me the
harsh grating sound of the snowtread on rock。 He thought the snowmobile was
going to dump him； and it did totter on the knife…edge of balance before half…
driving； half…skidding back down to the more or less level surface of the snow…
buried road。 Then the dropoff was ahead of him； the headlamp showing an abrupt
end to the snowcover and darkness beyond that。 He turned the snowmobile the
other way； a pulse beating sickly in his throat。
（Keep it on the road Dicky old chum。）
He forced himself to turn the throttle up another notch。 Now the speedometer
needle was pegged just below fifty。 The wind howled and roared。 The headlamp
probed the dark。
An unknown length of time later； he came around a driftbanked curve and saw a
glimmering flash of light ahead。 Just a glimpse； and then it was blotted out by
a rising fold of land。 The glimpse was so brief he was persuading himself it had
been wishful thinking when another turn brought it in view again； slightly
closer； for another few seconds。 There was no question of its reality this time；
he had seen it from just this angle too many times before。 It was the Overlook。
There were lights on the first floor and lobby levels； it looked like。
Some of his terror — the part that had to do with driving off the road or
wrecking the snowmobile on an unseen curve — melted entirely away。 The snowmobile
swept surely into the first half of an S curve that he now remembered
confidently foot for foot； and that was when the headlamp picked out the
（oh dear Jesus god what is it）
in the road ahead of him。 Limned in stark blacks and whites； Hallorann first
thought it was some hide