The Long Walk

by Richard Bachman

“God will punish him,” Hank Olson was blaring with dead and unearthly assurance. “God will strike him down.” “Shut up or I’ll strike you down myself,” Abraham said.

The day grew yet hotter, and small, quibbling arguments broke out like brushfires.

“Roll over and die now!” Barkovitch yelled back. “Save some energy!” “Shut up and keep walking, killer,” McVries said immediately. Barkovitch looked around at him. “Why don’t you get off my back, McVries? Go walk somewhere else.” “It’s a free road. I’ll walk where I damn well please.”

Olson, who seemed to want to implicate everyone else as an accessory in his own approaching death.

Stebbins smiled more widely, but it was still only an exercise in lip-pulling.

The soldiers did not seem exactly struck to the heart with terror at the thought. They continued to scan the Walkers with their blank eyes, referring occasionally to their computerized console. “They probably take this out on their wives,” Garraty said. “When it’s over.” “Oh, I’m sure they do,” Stebbins said, and laughed.

the longer you went without speaking, the harder it gets to break the silence.

“Everything’s all right.” Barkovitch jumped at the sound of his voice and McVries added, “Not you, killer. Nothing’s ever going to be all right for you. Just keep striding.” “Eat my meat,” Barkovitch snarled. “I guess I caused you some trouble,” Garraty said in a low voice. “I told you, fair is fair, square is square, and quits are quits,” McVries said evenly. “I won’t do it again. I want you to know that.” “I understand that,” Garraty said.

“My feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee—” “Jesus,” Garraty muttered. “Why doesn’t he stop that?” The screams went on and on. “I doubt if he can,” McVries said clinically. “The back treads of the halftrack ran over his legs.” Garraty looked and felt his stomach lurch into his throat. It was true. No wonder the redheaded kid was screaming about his feet. They had been obliterated.

“I’m gonna see my girl in Freeport,” Garraty said rapidly. “And I’m not gonna have any warnings and I’m gonna kiss her, God I miss her, God, Jesus, did you see his legs? They were still warning him, Pete, like they thought he was gonna get up and walk—” “Another boy has gone ober to dat Silver City, lawd, lawd,” Barkovitch intoned. “Shut up, killer,” McVries said absently. “She pretty, Ray? Your girl?” “She’s beautiful. I love her.” McVries smiled. “Gonna marry her?” “Yeah,” Garraty babbled. “We’re gonna be Mr. and Mrs. Norman Normal, four kids and a collie dog, his legs, he didn’t have any legs, they ran over him, they can’t run over a guy, that isn’t in the rules, somebody ought to report that, somebody—” “Two boys and two girls, that what you’re gonna have?” “Yeah, yeah, she’s beautiful, I just wish I hadn’t—” “And the first kid will be Ray Junior and the dog’ll have a dish with its name on it, right?”