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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SWAPSIES
1
You will remember what was forgotten.
In the aftermath of the Pyrrhic victory at Cloud Gap, the phrase haunted Dan, like a snatch of
irritating and nonsensical music that gets in your head and won’t let go, the kind you find yourself
humming even as you stumble to the bathroom in the middle of the night. This one was plenty
irritating, but not quite nonsensical. For some reason he associated it with Tony.
You will remember what was forgotten.
There was no question of taking the True Knot’s Winnebago back to their cars, which were parked
at Teenytown Station on the Frazier town common. Even if they hadn’t been afraid of being observed
getting out of it or leaving forensic evidence inside it, they would have refused without needing to
take a vote on the matter. It smelled of more than sickness and death; it smelled of evil. Dan had
another reason. He didn’t know if members of the True Knot came back as ghostie people or not, but
he didn’t want to find out.
So they threw the abandoned clothes and the drug paraphernalia into the Saco, where the stuff that
didn’t sink would float downstream to Maine, and went back as they had come, in The Helen Rivington.
David Stone dropped into the conductor’s seat, saw that Dan was still holding Abra’s stuffed rabbit,
and held out his hand for it. Dan passed it over willingly enough, taking note of what Abra’s father
held in his other hand: his BlackBerry.
“What are you going to do with that?”
Dave looked at the woods flowing by on both sides of the narrow-gauge tracks, then back at Dan.
“As soon as we get to where there’s cell coverage, I’m going to call the Deanes’ house. If there’s no
answer, I’m going to call the police. If there is an answer, and either Emma or her mother tells me
that Abra’s gone, I’m going to call the police. Assuming they haven’t already.” His gaze was cool and
measuring and far from friendly, but at least he was keeping his fear for his daughter—his terror,
more likely—at bay, and Dan respected him for that. Also, it would make him easier to reason with.
“I hold you responsible for this, Mr. Torrance. It was your plan. Your crazy plan.”
No use pointing out that they had all signed on to the crazy plan. Or that he and John were almost
as sick about Abra’s continued silence as her father. Basically, the man was right.
You will remember what was forgotten.
Was that another Overlook memory? Dan thought it was. But why now? Why here?
“Dave, she’s almost certainly been taken.” That was John Dalton. He had moved up to the car just
behind them. The last of the lowering sun came through the trees and flickered on his face. “If that’s
the case and you tell the police, what do you think will happen to Abra?”
God bless you, Dan thought. If I’d been the one to say it, I doubt if he would have listened. Because, at
bottom, I’m the stranger who was conspiring with his daughter. He’ll never be completely convinced that I’m not
the one who got her into this mess.