121小说

手机浏览器扫描二维码访问

第82部分（第1页）

He　attached　the　can　to　the　back　of　the　snowmobile；　fumbling　the　job　several

times　before　getting　it　right　because　his　fingers　were　going　numb。　For　the　first

time　he　became　aware　that　hed　lost　Howard　Cottrells　mittens。

（i　get　out　of　this　i　gonna　have　my　sister　knit　you　a　dozen　pair；　howie）

〃Get　on！〃　Hallorann　shouted　at　the　boy。

Danny　shrank　back。　〃Well　freeze！〃

〃We　have　to　go　around　to　the　equipment　shed！　Theres　stuff　in　there　。。。

blankets　。。。　stuff　like　that。　Get　on　behind　your　mother！〃

Danny　got　on；　and　Hallorann　twisted　his　head　so　he　could　shout　into　Wendys

face。

〃Missus　Torrance！　Hold　onto　me！　You　understand？　Hold　on！〃

She　put　her　arms　around　him　and　rested　her　cheek　against　his　back。　Hallorann

started　the　snowmobile　and　turned　the　throttle　delicately　so　they　would　start　up

without　a　jerk。　The　woman　had　the　weakest　sort　of　grip　on　him；　and　if　she

shifted　backward；　her　weight　would　tumble　both　her　and　the　boy　off。

They　began　to　move。　He　brought　the　snowmobile　around　in　a　circle　and　then　they

were　traveling　west　parallel　to　the　hotel。　Hallorann　cut　in　more　to　circle

around　behind　it　to　the　equipment　shed。

They　had　a　momentarily　clear　view　into　the　Overlooks　lobby。　The　gasflame

ing　up　through　the　shattered　floor　was　like　a　giant　birthday　candle；　fierce

yellow　at　its　heart　and　blue　around　its　flickering　edges。　In　that　moment　it

seemed　only　to　be　lighting；　not　destroying。　They　could　see　the　registration　desk

with　its　silver　bell；　the　credit　card　decals；　the　old…fashioned；　scrolled　cash

register；　the　small　figured　throw　rugs；　the　highbacked　chairs；　horsehair

hassocks。　Danny　could　see　the　small　sofa　by　the　fireplace　where　the　three　nuns

had　sat　on　the　day　they　had　e　up　—　closing　day。　But　this　was　the　real　closing

day。

Then　the　drift　on　the　porch　blotted　the　view　out。　A　moment　later　they　were

skirting　the　west　side　of　the　hotel。　It　was　still　light　enough　to　see　without

the　snowmobiles　headlight。　Both　upper　stories　were　flaming　now；　and　pennants　of

flame　shot　out　the　windows。　The　gleaming　white　paint　had　begun　to　blacken　and

peel。　The　shutters　which　had　covered　the　Presidential　Suites　picture　window　—

shutters　Jack　had　carefully　fastened　as　per　instructions　in　mid…October　—　now　hung

in　flaming　brands；　exposing　the　wide　and　shattered　darkness　behind　them；　like　a

toothless　mouth　yawing　in　a　final；　silent　deathrattle。

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