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
‘Bitch threw me,’ Richie muttered in that same tired, just-coming-out-of-sleep voice. ‘I hit something hard. That’s all . . . all I remember. Where’s Bevvie?’
‘Back this way,’ Ben said. Quickly, he told them about the eggs. ‘I stamped over a hundred. I think I got all of them.’
‘I pray to God you did,’ Richie said. He was starting to sound better. ‘Put me down, Big Bill. I can walk . . . Is the water louder?’
‘Yes,’ Bill said. The three of them were holding hands in the dark. ‘How’s your head?’
‘Hurts like hell. What happened after I got knocked out?’
Bill told them as much as he could bring himself to tell.
‘And It’s dead,’ Richie marvelled. ‘Are you sure, Bill?’
‘Yes,’ Bill said. ‘This time I’m really shuh –hure.’
‘Thank God,’ Richie said. ‘Hold onto me, Bill, I gotta barf.’
Bill did, and when Richie was done they walked on. Every now and then his foot struck something brittle that rolled off into the darkness. Parts of the Spider’s eggs that Ben had
tromped to pieces, he supposed, and shivered. It was good to know they were going in the right direction, but he was still glad he couldn’t see the remains.
‘Beverly! ‘ Ben shouted. ‘Beverly!’
‘Here — ‘
Her cry was faint, almost lost in the steady rumble of the water. They moved forward in the dark, calling to her steadily, zeroing in.
When they finally reached her, Bill asked if she had any matches left. She put half a pack in his hand. He lit one and saw their faces spring into ghostly being — Ben with his arm around Richie, who was standing slumped, blood running from his right temple, Beverly with Eddie’s head in her lap. Then he turned the other way. Audra was lying crumpled on the flagstones, her legs asprawl, her head turned away. The webbing had mostly melted off her.
The match burned his fingers and he let it drop. In the darkness he misjudged the distance, tripped over her, and nearly went sprawling.
‘Audra! Audra, can you h-h-hear m-me?’
He got an arm under her back an d sat her up. He slipped a hand under the sheaf of her hair and pressed his fingers against the side of her neck. Her pulse was there: a slow, steady beat.
He lit another match, and as it flared he saw her pupils contract. But that was an involuntary function; the fix of her gaze did not change, even when he brought the match close enough to her face to redden her skin. She was alive, but unresponsive. Hell, it was worse than that and he knew it. She was catatonic.
The second match burned his finge rs. He shook it out.
‘Bill, I don’t like the sound of that water,’ Ben said. ‘I think we ought to get out of here.’
‘How will we do it without Eddie?’ Richie murmured.
‘We can do it,’ Bev said. ‘Bill, Ben’s right. We have to get out.’
‘I’m taking her.’
‘Of course. But we ought to go now.’
‘Which way?’
‘You’ll know,’ Beverly said softly. ‘You killed It. You’ll know, Bill.’
He picked Audra up as he had picked Richie up and went back to the others. The feel of her in his arms was disquieting, creepy; she was like a breathing waxwork.
‘Which way, Bill?’ Ben asked.
‘Id-d-don’t — ‘
(you’ll know, you killed It and you’ll know)
‘Well, c-come on,’ Bill said. ‘Let’s see if we can’t find out. Beverly, gruh-gruh-hab these.’ He handed her the matches.
‘What about Eddie?’ she asked. ‘We have to take him out.’
‘How c-can w –we?’ Bill asked. ‘It’s . . . B-Beverly, the pluh-hace is f-falling apart.’
‘We gotta get him out of here, man,’ Richie said. ‘Come on, Ben.’
Between them they managed to hoist up Eddie’s body. Beverly lit them back to the fairytale door. Bill took Audra through it, holding her up from the floor as best he could. Richie and Ben carried Eddie through.
‘Put him down,’ Beverly said. ‘He can stay here.’
‘It’s too dark,’ Richie sobbed. ‘You know . . . it’s too dark. Eds . . . he . . . ‘
‘No, it’s okay,’ Ben said. ‘Maybe this is where he’s supposed to be. I think maybe it is.’
They put him down, and Richie kissed Eddie’s cheek. Then he looked blindly up at Ben. ‘You sure?’
‘Yeah. Come on, Richie.’
Richie got up and turned toward the door. ‘Fuck you, Bitch!’ he cried suddenly, and kicked the door shut with his foot. It made a solid chukking sound as it closed and latched.
‘Why’d you do that?’ Beverly asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Richie said, but he knew well enough. He looked back over his shoulder just as the match Beverly was holding went out. ‘Bill — the mark on the door?’ ‘What about it?’ Bill panted. Richie said : ‘It’s gone.’
5
Derry / 10:30 A.M.
