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n it came to memory； the healthy mind was able to access them pretty much at will。
Need something to move them with； Jonesy thought； and when he looked around he was not exactly amazed to see a bright red hand…dolly。 This was a magic place； a make…it…up…as…you…go…along place； and the most marvelous thing about it； Jonesy supposed； was that everybody had one。
Moving quickly； he stacked some of the boxes marked DUDDITS on the dolly and ran them into the Tracker Brothers office at a trot。 He dumped them by tipping the dolly forward； spilling them across the floor。 Untidy； but he could worry about the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval later。
He ran back out； feeling for Mr Gray； but Mr Gray was still with the truck…driver 。 。 。 Janas； his name was。 There was the cloud； but the cloud didn't sense him。 It was as dumb as 。 。 。 well； as dumb as fungus。
Jonesy got the rest of the DUDDITS boxes； and saw that the next stack had also acquired scribbled grease…pencil labels。 These latter said DERRY； and there were too many to take。 The question was whether or not he needed to take any of them。
He pondered this as he pushed the second load of memory…boxes into the office。 Of course the Derry boxes would be stacked near the Duddits boxes； memory was both the act and the art of association。 The question remained whether or not his Derry memories mattered。 How was he supposed to know that when he didn't know what Mr Gray wanted？
But he did know。
Mr Gray wanna go south。
Derry was south。
Jonesy sprinted back into the memory storehouse； pushing the dolly ahead of him。 He'd take as many of the boxes marked DERRY as he could； and hope they were the right ones。 He would also hope that he sensed Mr Gray's return in time。 Because if he was caught out here； he would be swatted like a fly。
4
Janas watched； horrified； as his left hand reached out and opened the driver's…side door of his truck； letting in the cold； the snow； and the relentless wind。 'Don't hurt me anymore； mister； please don't； you can have a ride if you want a ride； just don't hurt me anymore； my head…'
Something suddenly rushed through Andy Janas's mind。 It was like a whirlwind with eyes。 He felt it prying into his current orders； his expected arrival time at Blue Base 。 。 。 and what he knew of Derry； which was nothing。 His orders had taken him through Bangor； he'd never been to Derry in his life。
He felt the whirlwind pull back and had one moment of delirious relief … I don't have what it needs； it's going to let me go … and then understood that the thing in his mind had no intention of letting him go。 It needed the truck； for one thing。 It needed to shut his mouth； for another。
Janas put up a brief but bitterly energetic struggle。 It was this unexpected resistance that allowed Jonesy time to remove at least one stack of the boxes marked DERRY。 Then Mr Gray once more resumed his place at Janas's motor controls。
Janas saw his hand shoot out and up to the driver's…side visor。 His hand gripped the ballpoint pen and yanked it free； snapping the rubber band which held it。
No！ Janas shouted； but it was too late。 He caught a shiny zipping glitter as his hand； which was gripping the ballpoint like a dagger； plunged the pen into his staring eye。 There was a popping sound and he jittered back and forth behind the wheel like a badly managed puppet； his fist digging the pen in deeper and deeper； up to the halfway mark； then to the three…quarter mark； his split eyeball now running down the side of his face like a freakish tear。 The tip struck something that felt like thin gristle； bound up for a moment； then passed through into the meat of his brain。
You bastard； he thought； what are you； you bas…
There was a final brilliant flash of light inside his head and then everything went dark。 Janas slumped forward over the wheel。 The pickup's horn began to blow。
5
Mr Gray hadn't gotten much from Janas … mostly that unexpected struggle for control at the end … but one thing which came through clearly was that Janas wasn't on his own。 The transport column of which he had been a part had strung out because of the storm； but they were all headed to the same place； which Janas had identified in his mind as both Blue Base and Gosselin's。 There was a man there that Janas had been afraid of； the man in charge； but Mr Gray could not have cared less about Creepy Kurtz/the boss/Crazy Abe。 Nor did he have to care； since he had no intention of going anywhere near Gosselin's store。 This place was different and this species； although only semi…sentient； posed mostly of emotions； was different； too。 They fought。 Mr Gray had no idea why； but they did。
Best to finish it quickly。 And to that end； he had discovered an excellent delivery system。
Using Jonesy's hands； Mr Gray pulled Janas from behind the wheel and carried him to the guardrails。 He threw the body over the side； not bothering to watch as it tumbled down the slope to the frozen streambed。 He went back to the truck； looked fixedly at the two plastic…wrapped bundles in the back； and nodded。 The animal corpses were good for nothing。 The other； though 。 。 。 that would be useful。 It was rich with what he needed。
He looked up suddenly； Jonesy's eyes widening in the blowing snow。 The owner of this body was out of its hiding place。 Vulnerable。 Good； because that consciousness was starting to annoy him； a constant muttering （sometimes rising to a panicky squeal） on the lower level of his thought…process。
Mr Gray paused a moment longer； trying to make his mind blank； not wanting Jonesy to have the slightest warning 。 。 。 and then he pounced。
He didn't know what he had expected； but not this。 Not this dazzling white light。
6
Jonesy was nearly caught out。 Would have been caught out if not for the fluorescents with which he had lit his mental storeroom。 This place might not actually exist； but it was real enough to him； and that made it real enough to Mr Gray when Mr Gray arrived。
Jonesy； who was pushing the dolly filled with boxes marked DERRY； saw Mr Gray appear like magic at the head of a corridor of high…stacked cartons。 It was the rudimentary humanoid that had been standing behind him at Hole in the Wall； the thing he had visited in the hospital。 The dull black eyes were finally alive； hungry。 It had crept up； caught him outside his office refuge； and it meant to have him。
But then its bulge of a head recoiled； and before its three…fingered hand shielded its eyes （it had no lids； not even any lashes）； Jonesy saw an expression on its gray sketch of a face that had to be bewilderment。 Maybe even pain。 It had been out there； in the snowy dark； disposing of the driver's body。 It had e in here unprepared for the discount…mart glare。 He saw something else； too： The invader had borrowed its expression of surprise from the host。 For a moment； Mr Gray was a horrible caricature of Jonesy himself。
Its surprise gave Jonesy just enough time。 Pushing the dolly ahead of him almost without realizing it and feeling like the imprisoned princess in some fucked…up fairy…tale； he ran into the office。 He sensed rather than saw Mr Gray reaching out for him with his three…fingered hands （the gray skin was raw…looking； like very old uncooked meat）； and slammed the office door just ahead of their clutch。 He bumped the dolly with his bad hip as he spun around … he accepted that he was inside his own head； but all of this was nevertheless pletely real … and just managed to run the bolt before Mr Gray could turn the knob and force his way in。 Jonesy engaged the thumb…lock in the center of the doorknob for good measure。 Had the thumb…lock been there before； or had he added it？ He couldn't remember。
Jonesy stepped back； sweating； and this time ran his butt into the handle of the dolly。 In front of him； the doorknob turned back and forth； back and forth。 Mr Gray was out there； in charge of the rest of his mind … and his body； as well … but he couldn't get in here。 Couldn't force the door； didn't have the heft to break it down； didn't have the wit to pick the lock。
Why？ How could that be？
'Duddits；' he whispered。 'No bounce； no play。'