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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
…
