Doctor Sleep (The Shining, #2)(154)

“Pull your elbow in,” Rose said. “I see it. Just a little.”

Silent Sarey did as she was told and for a moment she was truly gone, at least until Rose concentrated. When she did that, Sarey was there again. But of course she knew Sarey was there. When the time came—and it wouldn’t be long—the bitchgirl wouldn’t.

“Good, Sarey!” she said warmly (or as warmly as she could manage). “Perhaps I won’t need you. If I do, you’ll use the sickle. And think of Andi when you do. All right?”

At the mention of Andi’s name, Sarey’s lips turned down in a moue of unhappiness. She stared at the sickle in the plastic bucket and nodded.

Rose walked over and took the padlock. “I’m going to lock you in now. The bitchgirl will read the ones in the Lodge, but she won’t read you. I’m sure of it. Because you’re the quiet one, aren’t you?”

Sarey nodded again. She was the quiet one, always had been.

(what about the)

Rose smiled. “The lock? Don’t you worry about that. Just worry about being still. Still and silent. Do you understand me?”

“Lup.”

“And you understand about the sickle?” Rose would not have trusted Sarey with a gun even if the True had one.

“Sicka. Lup.”

“If I get the better of her—and as full of steam as I am right now, that should be no problem—you’ll stay right where you are until I let you out. But if you hear me shout . . . let’s see . . . if you hear me shout don’t make me punish you, that means I need help. I’ll make sure that her back is turned. You know what happens then, don’t you?”

(I’ll climb the stairs and)

But Rose was shaking her head. “No, Sarey. You won’t need to. She’s 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 mustn’t throw caution to the winds. The girl was very strong.

“What will you listen for, Sarey?”

“Don’t make me punish lu.”

“And what will you be thinking of?”

The eyes, half-hidden by the shaggy bangs, gleamed. “Levenge.”

“That’s right. Revenge for Andi, murdered by that bitchgirl’s friends. But not unless I need you, because I want to do this myself.” Rose’s hands clenched, her nails digging into deep, blood-crusted crescents they had already made in her palms. “But if I need you, you come. Don’t hesitate or stop for anything. Don’t stop until you’ve put that sickle blade in her neck and see the end of it come out of her f*cking throat.”

Sarey’s 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, you’ll 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 can’t. You’ve got your own fish to fry.”

“What if you faint halfway down that path? Even if you don’t, how are you going to take on the whole bunch of them? The way you look now, you couldn’t go two rounds with a five-year-old.”

“I think pretty soon I’m 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 that’ll 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 hard—fiercely—and 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. “I’m counting on you to drive the Thanksgiving run out to Cloud Gap.”

“I’d 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 wasn’t sure if he was talking to God or Abra, and guessed it didn’t 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 didn’t get bumped around too much.”