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swept　surely　into　the　first　half　of　an　S　curve　that　he　now　remembered　
confidently　foot　for　foot；　and　that　was　when　the　headlamp　picked　out　the　
　　（oh　dear　Jesus　god　what　is　it）　
in　the　road　ahead　of　him。　Limned　in　stark　blacks　and　whites；　Hallorann　first　
thought　it　was　some　hideously　huge　timberwolf　that　had　been　driven　down　from　the　
high　country　by　the　storm。　Then；　as　he　closed　on　it；　he　recognized　it　and　horror　
closed　his　throat。　
　　Not　a　wolf　but　a　lion。　A　hedge　lion。　
　　Its　features　were　a　mask　of　black　shadow　and　powdered　snow；　its　haunches　wound　
tight　to　spring。　And　it　did　spring；　snow　billowing　around　its　pistoning　rear　
legs　in　a　silent　burst　of　crystal　glitter。　
　　Hallorann　screamed　and　twisted　the　handlebars　hard　right；　ducking　low　at　the　


　
　
same　time。　Scratching；　ripping　pain　scrawled　itself　across　his　face；　his　neck；　
his　shoulders。　The　ski　mask　was　torn　open　down　the　back。　He　was　hurled　from　the　
snowmobile。　He　hit　the　snow；　plowed　through　it；　rolled　over。　
　　He　could　feel　it　ing　for　him。　In　his　nostrils　there　was　a　bitter　smell　of　
green　leaves　and　holly。　A　huge　hedge　paw　batted　him　in　the　small　of　the　back　and　
he　flew　ten　feet　through　the　air；　splayed　out　like　a　rag　doll。　He　saw　the　
snowmobile；　riderless；　strike　the　embankment　and　rear　up；　its　headlamp　searching　
the　sky。　It　fell　over　with　a　thump　and　stalled。　
　　Then　the　hedge　lion　was　on　him。　There　was　a　crackling；　rustling　sound。　
Something　raked　across　the　front　of　the　parka；　shredding　it。　It　might　have　been　
stiff　twigs；　but　Hallorann　knew　it　was　claws。　
　　〃You're　not　there！〃　Hallorann　screamed　at　the　circling；　snarling　hedge　lion。　
〃You're　not　there　at　all！〃　He　struggled　to　his　feet　and　made　it　halfway　to　the　
snowmobile　before　the　lion　lunged；　batting　him　across　the　head　with　a　needle…　
tipped　paw。　Hallorann　saw　silent；　exploding　lights。　
　　〃Not　there；〃　he　said　again；　but　it　was　a　fading　mutter。　His　knees　unhinged　and　
dropped　him　into　the　snow。　He　crawled　for　the　snowmobile；　the　right　side　of　his　
face　a　scarf　of　blood。　The　lion　struck　him　again；　rolling　him　onto　his　back　like　
a　turtle。　It　roared　playfully。　
　　Hallorann　struggled　to　reach　the　snowmobile。　What　he　needed　was　there。　And　
then　the　lion　was　on　him　again；　ripping　and　clawing。　
　
　
　
　
　　　》　
　
　
WENDY　AND　JACK　
　
　
　　Wendy　risked　another　glance　over　her　shoulder。　Jack　was　on　the　sixth　riser；　
clinging　to　the　banister　much　as　she　was　doing　herself。　He　was　still　grinning；　
and　dark　blood　oozed　slowly　through　the　grin　and　slipped　down　the　line　of　his　
jaw。　He　bared　his　teeth　at　her。　
　　〃I'm　going　to　bash　your　brains　in。　Bash　them　right　to　fuck　in。〃　He　struggled　
up　another　riser。　
　　Panic　spurred　her；　and　the　ache　in　her　side　diminished　a　little。　She　pulled　
herself　up　as　fast　as　she　could　regardless　of　the　pain；　yanking　convulsively　at　
the　banister。　She　reached　the　top　and　threw　a　glance　behind　her。　
　　He　seemed　to　be　gaining　strength　rather　than　losing　it。　He　was　only　four　
