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！