They went willingly enough, huddling together as they passed through the swinging doors. Ollie killed the generator, and just as the lights started to fail, I saw a quilted rug-the sort of thing movers use to pad breakable things-flopped over a stack of returnable soda bottles. I reached up and grabbed it for Billy.
There was the shuffling, blundering sound of Ollie coming out of the generator compartment. Like a great many overweight men, his breathing had a slightly heavy wheezing sound.
«David?» His voice wavered a little. «You still here?»
«Right here, Ollie. You want to watch out for all those bleach cartons.»
«Yeah.»
I guided him with my voice and in thirty seconds or so he reached out of the dark and gripped my shoulder. He gave a long, trembling sigh.
«Christ, let’s get out of here.» I could smell the Rolaids he always chewed on his breath. «This dark is … is bad.»
«It is,» I said. «But hang tight a minute, Ollie. I wanted to talk to you and I didn’t want those other two fuckheads listening.»
«Dave … they didn’t twist Norm’s arm. You ought to remember that.»
«Norm was a kid, and they weren’t. But never mind, that’s over. We’ve got to tell them, Ollie. The people in the market.»
«If they panic-» Ollie’s voice was doubtful.
«Maybe they will and maybe they won’t. But it will make them think twice about going out, which is what most of them want to do. Why shouldn’t they? Most of them will have people they left at home. I do myself. We have to make them understand what they’re risking if they go out there.»
His hand was gripping my arm hard. «All right,» he said. «Yes, I just keep asking myself … all those tentacles … like a squid or something … David, what were they hooked to? What were those tentacles hooked to?»
«I don’t know. But I don’t want those two telling people on their own, That would start a panic. Let’s go.»
I looked around, and after a moment or two located the thin line of vertical light between the swing doors. We started to shuffle toward it, wary of scattered cartons, one of Ollie’s pudgy hands clamped over my forearm. It occurred to me that all of us had lost our flashlights.
As we reached the doors, Ollie said flatly: «What we saw it’s impossible, David. You know that, don’t you? Even if a van from the Boston Seaquarium drove out back and dumped out one of those gigantic squids like in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, it would die. It would just die. «
«Yes,» I said. «That’s right.»
«So what happened? Huh? What happened? What is that damned mist?»
«Ollie, I don’t know.»
We went out.
V. An Argument with Norton. A Discussion Near the Beer Cooler. Verification.
Jim and his good buddy Myron were just outside the doors, each with a Budweiser in his fist. I looked at Billy, saw he was still asleep, and covered him with the ruglike mover’s pad. He moved a little, muttered something, and then Jay still again. I looked at my watch. It was 12:15 P.m. That seemed utterly impossible; it felt as if at least five hours had passed since I had first gone in there to look for something to cover him with. But the whole thing, from first to last, had taken only about thirty-five minutes.
I went back to where Ollie stood with Jim and Myron. Ollie had taken a beer and he offered me one. I took it and gulped down half the can at once, as I had that morning cutting wood. It bucked me up a little.
Jim was Jim Grondin. Myron’s last name was LaFleur — that had its comic side, all right. Myron the flower had drying blood on his lips, chin, and cheek. The eye with the mouse under it was already swelling up. The girl in the cranberry-colored sweatshirt walked by aimlessly and gave Myron a cautious look. I could have told her that Myron was only dangerous to teenage boys intent on proving their manhood, but saved my breath. After all, Ollie was right-they had only been doing what they thought was best, although in a blind, fearful way rather than in any real common interest. And now I needed them to do what I thought was best. I didn’t think that would be a problem. They had both had the stuffing knocked out of them. Neither-especially Myron the flower-was going to be good for anything for some time to come. Something that had been in their eyes when they were fixing to send Norm out to unplug the exhaust vent had gone now. Their peckers were no longer up.