risers　from　the　top；　measuring　the　distance　with　the　rogue　mallet　in　his　left　
hand　as　he　pulled　himself　up　with　his　right。　
　　〃Right　behind　you；〃　he　panted　through　his　bloody　grin；　as　if　reading　her　mind。　
〃Right　behind　you　now；　bitch。　With　your　medicine。〃　
　　She　fled　stumblingly　down　the　main　corridor；　hands　pressed　to　her　side。　
　　The　door　to　one　of　the　rooms　jerked　open　and　a　man　with　a　green　ghoulmask　on　


　
　
popped　out。　〃Great　party；　isn't　it？〃　He　screamed　into　her　face；　and　pulled　the　
waxed　string　of　a　party…favor。　There　was　an　echoing　bang　and　suddenly　crepe　
streamers　were　drifting　all　around　her。　The　man　in　the　ghoulmask　cackled　and　
slammed　back　into　his　room。　She　fell　forward　onto　the　carpet；　full…length。　Her　
right　side　seemed　to　explode　with　pain；　and　she　fought　off　the　blackness　of　
unconsciousness　desperately。　Dimly　she　could　hear　the　elevator　running　again；　
and　beneath　her　splayed　fingers　she　could　see　that　the　carpet　pattern　appeared　
to　move；　swaying　and　twining　sinuously。　
　　The　mallet　slammed　down　behind　her　and　she　threw　herself　forward；　sobbing。　
Over　her　shoulder　she　saw　Jack　stumble　forward；　overbalance；　and　bring　the　
mallet　down　just　before　he　crashed　to　the　carpet；　expelling　a　bright　splash　of　
blood　onto　the　nap。　
　　The　mallet　head　struck　her　squarely　between　the　shoulder　blades　and　for　a　
moment　the　agony　was　so　great　that　she　could　only　writhe；　hands　opening　and　
clenching。　Something　inside　her　had　snapped　—　she　had　heard　it　clearly；　and　for　a　
few　moments　she　was　aware　only　in　a　muted；　muffled　way；　as　if　she　were　merely　
observing　these　things　through　a　cloudy　wrapping　of　gauze。　
　　Then　full　consciousness　came　back；　terror　and　pain　with　it。　
　　Jack　was　trying　to　get　up　so　he　could　finish　the　job。　
　　Wendy　tried　to　stand　and　found　it　was　impossible。　Electric　bolts　seemed　to　
course　up　and　down　her　back　at　the　effort。　She　began　to　crawl　along　in　a　
sidestroke　motion。　Jack　was　crawling　after　her；　using　the　roque　mallet　as　a　
crutch　or　a　cane。　
　　She　reached　the　er　and　pulled　herself　around　it；　using　her　hands　to　yank　at　
the　angle　of　the　wall。　Her　terror　deepened　—　she　would　not　have　believed　that　
possible；　but　it　was。　It　was　a　hundred　times　worse　not　to　be　able　to　see　him　or　
know　how　close　he　was　getting。　She　tore　out　fistfuls　of　the　carpet　napping　
pulling　herself　along；　and　she　was　halfway　down　this　short　hall　before　she　
noticed　the　bedroom　door　was　standing　wide　open。　
　　（Danny！　O　Jesus）　
　　She　forced　herself　to　her　knees　and　then　clawed　her　way　to　her　feet；　fingers　
slipping　over　the　silk　wallpaper。　Her　nails　pulled　little　strips　of　it　loose。　
She　ignored　the　pain　and　halfwalked；　half…shambled　through　the　doorway　as　Jack　
came　around　the　far　corner　and　began　to　lunge　his　way　down　toward　the　open　door；　
leaning　on　the　roque　mallet。　
　　She　caught　the　edge　of　the　dresser；　held　herself　up　against　it；　and　grabbed　
the　doorframe。　
　　Jack　shouted　at　her：　〃Don't　you　shut　that　door！　Goddam　you；　don't　you　dare　
shut　it！〃　
　　She　slammed　it　closed　and　shot　the　bolt。　Her　left　hand　pawed　wildly　at　the　
