Just dead.
Piecing together what he knew and what he could infer, Doneen had driven out or killed all of the residents of all of the Houses, leaving the Houses empty, in an attempt to bring down the barrier and open the border, allowing the dead and various beings from the Other Side to invade the material, physical world. Billings, the attendant of the Houses, had doggedly kept on, plugging away as the Houses faded, the barrier weakened, entirely unaware of the girl's existence. Despite Doneen's best efforts to scare them and keep them away, Billings and the Houses had called them back, and once again the integrity of the border was restored, the two worlds separated. But the girl had killed Billings and was now systematically trying to destroy the rest of them. Why? What was the reason? What did she hope to gain? What were her ultimate goals? He didn't know, couldn't say.
He thought of what Mark had said: Magic isn't logical. The observation was wiser than he'd given it credit for being, and he had the feeling that there was no rational reason for what she was doing, that her object was not something he could ever hope to understand.
Whatever her purpose, though, he knew it was evil, knew it was wrong.
He wondered what had happened to Mark, to Stormy and Norton, to Laurie. Had they all been tricked into death as he had been? Had they all been murdered? His mother said that Doneen could not be killed by someone who was dead, that it would take a living human being to stop her, and he assumed that Doneen's immediate plan was to kill them all, to make sure they could not harm her. Why she hadn't murdered them outright, why she'd let them get this far, why she hadn't killed them before they even returned to their Houses, was a mystery.
Perhaps Billings had been protecting them. Perhaps the Houses had. Maybe her power to inflict harm did not extend beyond the Houses' walls.
He looked down at Margot, sleeping soundly, completely unaware of the fact that he was dead and would never return. He was filled with a deep profound sadness, and he felt like crying, but he was not sure if it was for her or himself. It was for both of them, he supposed, for the forced death of their relationship.
He could not cry, though. The emotion was there, but not the physical capability, and he stood there looking down at her, unable to express what he was experiencing.
He reached down to stroke her cheek. His hand did not pass through her, his fingers were stopped by her skin, but there was no sensation of feeling. He felt I
neither the warmth of her body nor the softness of her face. Her cheek was merely an impediment to him. But there was no more wall between them, and though he could no longer feel her the way he had in that split second before he'd been pulled back to the House, just the fact that he could be close to her made him feel better, made him feel good.
He bent down even farther to kiss her, and he realized that when he pressed his cheek to hers, he could hear her sleeping thoughts. She was dreaming about him, planning their reunion, thinking about their future life together, and he had to pull away; it was too painful, too raw. He wished he could talk to her, wished he could communicate, but when he tried to nudge her and wake her up, he found that he could not move her. He could touch her form but was unable to exert any pressure against it. He said her name. Softly first, then louder, but she did not awaken.
He straightened, turned toward the door. Tony was the real reason he'd returned, Tony and Doneen , and he took one last look at Margot's sleeping form, then § walked out of the bedroom. He could not only pass *
through the door now but through the wall, and he walked directly into Tony's room through the back of the closet.
Doneen was on the bed talking to Tony, sitting next to him. The boy could obviously see her, obviously hear her, and there was an expression on his son's face as he listened to the girl that made Daniel feel extremely uneasy.
It was a look he'd never seen before, an insidious, unwholesomely cunning look that seemed totally out of place on Tony and only served to accentuate the influence Doneen was exerting on him.
A doll lay between the two of them.
"Tony!" Daniel yelled.
The boy gave no indication that he could hear.
"Tony!"
Doneen's eyes flicked up at him for a brief second, but she continued talking to his son in a low, steady, even voice, not pausing, and the boy did not turn or even flinch when he screamed his name again.
"TONY!"
Daniel moved closer, grabbed his son's arm, but though his hand closed around the boy's wrist, he could not move the arm, no matter how hard he tried. He put all of his muscles, all of his weight into it, but it was like trying to lift a mountain, he was not able to pull his son even a fraction of an inch.
"Use your mother's teeth for the mouth next time,"
Doneenwas saying. She pointed to the figure's half finished face. "Knock them out while she's asleep and use as many of them as you can on the project."
For the first time since he'd come into the room, Daniel saw hesitancy in his son's face.
"No, Tony!" he yelled, though he knew his son could not hear him. "Don't listen to her!"
"I don't want to do that," Tony said.
"That's okay,"Doneen assured him quickly. "That's all right. Maybe the teeth of someone else. Someone you don't like. Someone at school, maybe."
"Maybe," he said, doubtfully.
She patted his hand, reached between his legs, and gave his crotch a small squeeze. "Just keep on doing what you're doing," she said. "It's a fine job."
"Okay."
Doneenlooked up at Daniel again. "You can work on the hands a bit," she told Tony. "I'll be back in a minute."
He nodded mechanically.
Doneenstood, walked over to the desk. Daniel let go of his son's arm and followed her.
She turned to face him. "I thought I had you killed,"
she said softly, and even though he was already dead, there was something about her tone of voice that frightened him. He could not be threatened with death or physical harm anymore, but in the core of his being he feared her, and he moved back a step.
"What do you think you can do to me? Why are you here?" She stared at him fiercely. "I eat ghosts like you for breakfast."
He kept his voice steady. "You lied. You said you'd leave him alone."
"Yes. I lied."
He reached out and slapped her. His hand connected with her cheek, and her head rocked back.
A look of doubt crossed her features, disappearing as quickly as it had come.
He stared at the red imprint of his hand across her cheek, and thought of what his mother had said.
He could bring her back to the House.
He wasn't exactly sure how to do that. He wasn't sure how he had come back here, for one thing. He'd simply thought about being home and . . . here he was. Was that all there was to it? Could he just think about the House and be returned there?
It was worth a try.
Doneen was scowling at him, and Daniel realized that he might have only one chance.
He'd better make it count.
"I'll kill--" she began.
And he lunged forward.
He grabbed her, tackled her. Concentrating hard, he cleared his mind and thought about where he wanted to go.
They were sucked out of the house and out of the world to the Other Side.
Laurie They walked together into the woods, holding hands.
Dawn's fingers and palm felt slimy in hers, greasy, and Laurie wanted to pull away, but she dared not. She wasn't sure exactly where they were going or what they were going to do, but she was smart enough to know that if she kept quiet, kept her mouth shut and her eyes and ears open, she just might learn something.
Around them, the trees and bushes grew thicker. The path on which they'd started walking had narrowed and dwindled until it was now less a clearly defined trail than a section of forest that was not quite as overgrown as the rest. They'd stopped talking several minutes before, and the only sounds were the crunching of their shoes on themulchy ground and the far-off calls of increasingly bizarre-sounding birds.