herself to her feet。 Her left leg sent bolt after bolt of pain all the way up to
her hip。 Her face was ashy pale but set。 She leaped onto his back as his hand
closed over the shaft of the roque mallet。
〃Oh dear God！〃 she screamed to the Overlook's shadowy lobby； and buried the
kitchen knife in his lower back up to the handle。
He stiffened beneath her and then shrieked。 She thought she had never heard
such an awful sound in her whole life； it was as if the very boards and windows
and doors of the hotel had screamed。 It seemed to go on and on while he remained
board…stiff beneath her weight。 They were like a parlor charade of horse and
rider。 Except that the back of his red…and…black…checked flannel shirt was
growing darker； sodden； with spreading blood。
Then he collapsed forward on his face； bucking her off on her hurt side；
making her groan。
She lay breathing harshly for a time； unable to move。 She was an excruciating
throb of pain from one end to the other。 Every time she inhaled； something
stabbed viciously at her； and her neck was wet with blood from her grazed ear。
There was only the sound of her struggle to breathe； the wind； and the ticking
clock in the ballroom。
At last she forced herself to her feet and hobbled across to the stairway。
When she got there she clung to the newel post； head down； waves of faintness
washing over her。 When it had passed a little； she began to climb； using her
unhurt leg and pulling with her arms on the banister。 Once she looked up；
expecting to see Danny there； but the stairway was empty。
（Thank God he slept through it thank God thank God）
Six steps up she had to rest； her head down； her blond hair coiled on and over
the banister。 Air whistled painfully through her throat； as if it had grown
barbs。 Her right side was a swollen； hot mass。
（e on Wendy e on old girl get a locked door behind you and then look at
the damage thirteen more to go not so bad。 And when you get to the upstairs
corridor you can crawl。 I give my permission。）
She drew in as much breath as her broken ribs would allow and half…pulled；
half…fell up another riser。 And another。
She was on the ninth； almost halfway up； when Jack's voice came from behind
and below her。 He said thickly： 〃You bitch。 You killed me。〃
Terror as black as midnight swept through her。 She looked over her shoulder
and saw Jack getting slowly to his feet。
His back was bowed over； and she could see the handle of the kitchen knife
sticking out of it。 His eyes seemed to have contracted； almost to have lost
themselves in the pale； sagging folds of the skin around them。 He was grasping
the roque mallet loosely in his left hand。 The end of it was bloody。 A scrap of
her pink terrycloth robe stuck almost in the center。
〃I'll give you your medicine；〃 he whispered； and began to stagger toward the
stairs。
Whimpering with fear； she began to pull herself upward again。 Ten steps； a
dozen； a baker's dozen。 But still the first…floor hallway looked as far above
her as an unattainable mountain peak。 She was panting now； her side shrieking in
protest。 Her hair swung wildly back and forth in front of her face。 Sweat stung
her eyes。 The ticking of the domed clock in the ballroom seemed to fill her
cars； and counterpointing it； Jack's panting； agonized gasps as he began to
mount the stairs。
》
HALLORANN ARRIVES
Larry Durkin was a tall and skinny man with a morose face overtopped with a
luxuriant mane of red hair。 Hallorann had caught him just as he was leaving the
Conoco station； the morose face buried deeply inside an army…issue parka。 He was
reluctant to do any more business that stormy day no matter how far Hallorann
had e； and even more reluctant to rent one of his two snowmobiles out to this
wild…eyed black man who insisted on going up to the old Overlook。 Among people
who had spent most of their lives in the little town of Sidewinder； the hotel
had a smelly reputation。 Murder had been done up there。 A bunch of hoods had run
the place for a while； and cutthroat businessmen had run it for a while； too。
And things had been done up at the old Overlook that never made the papers；
because money has a way of talking。 But the people in Sidewinder had a pretty
good idea。 Most of the hotel's chambermaids came from here； and chambermaids see
a lot。
But when Hallorann mentioned Howard Cottrell's name and showed Durkin the tag
inside one of the blue mittens； the gas station owner thawed。
〃Sent you here； did he？〃 Durkin asked； unlocking one of the garage bays and
leading Hallorann inside。 〃Good to know the old rip's got some sense left。 I
thought he was plumb out of it。〃 He flicked a switch and a bank of very old and
very dirty fluorescents buzzed wearily into life。 〃Now what in the tarnal
creation would you want up at that place； fella？〃
Hallorann's nerve had begun to crack。 The last few miles into Sidewinder had
been very bad。 Once a gust of wind that must have been tooling along at better
than sixty miles an hour had floated the Buick all the way around in a 360°
turn。 And there were still miles to travel with God alone knew what at the other
end of them。 He was terrified for the boy。 Now it was almost ten minutes to
seven and he had this whole song and dance to go through again。
〃Somebody is in trouble up there；〃 he said very carefully。 〃The son of the
caretaker。〃
〃Who？ Torrance's boy？ Now what kind of trouble could he be in？〃
〃I don't know；〃 Hallorann muttered。 He felt sick with the time this was