junk　on　the　dresser；　knocking　loose　coins　onto　the　floor　where　they　rolled　in　
every　direction。　Her　hand　seized　the　key　ring　just　as　the　mallet　whistled　down　
against　the　door；　making　it　tremble　in　its　frame。　She　got　the　key　into　the　lock　
on　the　second　stab　and　twisted　it　to　the　right。　At　the　sound　of　the　tumblers　
falling；　Jack　screamed。　The　mallet　came　down　against　the　door　in　a　volley　of　
booming　blows　that　made　her　flinch　and　step　back。　How　could　he　be　doing　that　
with　a　knife　in　his　back？　Where　was　he　finding　the　strength？　She　wanted　to　
shriek　Why　aren't　you　dead？　at　the　locked　door。　


　
　
　　Instead　she　turned　around。　She　and　Danny　would　have　to　go　into　the　attached　
bathroom　and　lock　that　door；　too；　in　case　Jack　actually　could　break　through　the　
bedroom　door。　The　thought　of　escaping　down　the　dumb…waiter　shaft　crossed　her　
mind　in　a　wild　burst；　and　then　she　rejected　it。　Danny　was　small　enough　to　fit　
into　it；　but　she　would　be　unable　to　control　the　rope　pull。　He　might　go　crashing　
all　the　way　to　the　bottom。　
　　The　bathroom　it　would　have　to　be。　And　if　Jack　broke　through　into　there　—　　
　　But　she　wouldn't　allow　herself　to　think　of　it。　
　　〃Danny；　honey；　you'll　have　to　wake　up　n　—　〃　
　　But　the　bed　was　empty。　
　　When　he　had　begun　to　sleep　more　soundly；　she　had　thrown　the　blankets　and　one　
of　the　quilts　over　him。　Now　they　were　thrown　back。　
　　〃I'll　get　you！〃　Jack　howled。　〃I'll　get　。both　of　you！〃　Every　other　word　was　
punctuated　with　a　blow　from　the　roque　hammer；　yet　Wendy　ignored　both。　All　of　her　
attention　was　focused　on　that　empty　bed。　
　　〃e　out　here！　Unlock　this　goddam　door！〃　
　　〃Danny？〃　she　whispered。　
　　Of　course　。。。　when　Jack　had　attacked　her。　It　had　e　through　to　him；　as　
violent　emotions　always　seemed　to。　Perhaps　he'd　even　seen　the　whole　thing　in　a　
nightmare。　He　was　hiding。　
　　She　fell　clumsily　to　her　knees；　enduring　another　bolt　of　pain　from　her　swollen　
and　bleeding　leg；　and　looked　under　the　bed。　Nothing　there　but　dustballs　and　
Jack's　bedroom　slippers。　
　　Jack　screamed　her　name；　and　this　time　when　he　swung　the　mallet；　a　long　
splinter　of　wood　jumped　from　the　door　and　clattered　off　the　hardwood　planking。　
The　next　blow　brought　a　sickening；　splintering　crack；　the　sound　of　dry　kindling　
under　a　hatchet。　The　bloody　mallet　head；　now　splintered　and　gouged　in　its　own　
right；　bashed　through　the　new　hole　in　the　door；　was　withdrawn；　and　came　down　
again；　sending　wooden　shrapnel　flying　across　the　room。　
　　Wendy　pulled　herself　to　her　feet　again　using　the　foot　of　the　bed；　and　hobbled　
across　the　room　to　the　closet。　Her　broken　ribs　stabbed　at　her；　making　her　groan。　
　　〃Danny？〃　
　　She　brushed　the　hung　garments　aside　frantically；　some　of　them　slipped　their　
hangers　and　ballooned　gracelessly　to　the　floor。　He　was　not　in　the　closet。　
　　She　hobbled　toward　the　bathroom　and　as　she　reached　the　door　she　glanced　back　
over　her　shoulder。　The　mallet　crashed　through　again；　widening　the　hole；　and　then　
a　hand　appeared；　groping　for　the　bolt。　She　saw　with　horror　that　she　had　left　
Jack's　key　ring　dangling　from　the　lock。　
