While Larry Underwood was taking his Fourth of July spill only a state away, Stuart Redman and Angie Galvan (or how she'd like to say to others, Andros) were sitting on a large rock at the side of the road and eating their lunch. They could hear the sound of approaching engines. Stu finished his can of beer at a swallow and carefully folded over the top of the waxed-paper tube the Ritz crackers were in.

Motorcycles coming, small ones by the sound. Two-fifties? In the great stillness it was impossible to tell how far they were. Ten miles, maybe, but only maybe. Plenty of time to eat more if they wanted to, but they didn't. In the meantime, the sun was warm and the thought of meeting fellow creatures pleasant.

So they sat up a little straighter when the motorcycles finally swept around the bend, and they saw they were a couple of Honda 250s, ridden by a boy of about eighteen and a girl who was maybe older than the boy.

Are these the people Mother Abagail was speaking of? Angie thought.

The girl was wearing a bright yellow blouse and bright blue Levi's. They saw them sitting on the rock, and both Hondas swerved a little as their drivers' surprise caused control to waver briefly. The boy's mouth dropped open. For a moment it was unclear whether they would stop or just speed by heading west.

Stu raised an empty hand and said "Hi!" in an amiable voice. His heart was beating heavily in his chest. He wanted them to stop. They did.

"I think they're all right, Harold." The girl said, but the boy she called Harold continued to stand astride his bike, looking at Stu with an expression of surprise and considering antagonism.

"I said I think-" she began again.

"How are we supposed to know that?" Harold snapped without taking his eyes off Stu and Angie.

"Well, I'm glad to see you, I'm thinking so is Angie. If that makes any difference," Stu said.

"What if I don't believe you?" Harold challenged, and Stu saw that he was scared green. Scared by him and by his responsibility to the girl.

"Well, then, I don't know." Stu climbed off the rock. Harold's hand jittered toward his holstered pistol.

"Harold, you leave that alone," the girl said. Then she fell silent for a moment they all seemed helpless to proceed further- a group of four dots which, when connected, would form a square whose exact shape could not yet be foreseen.

The couple, or not so couple, talked about going to Stovington. We told them not to, for there had been nothing there for them to see.

"I don't trust him…her either!" Harold said, pointing a finger at me.

"What did I do? Man, I'm not after your girl! Neither is Stu." I said, smirking in an unfriendly way.

"…I apologize. We've just been traveling a lot. Harold's a bit…uneasy right now. We both lost our parents." Frannie, whom I had become quite acquainted with, said.

Harold shot her a glare, but nodded.

"Alright, let's go somewhere else but Stovington. I could never go back there again." I said shuddering.

So we all decided to head out to find Glen, and decided to ask him if he'd like to come along. But before we did, we stopped at a little abandoned restaurant.

Frannie and I sat at a table, talking and giggling. It had been so long since I had a female companion. She was starting to be a good friend, even if I had only met her a few hours prior.

I told her about Mother Abagail, Randall Flagg and of course, Nick. She envied me for having a man, but I could tell she liked Stu. And, I knew, at that split second, he liked her too. Just the way they exchanged glances…

I missed and longed for Nick...