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“Where are the rest? Do you know that now?”
“At a place called the Bluebird Campground. Or maybe it’s Bluebell. They own it. There’s a town
nearby. That’s where the supermarket is, the Sam’s. The town is called Sidewinder. Rose is there, and
the True. That’s what they call themselves, the . . . Dan? What’s wrong?”
Dan made no reply. For the moment, at least, he was incapable of speech. He was remembering
Dick Hallorann’s voice coming from Eleanor Ouellette’s dead mouth. He had asked Dick where the
empty devils were, and now the answer made sense.
In your childhood.
“Dan?” That was John. He sounded far away. “You’re as white as a sheet.”
It all made a weird kind of sense. He had known from the first—even before he actually saw it—
that the Overlook Hotel was an evil place. It was gone now, burned flat, but who was to say the evil
had also been burned away? Certainly not him. As a child, he had been visited by revenants who had
escaped.
This campground they own—it stands where the hotel stood. I know it. And sooner or later, I’ll have to go
back there. I know that, too. Probably sooner. But first—
“I’m all right,” he said.
“Want a Coke?” Abra asked. “Sugar solves lots of problems, that’s what I think.”
“Later. I have an idea. It’s sketchy, but maybe the four of us working together can turn it into a
plan.”
6
Snakebite Andi parked in the truckers’ lot of a turnpike rest area near Westfield, New York. Nut went
into the service plaza to get juice for Barry, who was now running a fever and had a painfully sore
throat. While they waited for him to come back, Crow put through a call to Rose. She answered on the
first ring. He filled her in as quickly as he could, then waited.
“What’s that I hear in the background?” she asked.
Crow sighed and rubbed one hand up a stubbled cheek. “That’s Jimmy Numbers. He’s crying.”
“Tell him to shut up. Tell him there’s no crying in baseball.”
Crow conveyed this, omitting Rose’s peculiar sense of humor. Jimmy, at the moment wiping
Barry’s face with a damp cloth, managed to muffle his loud and (Crow had to admit it) annoying sobs.
“That’s better,” Rose said.
“What do you want us to do?”
“Give me a second, I’m trying to think.”
Crow found the idea of Rose having to try to think almost as disturbing as the red spots that had
now broken out all over Barry’s face and body, but he did as he was told, holding the iPhone to his ear
but saying nothing. He was sweating. Fever, or just hot in here? Crow scanned his arms for red
blemishes and saw none. Yet.
“Are you on schedule?” Rose asked.
“So far, yes. A little ahead, even.”
There was a brisk double rap at the door. Andi looked out, then opened it.
“Crow? Still there?”
“Yes. Nut just came back with some juice for Barry. He’s got a bad sore throat.”
“Try this,” Walnut said to Barry, unscrewing the cap. “It’s apple. Still cold from the cooler. It’ll
soothe your gullet something grand.”