A promise made twenty-eight years ago calls seven adults to reunite in Derry, Maine, where as teenagers they battled an evil creature that preyed on the city’s children. Unsure that their Losers Club had vanquished the creature all those years ago, the seven had vowed to return to Derry if IT should ever reappear. Now, children are being murdered again and their repressed memories of that summer return as they prepare to do battle with the monster lurking in Derry’s sewers once more.
Авторы: King Stephen Edwin
He got control of Silver little by little as the spring advanced. Neither of his parents noticed during that time that he was conning death by bicycle. He thought that, ‘after the first few days, they had ceased to really see his bike at all — to them it was just a relic with chipped paint which leaned against the garage wall on rainy days.
Silver was a lot more than some dusty old relic, though. He didn’t look like much, but he went like the wind. Bill’s friend — his only real friend — was a kid named Eddie Kaspbrak, and Eddie was good with mechanical things. He had shown Bill how to get Silver in shape — which bolts to tighten and check regularly, where to oil the sprockets, how to tighten the chain, how to put on a bike patch so it would stay if you got a flat.
‘You oughtta paint it,’ he remembered Eddie saying one day, but Bill didn’t want to paint Silver. For reasons he couldn’t even explain to himself he wanted the Schwinn just the way it was. It looked like a real bow-wow, the sort of bike a careless kid regularly left out on his lawn in the rain, a bike that would be all squeaks and shudders and slow friction. It looked like a bow-wow but it went like the wind. It would —
‘It would beat the devil,’ he says aloud, and laughs. His fat seatmate looks at him sharply; the laugh has that howling quality that gave Audra the creeps earlier.
Yes, it looked pretty shoddy, with its old paint and the oldfashioned package carrier mounted above the back wheel and the ancient oogah-horn with its black rubber bulb — that horn was permanently welded to the handlebars with a rusty bolt the size of a baby’s fist. Pretty shoddy.
But could Silver go? Could he? Christ!
And it was a damned good thing he could, because Silver had saved Bill Denbrough’s life in the fourth week of June 1958 — the week after he met Ben Hanscom for the first lime, the week after he and Ben and Eddie built the dam, the week that Ben and Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier and Beverly Marsh showed up in the Barrens after the Saturday matinee. Richie had been riding behind him, on Silver’s package carrier, the day Silver had saved Bill’s life . . . so
he supposed Silver had saved Richie’s, too. And he remembered the house they had been running from, all right. He remembered that just fine. That damned house on Neibolt Street.
