The Shining (The Shining #1)(108)
"-run. Sorry, but I got to run. Sorry, Danny ole kid ole doc, but I got to run. It's sure been fun, you son of a gun, but I got to hurry, I got to run."
(No!)
But as he watched, Dick Hallorann turned, put his cigarette back into the corner of his mouth, and stepped nonchalantly through the wall.
Leaving him alone.
And that was when the shadow-figure turned the corner, huge in the hallway's gloom, only the reflected red of its eyes clear.
(There you are! Now I've got you, you f**k! Now I'll teach you!)
It lurched toward him in a horrible, shambling run, the roque mallet swinging up and up and up. Danny scrambled backward, screaming, and suddenly he was through the wall and falling, tumbling over and over, down the hole, down the rabbit hole and into a land full of sick wonders.
Tony was far below him, also falling.
(I can't come anymore, Danny... he won't let me near you... none of them will let me near you... get Dick... get Dick...)
"Tony!" he screamed.
But Tony was gone and suddenly he was in a dark room. But not entirely dark. Muted light spilling from somewhere. It was Mommy and Daddy's bedroom. He could see Daddy's desk. But the room was a dreadful shambles. He had been in this room before. Mommy's record player overturned on the floor. Her records scattered on the rug. The mattress half off the bed. Pictures ripped from the walls. His cot lying on its side like a dead dog, the Violent Violet Volkswagen crushed to purple shards of plastic.
The light was coming from the bathroom door, half-open. Just beyond it a hand dangled limply, blood dripping from the tips of the fingers. And in the medicine cabinet mirror, the word REDRUM flashing off and on.
Suddenly a huge clock in a glass bowl materialized in front of it. There were no hands or numbers on the clockface, only a date written in red: DECEMBER 2. And then, eyes widening in horror, he saw the word REDRUM reflecting dimly from the glass dome, now reflected twice. And he saw that it spelled MURDER.
Danny Torrance screamed in wretched terror. The date was gone from the clockface. The clockface itself was gone, replaced by a circular black hole that swelled and swelled like a dilating iris. It blotted out everything and he fell forward, beginning to fall, falling, he was-
- falling off the chair.
For a moment he lay on the ballroom floor, breathing bard.
REDRUM.
MURDER.
REDRUM.
MURDER.
(The Red Death held sway over all!)
(Unmask! Unmask!)
And behind each glittering lovely mask, the as-yet unseen face of the shape that chased him down these dark hallways, its red eyes widening, blank and homicidal.
Oh, he was afraid of what face might come to light when the time for unmasking came around at last.
(DICK!)
he screamed with all his might. His head seemed to shiver with the force of it.
(!!! OH DICK OH PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COME!!!)
Above him the clock he had wound with the silver key continued to mark off the seconds and minutes and hours.
Part Five. Matters of Life and Death
Chapter 38. Florida
Mrs. Hallorann's third son, Dick, dressed in his cook's whites, a Lucky Strike parked in the corner of his mouth, backed his reclaimed Cadillac limo out of its space behind the One-A Wholesale Vegetable Mart and drove slowly around the building. Masterton, part owner now but still walking with the patented shuffle he had adopted back before World War II, was pushing a bin of lettuces into the high, dark building.
Hallorann pushed the button that lowered the passenger side window and hollered: "Those avocadoes is too damn high, you cheapskate!"
Masterton looked back over his shoulder, grinned widely enough to expose all three gold teeth, and yelled back, "And I know exactly where you can put em, my good buddy."
"Remarks like that I keep track of, bro."
Masterton gave him the finger. Hallorann returned the compliment.
"Get your cukes, did you?" Masterton asked.
"I did."
"You come back early tomorrow, I gonna give you some of the nicest new potatoes you ever seen."
"I send the boy," Hallorann said. "You comin up tonight?"
"You supplyin the juice, bro?"
"That's a big ten-four."
"I be there. You keep that thing off the top end goin home, you hear me? Every cop between here an St. Pete knows your name."
"You know all about it, huh?" Hallorann asked, grinning.
"I know more than you'll ever learn, my man."
"Listen to this sassy nigger. Would you listen?"
"Go on, get outta here fore I start throwin these lettuces."
"Go on an throw em. I'll take anything for free."
Masterton made as if to throw one. Hallorann ducked, rolled up the window, and drove on. He was feeling fine. For the last half hour or so he had been smelling oranges, but he didn't find that queer. For the last half hour he had been in a fruit and vegetable market.
It was 4:30 p. m., EST, the first day of December, Old Man Winter settling his frostbitten rump firmly onto most of the country, but down here the men wore open-throated shortsleeve shirts and the women were in light summer dresses and shorts. On top of the First Bank of Florida building, a digital thermometer bordered with huge grapefruits was flashing 79° over and over. Thank God for Florida, Hallorann thought, mosquitoes and all.