Under the Dome

Sam's eyes, faded Yankee blue, shifted to him, and he tried to smile. 'Maybe I did… for the doin. But I was happy in the doin. I don't think you can ever make up for a thing like—' He began to cough again, and more blood flew from his mostly toothless mouth.

'Stop now,' Julia said. 'Stop trying to talk.' They were kneeling on either side of him. She looked at Barbie. 'Forget about carrying him. He tore something inside. We'll have to go for help.'

'Oh, the sky,' SamVerdreaux said.

That was the last. He sighed his chest flat, and there was no next breath to lift it. Barbie moved to close his eyes but Julia took his hand and stopped him.

'Let him look,' she said. 'Even if he's dead, let him look as long as he can.'

They sat beside him.There was birdsong. And somewhere, Horace was still barking.

'I suppose I ought to go and find my dog,'Julia said.

'Yes,' he said. 'The van?'

She shook her head. 'Let's walk. I think we can handle half a mile if we go slow—don't you?'

He helped her up. 'Let's find out,' he said.

18

As they walked, hands linked above the grassy crown of the old supply road, she told him as much as she could about what she called 'being inside the box.'

'So,' he said when she had finished. 'You told her about the terrible things we're capable of- or showed them to her—and she still let us go.'

'They know all about terrible things,' she said.

'That day in Fallujah is the worst memory of my life. What makes it so bad is…' He tried to think how Julia had put it. 'I was the doer instead of the one done by.'

'You didn't do it,' she said. 'That other man did.'

'It doesn't matter,' Barbie said. 'The guy's just as dead no matter who did it.'

'Would it have happened if there had only been two or three of you in that gym? Or if it had been just you alone?'

'No. Of course not.'

'Then blame fate. Or God. Or the universe. But stop blaming yourself

He might not ever be able to do that, but he understood what Sam had said at the end. Sorrow for a wrong was better than nothing, Barbie supposed, but no amount of after-the-fact sorrow could ever atone for joy taken in destruction, whether it was burning ants or shooting prisoners.

He had felt no joy in Fallujah. On that score he could find himself i

Soldiers were ru

Pie stopped and took her by the arms.

'I love you for what you did, Julia.'

'I know you do,' she said calmly.

'What you did was very brave.'

'Do you forgive me for stealing from your memories? I didn't mean to; it just happened.'

'Totally forgiven.'

The soldiers were closer. Cox was ru

Barbie looked up at the blue sky, breathed deeply of the clearing air. 'I can't believe it's gone.'

'Will it ever come back, do you think?'

'Maybe not to this planet, and not because of that bunch.They'll grow up and leave their playroom, but the box will stay. And other kids will find it. Sooner or later, the blood always hits the wall.'

'That's awful.'

'Maybe, but can I tell you something my mother used to say?'

'Of course.'

He recited, "Tor every night, twice the bright.'"

Julia laughed. It was a lovely sound.

'What did the leatherhead girl say to you at the end?' he asked. 'Tell me quick, because they're almost here and this belongs just to us.'

She seemed surprised that he didn't know. 'She said what Kayla said. "Wear it home, it'll look like a dress."'

'She was talking about the brown sweater?'

She took his hand again. 'No. About our lives. Our little lives'

He thought it over. 'If she gave it to you, let's put it on.'

Julia pointed. 'Look who's coming!'

Horace had seen her. He put on speed and wove through the ru

'Come to mama, sweetheart!' she shouted.

He leaped. She caught him and sprawled backward, laughing. Barbie helped her to her feet.

They walked back into the world together, wearing the gift that had been given them: just life.

Pity was not love, Barbie reflected… but if you were a child, giving clothes to someone who was naked had to be a step in the right direction.

November 22, 2007—March 14, 2009

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I first tried to write Under the Dome in 1976, and crept away from it with my tail between my legs after two weeks' work that amounted to about seventy-five pages. That manuscript was long lost on the day in 2007 when I sat down to start again, but I remembered the opening section—'The Airplane and the Woodchuck'—well enough to re-create it almost exactly.

I was overwhelmed not by the large cast of characters—I like novels with generous populations—but by the technical problems the story presented, especially the ecological and meteorological consequences of the Dome. The fact that those very concerns made the book seem important to me made me feel like a coward—and lazy—but I was terrified of screwing it up. So I went on to something else, but the idea of the Dome never left my mind.

In the years since, my good friend Russ Dorr, a physician's assistant from Bridgeton, Maine, has helped me with the medical details in many books, most notably The Stand. In the late summer of 2007, I asked him if he would be willing to take on a much larger role, as head researcher on a long novel called Under the Dome. He agreed, and thanks to Russ, I think most of the technical details here are right. It was Russ who researched computer-guided missiles,jet stream patterns, methamphetamine recipes, portable generators, radiation, possible advances in cell phone technology, and a hundred other things. It was also Russ who invented Rusty Everett's homemade radiation suit and who realized people could breathe from tires, at least for a while. Have we made mistakes? Sure. But most will turn out to be mine, either because I misunderstood or misinterpreted some of his answers.