Doctor Sleep (The Shining #2)(150)

“Maybe I should get some Just For Men, while I’m at it.”

“Don’t sass me, you old fart.”

That made Billy grin. “Let’s get registered and get some food. You look better. Like you could actually eat.”

“Soup,” Dan said. “No sense pressing my luck.”

“Soup. Right.”

He ate it all. Slowly. And—reminding himself that this would be over one way or the other in less than twenty-four hours—he managed to keep it down. They dined in Billy’s room and when he was finally finished, Dan stretched out on the carpet. It eased the pain in his gut a little.

“What’s that?” Billy asked. “Some kind of yogi shit?”

“Exactly. I learned it watching Yogi Bear cartoons. Run it down for me again.”

“I got it, chief, don’t worry. Now you’re starting to sound like Casey Kingsley.”

“A scary thought. Now run it down again.”

“Abra starts pinging around Denver. If they have someone who can listen, they’ll know she’s coming. And that she’s in the neighborhood. We get to Sidewinder early—say four instead of five—and drive right past the road to the campground. They won’t see the truck. Unless they post a sentry down by the highway, that is.”

“I don’t think they will.” Dan thought of another AA aphorism: We’re powerless over people, places, and things. Like most alkie nuggets, it was seventy percent true and thirty percent rah-rah bullshit. “In any case, we can’t control everything. Carry on.”

“There’s a picnic area about a mile further up the road. You went there a couple of times with your mom, before you guys got snowed in for the winter.” Billy paused. “Just her and you? Never your dad?”

“He was writing. Working on a play. Go on.”

Billy did. Dan listened closely, then nodded. “Okay. You’ve got it.”

“Didn’t I say? Now can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“By tomorrow afternoon, will you still be able to walk a mile?”

“I’ll be able to.”

I better be.

10

Thanks to an early start—4 a.m., long before first light—Dan Torrance and Billy Freeman began to see a horizon-spanning cloud shortly after 9 a.m. An hour later, by which time the blue-gray cloud had resolved itself into a mountain range, they stopped in the town of Martenville, Colorado. There, on the short (and mostly deserted) main street, Dan saw not what he was hoping for, but something even better: a children’s clothing store called Kids’ Stuff. Half a block down was a drugstore flanked by a dusty-looking hockshop and a Video Express with CLOSING MUST SELL ALL STOCK AT BARGAIN PRICES soaped in the window. He sent Billy to Martenville Drugs & Sundries to get sunglasses and stepped through the door of Kids’ Stuff.

The place had an unhappy, losing-hope vibe. He was the only customer. Here was somebody’s good idea going bad, probably thanks to the big-box mall stores in Sterling or Fort Morgan. Why buy local when you could drive a little and get cheaper pants and dresses for back-to-school? So what if they were made in Mexico or Costa Rica? A tired-looking woman with a tired-looking hairdo came out from behind the counter and gave Dan a tired-looking smile. She asked if she could help him. Dan said she could. When he told her what he wanted, her eyes went round.

“I know it’s unusual,” Dan said, “but get with me on this a little. I’ll pay cash.”

He got what he wanted. In little losing-hope stores off the turnpike, the C-word went a long way.

11

As they neared Denver, Dan got in touch with Abra. He closed his eyes and visualized the wheel they both now knew about. In the town of Anniston, Abra did the same. It was easier this time. When he opened his eyes again, he was looking down the slope of the Stones’ back lawn at the Saco River, gleaming in the afternoon sun. Abra opened hers on a view of the Rockies.

“Wow, Uncle Billy, they’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Billy glanced at the man sitting beside him. Dan had crossed his legs in a way that was utterly unlike him, and was bouncing one foot. Color had come back into his cheeks, and there was a bright clarity in his eyes that had been missing on their run west.

“They sure are, honey,” he said.

Dan smiled and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the health Abra had brought to his face was fading. Like a rose without water, Billy thought.

“Anything?”

“Ping,” Dan said. He smiled again, but this one was weary. “Like a smoke detector that needs a battery change.”

“Do you think they heard it?”

“I sure hope so,” Dan said.

12

Rose was pacing back and forth near her EarthCruiser when Token Charlie came running up. The True had taken steam that morning, all but one of the canisters she had in storage, and on top of what Rose had taken on her own over the last couple of days, she was too wired even to think about sitting down.

“What?” she asked. “Tell me something good.”

“I got her, how’s that for good?” Wired himself, Charlie grabbed Rose by the arms and whirled her around, making her hair fly. “I got her! Just for a few seconds, but it was her!”

“Did you see the uncle?”