Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters used here, nor do I own the location that the story takes place in. That honor goes to Stephen King. I hope that I do his genius justice with this.

Come Together

Chapter 1

Arrival

The car's motor took on a more urgent pitch as the driver downshifted, becoming something less like a machine and more like a wounded animal, aware of its coming demise, but, unable to do anything to end its suffering. The muffler had a hole in it and that wasn't helping the volume any.

Please, thought the driver, just this one last hill, that's all I am asking. Just one last hill and, then I will ask nothing else from you. Surely the road can't go any higher. He was sure of this because if it did, the car wouldn't be completing the journey with him. He didn't know how much further he had to go, but, he didn't really relish the thought of a trek through the mountains.

The road in front of car continued upwards, almost without end. The driver couldn't see the top of the hill because of the sunlight glaring off the dirty windshield. The top could be a few hundred feet away or it could end somewhere the other side of the Pearly Gates.

"What am I doing here?" the driver asked himself for about the 10th time. Thinking back, he tried to remember the start of this trip. No joy. He couldn't remember anything before he turned off the main highway and headed up into the mountains. Before that, nothing. His driver's license gave his name as Harold Lauder, but, that meant nothing to him. It said that he lives in Ogunquit, Maine, but that meant even less to him. Neither his name nor his address sounded familiar to him. He wasn't sure if his name really was Harold, or, if that was a fake name. He thought that maybe his name was something else, something like Eagle or Raven. No, that's not it. Maybe it was Hawk. Yeah, that sounds familiar. But, he didn't think he looked Indian.

Almost as if someone had heard his earlier plea, the car crested the current hill and the motor evened out.

"Thank god," Harold muttered to himself. "Don't know how much of that this damn thing could have took." He patted the dashboard like a father proud of his kid for a minor accomplishment.

Now that the concern of the car having a fatal heart attack had passed for the moment, Harold could take in the scenery. And, Harold had to admit, it was breathtaking. The Rockies are something that everyone should see in person. He wasn't sure how he knew that this was the Rocky Mountains, but, it just felt right. The peaks above him disappeared into the mists, looking as if the sky was too tired to stay at its normal heights and decided to take a rest. To his right, a guard rail provided minimal protection from a drop that went on forever. (Well, maybe not forever, but, definitely a long fucking way.)

As he drove around the next bend, his destination was reviled to him. Nestled between to smaller peaks was a monstrous white building overlooking a breathtaking valley. To call it a mansion would be insulting it. It would be like comparing the Titanic to an inflatable raft. They both do the same thing, but, one does it with so much more style. He continued driving and a large white sign came into view.

The Overlook Hotel

So, the Overlook is where I am heading. That's nice to know. He turned onto the road leading to the covered entrance. As he got closer, he saw a sign near the door.

The management of the Overlook Hotel welcomes:

KingCon 2006

What the hell is KingCon thought Harold. Must be some kind of Sci-Fi convention.

He parked his car near the door and shut off the motor. The car motor shut off with a stutter, as if it was afraid that it would never start up again. It finally sputtered and died. The silence was deafening after the last hour of raw exhaust. Harold rummaged in the glove box and found a bottle of aspirin. He found a bottle of lukewarm water and took 4 pills. The door opened and he stepped out into the cool mountain air. He promptly doubled over with intense pain in his back.

"Fuck! How long have I been in that fucking thing?" he asked himself as he held on to the open door, waiting for the knot of pain to recede.

Crunching gravel announced the arrival of someone, but, Harold was in too much pain to look up. He saw a pair of well worn cowboy boot covered with the legs of faded jeans come to a stop a few feet away. He wanted to look up, but, couldn't.

"Howdy there pardner. What seems to be the problem?" said a man's voice that was overflowing with barely contained glee.

"My …. back …. ," sputtered Harold. "It's ….. cramped up." Harold grimaced as another stab of pain shot up his spine.

"Take your time, take your time," said the voice. "Some things you just can't rush."

After what seemed like an eternity, but, was probably only 2 or 3 minutes, the pain started to ebb. As Harold was able to straighten up, he finally got a full look at the person standing in front of him. His breath caught because he was certain that he had seen him before, but couldn't place just when or where. All he was certain of was that their last meeting wasn't a pleasant one. The man was wearing a faded jean jacket over a plain white tee shirt, jeans and boots. Shit Kickers. He couldn't place where he heard that before, but, he knew that he had heard some call those type of boots by that name.

Stuck to his chest was a sticker that said "Hi, my name is:" on the top and written below that was the name Randall Flagg.

"Glad to see that you've decided to join the land o' the upright and living. Thought that I was gonna have to run in and get ole Jack to bring out a stretcher to getcha into the 'Look." Flagg's voice was still full of glee, as if the thought someone falling out on the driveway was something to look forward too. "But, to be honest with you," he continued in a loudconspiratorialwhisper, "Ole Jackie Boy's been into the bottle for most of the day and really isn't in any shape to help anyone, least of all himself." His smile got even bigger and he resumed his normal tone. "Still, you got to respect someone that has the courage to do it up right. I mean, if you are gonna get shit faced, might as well not fuck around. Nope, nothing half assed for Jackie Boy. Being the caretaker for this here hotel must be a hard job. What with all the demands that the hotel makes of him." Flagg glancedbehind himat the door and then back at Harold. "Well, enough about that. Let's get you inside so you can meet the others."

Flagg grasped Harold by the arm and led him to thehotel. As he opened the door, a stunningly beautiful woman burst from the hotel and threw her arms around Flagg.

"There you are Randy," she said drunkenly. "I wondered where you ran off to. You promised to dance with me and then you run off. That wasn't very nice of you. You do realize that you are gonna have to be punished, don't you?" She grinned at him, and then looked at Harold. "Who is your friend, Randy?"

"Of course, where are my manners? Harold Lauder, meet Ardelia Lortz. Ardelia, Harold." Ardelia reached out her hand and Harold shook it gently. For just a second, he thought he caught a whiff of flowers covering something spicy, something old, but, then it was gone as fast as it came.

"Pleased to meet you Ms. Lortz," Harold stammered.

Flagg couldn't contain a giggle. "Ms? Oh, that's rich! I gotta tell Pennywise about that one. He will bust a gut!" He continued laughing until Ardelia glared at him and then stormed off.

"I'm gonna pay for that one," Flagg said, though he didn't really sound too worried. "Well, anyways, lets get you inside."

Flagg put his arm around Harold's shoulder and led him into the hotel.