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Buddy
Eagleton
was
leaning
weakly
against
the
pay-phone
stall
like
someone
who
has
just
gotten
bad
news
from
home
.
His
broad
shoulders
shook
with
the
force
of
his
sobs
.
"
Do
n't
count
us
out
yet
,
"
I
said
to
Ollie
.
I
stepped
up
to
the
door
.
I
did
n't
want
to
go
inside
,
but
I
had
promised
my
son
a
comic
book
.
The
Bridgton
Pharmacy
was
a
crazy
shambles
.
Paperbacks
and
magazines
were
everywhere
.
There
was
a
Spiderman
comic
and
an
Incredible
Hulk
almost
at
my
feet
,
and
without
thinking
,
I
picked
them
up
and
jammed
them
into
my
back
pocket
for
Billy
.
Bottles
and
boxes
lay
in
the
aisles
.
A
hand
hung
over
one
of
the
racks
.
Unreality
washed
over
me
.
The
wreckage
...
the
carnage-that
was
bad
enough
.
But
the
place
also
looked
like
it
had
been
the
scene
of
some
crazy
party
.
It
was
hung
and
festooned
with
what
I
at
first
took
to
be
streamers
.
But
they
were
n't
broad
and
flat
;
they
were
more
like
very
thick
strings
or
very
thin
cables
.
It
struck
me
that
they
were
almost
the
same
bright
white
as
the
mist
itself
,
and
a
cold
chill
sketched
its
way
up
my
back
like
frost
.
Not
crepe
.
What
?
Magazines
and
books
hung
dangling
in
the
air
from
some
of
them
.
Mike
Hatlen
was
prodding
a
strange
black
thing
with
one
foot
.
It
was
long
and
bristly
.
"
What
the
f
*
ck
is
this
?
"
he
asked
no
one
in
particular
.
And
suddenly
I
knew
.
I
knew
what
had
killed
all
those
unlucky
enough
to
be
in
the
pharmacy
when
the
mist
came
.
The
people
who
had
been
unlucky
enough
to
get
smelled
out
.
Out
-
"
Out
,
"
I
said
.
My
throat
was
completely
dry
,
and
the
word
came
out
like
a
lint-covered
bullet
.
"
Get
out
of
here
.
"
Ollie
looked
at
me
.
"
David
-
"
