from the corner of his eye, crossing the picnic area clearing, head down, feet noiseless on the thick pine duff. He was carrying a pistol in one hand and Billy Freeman’s rifle in the other. Trees bordered a parking lot for motor traffic; after a single look back, John disappeared into them. During summer, the little lot and all the picnic tables would have been full. On this weekday afternoon in late September, Cloud Gap was dead empty except for them.
Dave looked at Dan. Dan nodded. Abra’s father—an agnostic by inclination but a Catholic by association—made the sign of the cross in the air and then followed John into the woods.
“It’s so beautiful here, Daddy,” Dan said. His invisible passenger was now talking to Hoppy, because Hoppy was the only one left. Dan set the lumpy, balding, one-eyed rabbit on one of the picnic tables, then went back to the first passenger car for the wicker picnic basket. “That’s okay,” he said to the empty clearing, “I can get it, Dad.”
9
In the Deanes’ rec room, Abra pushed back her chair and stood up. “I have to go to the bathroom again. I feel sick to my stomach. And after that, I think I better go home.”
Emma rolled her eyes, but Mrs. Deane was all sympathy. “Oh, honey, is it your you-know?”
“Yes, and it’s pretty bad.”
“Do you have the things you need?”
“In my backpack. I’ll be fine. Excuse me.”
“That’s right,” Emma said, “quit while you’re winning.”
“Em-ma!” her mother cried.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Deane. She beat me at HORSE.” Abra went up the stairs, one hand pressed to her stomach in a way she hoped didn’t look too fakey. She glanced outside again, saw Mr. Freeman’s truck, but didn’t bother with the thumbs-up this time. Once in the bathroom, she locked the door and sat down on the closed toilet lid. It was such a relief to be done juggling so many different selves. Barry was dead; Emma and her mom were downstairs; now it was just the Abra in this bathroom and the Abra at Cloud Gap. She closed her eyes.
(Dan)
(I’m here)
(you don’t have to pretend to be me anymore)
She felt his relief, and smiled. Uncle Dan had tried hard, but he wasn’t cut out to be a chick.
A light, tentative knock at the door. “Girlfriend?” Emma. “You all right? I’m sorry if I was mean.”
“I’m okay, but I’m going to go home and take a Motrin and lie down.”
“I thought you were going to stay the night.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Isn’t your dad gone?”
“I’ll lock the doors until he gets back.”
“Well . . . want me to walk with you?”
“That’s okay.”
She wanted to be alone so she could cheer when Dan and her father and Dr. John took those things out. They would, too. Now that Barry was dead, the others were blind. Nothing could go wrong.
10
There was no breeze to rattle the brittle leaves, and with the Riv shut down, the picnic area at Cloud Gap was very quiet. There was only the muted conversation of the river below, the squall of a crow, and the sound of an approaching engine. Them. The ones the hat woman had sent. Rose. Dan flipped up one side of the wicker basket, reached in, and gripped the Glock .22 Billy had provided him with—from what source Dan didn’t know or care. What he cared about was that it could fire fifteen rounds without reloading, and if fifteen rounds weren’t enough, he was in a world of hurt. A ghost memory of his father came, Jack Torrance smiling his charming, crooked grin and saying, If that don’t work, I don’t know what to tellya. Dan looked at Abra’s old stuffed toy.
“Ready, Hoppy? I hope so. I hope we both are.”
11
Billy Freeman was slouched behind the wheel of his truck, but sat up in a hurry when Abra came out of the Deane house. Her friend—Emma—stood in the doorway. The two girls said goodbye, slapping palms first in an overhead high five, then down low. Abra started for her own house, across the street and four doors down. That wasn’t in the plan, and when she glanced at him, he raised both hands in a what gives gesture.
She smiled and shot him another quick thumbs-up. She thought everything was okay, he got that loud and clear, but seeing her outside and on her own made Billy uneasy, even if the freaks were twenty miles south of here. She was a powerhouse, and maybe she knew what she