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Buddy
Eagleton
was
ahead
of
Mrs.
Reppler
and
he
turned
to
run
,
his
eyes
wide
and
stary
.
She
batted
him
lightly
in
the
chest
with
her
tennis
racket
.
"
Where
do
you
thing
you
're
going
?
"
she
asked
in
her
tough
,
slightly
raspy
voice
,
and
that
was
all
the
panic
there
was
.
The
rest
of
us
drew
up
to
Miller
.
I
took
one
glance
back
over
my
shoulder
and
saw
that
the
Federal
had
been
swallowed
up
by
the
mist
.
The
red
cinderblock
wall
faded
to
a
thin
wash
pink
and
then
disappeared
utterly
,
probably
five
feet
on
the
Bridgton
Pharmacy
side
of
the
OUT
door
.
I
felt
more
isolated
,
more
simply
alone
,
than
ever
in
my
life
.
It
was
as
if
I
had
lost
the
womb
.
The
pharmacy
had
been
the
scene
of
a
slaughter
.
Miller
and
I
,
of
course
,
were
very
close
to
it-almost
on
top
of
it
.
All
the
things
in
the
mist
operated
primarily
by
sense
of
smell
.
It
stood
to
reason
.
Sight
would
have
been
almost
completely
useless
to
them
.
Hearing
a
little
better
,
but
as
I
've
said
,
the
mist
had
a
way
of
screwing
Up
the
acoustics
,
making
things
that
were
close
sound
distant
and
-
sometimes
-
things
that
were
far
away
sound
close
.
The
things
in
the
mist
followed
their
truest
sense
.
They
followed
their
noses
.
Those
of
us
in
the
market
had
been
saved
by
the
power
outage
as
much
as
by
anything
else
.
The
electric-eye
doors
would
n't
operate
.
In
a
sense
,
the
market
had
been
scaled
up
when
the
mist
came
.
But
the
pharmacy
doors
...
they
had
been
chocked
open
.
The
power
failure
had
killed
their
air
conditioning
and
they
had
opened
the
doors
to
let
in
the
breeze
.
Only
something
else
had
come
in
as
well
.
A
man
in
a
maroon
T-shirt
lay
facedown
in
the
doorway
.
Or
at
first
I
thought
his
T-shirt
was
maroon
;
then
I
saw
a
few
white
patches
at
the
bottom
and
understood
that
once
it
had
been
all
white
.
The
maroon
was
dried
blood
.
And
there
was
something
else
wrong
with
him
.
I
puzzled
it
over
in
my
mind
.
Even
when
Buddy
Eagleton
turned
around
and
was
noisily
sick
,
it
did
n't
come
immediately
.
I
guess
when
something
that
...
that
final
happens
to
someone
,
your
mind
rejects
it
at
first-unless
maybe
you
're
in
a
war
.
His
head
was
gone
,
that
's
what
it
was
.
His
legs
were
splayed
out
inside
the
pharmacy
doors
,
and
his
head
should
have
been
hanging
over
the
low
step
.
But
his
head
just
was
n't
.
Jim
Grondin
had
had
enough
.
He
turned
away
,
his
hands
over
his
mouth
,
his
bloodshot
eyes
gazing
madly
into
mine
.
Then
he
stumbled
-
staggered
back
toward
the
market
.
The
others
took
no
notice
.
Miller
had
stepped
inside
.
Mike
Hatlen
followed
.
Mrs.
Reppler
stationed
herself
at
one
side
of
the
double
doors
with
her
tennis
racket
.
Ollie
stood
on
the
other
side
with
Amanda
's
gun
drawn
and
pointing
at
the
pavement
.
He
said
quietly
,
"
I
seem
to
be
running
out
of
hope
,
David
.
"
