it slid off the roof of the hotel and fell to the ground。
（Can you see — ？）
Yes。 He could。 The snow had fallen off the hedge dog。 When he came down it had
only been a harmless lump of snow outside the playground。 Now it stood revealed；
an incongruous splash of green in all the eye…watering whiteness。 It was sitting
up； as if to beg a sweet or a scrap。
But this time he wouldn't go crazy； he wouldn't blow his cool。 Because at
least he wasn't trapped in some dark old hole。 He was in the sunlight。 And it
was just a dog。 It's pretty warm out today； he thought hopefully。 Maybe the sun
just melted enough snow off that old dog so the rest fell off in a bunch。 Maybe
that's all it is。
（Don't go near that place 。。。 steer right clear。）
His snowshoe bindings were as tight as they were ever going to be。 He stood up
and stared back at the concrete ring； almost pletely submerged in the snow；
and what he saw at the end he had exited from froze his heart。 There was a
circular patch of darkness at the end of it； a fold of shadow that marked the
hole he'd dug to get down inside。 Now； in spite of the snow…dazzle； he thought
he could see something there。 Something moving。 A hand。 The waving hand of some
desperately unhappy child； waving hand； pleading hand； drowning hand。
（Save me O please save me If you can't save me at least e play with me。。。
Forever。 And Forever。 And Forever。）
〃No；〃 Danny whispered huskily。 The word fell dry and bare from his mouth；
which was stripped of moisture。 He could feel his mind wavering now； trying to
go away the way it had when the woman in the room had 。。。 no； better not think
of that。
He grasped at the strings of reality and held them tightly。 He had to get out
of here。 Concentrate on that。 Be cool。 Be like the Secret Agent Man。 Would
Patrick McGoohan be crying and peeing in his pants like a little baby？
Would his daddy？
That calmed him somewhat。
From behind him； that soft Hump sound of falling snow came again。 He turned
around and the head of one of the hedge lions was sticking out of the snow now；
snarling at him。 It was closer than it should have been； almost up to the gate
of the playground。
Terror tried to rise up and he quelled it。 He was the Secret Agent Man； and he
would escape。
He began to walk out of the playground； taking the same roundabout course his
father had taken on the day that the snow flew。 He concentrated on operating the
snowshoes。 Slow； flat strides。 Don't lift your foot too high or you'll lose your
balance。 Twist your ankle and spill the snow off the crisscrossed lacings。 It
seemed so slow。 He reached the corner of the playground。 The snow was drifted
high here and he was able to step over the fence。 He got halfway over and then
almost fell flat when the snowshoe on his behind foot caught on one of the fence
posts。 He leaned on the outside edge of gravity； pinwheeling his arms；
remembering how hard it was to get up once you fell down。
From his right； that soft sound again； falling clumps of snow。 He looked over
and saw the other two lions； clear of snow now down to their forepaws； side by
side； about sixty paces away。 The green indentations that were their eyes were
fixed on him。 The dog had turned its head。
（It only happens when you're not looking。）
〃Oh！ Hey — 〃
His snowshoes had crossed and he plunged forward into the snow； arms waving
uselessly。 More snow got inside his hood and down his neck and into the tops of
his boots。 He struggled out of the snow and tried to get the snowshoes under
him； heart hammering crazily now
（Secret Agent Man remember you're the Secret Agent）
and overbalanced backward。 For a moment he lay there looking at the sky；
thinking it would be simpler to just give up。
Then he thought of the thing in the concrete tunnel and knew he could not。 He
gained his feet and stared over at the topiary。 All three lions were bunched
together now； not forty feet away。 The dog had ranged off to their left； as if
to block Danny's retreat。 They were bare of snow except for powdery ruffs around
their necks and muzzles。 They were all staring at him。
His breath was racing now； and the panic was like a rat behind his forehead；
twisting and gnawing。 He fought the panic and he fought the snowshoes。
（Daddy's voice： No； don't fight them； doc。 Walk on them like they were your
own feet。 Walk with them。）
（Yes； Daddy。）
He began to walk again； trying to regain the easy rhythm he had practiced with
his daddy。 Little by little it began to e； but with the rhythm came an
awareness of just how tired he was； how much his fear had exhausted him。 The
tendons of his thighs and calves and ankles were hot and trembly。 Ahead he could
see the Overlook； mockingly distant； seeming to stare at him with its many
windows； as if this were some sort of contest in which it was mildly interested。
Danny looked back over his shoulder and his hurried breathing caught for a
moment and then hurried on even faster。 The nearest lion was now only twenty
