came a steady ticking； like a bomb。 She stiffened； then remembered the clock on
the mantel； the clock under glass。 Jack or Danny must have wound it 。。。 or
maybe it had wound itself up； like everything else in the Overlook。
She turned toward the reception desk meaning to go through the gate and the
manager's office and into the kitchen。 Gleaming dull silver； she could see the
intended lunch tray。
Then the clock began to strike； little tinkling notes。
Wendy stiffened； her tongue rising to the roof of her mouth。 Then she relaxed。
It was striking eight； that was all。 Eight o'clock
。。。 five； six； seven 。。。
She counted the strokes。 It suddenly seemed wrong to move again until the
clock had stilled 。。。
。。。 eight 。。。 nine 。。。
（？？ Nine ？？）
。。。 ten 。。。 eleven 。。。
Suddenly； belatedly； it came to her。 She turned back clumsily for the stairs；
knowing already she was too late。 But how could she have known？
Twelve。
All the lights in the ballroom went on。 There was a huge； shrieking flourish
of brass。 Wendy screamed aloud； the sound of her cry insignificant against the
blare issuing from those brazen lungs。
〃Unmask！〃 the cry echoed。 〃Unmask！ Unmask！〃
Then they faded； as if down a long corridor of time； leaving her alone again。
No； not alone。
She turned and he was ing for her。
It was Jack and yet not Jack。 His eyes were lit with a vacant； murderous glow；
his familiar mouth now wore a quivering； joyless grin。
He had the roque mallet in one hand。
〃Thought you'd lock me in？ Is that what you thought you'd do？〃
The mallet whistled through the air。 She stepped backward； tripped over a