The Waste Lands
The Dark Tower III
Chapter One
38
JAKE HAD NO CLEAR memory of the time which followed, and that was probably merciful. He had left his world over a year
before nine hundred people would commit suicide together in a small South American country called Guyana, but he knew
about the periodic death-rushes of the lemmings, and what was happening in the disintegrating undercity of the Grays
was like that.
There were explosions, some on their level but most far below them; acrid smoke occasionally drifted from the
ventilator grilles, but most of the air-purifiers were still working and they whipped the worst of it away before it
could gather in choking clouds. They saw no fires. Yet the Grays were reacting as if the time of the apocalypse had
come. Most only fled, their faces blank O's of panic, but many had committed suicide in the halls and interconnected
rooms through which the steel sphere led Roland and Jake. Some had shot themselves; many more had slashed their throats
or wrists; a few appeared to have swallowed poison. On all the faces of the dead was the same expression of
overmastering ter ... read full excerpt from: The Waste Lands: (The Dark Tower #3)(Revised Edition) ebook
