She grips a faucet handle in each hand and turns them, starting the water. She pushes the stopper down with her thumb and the basin begins to fill. While it does, she rummages in her overnight bag and finds a lipstick. She holds it up between the thumb and first two fingers of her left hand.
146 INTERIOR: RESUME CONSTABLE'S OFFICE.
LINOGE leans back against the wall behind the cot, with the air of a man who has accomplished some difficult and tiring task. He looks at the octet across the room and smiles at them a little.
LINOGE
Go on, Mike, go on we'll be fine. Give that little guy of yours a big old smackeroo for me. Tell him his pal from the market says hi.
MIKE'S face knots. He'd like to smash LINOGE'S face.
HATCH
How do you know so much? What the hell do you want?
LINOGE places his forearms on his knees and says nothing.
MIKE
Hatch, why don't a pair of you spend the time until I get back in here with him the others can hang in the market. You can adjust the mirror out there so you can see in here.
HATCH
You don't want him to be able to get at all of us at the same time. Do you?
MIKE Well . . . it's a plan.
He turns to the women before HATCH can reply.
204 STEPHEN KING
MIKE Ladies? Let's take a ride back to the town hall.
URSULA hands him a key on a key ring.
URSULA
This goes to Lucien Fournier's snowmobile, out back. Thought you might need it. Mike?
MIKE hands the key to HATCH, then turns back to her.
URSULA Peter will be all right out there, won't he?
MIKE
Yes. And when this is over, we'll see to him proper . . . the way we always do. Come on.
URSULA gets to her feet and zips up her coat.
147 INTERIOR: TOWN HALL AISLE NIGHT.
JILL ROBICHAUX heads down the aisle in her robe, carrying her own overnight bag. Outside, the WIND HOWLS.
148 INTERIOR: THE LADIES' ROOM, ANGLE ON THE DOOR NIGHT.
It opens, and JILL comes in. For a moment her face remains calm, the face of a woman embarked on her regular getting-ready-for-bed ritual. Then it FILLS WITH HORROR. She drops her little bag and claps her hands to her mouth to stifle a scream. She stands where she is a moment longer, frozen by whatever it is she sees. Then she WHEELS AND RUNS.
149 INTERIOR: THE SLEEPING AREA OF THE TOWN HALL BASEMENT NIGHT.
The lights have been turned low. In kid country, all of MOLLY'S day-care pupils are fast asleep; even the loathsome DON BEALS has given up. Probably half the beds meant for the adults are occupied, mostly by OLDER RESIDENTS.
CHAPTER 19
MOLLY ANDERSON holds aside one of the makeshift draw curtains (perhaps they're only blankets hung up on clotheslines for this occa-
STORM OF THE CENTURY 205
sion) so that ANDY ROBICHAUX can step through. ANDY has got CAT in his arms. He carries her toward one of the cots. Following ANDY comes MOLLY and MRS. KINGSBURY.
When they reach a cot fairly deep in the room and away from most of the other sleepers, MOLLY strips back the blanket and top sheet. ANDY puts CAT down, and MOLLY pulls the bedclothes back up over her. They SPEAK LOW, so as not to disturb the other sleepers.
ANDY ROBICHAUX Whoo! She's really out!
MOLLY gives MRS. KINGSBURY a questioning look.
MRS. KINGSBURY
They're very light sleeping pills . . . any lighter, Doc Grissom said, and I could buy them right over the counter. I think it's just shock. Whatever she's done, or whatever's been done to her, she's away from it now. That's probably best.
MRS. KINGSBURY bends, and, perhaps surprising herself, puts a kiss on the sleeping girl's cheek.
MRS. KINGSBURY Sleep well, dear.
ANDY
Do you think someone ought to sit with her? Like a guard?
MOLLY and MRS. KINGSBURY exchange a bewildered glance that sums up just how out of control this has become. Put a guard on inoffensive little CAT WITHERS? It's nuts.
MOLLY She doesn't need guarding, Andy.
ANDY
But
MOLLY Come on.
206 STEPHEN KING
She turns to go. MRS. KINGSBURY follows. ANDY lingers by the cot for a moment, not so sure. Then he follows.
150 INTERIOR: THE BASEMENT "LIVING ROOM" AREA OF THE TOWN HALL.
MOLLY, ANDY, and MRS. KINGSBURY come out through the draw curtains. To their left, forty or fifty people, many now in their pj's or nightgowns, are watching the fuzzy TV. To their right are the stairs. Coming down them are SANDRA BEALS, MELINDA HATCHER, and JILL ROBICHAUX. SANDRA is terrified;