Ernie Calvert had gotten through to the Air National Guard in Bangor, but had been put on hold before he had a chance to say why he was calling. Meanwhile, approaching sirens heralded the imminent arrival of the local law.
'Just don't expect the Fire Department,' said the farmer who'd come running across the field with his sons. His name was Alden Dinsmore, and he was still getting his breath back. 'They're over to Castle Rock, burnin down a house for practice. Could have gotten plenty of practice right h—' Then he saw his younger son approaching the place where Barbie's bloody handprint appeared to be drying on nothing more than sunny air. 'Rory, get away from there!'
Pvory, agog with curiosity, ignored him. He reached out and knocked on the air just to the right of Barbie's handprint. But before he did, Barbie saw goosebumps rash out on the kid's arms below the ragged sleeves of his cut-ofFWildcats sweatshirt. There was something there, something that kicked in when you got close. The only place Barbie had ever gotten a similar sensation was close to the big powrer generator in Avon, Florida, where he'd once taken a girl necking.
The sound of the kid's fist was like knuckles on the side of a Pyrex casserole dish. It silenced the little babbling crowd of spectators, who had been staring at the burning remains of the pulp-truck (and in some cases taking pictures of it with their cell phones).
'I'll be dipped in shit,' someone said.
Alden Dinsmore dragged his son away by the ragged collar of his sweatshirt, then whapped him backside of the head as he had the older brother not long before. 'Don't you ever!' Dinsmore cried, shaking the boy. 'Don't you ever, when you don't know what it is!'
'Pa, it's like a glass wall! It's—'
Dinsmore shook him some more. He was still panting, and Barbie feared for his heart. 'Don't you everV he repeated, and pushed the kid at his older brother. 'Hang onto this fool, Ollie.'
'Yessir,' Ollie said, and smirked at his brother.
Barbie looked toward The Mill. He could now see the approaching flashers of a police car, but far ahead of it—as if escorting the cops by virtue of some higher authority—was a large black vehicle that looked like a rolling coffin: Big Jim Rennie's Hummer. Barbie's fading bumps and bruises from the fight in Dipper's parking lot seemed to give a sympathetic throb at the sight.
P^ennie Senior hadn't been there, of course, but his son had been the prime instigator, and Big Jim had taken care of Junior. If that—KXfirA making life in The Mill tough for a certain itinerant short-order cook—tough enough so the short-order cook in question would decide to just haul stakes and leave town—even better.
Barbie didn't want to be here when Big Jim arrived. Especially xnot with the cops. Chief Perkins had treated him okay, but the other one—Randolph—had looked at him as if Dale Barbara were a piece of dogshit on a dress shoe.
Barbie turned to Sea Dogs and said: 'You interested in taking a little hike? You on your side, me on mine? See how far tiis thing goes?'
'And get away from here before yonder gasbag arrives?' Gendron had also seen the oncoming Hummer. 'My friend, you're on. East or west?'
4
They went west, toward Route 117, and they didn't find the end of the barrier, but they saw the wonders it had created wher. it came down. Tree branches had been sheared off, creating pathways to the sky where previously there had been none. Stumps had been cut in half. And there were feathered corpses everywhere.
'Lotta dead birds,' Gendron said. He resettled his cap on his head with hands that trembled slightly. His face was pale. 'Never seen so many'
'Are you all right?' Barbie asked.
'Physically? Yeah, I think so. Mentally, I feel like I've lost my frickin mind. How about you?'
'Same,' Barbie said.
Two miles west of 119, they came to God Creek Road and the body of Bob Roux, lying beside his still-idling tractor. Barb le moved instinctively toward the downed man and once again bumped the barrier… although this time he remembered at the last second and slowed in time to keep from bloodying his nose again.
Gendron knelt and touched the farmer's grotesquely cocked neck. 'Dead.'
'What's that littered all around him? Those white scraps?'
Gendron picked up the largest piece. 'I think it's one of those computer-music doohickies. Musta broke when he hit the…' He gestured in front of him. 'The you-know.'
From the direction of town a whooping began, hoarser and louder than the town whistle had been.
Gendron glanced toward it briefly. 'Fire siren,' he said. 'Much good it'll do.'
'FD's coming from Castle Rock,' Barbie said. 'I hear them.'
'Yeah? Your ears are better'n mine, then. Tell me your name again, friend.'
'Dale Barbara. Barbie to my friends.'
'Well, Barbie, what now?'
'Go on, I guess. We can't do anything for this guy.'
'Nope, can't even call anyone,' Gendron said gloomily. 'Not with my cell back there. Guess you don't have one?'
Barbie did, but he had left it behind in his now-vacated apartment, along with some socks, shirts, jeans, and underwear. He'd lit out for the territories with nothing but the clothes on his back, because there was nothing from Chester's Mill he wanted to carry with him. Except a few good memories, and for those he didn't need a suitcase or even a knapsack.
All this was too complicated to explain to a stranger, so he just shook his head.
There was an old blanket draped over the seat of the Deere. Gendron shut the tractor off, took the blanket, and covered the body.
'I hope he was listenin to somethin he liked when it happened,' Gendron said.
'Yeah,' Barbie said.
'Come on. Let's get to the end of this whatever-it-is. I want to shake your hand. Might even break down and give you a hug.'
5
Shortly after discovering Roux's body—they were now very close to the wreck on 117, although neither of them knew it—they came to a little stream. The two men stood there for a moment, each on his own side of the barrier, looking in wonder and silence.
At last Gendron said, 'Holy jumped-up God.'
'What does it look like from your side?' Barbie asked. All he could see on his was the water rising and spreading into the undergrowth. It was as if the stream had encountered an invisible dam.