The Dark Tower - Stephen King [86]
Jake abruptly burst out laughing.
“What?” Susannah asked. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he said. “It’s just that…” His laughter pealed out again, sounding fabulously young in that gloomy chamber. “It’s just that they look like commuters at Penn Station, lined up at the pay telephones to call home or the office.”
Eddie and Susannah considered this for a moment, and then they also burst out laughing. So, Roland thought, Jake’s seeing must have been true. After all they’d been through, this did not surprise him. What made him glad was to hear the boy’s laughter. It was right that Jake should cry for the Pere, who had been his friend, but it was good that he could still laugh. Very good, indeed.
Three
The door they wanted was to the left of the utility bays. They all recognized the cloud-and-lightning sigul on it at once from the note “R.F.” had left them on the back of a sheet of the Oz Daily Buzz, but the door itself was very different from the ones they had encountered so far; except for the cloud and lightning-bolt, it was strictly utilitarian. Although it had been painted green they could see it was steel, not ironwood or the heavier ghostwood. Surrounding it was a gray frame, also steel, with thigh-thick insulated power-cords coming out of each side. These ran into one of the walls. From behind that wall came a rough rumbling sound which Eddie thought he recognized.
“Roland,” he said in a low voice. “Do you remember the Portal of the Beam we came to, way back at the start? Even before Jake joined our happy band, this was.”
Roland nodded. “Where we shot the Little Guardians. Shardik’s retinue. Those of it that still survived.”
Eddie nodded. “I put my ear against that door and listened. ‘All is silent in the halls of the dead,’ I thought. ‘These are the halls of the dead, where the spiders spin and the great circuits fall quiet, one by one.’ ”
He had actually spoken this aloud, but Roland wasn’t surprised Eddie didn’t remember doing so; he’d been hypnotized or close to it.
“We were on the outside, then,” Eddie said. “Now we’re on the inside.” He pointed at the door into Thunderclap, then with one finger traced the course of the fat cables. “The machinery sending power through these doesn’t sound very healthy. If we’re going to use this thing, I think we ought to right away. It could shut down for good anytime, and then what?”
“Have to call Triple-A Travel,” Susannah said dreamily.
“I don’t think so. We’d be basted…what do you call it, Roland?”
“Basted in a hot oast. ‘These are the rooms of ruin.’ You said that, too. Do you recall?”
“I said it? Right out loud?”
“Aye.” Roland led them to the door. He reached out, touched the knob, then pulled his hand back.
“Hot?” Jake asked.
Roland shook his head.
“Electrified?” Susannah asked.
The gunslinger shook his head again.
“Then go on and go for it,” Eddie said. “Let’s boogie.”
They crowded close behind Roland. Eddie was once more holding Susannah on his hip and Jake had picked Oy up. The bumbler was panting through his usual cheery grin and inside their gold rings his eyes were as bright as polished onyx.
“What do we do—” if it’s locked was how Jake meant to finish, but before he could, Roland turned the knob with his right hand (he had his remaining gun in the left) and pulled the door open. Behind the wall, the machinery cycled up a notch, the sound of it growing almost desperate. Jake thought he could smell something hot: burning insulation, maybe. He was just telling himself to stop imagining things when a number of overhead fans started up. They were as loud as taxiing fighter airplanes in a World War II movie, and they all jumped. Susannah actually put a hand on her head, as if to shield it from falling objects.
“Come on,” Roland snapped. “Quick.” He stepped through without a backward look. During the brief moment when he was halfway through, he seemed to be broken into two pieces. Beyond the gunslinger, Jake could see a vast and gloomy room, much bigger than the Staging Area. And silvery crisscrossing lines that looked like dashes of pure light.
“Go on,