went out on tour for that novel. At one of the autographing sessions, some guy asked, Hey, any idea what happened to the kid from The Shining? This was a question Id often asked myself about that old bookalong with another What would have happened to Dannys troubled father if he had found Alcoholics Anonymous instead of trying to get by with what people in AA call whiteknuckle sobriety? As with Under the Dome and 112263, this was an idea that never quite left my mind. Every now and thenwhile taking a shower, watching a TV show, or making a long turnpike driveI would find myself calculating Danny Torrances age, and wondering where he was. Not to mention his mother, one more basically good human being left in Jack Torrances destructive wake. Wendy and Danny were, in the current parlance, codependents, people bound by ties of love and responsibility to an addicted family member. At some point in 2009, one of my recovering alcoholic friends told me a oneliner that goes like this When a codependent is drowning, somebody elses life flashes before his eyes. That struck me as too true to be funny, and I think it was at that point that Doctor Sleep became inevitable. I had to know. Did I approach the book with trepidation? You better believe it. The Shining is one of those novels people always mention (along with Salems Lot, Pet Sematary, and It) when they talk about which of my books really scared the bejeezus out of them. Plus, of course, there was Stanley Kubricks movie, which many seem to rememberfor reasons I have never quite understoodas one of the scariest films they have ever seen. (If you have seen the movie but not read the novel, you should note that Doctor Sleep follows the latter, which is, in my opinion, the True History of the Torrance Family.) I like to think Im still pretty good at what I do, but nothing can live up to the memory of a good scare, and I mean nothing, especially if administered to one who is young and impressionable. There has been at least one brilliant sequel to Alfred Hitchcocks Psycho (Mick Garriss Psycho IV, with Anthony Perkins reprising his role as Norman Bates), but people whove seen thator any of the otherswill only shake their heads and say no, no, not as good. They remember the first time they experienced Janet Leigh, and no remake or sequel can top that moment when the curtain is pulled back and the knife starts to do its work. And people change. The man who wrote Doctor Sleep is very different from the wellmeaning alcoholic who wrote The Shining, but both remain interested in the same thing telling a kickass story. I enjoyed finding Danny Torrance again and following his adventures. I hope you did, too. If thats the case, Constant Reader, were all good. Before letting you go, let me thank the people who need to be thanked, okay? Nan Graham edited the book. Righteously. Thanks, Nan. Chuck Verrill, my agent, sold the book. Thats important, but he also took all my phone calls and fed me spoonfuls of soothing syrup. Those things are indispensable. Russ Dorr did the research, but for whats wrong, blame me for misunderstanding. Hes a great physicians assistant and a Nordic monster of inspiration and good cheer. Chris Lotts supplied Italian when Italian was needed. Yo, Chris. Rocky Wood was my goto guy for all things Shining, providing me with names and dates I had either forgotten or plain got wrong. He also provided reams of info on every recreational vehicle and camper under the sun (the coolest was Roses EarthCruiser). The Rock knows my work better than I do myself. Look him up on the Web sometime. Hes got it going on. My son Owen read the book and suggested valuable changes. Chief among them was his insistence that we see Dan reach what recovered alcoholics call the bottom. My wife also read Doctor Sleep and helped to make it better. I love you, Tabitha. Thanks to you guys and girls who read my stuff, too. May you have long days and pleasant nights. Let me close with a word of caution when youre on the turnpikes and freeways of America, watch out for those Winnebagos and Bounders. You never know who might be inside. Or what. Bangor, Maine  SHANE LEONARD STEPHEN KING is the author of more than fifty books, all of them worldwide bestsellers. His novel 112263 was