Chapter 15

           BythetimehereachedSylviaPittston’sshack,thewindhaddiedutterlyandthewholeworldseemedtowait.Hehadbeenindesertcountrylongenoughtoknowthatthelongerthelull,theharderthewindwouldblowwhenitfinallydecidedtostartup.Aqueer,flatlighthungovereverything.

           Therewasalargewoodencrossnailedtothedooroftheplace,whichwasleaningandtired.Herappedandwaited.Noanswer.Herappedagain.Noanswer.Hedrewbackandkickedinthedoorwithonehardshotofhisrightboot.Asmallboltontheinsiderippedfree.ThedoorbangedagainstahaphazardlyplankedwallandscaredratsintoskitteringflightSylviaPittstonsatinthehall,satinamammothdarkwoodrocker,andlookedathimcalmlywiththosegreatanddarkeyes.Thestormlightfellonhercheeksinterrifyinghalf-tones.Sheworeashawl.Therockermadetinysqueakingnoises.

           Theylookedateachotherforalong,clocklessmoment.

           "Youwillnevercatchhim,"shesaid."Youwalkinthewayofevil."

           "Hecametoyou,"thegunslingersaid.

           "Andtomybed.HespoketomeintheTongue.He-"

           "Hescrewedyou."

           Shedidnotflinch."Youwalkanevilway,gunslinger.Youstandinshadows.YoustoodintheshadowsoftheholyplacelastnightDidyouthinkIcouldn’tseeyou?"

           "Whydidhehealtheweed-eater?"

           "HewasanangelofGod.Hesaidso."

           "Ihopehesmiledwhenhesaidit."

           Shedrewherlipbackfromherteethinanunconsciouslyferalgesture."Hetoldmeyouwouldfollow.Hetoldmewhattodo.HesaidyouaretheAntichrist"

           Thegunslingershookhishead.