feet behind； breasting through the snow like a dog paddling in a pond。 The two
others were to its right and left； pacing it。 They were like an army platoon on
patrol； the dog； still off to their left； the scout。 The closest lion had its
head down。 The shoulders bunched powerfully above its neck。 The tail was up； as
if in the instant before he had turned to look it had been swishing back and
forth； back and forth。 He thought it looked like a great big housecat that was
having a good time playing with a mouse before killing it。
（ — falling — ）
No； if he fell he was dead。 They would never let him get up。 They would
pounce。 He pinwheeled his arms madly and lunged ahead； his center of gravity
dancing just beyond his nose。 He caught it and hurried on； snapping glances back
over his shoulder。 The air whistled in and out of his dry throat like hot glass。
The world closed down to the dazzling snow； the green hedges； and the whispery
sound of his snowshoes。 And something else。 A soft； muffled padding sound。 He
tried to hurry faster and couldn't。 He was walking over the buried driveway now；
a small boy with his face almost buried in the shadow of his parka hood。 The
afternoon was still and bright。
When he looked back again； the point lion was only five feet behind。 It was
grinning。 Its mouth was open； its haunches tensed down like a clockspring。
Behind it and the others he could see the rabbit； its head now sticking out of
the snow； bright green； as if it had turned its horrid blank face to watch the
end of the stalk。
Now； on the Overlook's front lawn between the circular drive and the porch； he
let the panic loose and began to run clumsily in the snowshoes； not daring to
look back now； tilting further and further forward； his arms out ahead of him
like a blind man feeling for obstacles。 His hood fell back； revealing his
plexion； paste white giving way to hectic red blotches on his cheeks； his
eyes bulging with terror。 The porch was very close now。
Behind him he heard the sudden hard crunch of snow as something leaped。
He fell on the porch steps； screaming without sound； and scrambled up them on
his hands and knees； snowshoes clattering and askew behind him。
There was a slashing sound in the air and sudden pain in his leg。 The ripping
sound of cloth。 Something else that might have — must have — been in his mind。
Bellowing； angry roar。
Smell of blood and evergreen。
He fell full…length on the porch； sobbing hoarsely； the rich； metallic taste
of copper in his mouth。 His heart was thundering in his chest。 There was a small
trickle of blood ing from his nose。
He had no idea how long he lay there before the lobby doors flew open and Jack
ran out； wearing just his jeans and a pair of slippers。 Wendy was behind him。
〃Danny！〃 she screamed。
〃Doc！ Danny； for Christ's sake！ What's wrong？ What happened？〃
Daddy was helping him up。 Below the knee his snowpants were ripped open。
Inside； his woollen ski sock had been ripped open and his calf had been
shallowly scratched 。。。 as if he had tried to push his way through a closely
grown evergreen hedge and the branches had clawed him。
He looked over his shoulder。 Far down the lawn； past the putting green； were a
number of vague； snow…cowled humps。 The hedge animals。 Between them and the
playground。 Between them and the road。
His legs gave way。 Jack caught him。 He began to cry。
》
THE LOBBY
He had told them everything except what had happened to him when the snow had
blocked the end of the concrete ring。 He couldn't bring himself to repeat that。
And he didn't know the right words to express the creeping； lassitudinous sense
of terror he had felt when he heard the dead aspen leaves begin to crackle
furtively down there in the cold darkness。 But he told them about the soft sound
of snow falling in clumps。 About the lion with its head and its bunched
shoulders working its way up and out of the snow to chase him。 He even told them
about how the rabbit had turned its head to watch near the end。
The three of them were in the lobby。 Jack had built a roaring blaze in the
fireplace。 Danny was bundled up in a blanket on the small sofa where once； a
million years ago； three nuns had sat laughing like girls while they waited for
the line at the desk to thin out。 He was sipping hot noodle soup from a mug。
Wendy sat beside him； stroking his hair。 Jack had sat on the floor； his face
seeming to grow more and more still； more and more set as Danny told his story。
Twice he pulled his handkerchief out of his back pocket and rubbed his
sorelooking lips with it。
〃Then they chased me；〃 he finished。 Jack got up and went over to the window；
his back to them。 He looked at his mommy。 〃They chased me all the way up to the
porch。〃 He was struggling to keep his voice calm； because if he stayed calm
maybe they would believe him。 Mr。 Stenger hadn't stayed calm。 He had started to
cry and hadn't been able to stop SO THE MEN IN THE WHITE COATS had e