of breath and incapable of moving for a few moments。 In another； he was
reattaching the gascan； which was still half…full。 His head was thumping
horribly from the gasfumes （and in reaction to his battle with the hedge lion；
he supposed）； and he saw by the steaming hole in the snow beside him that he had
vomited； but he was unable to remember when。
The snowmobile； the engine still warm； fired immediately。 He twisted the
throttle unevenly and started forward with a series of neck…snapping jerks that
made his head ache even more fiercely。 At first the snowmobile wove drunkenly
from side to side； but by half…standing to get his face above the windscreen and
into the sharp； needling blast of the wind； he drove some of the stupor out of
himself。 He opened the throttle wider。
（Where are the rest of the hedge animals？）
He didn't know； but at least he wouldn't be caught unaware again。
The Overlook loomed in front of him； the lighted first…floor windows throwing
long yellow rectangles onto the snow。 The gate at the foot of the drive was
locked and he dismounted after a wary look around； praying he hadn't lost his
keys when he pulled his lighter out of his pocket 。。。 no； they were there。 He
picked through them in the bright light thrown by the snowmobile headlamp。 He
found the right one and unsnapped the padlock； letting it drop into the snow。 At
first he didn't think he was going to be able to move the gate anyway； he pawed
frantically at the snow surrounding it； disregarding the throbbing agony in his
head and the fear that one of the other lions might be creeping up behind him。
He managed to pull it a foot and a half away from the gatepost； squeezed into
the gap； and pushed。 He got it to move another two feet； enough room for the
snowmobile； and threaded it through。
He became aware of movement ahead of him in the dark。 The hedge animals； all
of them； were clustered at the base of the Overlook's steps； guarding the way
in； the way out。 The lions prowled。 The dog stood with its front paws on the
first step。
Hallorann opened the throttle wide and the snowmobile leaped forward； puffing
snow up behind it。 In the caretaker's apartment； Jack Torrance's head jerked
around at the high； wasplike buzz of the approaching engine； and suddenly began
to move laboriously toward the hallway again。 The bitch wasn't important now。
The bitch could wait。 Now it was this dirty nigger's turn。 This dirty；
interfering nigger with his nose in where it didn't belong。 First him and then
his son。 He would show them。 He would show them that 。。。 that he 。。。 that he
was of managerial timber！
Outside； the snowmobile rocketed along faster and faster。 The hotel seemed to
surge toward it。 Snow flew in Hallorann's face。 The headlamp's oning glare
spotlighted the hedge shepherd's face； its blank and socketless eyes。
Then it shrank away； leaving an opening。 Hallorann yanked at the snowmobile's
steering gear with all his remaining strength； and it kicked around in a sharp
semicircle； throwing up clouds of snow； threatening to tip over。 The rear end
struck the foot of the porch steps and rebounded。 Hallorann was off in a flash
and running up the steps。 He stumbled； fell； picked himself up。 The dog was
growling — again in his head — close behind him。 Something ripped at the shoulder
of the parka and then he was on the porch； standing in the narrow corridor Jack
had shoveled through the snow； and safe。 They were too big to fit in here。
He reached the big double doors which gave on the lobby and dug for his keys
again。 While he was getting them he tried the knob and it turned freely。 He
pushed his way in。
〃Danny！〃 he cried hoarsely。 〃Danny； where are you？〃
Silence came back。
His eyes traveled across the lobby to the foot of the wide stairs and a harsh
gasp escaped him。 The rug was splashed and matted with blood。 There was a scrap
of pink terrycloth robe。 The trail of blood led up the stairs。 The banister was
also splashed with it。
〃Oh Jesus；〃 he muttered； and raised his voice again。
〃Danny！ DANNY！〃
The hotel's silence seemed to mock him with echoes which were almost there；
sly and oblique。
（Danny？ Who's Danny？ Anybody here know a Danny？ Danny； Danny； who's got the
Danny？ Anybody for a game of spin the Danny？ Pin the tail on the Danny？ Get out
of here； black boy。 No one here knows Danny from Adam。）
Jesus； had he e through everything just to be too late？ Had it been done？
He ran up the stairs two at a time and stood at the top of the first floor。
The blood led down toward the caretaker's apartment。 Horror crept softly into
his veins and into his brain as he began to walk toward the short hall。 The
hedge animals had been bad； but this was worse。 In his heart he was already sure
of what he was going to find when he got down there。
He was in no hurry to see it。
Jack had been hiding in the elevator when Hallorann came up the stairs。 Now he
crept up behind the figure in the snowcoated parka； a blood… and gore…streaked
phantom with a smile upon its face。 The roque mallet was lifted as high as the
ugly； ripping pain in his back
（？？ did the bitch stick me can't remember ？？）
would allow。
〃Black boy；〃 he whispered。 〃I'll teach you to go sticking your nose in other
people's business。〃
Hallorann heard the whisper and began to turn； to duck； and the roque mallet
whistled down。 The hood of the parka matted the blow； but not enough。 A rocket
exploded in his head； leaving a contrail of stars 。。。 and then nothing。
He staggered against the silk wallpaper and Jack hit him again； the roque
mallet slicing sideways this time； shattering Hallorann's cheekbone and most of
the teeth on the left side of his jaw。 He went down limply。
〃Now；〃 Jack whispered。 〃Now； by Christ〃 Where was Danny？ He had business with
his trespassing son。
Three minutes later the elevator door banged open on the shadowed third floor。
Jack Torrance was in it alone。 The car had stopped only halfway into the doorway
and he had to boost himself up onto the hall floor； wriggling painfully like a
crippled thing。 He dragged the splintered roque mallet after him。 Outside the
eaves； the wind howled and roared。 Jack's eyes rolled wildly in their sockets。
There was blood and confetti in his hair。
His son was up here； up here somewhere。 He could feel it。 Left to his own
devices； he might do anything： scribble on the expensive silk wallpaper with his
crayons； deface the furnishings； break the windows。 He was a liar and a cheat
and he would have to be chastised 。。。 harshly。
Jack Torrance struggled to his feet。
〃Danny？〃 he called。 〃Danny； e here a minute； will you？ You've done
something wrong and I want you to e and take your medicine like a man。
Danny？ Danny！〃
》
TONY
（Danny 。。。）
（Dannneee 。。。）
Darkness and hallways。 He was wandering through darkness and hallways that
were like those which lay within the body of the hotel but were somehow
different。 The silkpapered walls stretched up and up； and even when he crane