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
Beverly called a cab and when it came she piled into the back with her suitcase, glad to be away from the clerk’s eyes, and gave the driver Kay’s address.
She was waiting at the end of her driveway, wearing her mink coat over a flannel nightgown. Pink fuzzy mules with great big pompoms were on her feet. Not orange pompoms, thank God — that might have sent Beverly screaming into the night again. The ride over to Kay’s had been weird: things were coming back to her, memories pouring in so fast and so clearly that it wa s frightening. She felt as if someone had started up a big bulldozer in her head and begun excavating a mental graveyard she hadn’t even known was there. Only it was names instead of bodies that were turning up, names she hadn’t thought of in years: Ben Hanscom, Richie Tozier, Greta Bowie, Henry Bowers, Eddie Kaspbrak . . . Bill Denbrough.
Especially Bill — Stuttering Bill, they had called him with that openness of children that is sometimes called candor, sometimes cruelty. He had seemed so tall to her, so perfect (until he opened his mouth and started to talk, that was).
Names . . . places . . . things that had happened.
Alternately hot and cold, she had remembered the voices from the drain . . . and the blood. She had screamed and her father had popped her one. Her father — T o m —
Tears threatened . . . and then Kay was paying the cab-driver and tipping him big enough to make the startled cabbie exclaim, ‘Thanks, lady! Wow!’
Kay took her into the house, got her into the shower, gave her a robe when she got out, made coffee, examined her injuries, Mercurochromed her cut foot, and put a Band-Aid on it. She poured a generous dollop of brandy into Bev’s second cup of coffee and hectored her into drinking every drop. Then she cooked them each a rare strip steak and sauteed fresh mushrooms to go with them.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘What happened? Do we call the cops or just send you to Reno to do your residency?’
‘I can’t tell you too much,’ Beverly said. ‘It would sound too crazy. But it was my fault, mostly — ‘
Kay slammed her hand down on the table. It made a sound on the polished mahogany like a small-caliber pistol shot. Bev jumped.
‘Don’t you say that,’ Kay said. There was high color in her cheeks, and her brown eyes were blazing. ‘How long have we been friends? Nine years? Ten? If I hear you say it was your fault one more time, I’m going to puke. You hear me? I’m just going to fucking
