Annie was writhing and moaning. "She took something small and dark from one of the flap pockets of her mannish shirt.
A car door opened and shut. One of her keys rattled in the lock — a new Kreig that would have defeated even Tom Twyford himself, Paul thought — and then she was striding down the hall again, the thud of her boot-heels mercifully diminishing. So best to eradicate the phone, silence it, as she would silence him if she knew he had gotten even this far. The penguin sitting on his block of ice was still on the knickknack table, but she had thrown many of the other ceramic pieces into the comer, where their littered remains were scattered — sharp little hooks and shards.
Here too, he thought, was his own ghost in a series of overlays, like still pictures which, when riffled rapidly, give the illusion of movement. no, but — "Thats right.
"I dont think theyll come tonight — except maybe to cruise by — but they will come. Annie Wilkes might be surprised to know just how strong they were now — and he sincerely hoped that someday soon she would be.