　　The　hand　yanked　the　bolt　back；　and　as　it　did　so　it　struck　the　bunched　keys。　
They　jingled　merrily。　The　hand　clutched　them　victoriously。　
　　With　a　sob；　she　pushed　her　way　into　the　bathroom　and　slammed　the　door　just　as　
the　bedroom　door　burst　open　and　Jack　charged　through；　bellowing。　
　　Wendy　ran　the　bolt　and　twisted　the　spring　lock；　looking　around　desperately。　
The　bathroom　was　empty。　Danny　wasn't　here；　either。　And　as　she　caught　sight　of　
her　own　bloodsmeared；　horrified　face　in　the　medicine　cabinet　mirror；　she　was　
glad。　She　had　never　believed　that　children　should　be　witness　to　the　little　
quarrels　of　their　parents。　And　perhaps　the　thing　that　was　now　raving　through　the　
bedroom；　overturning　things　and　smashing　them；　would　finally　collapse　before　it　


　
　
could　go　after　her　son。　Perhaps；　she　thought；　it　might　be　possible　for　her　to　
inflict　even　more　damage　on　it　。。。　kill　it；　perhaps。　
　　Her　eyes　skated　quickly　over　the　bathroom's　machine…produced　porcelain　
surfaces；　looking　for　anything　that　might　serve　as　a　weapon。　There　was　a　bar　of　
soap；　but　even　wrapped　in　a　towel　she　didn't　think　it　would　be　lethal　enough。　
Everything　else　was　bolted　down。　God；　was　there　nothing　she　could　do？　
　　Beyond　the　door；　the　animal　sounds　of　destruction　went　on　and　on；　acpanied　
by　thick　shouts　that　they　would　〃take　their　medicine〃　and　〃pay　for　what　they'd　
done　to　him。〃　He　would　〃show　them　who's　boss；〃　They　were　〃worthless　puppies；〃　
the　both　of　them。　
　　There　was　a　thump　as　her　record　player　was　overturned；　a　hollow　crash　as　the　
secondhand　TV's　picture　tube　was　smashed；　the　tinkle　of　windowglass　followed　by　
a　cold　draft　under　the　bathroom　door。　A　dull　thud　as　the　mattresses　were　ripped　
from　the　twin　beds　where　they　had　slept　together；　hip　to　hip。　Boomings　as　Jack　
struck　the　walls　indiscriminately　with　the　mallet。　
　　There　was　nothing　of　the　real　Jack　in　that　howling；　maundering；　petulant　
voice；　though。　It　alternately　whined　in　tones　of　selfpity　and　rose　in　lurid　
screams；　it　reminded　her　chillingly　of　the　screams　that　sometimes　rose　in　the　
geriatrics　ward　of　the　hospital　where　she　had　worked　summers　as　a　high　school　
kid。　Senile　dementia。　Jack　wasn't　out　there　anymore。　She　was　hearing　the　
lunatic；　raving　voice　of　the　Overlook　itself。　
　　The　mallet　smashed　into　the　bathroom　door；　knocking　out　a　huge　chunk　of　the　
thin　paneling。　Half　of　a　crazed　and　working　face　stared　in　at　her。　The　mouth　and　
cheeks　and　throat　were　lathered　in　blood；　the　single　eye　she　could　see　was　tiny　
and　piggish　and　glittering。　
　　〃Nowhere　left　to　run；　you　cunt；〃　it　panted　at　her　through　its　grin。　The　mallet　
descended　again；　knocking　wood　splinters　into　the　tub　and　against　the　reflecting　
surface　of　the　medicine　cabinet　
　　（！！　The　medicine　cabinet　！！）　
　　A　desperate　whining　noise　began　to　escape　her　as　she　whirled；　pain　temporarily　
forgotten；　and　threw　the　mirror　door　of　the　cabinet　back。　She　began　to　paw　
through　its　contents。　Behind　her　that　hoarse　voice　bellowed：　〃Here　I　e　now！　
Here　I　e　now；　you　pig！〃　It　was　demolishing　the　door　in