Doctor Sleep (The Shining #2)(140)

“There’s more,” John said. “What we did to those men at Cloud Gap . . . as far as this Rose is concerned, that’s down to Abra, no matter who actually did the killing.”

“What else could she expect?” Lucy asked indignantly. “Don’t they understand self-defense? Survival?”

“What Rose understands,” Dan said, “is that there’s a little girl who has challenged her.”

“Challenged—?”

“Abra got in touch telepathically. She told Rose that she was coming after her.”

“She what?”

“That temper of hers,” Dave said quietly. “I’ve told her a hundred times it would get her in trouble.”

“She’s not going anywhere near that woman, or her child-killing friends,” Lucy said.

Dan thought: Yes . . . and no. He took Lucy’s hand. She started to pull away, then didn’t.

“The thing you have to understand is really quite simple,” he said. “They will never stop.”

“But—”

“No buts, Lucy. Under other circumstances, Rose still might have decided to disengage—this is one crafty old she-wolf—but there’s one other factor.”

“Which is?”

“They’re sick,” John said. “Abra says it’s the measles. They might even have caught it from the Trevor boy. I don’t know if you’d call that divine retribution or just irony.”

“Measles?”

“I know it doesn’t sound like much, but believe me, it is. You know how, in the old days, measles could run through a whole family of kids? If that’s happening to this True Knot, it could wipe them out.”

“Good!” Lucy cried. The angry smile on her face was one Dan knew well.

“Not if they think Abra’s supersteam will cure them,” Dave said. “That’s what you need to understand, hon. This isn’t just a skirmish. To this bitch it’s a fight to the death.” He struggled and then brought out the rest of it. Because it had to be said. “If Rose gets the chance, she’ll eat our daughter alive.”

13

Lucy asked, “Where are they? This True Knot, where are they?”

“Colorado,” Dan said. “At a place called the Bluebell Campground in the town of Sidewinder.” That the site of the campground was the very place where he had once almost died at his father’s hands was a thing he didn’t want to say, because it would lead to more questions and more cries of coincidence. The one thing of which Dan was sure was that there were no coincidences.

“This Sidewinder must have a police department,” Lucy said. “We’ll call them and get them on this.”

“By telling them what?” John’s tone was gentle, nonargumentative.

“Well . . . that . . .”

“If you actually got the cops to go up there to the campground,” Dan said, “they’d find nothing but a bunch of middle-aged-going-on-older Americans. Harmless RV folks, the kind who always want to show you pictures of their grandkids. Their papers would all be in apple-pie order, from dog licenses to land deeds. The police wouldn’t find guns if they managed to get a search warrant—which they wouldn’t, no probable cause—because the True Knot doesn’t need guns. Their weapons are up here.” Dan tapped his forehead. “You’d be the crazy lady from New Hampshire, Abra would be your crazy daughter who ran away from home, and we’d be your crazy friends.”

Lucy pressed her palms to her temples. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“If you did a search of records, I think you’d find that the True Knot—under whatever name they might be incorporated—has been very generous to that particular Colorado town. You don’t shit in your nest, you feather it. Then, if bad times come, you have lots of friends.”

“These bastards have been around a long time,” John said. “Haven’t they? Because the main thing they take from this steam is longevity.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s right,” Dan said. “And as good Americans, I’m sure they’ve been busy making money the whole time. Enough to grease wheels a lot bigger than the ones that turn in Sidewinder. State wheels. Federal wheels.”

“And this Rose . . . she’ll never stop.”

“No.” Dan was thinking of the precognitive vision he’d had of her. The cocked hat. The yawning mouth. The single tooth. “Her heart is set on your daughter.”

“A woman who stays alive by killing children has no heart,” Dave said.

“Oh, she has one,” Dan said. “But it’s black.”

Lucy stood up. “No more talking. I want to go to her now. Everybody use the bathroom, because once we leave, we’re not stopping until we get to that motel.”

Dan said, “Does Concetta have a computer? If she does, I need to take a quick peek at something before we go.”

Lucy sighed. “It’s in her study, and I think you can guess the password. But if you take more than five minutes, we’re going without you.”

14

Rose lay awake in her bed, stiff as a poker, trembling with steam and fury.

When an engine started up at quarter past two, she heard it. Steamhead Steve and Baba the Russian. When another started at twenty till four, she heard that one, too. This time it was the Little twins, Pea and Pod. Sweet Terri Pickford was with them, no doubt looking nervously through the back window for any sign of Rose. Big Mo had asked to go along—begged to go along—but they had turned her down because Mo was carrying the disease.