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
on opposite sides, pawns controlled by opposing forces, he and Henry had grown very close.
Henry expected them to stand and fight.
It expected them to stand and fight.
And be killed.
A chilly explosion of white light seemed to fill his head. They would be victims of the killer that had been stalking Derry ever since George’s death — all seven of them. Perhaps their bodies would be found, perhaps not. It all depended on whether or not It could or would protect Henry — and, to a lesser degree, Belch and Victor. Yes. To the outside, to the rest ofthis town, we’ll have been victims of the killer. And that’s right, in a funny sort of way that really is right. It wants us dead. Henry’s the tool to get it done so It doesn’t have to come out. Me first, I think — Beverly and Richie might be able to hold the others, or Mike, but Stan’s scared, and so’s Ben, although I think he’s stronger than Stan. And Eddie’s got a broken arm. Why did I lead them down here? Christ! Why did I?
‘Bill?’ Ben said anxiously. The others joined them beside the clubhouse. Thunder whacked again, and the bushes began to rustle more urgently. The bamboo rattled on in the fading stormy light.
‘Bill — ‘ It was Richie now.
‘Shhh!’ The others fell uneasily silent under his blazing haunted eyes.
He stared at the underbrush, at the path twisting away through it and back toward Kansas Street, and felt his mind suddenly go up another notch, as if to a higher plane. There was no stuttering in his mind; he felt as if his thoughts had been borne away on a mad flow of intuition — as if everything were coming to him.
George at one end, me and my friends at the other. And then it will stop
(again)
again, yes, again, because this has happened before and there always has to be some sacrifice at the end, some terrible thing to stop it, I don’t know how I can know that but I do . . . and they . . . they . . .
‘They luh-luh –let it happen,’ Bill muttered, staring wide –eyed at the ratty pigtail of path. ‘Shuh-Shuh-Sure they d-d-do.’
‘Bill?’ Bev asked, pleading. Stan stood on one side of her, small and neat in a blue polo shirt and chinos. Mike stood on the other, looking at Bill intensely, as if reading his thoughts.
They let it happen, they always do, and things quiet down, things go on, It . . . It . . .
(sleeps)
sleeps . . . or hibernates like a bear . . . and then it starts again, and they know . . . people know . . . they know it has to be so It can be.
‘I luh-h i h –l u h –l-l-l — ‘
Oh please God oh please God he thrusts his fists please God against the posts let me get this out the posts and still insists oh God oh Christ OH PLEASE LET ME BE ABLE TO TALK!
‘I l-led you d-down huh-here b-b-b-b-because nuh-nuh-noplace is s-s-safe,’ Bill said. Spittle blabbered from his lips; he wiped them with the back of one hand. ‘Duh-Duh-Derry is It. D-D-Do you uh-uh-understand m-m-me?’ He glared at them; they drew away a little, their eyes shiny, almost thanotropic with fright. ‘Duh-herry is Ih-Ih-It! Eh –Eh –hennyp-p-place we g– g-go . . . when Ih-Ih-It g-g-g-gets uh-us, they w-w-wuh-hon’t suh-suh-see, they w-w-won’t huh-huh-hear, they w-w-won’t nuh-nuh-know.’ He looked at them, pleading. ‘Duh-don’t y-y-you sub-see h-how it ih-ih-is? A-A-A11 we c-c-can duh-duh-do is
