“What part of ‘shut up and listen’ don’t you understand? Do you want this to happen or not?”
No reply, just waiting silence. Creepy waiting silence.
“From the parking lot, we’ll be able to see everything: the campground, the Lodge, and Roof O’ the World on top of the hill. My uncle and me better see you up there, and we better not see the people from your True Knot anywhere. They’re going to stay in that meeting-hall thingy while we do our business. In the big room, got it? Uncle Billy won’t know if they’re not where they’re supposed to be, but I will. If I pick up a single one somewhere else, we’ll be gone.”
“Your uncle will stay in his truck?”
“No. I’ll stay in the truck, until we’re sure. Then he’ll get back in and I’ll come to you. I don’t want him anywhere near you.”
“All right, dear. It will be as you say.”
No, it won’t. You’re lying.
But so was Abra, which kind of made them even.
“I have one really important question, dear,” Rose said pleasantly.
Abra almost asked what it was, then remembered her uncle’s advice. Her real uncle. One question, right. Which would lead to another . . . and another . . . and another.
“Choke on it,” she said, and hung up. Her hands began to tremble. Then her legs and arms and shoulders.
“Abra?” Mom. Calling from the foot of the stairs. She feels it. Just a little, but she does feel it. Is that a mom thing or a shining thing? “Honey, are you okay?”
“Fine, Mom! Getting ready for bed!”
“Ten minutes, then we’re coming up for kisses. Be in your PJs.”
“I will.”
If they knew who I was just talking to, Abra thought. But they didn’t. They only thought they knew what was going on. She was here in her bedroom, every door and window in the house was locked, and they believed that made her safe. Even her father, who had seen the True Knot in action.
But Dan knew. She closed her eyes and reached out to him.
9
Dan and Billy were under another motel canopy. And still nothing from Abra. That was bad.
“Come on, chief,” Billy said. “Let’s get you inside and—”
Then she was there. Thank God.
“Hush a minute,” Dan said, and listened. Two minutes later he turned to Billy, who thought the smile on his face finally made him look like Dan Torrance again.
“Was it her?”
“Yes.”
“How’d it go?”
“Abra says it went fine. We’re in business.”
“No questions about me?”
“Just which side of the family you were on. Listen, Billy, the uncle thing was a bit of a mistake. You’re way too old to be Lucy’s or David’s brother. When we stop tomorrow to do our errand, you need to buy sunglasses. Big ones. And keep that ball cap of yours jammed down all the way to your ears, so your hair doesn’t show.”
“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.