The Tommyknockers by Stephen King

Author:Stephen King
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 1988-10-31T04:00:00+00:00

7

Ev clenched a fist tightly in spite of the dull throb of arthritis and brought it down on one leg, hard.

What are you going to do, old man? David’s gone and it would be easier if you could convince yourself he was really dead, wouldn’t it?

Yes. That would make things simpler. Sadder, but simpler. But he couldn’t believe that. Part of him was still convinced that David was alive. Perhaps it was only wishful thinking, but somehow Ev didn’t think so—he had done plenty of that in his time, and this didn’t feel like it. This was a strong, pulsing intuition in his mind: David is alive. He is lost, and he is in danger of dying, oh, most certainly ... but he can still be saved. If. If you can make up your mind to do something. And if what you make up your mind to do is the right thing. Long odds for an old fart like you, who pisses a dark spot on his pants every once in a while these days when he can’t get to the john in time. Long, long odds.

Late Monday evening he had awakened from a dozing sleep, trembling in Hilly’s hospital room—the nurses often turned a leniently blind eye to him and allowed him to stay far past regular visiting hours. He’d had a dreadful nightmare. He had dreamed he was in some dark and stony place—needle—tipped mountains sawed at a black sky strewn with cold stars, and a wind as sharp as an icepick whined in narrow, rocky defiles. Below him, by starlight, he could see a huge flat plain. It looked dry and cold and lifeless. Great cracks zigzagged across it, giving it the look of crazy-paving. And from somewhere, he could hear David’s thin voice: “Help me, Grandpa, it hurts to breathe! Help me, Grandpa, it hurts to breathe! Help me! I’m scared! I didn’t want to do the trick but Hilly made me and now I can’t find my way home!”

He sat looking at Hilly, his body bathed in sweat. It ran down his face like tears.

He got up, went over to Hilly, and bent close to him. “Hilly,” he said, not for the first time. “Where’s your brother? Where is David?”

Only this time Hilly’s eyes opened. His watery, unseeing stare chilled Everett—it was the stare of a blind sibyl.

“Altair-4,” Hilly said calmly, and with perfect clarity. “David is on Altair-4 and there’s Tommyknockers, Tommyknockers, knocking at the door.”

His eyes slipped shut and he slept deeply again.

Ev stood over him, perfectly motionless, his skin the color of putty.

After a while, he began to shudder.

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