taking。 He was speaking with a country man； and he knew that all country men
feel a similar need to approach their business obliquely； to smell around its
corners and sides before plunging into the middle of dealing。 But there was no
time； because now he was one scared nigger and if this went on much longer he
just might decide to cut and run。
〃Look；〃 he said。 〃Please。 I need to go up there and I have to have a
snowmobile to get there。 I'll pay your price； but for God's sake let me get on
with my business！〃
〃All right；〃 Durkin said； unperturbed。 〃If Howard sent you； that's good
enough。 You take this ArcticCat。 I'll put five gallons of gas in the can。 Tank's
full。 She'll get you up and back down； I guess。〃
〃Thank you；〃 Hallorann said； not quite steadily。
〃I'll take twenty dollars。 That includes the ethyl。〃
Hallorann fumbled a twenty out of his wallet and handed it over。 Durkin tucked
it into one of his shirt pockets with hardly a look。
〃Guess maybe we better trade jackets； too；〃 Durkin said； pulling off his
parka。 〃That overcoat of yours ain't gonna be worth nothin tonight。 You trade me
back when you return the snowsled。〃
〃Oh； hey； I couldn't —〃
〃Don't fuss with me；〃 Durkin interrupted； still mildly。 〃I ain't sending you
out to freeze。 I only got to walk down two blocks and I'm at my own supper
table。 Give it over。〃
Slightly dazed； Hallorann traded his overcoat for Durkin's fur…lined parka。
Overhead the fluorescents buzzed faintly； reminding him of the lights in the
Overlook's kitchen。
〃Torrance's boy；〃 Durkin said； and shook his head。 〃Good…lookin little tyke；
ain't he？ He'n his dad was in here a lot before the snow really flew。 Drivin the
hotel truck； mostly。 Looked to me like the two of em was just about as tight as
they could get。 That's one little boy that loves his daddy。 Hope he's all
right。〃
〃So do I。〃 Hallorann zipped the parka and tied the hood。
〃Lemme help you push that out；〃 Durkin said。 They rolled the snowmobile across
the oil…stained concrete and toward the garage bay。 〃You ever drove one of these
before？〃
〃No。 〃
〃Well； there's nothing to it。 The instructions are pasted there on the
dashboard； but all there really is； is stop and go。 Your throttle's here； just
like a motorcycle throttle。 Brake on the other side。 Lean with it on the turns。
This baby will do seventy on hardpack； but on this powder you'll get no more
than fifty and that's pushing it。〃
Now they were in the service station's snow…filled front lot； and Durkin had
raised his voice to make himself heard over the battering of the wind。 〃Stay on
the road！〃 he shouted at Hallorann's ear。 〃Keep your eye on the guardrail posts
and the signs and you'll be all right； I guess。 If you get off the road； you're
going to be dead。 Understand？〃
Hallorann nodded。
〃Wait a minute！〃 Durkin told him； and ran back into the garage bay。
While he was gone； Hallorann turned the key in the ignition and pumped the
throttle a little。 The snowmobile coughed into brash； choppy life。
Durkin came back with a red and black ski mask。
〃Put this on under your hood！〃 he shouted。
Hallorann dragged it on。 It was a tight fit； but it cut the last of the
numbing wind off from his cheeks and forehead and chin。
Durkin leaned close to make himself heard。
〃I guess you must know about things the same way Howie does sometimes；〃 he
said。 〃It don't matter； except that place has got a bad reputation around here。
I'll give you a rifle if you want it。〃
〃I don't think it would do any good；〃 Hallorann shouted back。
〃You're the boss。 But if you get that boy； you bring him to Sixteen Peach
Lane。 The wife'll have some soup on。〃
〃Okay。 Thanks for everything。〃
〃You watch out！〃 Durkin yelled。 〃Stay on the road！〃
Hallorann nodded and twisted the throttle slowly。 The snowmobile purred
forward； the headlamp cutting a clean cone of light through the thickly falling
snow。 He saw Durkin's upraised hand in the rearview mirror； and raised his own
in return。 Then he nudged the handlebars to the left and was traveling up Main
Street； the snowmobile coursing smoothly through the white light thrown by the
streetlamps。 The speedometer stood at thirty miles an hour。 It was ten past
seven。 At the Overlook； Wendy and Danny were sleeping and Jack Torrance was
discussing matters of life and death with the previous caretaker。
Five blocks up Main； the streetlamps ended。 For half a mile there were small
houses； all buttoned tightly up against the storm； and then only wind…howling
darkness。 In the black again with no light but the thin spear of the
snowmobile's headlamp； terror closed in on him again； a childlike fear； dismal
and disheartening。 He had never felt so alone。 For several minutes； as the few
lights of Sidewinder dwindled away and disappeared in the rearview； the urge to
turn around and go back was almost insurmountable。 He reflected that for all of
Durkin's concern for Jack Torrance's boy； he had not offered to take the other
snowmobile and e with him。
（That place has got a bad reputation around here。）
Clenching his teeth； he turned the throttle higher and watched the needle on
the speedometer climb past forty and settle at forty…five。 He seemed to be going
horribly fast and yet he was afraid it wasn't fast enough。 At this speed it
would take him almost an hour to get to the Overlook。 But at a higher speed he
might not get there at all。
He kept his eyes glued to the passing guardrails and the dime…size