Home > The Waste Lands (The Dark Tower #3)(149)

The Waste Lands (The Dark Tower #3)(149)
Author: Stephen King

Jake nodded, and found himself thinking of his Final Essay. “Blaine the Brain is a hell of a pain.”

“Yes.”

Jake looked closely at Roland. “Are we going to come out where I think we’re going to come out?”

“Yes,” Roland said. “If we’re still following the Path of the Beam, we’ll come out in the Cradle.”

Jake nodded. “Roland?”

“What?”

“Thanks for coming after me.”

Roland nodded and put an arm around Jake’s shoulders. Far ahead of them, huge motors rumbled to life. A moment later a heavy grinding sound began and new light—the harsh glow of orange arc-sodiums—flooded down on them. Jake could now see the place where the moving belt stopped. Beyond it was a steep, narrow escalator, leading up into that orange light.

EDDIE AND SUSANNAH HEARD heavy motors start up almost directly beneath them. A moment later, a wide strip of the marble floor began to pull slowly back, revealing a long lighted slot below. The floor was disappearing in their direction. Eddie seized the handles of Susannah’s chair and rolled it rapidly backward along the steel barrier between the monorail platform and the rest of the Cradle. There were several pillars along the course of the growing rectangle of light, and Eddie waited for them to tumble into the hole as the floor upon which they stood disap-peared from beneath their bases. It didn’t happen. The pillars went on serenely standing, seeming to float on nothing. “I see an escalator!” Susannah shouted over the endless, pulsing alarm. She was leaning forward, peering into the hole.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie shouted back. “We got the el station up here, so it must be notions, perfume, and ladies’ lingerie down there.” “What?”

“Never mind!”

“Eddie!” Susannah screamed. Delighted surprise burst over her face like a Fourth of July firework. She leaned even further forward, pointing, and Eddie had to grab her to keep her from tumbling out of the chair. “It’s Roland! It’s both of them!”

There was a shuddery thump as the slot in the floor opened to its maximum length and stopped. The motors which had driven it along its hidden tracks cut out in a long, dying whine. Eddie ran to the edge of the hole and saw Roland riding on one of the escalator steps. Jake— white-faced, bruised, bloody, but clearly Jake and clearly alive—was standing next to him and leaning on the gunslinger’s shoulder. And sitting on the step right behind them, looking up with his bright eyes was Oy.

“Roland! Jake!” Eddie shouted. He leaped up, waving his hands over his head, and came down dancing on the edge of the slot. If he had been wearing a hat, he would have thrown it in the air.

They looked up and waved. Jake was grinning, Eddie saw, and even old long tall and ugly looked as if he might break down and crack a smile before long. Wonders, Eddie thought, would never cease. His heart suddenly felt too big for his chest and he danced faster, waving his arms and whooping, afraid that if he didn’t keep moving, his joy and relief might actually cause him to burst. Until this moment he had not realized how positive his heart had become that they would never see Roland and Jake again.

“Hey, guys! All RIGHT! Far f**king out! Get your asses up here!” “Eddie, help me!

He turned. Susannah was trying to struggle out of her chair, but a fold of the deerskin trousers she was wearing had gotten caught in the brake mechanism. She was laughing and weeping at the same time, her dark eyes blazing with happiness. Eddie lifted her from the chair so violently that it crashed over on its side. He danced her around in a circle. She clung to his neck with one hand and waved strenuously with the other.

“Roland! Jake! Get on up here! Shuck your butts, you hear me?” When they reached the top, Eddie embraced Roland, pounding him on the back while Susannah covered Jake’s upturned, laughing face with kisses. Oy ran around in tight figure eights, barking shrilly.

“Sugar!” Susannah said. “You all right?” “Yes,” Jake said. He was still grinning, but tears stood in his eyes. “And glad to be here. You’ll never know how glad.” “I can guess, sugar. You c’n bet on that.” She turned to look at Roland. “What’d they do to him? His face look like somebody run over it with a bulldozer.” “That was mostly Gasher,” Roland said. “He won’t be bothering Jake again. Or anyone else.”

“What about you, big boy? You all right?” Roland nodded, looking about. “So this is the Cradle.” “Yes,” Eddie said. He was peering into the slot. “What’s down there?” “Machines and madness.”

“Loquacious as ever, I see.” Eddie looked at Roland, smiling. “Do you know how happy I am to see you, man? Do you have any idea?” “Yes—I think I do.” Roland smiled then, thinking of how people changed. There had been a time, and not so long ago, when Eddie had been on the edge of cutting his throat with the gunslinger’s own knife. The engines below them started up again. The escalator came to a stop. The slot in the floor began to slide closed once more. Jake went to Susannah’s overturned chair, and as he was righting it, he caught sight of the smooth pink shape beyond the iron bars. His breath stopped, and the dream he had had after leaving River Crossing returned full force: the vast pink bullet shape slicing across the empty lands of western Mis-souri toward him and Oy. Two big triangular windows glittering high up in the blank face of that oncoming monster, windows like eyes . . . and now his dream was becoming reality, just as he had known it eventually would.

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