"Louis!" Steve screamed.
Louis didn't hesitate, didn't pause. He reached the top of the deadfall and began down the far side.
He'll fall, Steve thought incoherently. He's been damned lucky, incredibly lucky, but pretty soon he's going to fall and if his leg's the only thing he breaks-But Louis did not fall. He reached the other side of the deadfall, was temporarily out of Steve's sight, and then reappeared as he walked toward the woods again.
"Louis!" Steve yelled again.
This time Louis stopped and turned back.
Steve was struck dumb by what he saw. Besides the white hair, Louis's face was that of an old, old man.
At first there was no recognition at all in Louis's face. It dawned little by little, as if someone was turning a rheostat up in his brain. Louis's mouth was twitching. After a while Steve realized that Louis was trying to smile.
"Steve," he said in a cracked, uncertain voice. "Hello, Steve. I'm going to bury her. Have to do it with my bare hands, I guess. It may take until dark. The soil up there is very stony. I don't suppose you'd want to give me a hand?"
Steve opened his mouth, but no words came out. In spite of his surprise, in spite of his horror, he did want to give Louis a hand. Somehow, up here in the woods, it seemed very right, very. very natural.
"Louis," he managed to croak at last, "what happened? Good Christ, what happened? Was she... was she in the fire?"
"I waited too long with Gage," Louis said. "Something got into him because I waited too long. But it will be different with Rachel, Steve. I know it will."
He staggered a little, and Steve saw that Louis had gone insane-he saw this quite clearly. Louis was insane and abysmally weary. But somehow only the latter seemed to carry weight in his own bewildered mind.
"I could use some help," Louis said.
"Louis, even if I wanted to help you, I couldn't climb over that pile of wood."
"Oh yes," Louis said. "You could. If you just move steadily and don't look down.
That's the secret, Steve."
He turned then, and although Steve called his name, Louis moved off into the woods. For a few moments Steve could see the white of the sheet flickering through the trees. Then it was gone.
He ran across to the deadfall and began to climb it with no thought at all, at first feeling with his hands for good holds, attempting to crawl up it, and then gaining his feet. As he did so, a crazy daredevil exhilaration swept over him-it was like hitting on pure oxygen. He believed he could do it-and he did. Moving swiftly and surely, he reached the top. He stood there for a moment, swaying, watching Louis move along the path-the path which continued on the far side of the deadfall.
Louis turned and looked back at Steve. He held his wife, wrapped in a bloody sheet, in his arms.
"You may hear sounds," Louis said. "Sounds like voices. But they are just the loons, down south toward Prospect. The sound carries. It's funny."
"Louis-"
But Louis had turned away.
For a moment Steve almost followed him-it was very, very close.
I could help him, if that's what he wants... and I want to help him, yes.
That's the truth because there's more going on here than meets the eye and I want to know what it is. It seems very... well... very important. It seems like a secret. Like a mystery.
Then a branch snapped under one of his canted feet. It made a dry, dusty sound like a track starter's gun. It brought him back to exactly where he was and what he was doing. Terror leaped into him and he turned around in a clumsy circle, arms held out for balance, his tongue and throat oily with fright, his face bearing the dismayed grimace of a man who wakes up only to find he has sleepwalked his way onto a high skyscraper ledge.
She's dead and I think that maybe Louis has killed her, Louis has gone mad, utterly mad, but-But there was something worse than madness here-something much, much worse. It was as if there was a magnet somewhere out in those woods and he could feel it pulling at something in his brain. Pulling him toward that place where Louis was taking Rachel.
Come on, walk the path... walk the path and see where It goes. We got stuff to show you out here, Steverino, stuff they never told you about in the Atheists' Society back in Lake Forest.
And then, perhaps simply because it had enough for one day to feed on and lost interest in him, the call of the place in his mind simply ceased. Steve took two plunging, drunken steps back down the side of the deadfall. Then more branches let go with a grinding rattle and his left foot plunged into the tangled deadwood; harsh sharp splinters pulled off his sneaker and then tore into his flesh as he yanked free. He fell forward into the Pet Sematary, barely missing a piece of orange crate that could easily have punched into his stomach.