a kind of DARK GLOW. No special contact lenses or special-effects tricks here; it's all in his face goading . . . hateful . . . powerful.
LINOGE
There's another bedtime story for a stormy night. I can see you in bed with your arm around your little boy's shoulders. "Buster, Daddy wants to tell you how he put the nasty queer man's eye out with the end of a pool cue, 'cause "
JACK pulls the trigger of the pistol. MIKE falls off the chair he's been sitting in. He utters a CRY OF PAIN. LINOGE never budges from his place on the bunk, but now MIKE is on the floor, face down.
FADE TO BLACK. THIS ENDS ACT 1.
Act 2
49 EXTERIOR: THE ISLAND MARKET NIGHT.
The storm is HOWLING, the snow falling so thick and fast the store looks like a ghost.
SOUND: A RENDING, SPLINTERING CRACK. A tree falls, missing GODSOE'S truck but mashing the front end of MOLLY'S little car and pulverizing one end of the porch rail.
JACK (voice-over) Mike! Mike, are you all right?
50 INTERIOR: THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE.
MIKE is getting to his knees. His right hand is clapped to his left biceps, and a little blood is trickling through his fingers. JACK is overwhelmed with remorse and terror at what he's done ... or almost done. He drops the gun back on the desk and rushes forward. MIKE, meanwhile, is getting to his feet.
(babbling) Mike, I'm sorry ... I didn't mean . . . are you all r
MIKE pushes him violently backward.
MIKE Keep a safe distance from him didn't I tell you that?
But that's not why MIKE pushed him; MIKE pushed him for being an asshole, and JACK knows it. He stands between the cell and the desk, his mouth quivering and his eyes wet. MIKE takes his hand away from his arm to examine the damage. His shirt is torn, and blood is oozing out of the rip.
158
STORM OF THE CENTURY 159
SOUND: ENGINES. The four-wheel drive and the Sno-Cat, approaching.
MIKE Barely clipped the skin. Lucky.
(relief from JACK) But six inches to the left, I'm dead and he's laughing.
MIKE turns and looks at the cell. One of the bars has a scar of fresh, gleaming metal. MIKE reaches out and touches this with the tip of one finger, his expression wondering.
MIKE Where
LINOGE Here.
He holds out one hand, curled into a fist. Like a man in a dream, MIKE puts his arm through the bars, his hand open and palm up.
Mike, no!
MIKE pays no attention. LINOGE'S curled hand hovers over his palm, then opens. Something small and black drops. MIKE withdraws his hand. JACK comes forward a step or two. MIKE tweezes the tiny object between his fingers and holds it up so they can both see it. It's the slug from the bullet JACK fired.
SOUND OF ENGINES IS LOUDER.
MIKE
(to LINOGE) You caught this? You did, didn't you?
LINOGE only looks at him, smiling, saying nothing.
51 EXTERIOR: THE MARKET NIGHT.
The Island Services four-wheel drive pulls into the parking area, and
160 STEPHEN KING
the Sno-Cat pulls in next to it. The four men get out and look at the downed tree that's mashed the car and the porch.
HATCH Will his insurance cover that, Robbie?
ROBBIE
(don't bother me with trivialities) Come on. Let's get out of this.
They start up the porch steps.
52 INTERIOR: THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE.
MIKE'S shirtsleeve is rolled up, showing a shallow gash across his biceps. There's an open first-aid kit on the desk beside the handgun. JACK puts a folded-over gauze pad on the wound, then anchors it with a Band-Aid.
Mike, I'm really sorry.
MIKE takes a deep breath, holds it, lets it out, and stops being mad. It takes an effort, but he manages.
The market's main door opens. The bell above it TINKLES; there's the CLOMP OF BOOTS and the MURMUR OF APPROACHING VOICES.
MIKE That's Hatch!
JACK About the stuff that guy said . . .
JACK turns a hateful, bewildered look on LINOGE, who looks back at him calmly. MIKE holds up a hand to quiet JACK. The door opens. HATCH comes in, followed by HENRY BRIGHT and KIRK FREEMAN. Last of all is ROBBIE BEALS, looking both truculent and scared. Not a good combination.
ROBBIE
All right, what's going on here?
STORM OF THE CENTURY 161 MIKE
Robbie, I wish I knew.
53 EXTERIOR: THE INTERSECTION OF MAIN AND ATLANTIC NIGHT.
The storm HOWLS. The drifts are deeper than ever now.
54 EXTERIOR: THE STORE WINDOW OF THE ISLAND DRUGSTORE NIGHT.
There's a mural showing winter scenes: folks sledding, skiing, and skating. Hanging in front of it on threads are bottles of vitamins.