wrinkle her nose) and expanding the hunt outward in a beam-shape from there.
'You think he's in the woods, Ruth?' Casey Tremain asked.
'He must be,' she answered tiredly. Her head ached again. David was
(not-there)
no more in the woods than the President of the United States was. All the same...
In the back of her mind, tongue-twisters chased each other as restlessly as squirrels running on wire exercise wheels.
The dusk was not so thick she couldn't see Bryant Brown put a hand to his face and turn away from the others. There was a moment of awkward silence which Ruth finally broke.
'We need more men.'
'State cops, Ruth?' Casey asked.
She saw them all looking at her, their faces still and sober.
(no Ruth no)
(outsiders no outsiders we'll take care)
(take care of this business we don't need outsiders while)
(while we shed our old skins put on our new skins while)
(we 'become')
(if he's in the woods we'll hear him he'll call)
(call with his mind)
(no outsiders Ruth shhhh shhhh for your life Ruth we)
(we all love you but no outsiders)
These voices, rising in her mind, rising in the still, humid dark: she looked and saw only dark shapes and white faces, shapes and faces that for a moment barely seemed human. How many of you still have your teeth? Ruth McCausland thought hysterically.
She opened her mouth, thinking she might scream, but her voice sounded - at least to her own ears - normal and natural. In her mind, the tongue-twisters
(pretty Patsy picked some Betty Bitter bought some)
turned faster than ever.
'I don't think we need them just now, Casey, do you?'
Casey looked at her, a little puzzled.
'Well, I guess that'd be up to you, Ruth.'
'Fine,' she said. 'Henry ... John ... you others. Make some calls. I want fifty woods-wise men and women here before we go in. Everyone who shows up at the Browns' has got to have a flashlight with him or he's not going near those woods. We've got a little boy lost; we don't need to add any grown men or women.'
As she spoke, authority grew in her voice; the shaky fear lessened. They looked at her respectfully.
'I'll call Adley McKeen and Dick Allison. Bryant, go back and tell Marie to put on lots of coffee. It's going to be a long night.'
They moved off in different directions, the men who had calls to make headed in the direction of Henry Applegate's house. The Browns' was nearer, but the situation had become worse and none of them wanted to go there just now. Not while Bryant was telling his wife that Ruth McCausland had decided their four-year-old son was probably lost in the
(not-there)
big woods after all.
Ruth was overwhelmed with weariness. She wished she could believe she was just going mad; if she could believe that, everything would be easier.
'Ruth?'
She looked up. Ev Hillman was standing there, his thin white hair flying around his skull. He looked troubled and afraid.
'Hilly's doped off again. His eyes are open, but -' He shrugged.
'I'm very sorry,' Ruth said.
'I'm takin' him to Derry. Bryant 'n' Marie want to stay here, o' course.'
'Why not Dr Warwick to start with?'
'Derry seems a better idea, that's all.' Ev looked at Ruth unwinkingly. His eyes were old man's eyes, red-rimmed, rheumy, their blue faded to something which was almost no color at all. Faded but not stupid. And Ruth suddenly realized, with a wallop of excitement that nearly rocked her head back on her neck, that she could barely read him at all! Whatever was happening here in Haven, Ev, like Bobbi's friend, was exempt. It was going on around him, and he knew about it - some - but he was not a part of it.
She felt an excitement which was followed by bitter envy.
'I think he'll be better off out of town. Don't you, Ruthie?'
'Yes,' she said slowly, thinking of those rising voices, thinking for the last time of how David was not-there and then pushing the lunatic idea away forever. Of course he was. Were they not human? They were. Were. But...
'Yes, I suppose he will.'
'You could come with us, Ruthie.'
She looked at him for a long time. 'Did Hilly do something, Ev? I see his name in your head. I can't see anything else - just that. Winking on and off like a neon sign.'
He looked at her, seemingly unsurprised by her tacit admission that she -sensible Ruth McCausland - was either reading his mind or believed she was.
'Maybe. He acts like he did. This ... this half-swoon he's in