Doctor Sleep: A Novel

park?”
    “Far end of the lot, by the sign that says kids eat for free when the Colorado teams win.”
    “Right.” Dan raised his head and noted the oversize sunglasses Billy was now wearing. “Pull your cap down hard. All the way to your ears. Look young.”
    “I might have a trick that’ll make me look even younger. If I can still do it, that is.”
    Dan barely heard this. “I need one other thing.”
    He stood up straight and opened his arms. Billy hugged him, wanting to do it hard—fiercely—and not daring.
    “Abra made a good call. I never would have gotten here without you. Now take care of your business.”
    “You take care of yours,” Billy said. “I’m counting on you to drive the Thanksgiving run out to Cloud Gap.”
    “I’d like that,” Dan said. “Best model train set a boy never had.”
    Billy watched him walk slowly, holding his hands against his stomach as he went, to the signpost on the far side of the clearing. There were two wooden arrows. One pointed west, toward Pawnee Lookout. The other pointed east, downhill. This one read TO BLUEBELL CAMPGROUND.
    Dan started along that path. For a little while Billy could see him through the glowing yellow leaves of the aspens, walking slowly and painfully, his head down to watch his footing. Then he was gone.
    “Take care of my boy,” Billy said. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to God or Abra, and guessed it didn’t matter; both were probably too busy to bother with the likes of him this afternoon.
    He went back to his truck, and from the bed pulled out a little girl with staring china blue eyes and stiff blond curls. Not much weight; she was probably hollow inside. “How you doin, Abra? Hope you didn’t get bumped around too much.”
    She was wearing a Colorado Rockies tee and blue shorts. Her feet were bare, and why not? This little girl—actually a mannequin purchased at a moribund children’s clothing shop in Martenville—had never walked a single step. But she had bendable knees, and Billy was able to place her in the truck’s passenger seat with no trouble. He buckled her seatbelt, started to close the door, then tried the neck. It also bent, although only a little. He stepped away to examine the effect. It wasn’t bad. She seemed to be looking at something in her lap. Or maybe praying for strength in the coming battle. Not bad at all.
    Unless they had binoculars, of course.
    He got back in the truck and waited, giving Dan time. Also hoping he wasn’t passed out somewhere along the path that led to the Bluebell Campground.
    At quarter to five, Billy started the truck and headed back the way he had come.
    5
    Dan maintained a steady walking pace in spite of the growing heat in his midsection. It felt as though there were a rat on fire in there, one that kept chewing at him even as it burned. If the path had been going up instead of down, he never would have made it.
    At ten to five, he came around a bend and stopped. Not far ahead, the aspens gave way to a green and manicured expanse of lawn sloping down to a pair of tennis courts. Beyond the courts he could see the RV parking area and a long log building: Overlook Lodge. Beyond that, the terrain climbed again. Where the Overlook had once stood, a tall platform reared gantrylike against the bright sky. Roof O’ the World. Looking at it, the same thought that had occurred to Rose the Hat
    ( gallows )
    crossed Dan’s mind. Standing at the railing, facing south toward the parking lot for day visitors, was a single silhouetted figure. A woman’s figure. The tophat was tilted on her head.
    ( Abra are you there )
    ( I’m here Dan )
    Calm, by the sound. Calm was just the way he wanted it.
    ( are they hearing you )
    That brought a vague ticklish sensation: her smile. The angry one.
    ( if they’re not they’re deaf )
    That was good enough.
    ( you have to come to me now but remember if I tell you to go YOU GO )
    She didn’t answer, and before he could tell her again, she was there.
    6
    The Stones and John Dalton watched helplessly as Abra slid sideways until she was lying with her head on the boards of the stoop and her legs splayed out on the steps below her. Hoppy spilled from one relaxing hand. She didn’t look as if she were sleeping, nor even in a faint. That was the ugly sprawl of deep unconsciousness or death. Lucy lunged forward. Dave and John held her back.
    She fought them. “Let me go! I have to help her!”
    “You can’t,” John said. “Only Dan can help her