Read Online Wolves of the Calla by Stephen King - Free Book Online Page A

was gone and asked the gunslinger if he knew where the kid had gotten off to.
    “Peeled off about half a wheel back,” Roland said, and pointed along the road with the two remaining fingers of his right hand. “He’s all right. If he wasn’t, we’d all feel it.” Roland looked at his burrito, then took an unenthusiastic bite.
    Eddie opened his mouth to say something else, but Susannah got there first. “Here he is now. Hi there, sugar, what you got?”
    Jake’s arms were full of round things the size of tennis balls. Only these balls would never bounce true; they had little horns sticking up from them. When the kid got closer, Eddie could smell them, and the smell was wonderful—like fresh-baked bread.
    “I think these might be good to eat,” Jake said. “They smell like the fresh sourdough bread my mother and Mrs. Shaw—the housekeeper—got atZabar’s.” He looked at Susannah and Eddie, smiling a little. “Do you guys know Zabar’s?”
    “ I sure do,” Susannah said. “Best of everything, mmm- hmmm . And they do smell fine. You didn’t eat any yet, did you?”
    “No way.” He looked questioningly at Roland.
    The gunslinger ended the suspense by taking one, plucking off the horns, and biting into what was left. “Muffin-balls,” he said. “I haven’t seen any in gods know how long. They’re wonderful.” His blue eyes were gleaming. “Don’t want to eat the horns; they’re not poison but they’re sour. We can fry them, if there’s a little deerfat left. That way they taste almost like meat.”
    “Sounds like a good idea,” Eddie said. “Knock yourself out. As for me, I think I’ll skip the mushroom muff-divers, or whatever they are.”
    “They’re not mushrooms at all,” Roland said. “More like a kind of ground berry.”
    Susannah took one, nibbled, then helped herself to a bigger bite. “You don’t want to skip these, sweetheart,” she said. “My Daddy’s friend, Pop Mose, would have said ‘These are prime. ’ ” She took another of the muffin-balls from Jake and ran a thumb over its silky surface.
    “Maybe,” he said, “but there was this book I read for a report back in high school—I think it was called We Have Always Lived in the Castle —where this nutty chick poisoned her whole family with things like that.” He bent toward Jake, raising his eyebrows and stretching the corners of his mouth in what he hoped was a creepy smile. “Poisoned her whole family and they died in AG-o-ny !”
    Eddie fell off the log on which he had been sittingand began to roll around on the needles and fallen leaves, making horrible faces and choking sounds. Oy ran around him, yipping Eddie’s name in a series of high-pitched barks.
    “Quit it,” Roland said. “Where did you find these, Jake?”
    “Back there,” he said. “In a clearing I spotted from the path. It’s full of these things. Also, if you guys are hungry for meat . . . I know I am . . . there’s all kinds of sign. A lot of the scat’s fresh.” His eyes searched Roland’s face. “Very . . . fresh . . . scat.” He spoke slowly, as if to someone who wasn’t fluent in the language.
    A little smile played at the corners of Roland’s mouth. “Speak quiet but speak plain,” he said. “What worries you, Jake?”
    When Jake replied, his lips barely made the shapes of the words. “Men watching me while I picked the muffin-balls.” He paused, then added: “They’re watching us now.”
    Susannah took one of the muffin-balls, admired it, then dipped her face as if to smell it like a flower. “Back the way we came? To the right of the road?”
    “Yes,” Jake said.
    Eddie raised a curled fist to his mouth as if to stifle a cough, and said: “How many?”
    “I think four.”
    “Five,” Roland said. “Possibly as many as six. One’s a woman. Another a boy not much older than Jake.”
    Jake looked at him, startled. Eddie said, “How long have they been there?”
    “Since yesterday,” Roland said. “Cut in