Gwendy’s Final Task

Boris gives his tail a single hard flex, propelling himself across the room like a bullet. Two of the flies escape, but Boris catches the third one in his claws, mashes it, and pops it into his alien maw. Gwendy is repulsed and fascinated in equal measure. The scorpion’s forward motion propels it toward the wall, but before it hits, Boris does a forward roll and uses his armored tail to push himself back the other way. He finishes up in almost exactly the same place he started and just hangs there.

“Amazing,” Gwendy says. “How do you get him back in his cage?”

“I put him in myself,” Adesh says. “I don a glove to do it. I have no urge to be stung, even if it’s no worse than the sting of a bee. Boris is trainable, as you see, but he is far from tame. No no no.”

“And maar? What does that mean?”

Adesh goes to the door of the big containment facility, then turns back and gives her a gentle smile in which one gold tooth twinkles. “Kill,” he says.

32

WHEN GWENDY GETS BACK to her quarters, the light on her laptop is flashing. Five fresh emails have come in, but the only one she cares about is Charlotte Morgan’s. She pushes aside her paperwork and opens it.

Gwen: I didn’t think this story could get any stranger, but boy was I wrong. You were on the money about Detective Mitchell knowing more than he was telling. Take a look at the attached video and get back to me with further instructions. It’s pretty lengthy—once we got the guy talking, he wouldn’t shut up—but most of what you’re looking for can be found starting at around the seven-minute mark.

I’ve also attached a second, much shorter video that came from the iPhone of an eyewitness to Ryan’s accident (which as you surmised wasn’t an accident at all). The phone belongs (or belonged) to a man named Vernon Beeson, from Providence, Rhode Island. He was on his way to Presque Isle to see his sister. He never arrived. We can’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was now floating around in the Derry sewer system. Mitchell claims a patrolman found the phone in a trashcan outside Bassey Park. Mitchell also claims not to know what happened to Mr. Beeson. All we could get out of him on that subject was “Maybe the clown took him.” Weird, huh?

Very weird, Gwendy thinks, and resists the sudden urge to pull the little chocolate-dispensing lever on the side of the button box. She goes back to Charlotte’s communique instead.

It’s hard to watch, Gwen, even harder to believe, and I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you decided to hit the DELETE button without ever opening it. I might even suggest you do exactly that, but I know it’s not my place. We found Mr. Beeson’s phone locked away in the gun safe in Mitchell’s basement, right where he told us it would be.

Last thing I’m going to say and then I’ll let you get to it. I’ve said it before: please be careful, old friend. I know you must feel as though you’re all alone up there, but I promise you’re not. Sending love and luck your way. Godspeed.

C