named a top ten book of 2011 by The New York Times Book Review and won the Los Angeles Times Book Prize for MysteryThriller as well as the Best Hardcover Novel award from the International Thriller Writers. He is the recipient of the 2003 National Book Foundation Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters. He lives in Bangor, Maine, with his wife, novelist Tabitha King. DOCTORSLEEPBOOK.COM MEET THE AUTHORS, WATCH VIDEOS AND MORE AT SimonandSchuster.com DISCOVER MORE GREAT BOOKS AT authors.simonandschuster.comStephenKing We hope you enjoyed reading this Scribner eBook. Join our mailing list and get updates on new releases, deals, bonus content and other great books from Scribner and Simon  Schuster. CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP or visit us online to sign up at eBookNews.SimonandSchuster.com SCRIBNER A Division of Simon  Schuster, Inc. 1230 Avenue of the Americas New York, NY 10020 www.SimonandSchuster.com This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the authors imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Copyright  2013 by Stephen King All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Scribner Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020. First Scribner hardcover edition September 2013 SCRIBNER and design are registered trademarks of The Gale Group, Inc., used under license by Simon  Schuster, Inc., the publisher of this work. The Simon  Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon  Schuster Speakers Bureau at 18662483049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com. DESIGNED BY ERICH HOBBING JACKET DESIGN BY TAL GORETSKY JACKET ILLUSTRATION BY SEAN FREEMAN BACK COVER PHOTOGRAPH BY MACGREGOR AND GORDON Library of Congress Control Number 2013000431 ISBN 9781476727653 ISBN 9781476727660 (ebook) Permissions Epigraph The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous  1939, 1955, 1976, 2001 by Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc. All rights reserved. Page 80 Y.M.C.A., written by Henri Belolo, Jacques Morali  Victor Willis  Cant Stop MusicScorpio Music, S.A. Pages 139 and 422 A Game of Chess from The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot  The Estate of T. S. Eliot. Reprinted by permission of Faber  Faber Ltd. Publishing Company. Collected Poems 19091962 by T. S. Eliot. Copyright 1936 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. Copyright  renewed 1964 by Thomas Stearns Eliot. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. All rights reserved. Pages 249250 Keeley, Edmund George Sefaris. 1967 Princeton University Press, 1995 renewed PUPrevised edition. Reprinted by permission of Princeton University Press. Page 251 Shorts  1940 by W. H. Auden, renewed  1974 by The Estate of W. H. Auden, from COLLECTED POEMS OF W. H. AUDEN by W. H. Auden. Used by permission of Random House, Inc., and Curtis Brown, Ltd. Any third party use of this material, outside of this publication, is prohibited. Interested parties must apply directly to Random House, Inc., for permission. Page 263 THE WRECK OF THE EDMUND FITZGERALD. Words and music by GORDON LIGHTFOOT  1976 (Renewed) MOOSE MUSIC LTD. Used by Permission of ALFRED MUSIC PUBLISHING CO., INC. All Rights Reserved. Page 517 Ancient Music by Ezra Pound, from PERSONAE, copyright 1926 by Ezra Pound. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp. and Faber  Faber Ltd. CONTENTS Epigraph Prefatory Matters Lockbox Rattlesnake Mama Part One Abra Chapter One Welcome to Teenytown Chapter Two Bad Numbers Chapter Three Spoons Chapter Four Paging Doctor Sleep Chapter Five The True Knot Chapter Six Weird Radio Part Two Empty Devils Chapter Seven Have You Seen Me? Chapter Eight Abras Theory of Relativity Chapter Nine The Voices of Our Dead Friends Chapter Ten Glass Ornaments Chapter Eleven Thome 25 Chapter Twelve They Call it Steam Part Three Matters of Life and Death Chapter Thirteen Cloud Gap Chapter Fourteen Crow Chapter Fifteen Swapsies Chapter Sixteen That Which Was Forgotten Chapter Seventeen Bitchgirl Part Four Roof o the World Chapter Eighteen Going West Chapter Nineteen Ghostie People Chapter Twenty Hub of the Wheel, Roof o the World Until You Sleep Anniversary Until You Sleep Authors Note About Stephen King