something else nibbled more strongly； but she let it go。
Wendy crossed the room； stood indecisively by the door for a moment； then took
the knife from the pocket of her robe and curled her right hand around the
wooden haft。
She pulled the door open。
The short corridor leading to their quarters was bare。 The electric wall
flambeaux all shone brightly at their regular intervals； showing off the rug's
blue background and sinuous； weaving pattern。
（See？ No boogies here。）
（No； of course not。 They want you out。 They want you to do something silly and
womanish； and that is exactly what you are doing。）
She hesitated again； miserably caught； not wanting to leave Danny and the
safety of the apartment and at the same time needing badly to reassure herself
that Jack was still 。
safely packed away。
（Of course he is。）
（But the voices）
（There were no voices。 It was your imagination。 It was the wind。）
〃It wasn't the wind。〃
The sound of her own voice made her jump。 But the deadly certainty in it made
her go forward。 The knife swung by her side； catching angles of light and
throwing them on the silk wallpaper。 Her slippers whispered against the carpet's
nap。 Her nerves were singing like wires。
She reached the corner of the main corridor and peered around； her mind
stiffened for whatever she might see there。
There was nothing to see。
After a moment's hesitation she rounded the corner and began down the main
corridor。 Each step toward the shadowy stairwell increased her dread and made
her aware that she was leaving her sleeping son behind； alone and unprotected。
The sound of her slippers against the carpet seemed louder and louder in her
ears； twice she looked back over her shoulder to convince herself that someone
wasn't creeping up behind her。
She reached the stairwell and put her hand on the cold newel post at the top
of the railing。 There were nineteen wide steps down to the lobby。 She had
counted them enough times to know。 Nineteen carpeted stair risers； and nary a
Jack crouching on any one of them。 Of course not。 Jack was locked in the pantry
behind a hefty steel bolt and a thick wooden door。
But the lobby was dark and oh so full of shadows。
Her pulse thudded steadily and deeply in her throat。
Ahead and slightly to the left； the brass yaw of the elevator stood mockingly
open； inviting her to step in and take the ride of her life。
（No thank you）
The inside of the car had been draped with pink and white crepe streamers。
Confetti had burst from two tubular party favors。 Lying in the rear left corner
was an empty bottle of champagne。
She sensed movement above her and wheeled to look up the nineteen steps
leading to the dark second…floor landing and saw nothing； yet there was a
disturbing corner…of…the…eye sensation that things
（things）
had leaped back into the deeper darkness of the hallway up there just before
her eyes could register them。
She looked down the stairs again。
Her right hand was sweating against the wooden handle of the knife； she
switched it to her left； wiped her right palm against the pink terrycloth of her
robe； and switched the knife back。 Almost unaware that her mind had given her
body the mand to go forward； she began down the stairs； left foot then right；
left foot then right； her free hand trailing lightly on the banister。
（Where's the party？ Don't let me scare you away； you bunch of moldy sheets！
Not one scared woman with a knife！ Let's have a little music around here！ Let's
have a little life！）
Ten steps down； a dozen； a baker's dozen。
The light from the first…floor hall filtered a dull yellow down here； and she
remembered that she would have to turn on the lobby lights either beside the
entrance to the dining room or inside the manager's office。
Yet there was light ing from somewhere else； white and muted。
The fluorescents； of course。 In the kitchen。
She paused on the thirteenth step； trying to remember if she had turned them
off or left them on when she and Danny left。 She simply couldn't remember。
Below her； in the lobby； highbacked chairs hulked in pools of shadow。 The
glass in the lobby doors was pressed white with a uniform blanket of drifted
snow。 Brass studs in the sofa cushions gleamed faintly like cat's eyes。 There
were a hundred places to hide。
Her legs stilted with fear； she continued down。
Now seventeen； now eighteen； now nineteen。
（Lobby level； madam。 Step out carefully。）
The ballroom doors were thrown wide； only blackness spilling out。 From within
came a steady ticking； like a bomb。 She stiffened； then remembered the clock on
the mantel； the clock under glass。 Jack or Danny must have wound it 。。。 or
maybe it had wound itself up； like everything else in the Overlook。
She turned toward the reception desk meaning to go through the gate and the
manager's office and into the kitchen。 Gleaming dull silver； she could see the
intended lunch tray。
Then the clock began to strike； little tinkling notes。
Wendy stiffened； her tongue rising to the roof of her mouth。 Then she relaxed。
It was striking eight； that was all。 Eight o'clock
。。。 five； six； seven 。。。
She counted the strokes。 It suddenly seemed wrong to move again until the
clock had stilled 。。。
。。。 eight 。。。 nine 。。。
（？？ Nine ？？）
。。。 ten 。。。 eleven 。。。
Suddenly； belatedly； it came to her。 She turned back clumsily for the stairs；
knowing already she was too late。 But how could she have known？
Twelve。
All the lights in the ballroom went on。 There was a huge； shrieking flourish
of brass。 Wendy screamed aloud； the sound of her cry insignificant against the
blare issuing from those brazen lungs。
〃Unmask！〃 the cry echoed。 〃Unmask！ Unmask！〃
Then they faded； as if down a long corridor of time； leaving her alone again。
No； not alone。
She turned and he was ing for her。
It was Jack and yet not Jack。 His eyes were lit with a vacant； murderous glow；
his familiar mouth now wore a quivering； joyless grin。
He had the roque mallet in one hand。
〃Thought you'd lock me in？ Is that what you thought you'd do？〃
The mallet whistled through the air。 She stepped backward； tripped over a
hassock； fell to the lobby rug。
〃Jack — 〃
〃You bitch；〃 he whispered。 〃I know what you are。〃
The mallet came down again with whistling； deadly velocity and buried itself
in her soft stomach。 She screamed； suddenly submerged in an ocean of pain。 Dimly
she saw the mallet rebound。 It came to her with sudden numbing reality that he
meant to beat her to death with the mallet he held in his hands。
She tried to cry out to him again； to beg him to stop for Danny's sake； but
her breath had been knocked loose。 She could only force out a weak whimper；
hardly a sound at all。
〃Now。 Now； by Christ；〃 he said； grinning。 He kicked the hassock out of his
way。 〃I guess you'll take your medicine now。〃
The mallet whickered down。 Wendy rolled to her left； her robe tangling above
her knees。 Jack's hold on the mallet was jarred loose when it hit the floor