Doctor Sleep (The Shining, #2)(148)

Dan shook his head.

“But she could find out.”

“Could but won’t. She knows it’s wrong to peek, especially when it’s someone you care about. She’d no more do it than she’d spy on her parents when they were making love.”

“You know that from when you were a kid?”

“Yes. Sometimes you see a little—you can’t help it—but then you turn away.”

“Are you gonna be all right, Danny?”

“For awhile.” He thought of the sluggish flies on his lips and cheeks and forehead. “Long enough.”

“What about after?”

“I’ll worry about after after. One day at a time. Let’s check in. We need to get an early start.”

“Have you heard from Abra?”

Dan smiled. “She’s fine.”

At least so far.


5

But she wasn’t, not really.

She sat at her desk with a half-read copy of The Fixer in her hand, trying not to look at her bedroom window, lest she should see a certain someone looking in at her. She knew something was wrong with Dan, and she knew he didn’t want her to know what it was, but had been tempted to look anyway, in spite of all the years she’d taught herself to steer clear of APB: adult private business. Two things held her back. One was the knowledge that, like it or not, she couldn’t help him with it now. The other (this was stronger) was knowing he might sense her in his head. If so, he would be disappointed in her.

It’s probably locked up, anyway, she thought. He can do that. He’s pretty strong.

Not as strong as she was, though . . . or, if you put it in terms of the shining, as bright. She could open his mental lockboxes and peer at the things inside, but she thought doing so might be dangerous for both of them. There was no concrete reason for this, it was just a feeling—like the one she’d had about how it would be a good idea for Mr. Freeman to go with Dan—but she trusted it. Besides, maybe it was something that could help them. She could hope for that. True hope is swift, and flies on swallow’s wings—that was another line from Shakespeare.

Don’t you look at that window, either. Don’t you dare.

No. Absolutely not. Never. So she did, and there was Rose, grinning in at her from below her rakishly tilted hat. All billowing hair and pale porcelain skin and dark mad eyes and rich red lips masking that one snaggle tooth. That tusk.

You’re going to die screaming, bitchgirl.

Abra closed her eyes and thought hard

(not there not there not there)

and opened them again. The grinning face at the window was gone. But not really. Somewhere high in the mountains—at the roof of the world—Rose was thinking about her. And waiting.


6

The motel had a breakfast buffet. Because his traveling companion was watching him, Dan made a point of eating some cereal and yogurt. Billy looked relieved. While he checked them out, Dan strolled to the lobby men’s room. Once inside, he turned the lock, fell to his knees, and vomited up everything he’d eaten. The undigested cereal and yogurt floated in a red foam.

“All right?” Billy asked when Dan rejoined him at the desk.

“Fine,” Dan said. “Let’s roll.”


7

According to Billy’s road atlas, it was about twelve hundred miles from Cincinnati to Denver. Sidewinder lay roughly seventy-five miles further west, along roads full of switchbacks and lined with steep drops. Dan tried driving for awhile on that Sunday afternoon, but tired quickly and turned the wheel over to Billy again. He fell asleep, and when he woke up, the sun was going down. They were in Iowa—home of the late Brad Trevor.

(Abra?)

He had been afraid distance would make mental communication difficult or even impossible, but she came back promptly, and as strong as ever; if she’d been a radio station, she would have been broadcasting at 100,000 watts. She was in her room, pecking away on her computer at some homework assignment or other. He was both amused and saddened to realize she had Hoppy, her stuffed rabbit, on her lap. The strain of what they were doing had regressed her to a younger Abra, at least on the emotional side.

With the line between them wide open, she caught this.

(don’t worry about me I’m all right)

(good because you have a call to make)

(yes okay are you all right)

(fine)

She knew better but didn’t ask, and that was just the way he wanted it.

(have you got the)

She made a picture.

(not yet it’s Sunday stores not open)

Another picture, one that made him smile. A Walmart . . . except the sign out front read ABRA’S SUPERSTORE.

(they wouldn’t sell us what we need we’ll find one that will)

(okay I guess)

(you know what to say to her?)

(yes)

(she’ll try to suck you into a long conversation try to snoop don’t let her)

(I won’t)

(let me hear from you after so I won’t worry)

Of course he would worry plenty.

(I will I love you Uncle Dan)

(love you too)

He made a kiss. Abra made one back: big red cartoon lips. He could almost feel them on his cheek. Then she was gone.

Billy was staring at him. “You were just talkin to her, weren’t you?”

“Indeed I was. Eyes on the road, Billy.”