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She stood swaying； her arms thrown out like the arms of a stage hypnotist； and she began to totter toward them。
It happened in the blink of a second。 Chris had not had time to expend her first scream。 Billy's reflexes were good and his reaction was instantaneous。 He shifted into low； popped the clutch； and floored it。
The Chevrolet's tyres screamed against the asphalt； and the car sprang forward like some old and terrible mancater。 The figure swelled in the windshield and as it did the presence became louder
（CARRIE CARRIE CARRIE）
and louder
（CARRIE CARRIE CARRIE）
like a radio being turned up to full volume。 Time seemed to close around them in a frame and for a moment they were frozen even in motion： Billy
（CARRIE just like the dogs CARRIE jut like the goddam dogs CARRIE brucie i wish i could CARRIE be CARRIE you）
and Chris
（CARRIE Jesus not to kill her CARRIE didn't mean to kill her CARRIE billy i dont CARRIE want to CARRIE see it CA）
and Carrie herself
（see the wheel car wheel gas pedal i see the WHEEL o god my heart my heart my heart）
And Billy suddenly felt his car turn traitor； e alive； slither in his hands； The Chevvy dug around in a smoking half…circle； straight pipes racketing； and suddenly the clapboard side of The Cavalier was swelling； swelling； swelling and
（this is）
they slammed into it at forty； still accelerating； and wood sprayed up in a neon…tinted detonation。 Billy was thrown forward and the steering column speared him。 Chris was thrown into the dashboard。
The gas tank split open； and fuel began to puddle around the rear of the car。 Part of one straight pipe fell into it； and the gas bloomed into flame。
Carrie lay on her side； eyes closed； panting thickly。 Her chest was on fire。
She began to drag herself across the parking lot； going nowhere。
（momma i'm sorry it all went wrong o momma o please o please i hurt so bad momma what do i do）
And suddenly it didn't seem to matter any more； nothing would matter if she could turn over； turn over and see the stars； turn over and look once and die。
And that was how Sue found her at two o'clock。
When Sheriff Doyle left her； Sue walked down the Street and sat on the steps of the Chamberlain U…Wash…It。 She stared at the burning sky without swing it。 Tommy was dead。 She knew it was true and accepted it with an case that was dreadful。
And Carrie had done it。
She had no idea how she knew it； but the conviction was as pure and right as arithmetic。
Time passed。 It didn't matter。 Macbeth； hath murdered sleep and Carrie hath murdered time。 Pretty good。 A bon mot Sue smiled dolefully。 Can this be the end of our heroine； Miss Sweet Little Sixteen？ No worries about the country club and Kleen Korners now。 Not ever。 Gone。 Burned out。 Someone ran past； blabbering that Carlin Street was on fire。 Good for Carlin Street。 Tommy was gone。 And Carrie had gone home to murder her mother。
（？？？）
She sat bolt upright； staring into the darkness。
（？？？）
She didn't know how she knew。 It bore no relationship to anything she had ever read about telepathy。 There were no pictures in her head； no great white flashes of revelation； only prosaic knowledge； the way you know summer follows spring； that cancer can kill you； that Carrie's mother was dead already； that
（！！！！！）
Her heart row thickly in her chest。 Dead？ She examined in her knowledge of the incident； trying to disregard the insistent weirdness of knowing from nothing。
Yes； Margaret White was dead； something to do with her heart。 But she had stabbed Carrie。 Carrie was badly hurt。 She was
There was nothing more。
She got up and ran back to her mother's car。 Ten minutes later she parked on the corner of Branch and Carlin Street； which was on fire。 No trucks were available to fight the blaze yet； but saw…horses had been put across both ends of the street； and greasily smoking roads pots lit a sign which said；
DANGER！ LIVE WIRES！
Sue cut through two back yards and forced her way through a budding hedge that scraped at her； white short； stiff bristles。 She came out one yard from the White's house and crossed over。
The house was in flames； the roof blazing。 It was impossible to even think about getting close enough to look in。 But in the strong firelight she saw something better。 the splashed trail of Carrie's blood。 She followed it with her head down； past the larger spots where Carrie had rested； through another hedge； across a Willow Street back yard； and then through an undeveloped tangle of scrub pine and oak。 Beyond that； a short； unpaved spur … little more than a footpath … wound up the rise of land to the right； angling away from Route 6。
She stopped suddenly as doubt struck her with vicious and corrosive force。 Suppose she could find her？ What then？ Heart failure？ Set on fire？ Controlled and forced to walk in front of an oning car or fire engine？ Her peculiar knowledge told her Carrie would be capable of all things。
（find a policeman）
She giggled a little at that one and sat down in the grass； which was silked with dew。 She had already found a policeman。 And even supposing Otis Doyle had believed her； what then？ A mental picture came to her of a hundred desperate manhunters surrounding Came； demanding her to hand over her weapons and give up。 Carrie obediently raises her hands and plucks her head from her shoulders。 Hands it to Sheriff Doyle； who solemnly puts it in a wicker basket marked People's Exhibit A。
（and tommy's dead）
Well； well。 She began to cry。 She put her hands over her face and sobbed into them。 A soft breeze snuffled through the juniper bushes on top of the hill。 More fire engines screamed by on Route 6 like huge red hounds in the night。
（the town's burning down o well）
She had no idea how long she sat there； crying in a grainy half…doze。 She was not even aware that she was following Carrie's progress toward The Cavalier； no more than she was aware of the process of respiration unless she thought about it。 Carrie was hurt very badly； was going on brute determination alone at this point。 It was three miles out to The Cavalier； even across…country； as Carrie was going。 Sue
（watched？ thought？ doesn't matter）
as Carrie fell in a brook and dragged herself out； icy and shivering。 It was really amazing that she kept going。 But of course it was for Momma。 Momma wanted her to be the Angel's Fiery Sword； to destroy…
（she's going to destroy that too）
She got up and began to run clumsily； not bothering to follow the trail of blood。 She didn't need to follow it any more。
From The Shadow Exploded （pp。 164…165）：
Whatever any of us may think of the Carrie White affair； it is over。 It's time to turn to the future。 As Dean McGuffin points out； in his excellent Science Yearbook article； if we refuse to do this； we will almost certainly have to pay the piper … and the price is apt to be a high one。
A thorny moral question is raised here。 Progress is already being made toward plete isolation of the TK gene。 It is more or less assumed in the scientific munity （see； for instance； Bourke and Hannegan's 'A View Toward Isolation of the TK Gene with Specific Remendations for Control Parameters' in Mocrobiology Annual； Berkeley： 1982） that when a testing procedure is established； all school…age children will under