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The
thought
came
to
him
unbidden
,
making
him
tighten
his
lips
the
way
the
pain
in
his
knee
had
done
when
he
swung
it
out
of
bed
.
He
had
dreamed
about
the
thing
in
the
woods
last
night
.
His
dreams
of
Disney
World
had
seemed
to
blend
naturally
and
with
a
deadly
ease
into
dreams
of
that
thing
.
He
dreamed
that
it
had
touched
him
,
spoiling
all
good
dreams
forever
,
rotting
all
good
intentions
.
It
was
the
Wendigo
,
and
it
had
turned
him
into
not
just
a
cannibal
but
the
father
of
cannibals
.
In
his
dream
he
had
been
in
the
Pet
Sematary
again
but
not
alone
.
Bill
and
Timmy
Baterman
had
been
there
.
Jud
had
been
there
,
looking
ghostly
and
dead
,
holding
his
dog
Spot
on
a
clothesrope
leash
.
Lester
Morgan
was
there
with
Hanratty
the
bull
on
a
length
of
car-towing
chain
.
Hanratty
was
lying
on
his
side
,
looking
around
with
a
stupid
,
drugged
fury
.
And
for
some
reason
Rachel
was
there
too
,
and
she
'd
had
some
sort
of
accident
at
the
dinner
table
--
spilled
a
bottle
of
catsup
or
maybe
dropped
a
dish
of
cranberry
jelly
,
maybe
,
because
her
dress
was
splattered
with
red
stains
.
And
then
,
rising
behind
the
deadfall
to
a
titanic
height
,
its
skin
a
cracked
reptilian
yellow
,
its
eyes
great
hooded
foglamps
,
its
ears
not
ears
at
all
but
massive
curling
horns
,
was
the
Wendigo
,
a
beast
that
looked
like
a
lizard
born
of
a
woman
.
It
pointed
its
horny
,
nailed
finger
at
all
of
them
as
they
craned
their
necks
up
and
up
to
watch
it
...
"
Stop
,
"
he
whispered
and
shuddered
at
the
sound
of
his
own
voice
.
He
would
go
out
into
the
kitchen
,
he
decided
,
and
make
himself
breakfast
just
as
if
it
were
any
ordinary
day
.
A
bachelor
breakfast
,
full
of
comforting
cholesterol
.
A
couple
of
fried-egg
sandwiches
with
mayo
and
a
slice
of
Bermuda
onion
on
each
one
.
He
smelled
sweaty
and
dirty
and
cruddy
,
but
he
would
save
the
shower
for
later
;
right
now
getting
undressed
seemed
like
too
much
work
,
and
he
was
afraid
he
might
have
to
get
the
scalpel
out
of
his
bag
and
actually
cut
the
leg
of
the
pants
open
in
order
to
allow
his
bloated
knee
to
escape
.
A
hell
of
a
way
to
treat
good
instruments
,
but
none
of
the
knives
in
the
house
would
cut
the
heavy
jeans
fabric
,
and
Rachel
's
sewing
scissors
certainly
would
not
do
the
trick
.
But
first
,
breakfast
.
So
he
crossed
the
living
room
and
then
detoured
into
the
front
entry
and
looked
out
at
the
small
blue
car
in
Jud
's
driveway
.
It
was
covered
with
dewfall
,
which
meant
it
had
been
there
for
some
time
.
Church
was
still
on
the
roof
but
not
sleeping
.
He
appeared
to
be
staring
right
at
Louis
with
his
ugly
yellow-green
eyes
.
Louis
stepped
back
hurriedly
,
as
if
someone
had
caught
him
peeking
.
He
went
into
the
kitchen
,
rattled
out
a
frying
pan
,
put
it
on
the
stove
,
got
eggs
from
the
fridge
.
The
kitchen
was
bright
and
crisp
and
clear
.
He
tried
to
whistle
--
a
whistle
would
bring
the
morning
into
its
proper
focus
--
but
he
could
not
.
Things
looked
right
,
but
they
were
n't
right
.
The
house
seemed
dreadfully
empty
,
and
last
night
's
work
weighed
on
him
.
Things
were
wrong
,
awry
;
he
felt
a
shadow
hovering
,
and
he
was
afraid
.
He
limped
into
the
bathroom
and
took
a
couple
of
aspirin
with
a
glass
of
orange
juice
.
He
was
working
his
way
back
to
the
stove
when
the
telephone
rang
.
He
did
not
answer
it
immediately
but
turned
and
looked
at
it
,
feeling
slow
and
stupid
,
a
sucker
in
some
game
which
he
was
only
now
realizing
he
did
not
understand
in
the
least
.
