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Now a Lifetime original movie, Stephen King's haunting story about an author of a series of mystery novels who tries to reconcile her old life with her life after a horrific attack and the one thing that can save her: Revenge.
Tess Thorne, a famous mystery writer, faces a long drive home following a book signing engagement. Advised to take a shortcut at the suggestion of the event’s planner, Tess sets out for home, well after dark. On a lonely stretch of New England road, her tire blows out, and when a man in a pick up stops, it is not to help her, but to repeatedly assault her and leave her for dead. Tess survives, and she plots a revenge that will bring her face-to-face with another stranger: the one inside herself, capable of gruesome violence.
This story was originally published in Stephen King’s acclaimed collection, Full Dark, No Stars.
businesslike woman who identified herself as Andrea. She listened to Tess, and said they would send a car right out, her driver would be Manuel. Yes, she knew exactly where Tess was calling from, because they ran cars out to The Stagger Inn all the time. “Okay, but I’m not there,” Tess said. “I’m at the intersection about half a mile down from th—” “Yes, ma’am, I have that,” Andrea said. “The Gas & Dash. Sometimes we go there, too. People often walk down and call if they’ve had a little too
This was followed by someone leaving a message. A woman. By the time Tess struggled back to wakefulness, the caller had clicked off. She looked at the clock on the night table and saw it was quarter to ten. She’d slept another two hours. For a moment she was alarmed: maybe she’d suffered a concussion or a fracture after all. Then she relaxed. She’d had a lot of exercise the previous night. Much of it had been extremely unpleasant, but exercise was exercise. Falling asleep again was natural. She
which remained clear. Clearer since she’d had the tequila, actually. She paced a series of rapid circles around the kitchen, head down, one hand massaging the ring of bruises around her throat. It did not occur to her that she was circling her kitchen as she had circled the deserted store after crawling out of the pipe Big Driver had meant for her tomb. Did she really think Ramona Norville had sent her, Tess, to her psychotic son like some kind of sacrifice? Was that likely? It was not. Could
almost a mile down the road from here. Also, the voice she heard was nothing like the one she usually manufactured for Tom. Nor did it sound like her own. It was a cold voice. And she—she had a gun in her mouth. She couldn’t talk at all. “She was never a very good detective, was she?” She took it out. “Who? Doreen?” In spite of everything, she was shocked. “Who else, Tessa Jean? And why would she be a good one? She came from the old you. Didn’t she?” Tess supposed that was true. “Doreen
in the top half. She looked for the silk strip with her name on it, but it was gone. It had been removed carefully, but she saw one tiny cut in the fine Italian leather where the stitches had been unpicked. “Yours?” Tom asked. “You know it is.” “What about the eyebrow pencil?” “They sell those things by the thousands in drugstores all over Amer—” “Is it yours?” “Yes. It is.” “Are you convinced yet?” “I . . .” Tess swallowed. She was feeling something, but she wasn’t sure what it was.