Doctor Sleep (The Shining #2)(155)

She fought them. “Let me go! I have to help her!”

“You can’t,” 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?”

“She’s 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 didn’t 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, knotty-pine 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 room’s 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 dog’s 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 it’s a place where we can be together. You know the wheel that turns when you go into someone else?”

“Uh-huh . . .”

“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 don’t feel the same as the rest.” She looked at him almost accusingly. “They weren’t here, were they? When you were a kid.”

“No. There weren’t any windows in my room, and the only door was the one that went into the rest of the caretaker’s 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 couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“You didn’t 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. “She’s up there, and she’s not looking this way, is she?”

“She better not be,” Dan said. “How bad is the pain, honey?”

“Bad,” she said. “But I don’t care. Because—”

She didn’t have to finish. He knew, and she smiled. This togetherness was what they had, and in spite of the pain that came with it—pain of all kinds—it was good. It was very good.

“Dan?”

“Yes, honey.”

“There are ghostie people out there. I can’t 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 he’s on time. And then all of this is going to happen very fast.”

“Uncle Dan?”

“What, Abra.”

“What’s inside you? That isn’t a ghost. It’s like—” He felt her shiver. “It’s like a monster.”

He said nothing.

She straightened and stepped away from him. “Look! Over there!”

An old Ford pickup was rolling into the visitor’s parking lot.

8

Rose stood with her hands on the lookout platform’s waist-high 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 bird-watching, so why hadn’t 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 that—yes, yes, yes—but 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 can’t take care of you alone, I’ll draw from the rest of the True. They’re all together in the main room, because you thought that was such a good idea. But there’s something you didn’t take into consideration. When we’re together we’re linked, we’re 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, and—once she understood the job—completely obedient. Also, she had her own reasons for wanting the bitchgirl laid out dead on the ground at the foot of the lookout platform.