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- Стр. 392/409
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The
urge
to
flee
came
on
him
again
for
the
last
time
,
stronger
than
ever
--
he
actually
felt
the
comforting
bulge
of
his
car
keys
in
his
pocket
.
He
would
get
in
the
Civic
and
drive
to
Chicago
.
He
would
get
Ellie
and
go
on
from
there
.
Of
course
by
then
Goldman
would
know
something
was
wrong
,
that
something
was
dreadfully
amiss
,
but
he
would
get
her
anyway
...
snatch
her
,
if
he
had
to
.
Then
his
hand
fell
away
from
the
bulge
of
the
keys
.
What
killed
the
urge
was
not
a
sense
of
futility
,
not
guilt
,
not
despair
or
the
deep
weariness
inside
him
.
It
was
the
sight
of
those
muddy
footprints
on
the
kitchen
floor
.
In
his
mind
's
eye
he
could
see
them
tracing
a
path
across
the
entire
country
--
first
to
Illinois
,
then
to
Florida
--
across
the
entire
world
,
if
necessary
.
What
you
bought
,
you
owned
,
and
what
you
owned
eventually
came
home
to
you
.
There
would
come
a
day
when
he
would
open
a
door
and
there
would
be
Gage
,
a
demented
parody
of
his
former
self
,
grinning
a
sunken
grin
,
his
clear
blue
eyes
gone
yellow
and
smart-stupid
.
Or
Ellie
would
open
the
bathroom
door
for
her
morning
shower
,
and
there
would
be
Gage
in
the
tub
,
his
body
crisscrossed
with
the
faded
scars
and
bulges
of
his
fatal
accident
,
clean
but
stinking
of
the
grave
,
.
Oh
yes
,
that
day
would
come
--
he
did
n't
doubt
it
a
bit
.
"
How
could
I
have
been
so
stupid
?
"
he
said
to
the
empty
room
,
talking
to
himself
again
,
not
caring
.
"
How
?
"
Grief
,
not
stupidity
,
Louis
.
There
is
a
difference
...
small
,
but
vital
.
The
battery
that
burying
ground
survives
on
.
Growing
in
power
,
Jud
said
,
and
of
course
he
was
right
--
and
you
're
part
of
its
power
now
.
It
has
fed
on
your
grief
...
no
,
more
than
that
.
It
's
doubled
it
,
cubed
it
,
raised
it
to
the
nth
power
.
And
it
is
n't
just
grief
it
feeds
on
.
Sanity
.
It
's
eaten
your
sanity
.
The
flaw
is
only
the
inability
to
accept
,
not
uncommon
.
It
's
cost
you
your
wife
,
and
it
's
almost
surely
cost
you
your
best
friend
as
well
as
your
son
.
This
is
it
.
What
comes
when
you
're
too
slow
wishing
away
the
thing
that
knocks
on
your
door
in
the
middle
of
the
night
is
simple
enough
:
total
darkness
.
I
would
commit
suicide
now
,
he
thought
,
and
I
suppose
it
's
in
the
cards
,
is
n't
it
?
I
have
the
equipment
in
my
bag
.
It
has
managed
everything
,
managed
it
from
the
first
.
The
burying
ground
,
the
Wendigo
,
whatever
it
is
.
It
forced
our
cat
into
the
road
,
and
perhaps
it
forced
Gage
into
the
road
as
well
,
it
brought
Rachel
home
,
but
only
in
its
own
good
time
.
Surely
I
'm
meant
to
do
that
...
and
I
want
to
.
But
things
have
to
be
put
right
,
do
n't
they
?