King, E.Booki, Stephen King
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Stephen King-FIRESTARTER v1.0
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FIRESTARTER
When two students volunteer as guinea pigs on tests of a new drug, they do not realise
just what they are getting into . . . But it is only when the child arrives that the full
fearsome consequences of the genetic horror of the experiment strikes them. A little girl
who can cause spontaneous combustion at will . . . and their lives become dominated by
the necessity of protecting the child from her temper, from herself and her powers as a
"firestarter"-and from those who seek to profit from those powers-or to kill her.
STEPHEN KING
Firestarter
"It was a pleasure to burn. "-Ray Bradbury, FAHRENHEIT 451
Complete and Unabridged
CHARNWOOD
Leicester
First published in Great Britain in 1980 by
Macdonald, London
First Charnwood Edition
published December 1982
by arrangement with
Macdonald & Co. (Publishers) Ltd.
London
and
The Viking Press, New York
Copyright © Stephen King 1980
British Library CIP Data
King, Stephen, 1947-
Firestarter.- Large print ed.
(Charnwood Library series)
I. Title 8131.54[F] PS3561.I483
ISBN 0-7089-8086-4
Published by
F. A. Thorpe (Publishing) Ltd.
Anstey, Leicestershire
Printed and Bound in Great Britain by
T. J. Press (Padstow) Ltd., Padstow, Cornwall
In memory of Shirley Jackson,
who never needed to raise her voice.
The Haunting of Hill House
The Lottery
We Have Always Lived in the Castle
The Sundial
New York/Albany
1
"DADDY, I'm tired," the little girl in the red pants and the green blouse said
fretfully. "Can't you stop?"
"Not yet, honey."
He was a big, broad-shouldered man in a worn and scuffed corduroy jacket and
plain brown twill slacks. He and the little girl were holding hands and walking up Third
Avenue in New York City, walking fast, almost running. He looked back over his
shoulder and the green car was still there, crawling along slowly in the curbside lane.
"Please, Daddy.
Please
."
He looked at her and saw how pale her face was. There were dark circles under
her eyes. He picked her up and sat her in the crook of his arm, but he didn't know how
long he could go on like that. He was tired, too, and Charlie was no lightweight anymore.
It was five-thirty in the afternoon and Third Avenue was clogged. They were
crossing streets in the upper Sixties now, and these cross streets were both darker and less
populated. . . . But that was what he was afraid of.
They bumped into a lady pushing a walker full of groceries. "Look where you're
goin, whyn't ya?'' she said, and was gone, swallowed in the hurrying crowds.
His arm was getting tired, and he switched Charlie to the other one. He snatched
another look behind, and the green car was still there, still pacing them, about half a
block behind. There were two men in the front seat and, he thought, a third in the back.
What do I do now
?
He didn't know the answer to that. He was tired and scared and it was hard to
think. They had caught him at a bad time, and the bastards probably knew it. What he
wanted to do was just sit down on the dirty curbing and cry out his frustration and fear.
But that was no answer. He was the grownup. He would have to think for both of them.
What do we do now
?
No money. That was maybe the biggest problem, after the fact of the men in
green car. You couldn't do anything with no money in New York. People with no money
disappeared in New York; they dropped into the sidewalks, never to be seen again.
He looked back over his shoulder, saw the green car was a little closer, and the
sweat began to run down his back and his arms a little faster. If they knew as much as he
suspected they did-if they knew how little of the push he actually had left-they might try
to take him right here and now. Never mind all the people, either. In New York, if it's not
happening to you, you develop this funny blindness. Have they been charting me? Andy
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