Kathy stayed another three days or so in Zarephath, helping the sheriff and Bill tie up loose ends, process paperwork, and clean up some of the damage. The morning following their closing and locking of the Door, she was pleased to see that despite the damage to the lawn and the front of the Heritage Center building, Deputy Edmundson and the rest of the assembled townspeople had managed to stay safe the rest of the night. Ellie and Bob, looking a little bedraggled but otherwise not seriously hurt, were proudly flanking the deputy, whose splinted leg had been broken while assisting them with the two creatures who had made it into the lobby of the building. Edmundson was checked over, but he was holding up okay. Mostly, he was pleased by Cole’s approval, which he received in the form of a smile and a hearty clap on the shoulder.
Over those three and a half days, Kathy checked in with Reece, who was relieved to hear she was safe and looking forward to seeing her when she got home. She was looking forward to it too. He had a way of soothing her even when she didn’t realize she needed soothing, and in bringing normalcy back to the places in her that she worried might be permanently hollowed out by the strangeness of her job. She had her files and laptop packed and in the car. Her wounds had been checked out by the county hospital, which issued her some new bandages on her shoulder, wrists, and palms, and an otherwise clean bill of health. She saw to it that her circle was treated and cleared by doctors as well, and then moved on to the rest of the injured townsfolk. She determined to her satisfaction that there was no contagion from the other world, and readings on the Door left her confident that both the entities that had slipped through and those that had tried to break in had receded back to that silvery ocean, the island, and the tower.
Kathy was particularly interested in making sure no lingering effects or entities from the world behind the Door remained. She observed, with the help of the townspeople, that while the contents of their letters had been negated across the board, they were no longer being haunted by them in any way. Kathy knew it would take a long time, maybe years, to really feel safe in their homes and familiar hometown places, but they were a resilient people, stoic like the generations before them, and despite their being given a skeleton key to another world, it was far less likely that going forward, they would use it.
There were things worth surviving rather than changing, and there were things for which surviving was the option. Kathy knew that, and so did most of the population of Zarephath.
As Kathy drove away from Zarephath, she passed the far edge of the woods. She thought of Carl Dietrich, Ed Richter, and the Kilmeisters, and finally, of Toby. She remembered telling Bill that heaven and hell were just other dimensions, other planes of existence, and she did believe that, but she hoped that where the dead of Zarephath had gone was a place where the flaw of being human, all across the spectrum, was forgiven and they were at peace.
Lastly, she wondered about the tower she had seen. It was a place of significance and import; she could feel that radiating outward all the way from the island to her spot in the woods of her own dimension. It worried her a little, because it confirmed her belief that in those dimensions between heaven and hell, there was immense power, and with it, truly godlike sentience capable of tapping into that power.
Kathy began to hum along with the radio, then caught herself and stopped. She could do without humming for a while.
She left Zarephath comfortably in the rearview and headed home.