Doctor Sleep

them with her life.
    Dan droppedthe Riv into its lowest gear as the train came out of the deep woods and ran along a fenced drop. Below them, the Saco shone bright gold in the declining sun. The woods, slopingsteeply down to the water on both sides, were a bonfire of orange, red, yellow, and purple. Above them, the puffy clouds drifting by seemed almost close enough to touch.
    He pulled up to the sign reading CLOUD GAP STATIONin a chuff of airbrakes, then turned the diesel off. For a moment he had no idea what to say, but Abra said it for him, using his mouth. “Thanks for letting me drive, Daddy. Now let’s have our plunder.” In the Deane rec room, Abra had just made this word. “Our picnic, I mean.”
    “I can’t believe you’re hungry after all you ate on the train,” Dave teased.
    “I am, though. Aren’t you glad I’m notanorexic?”
    “Yes,” Dave said. “Actually, I am.”
    Dan saw John Dalton from the corner of his eye, crossing the picnic area clearing, head down, feet noiseless on the thick pine duff. He was carrying a pistol in one hand and Billy Freeman’s rifle in the other. Trees bordered a parking lot for motor traffic; after a single look back, John disappeared into them. During summer, the little lot and allthe picnic tables would have been full. On this weekday afternoon in late September, Cloud Gap was dead empty except for them.
    Dave looked at Dan. Dan nodded. Abra’s father—an agnostic by inclination but a Catholic by association—made the sign of the cross in the air and then followed John into the woods.
    “It’s so beautiful here, Daddy,” Dan said. His invisible passenger was now talking to Hoppy,because Hoppy was the only one left. Dan set the lumpy, balding, one-eyed rabbit on one of the picnic tables, then went back to the first passenger car for the wicker picnic basket. “That’s okay,” he said to the empty clearing, “I can get it, Dad.”
    9
    In the Deanes’ rec room, Abra pushed back her chair and stood up. “I have to go to the bathroom again. I feel sick to my stomach. And after that,I think I better go home.”
    Emma rolled her eyes, but Mrs. Deane was all sympathy. “Oh, honey, is it your you-know?”
    “Yes, and it’s pretty bad.”
    “Do you have the things you need?”
    “In my backpack. I’ll be fine. Excuse me.”
    “That’s right,” Emma said, “quit while you’re winning.”
    “ Em-ma! ” her mother cried.
    “That’s okay, Mrs. Deane. She beat me at HORSE.” Abra went up the stairs, one hand pressedto her stomach in a way she hoped didn’t look too fakey. She glanced outside again, saw Mr. Freeman’s truck, but didn’t bother with the thumbs-up this time. Once in the bathroom, she locked the door and sat down on the closed toilet lid. It was such a relief to be done juggling so many different selves. Barry was dead; Emma and her mom were downstairs; now it was just the Abra in this bathroomand the Abra at Cloud Gap. She closed her eyes.
    ( Dan )
    ( I’m here )
    ( you don’t have to pretend to be me anymore )
    She felt his relief, and smiled. Uncle Dan had tried hard, but he wasn’t cut out to be a chick.
    A light, tentative knock at the door. “Girlfriend?” Emma. “You all right? I’m sorry if I was mean.”
    “I’m okay, but I’m going to go home and take a Motrin and lie down.”
    “I thought youwere going to stay the night.”
    “I’ll be fine.”
    “Isn’t your dad gone?”
    “I’ll lock the doors until he gets back.”
    “Well . . . want me to walk with you?”
    “That’s okay.”
    She wanted to be alone so she could cheer when Dan and her father and Dr. John took those things out. They would, too. Now that Barry was dead, the others were blind. Nothing could go wrong.
    10
    There was no breeze to rattlethe brittle leaves, and with the Riv shut down, the picnic area at Cloud Gap was very quiet. There was only the muted conversation of the river below, the squall of a crow, and the sound of an approaching engine. Them. The ones the hat woman had sent. Rose. Dan flipped up one side of the wicker basket, reached in, and gripped the Glock .22 Billy had provided him with—from what source Dan didn’tknow or care. What he cared about was that it could fire fifteen rounds without reloading, and if fifteen rounds weren’t enough, he was in a world of hurt. A ghost memory of his father came, Jack Torrance smiling his charming, crooked grin and saying, If that don’t work, I don’t know what to tellya .