Chapter 14 Chapter 8 George's Room and the Old House in Nabert Street 2

9 The kids crowded there to buy candy, popcorn, and Ben was nowhere to be seen. "Perhaps he's already in." "He said he had no money. That stern-looking ticket collector wouldn't let him in." Rich pointed at Mrs. Cole with a finger. "Hey, I don't want to wait until he doesn't get in first, but the movie is about to start," Richie said. "Where did he go?" "You can buy a ticket and leave it at the box office." Beverly's suggestion sounded reasonable. "When he comes—" Just then Ben appeared on the corner.He was out of breath from running, and his fat belly was shaking.He saw Richie and waved to him quickly.Suddenly he saw Beverly, stopped his hands in the air, and stared in surprise.He put down his hand and walked slowly over.

"Hi, Richie." He said, looking at Beverly, as if his face would turn red if he looked at it a little longer. "Hi, Beverly." "Hello, Ben," she said.Then there was a strange silence—not exactly awkwardness; it seemed to Richie that it was almost a vibrating force.He felt a tinge of jealousy, as there was an affection that flowed between them.Whatever it was, he was left out. "Oops, haystacks!" Richie came again. "I thought you were too scared to come. This movie will make you lose 10 pounds. Oh, and make your hair turn white. When you walk out of the theater, you will have to be held by the usher. You will Trembling with fear."

Richie turned to buy a ticket.Ben touched his arm.He hesitated and glanced at Beverly.She was looking at him with a smile.Ben finally spoke up. "I was here," he said, "but I just turned the corner and I saw these guys coming." "Which group?" Richie asked, but he already knew who it was. "Henry Powers, Victor Chris, or Beltz Hudgens." Richie whistled softly. "They must have gone in. I didn't see them buying candy there." "Well, I guess so." "If I were them, I wouldn't have to pay to see any horror movies," Rich said.

"Just look in the mirror at home. And save a few bucks for bread." Beverly smiled happily, but Ben smiled forcedly.Ben knew very well that on that day last week, Henry Powers only wanted to teach him a lesson, but in the end he wanted to kill him. "Tell you what," Richie reassured him, "we'll be sitting on the balcony, and they'll all be sitting in the second or third row downstairs with their legs crossed." "Are you sure?" Ben asked.He dare not say that Rich understands how much of a threat those guys are to him... Of course, Henry is the biggest threat.

Richie, who had just escaped the beatings of Henry's group three months ago, knew Henry and his group of buddies deeply. "If I wasn't absolutely sure, I wouldn't have gone in," he said. "I want to see those two movies, but I don't want to risk my life to see them." "Besides, if they pick a fight, we can tell Mr. Fox to throw them out," said Beverly. Ben looks at Beverly and Rich suspiciously. "You can't let them ruin your life," Richie told him patiently. "Got it?" "I suppose so too." Ben sighed.In fact, he didn't understand Richie's words at all...but Beverly's presence tipped the scales in his heart.If she didn't come, he would persuade Richie to watch the movie another day.If Rich insisted, he would have to withdraw first.But Beverly was here, and he didn't want to act like a coward in front of her.Moreover, to be with her, sitting in the dark corner of the balcony, had a powerful attraction for him.

"We won't go in until the movie starts." Richie smiled and punched him hard on the arm. "Stupid, Haystack, do you still want to live forever?" They stood outside and waited until the movie started.Rich imitated Mr. Nell's Irish accent and told Beverly the story of that day in Banlun.Beverly just giggled at first, then couldn't help it.Ben also relaxed a little.But his eyes kept wandering between the glass doors of the Aladdin Theater and Beverly's face. The seat on the 10th floor is not bad.Rich saw Henry sitting in the second row downstairs with his gang of cronies.There were five or six of them, all wearing big-toed leather shoes, with their legs crossed.Mr. Fox walked over and reminded them to put their feet down, and they did.As soon as Mr. Fox turned away, they put their feet up again.After 5 minutes, 10 minutes, Mr. Fox walked over again, and the scene was repeated.They knew Fox wouldn't dare throw them out.

The footage is great.But that "Teen Werewolf" was scarier... probably because the guy seemed a little melancholy.It's not his fault, it's the hypnotic soil that ruined his life.And the hypnotist was able to do it because the kid turned into a werewolf was always full of anger and resentment about everything.Richie wondered if anyone in the world really suppressed his resentment like that.Henry Powers was full of resentment, though of course he never concealed it. The werewolf was finally killed.In the final scene a policeman tells his colleagues very seriously that this should teach people not to play a game that only God understands.The curtain fell, the lights came on, and the crowd applauded.Although it was a bit of a headache, Rich still found it very enjoyable.He should probably see an eye doctor ASAP and get another pair of glasses.

Ben tugged at his sleeve. "They saw us, Richie." There was panic in the voice. "Ok?" "Bowles and Chris. They looked up here as they went out. Saw us!" "It's okay, it's okay," Richie said, "Calm down, Haystack. Calm down. We go out the side door.do not be afraid. " They went downstairs, Rich led the way, Beverly walked in the middle, and Ben stepped in behind, looking back after taking two steps. "Are those guys really going to get revenge on you, Ben?" Beverly asked. "Yeah, I think so," said Ben. "I got into a fight with Henry Powers on school holidays."

"Did he hurt you?" "It didn't work out," Ben said, "I guess that's why they're still on." "That bastard suffered too," Rich said in a low voice, "I heard people say that. I don't think he would be willing to do it." Rich pushed open the door of the theater exit, and the three came to Aladdin An alley between the theater and Anna's.The end of the alley was sealed off with a board.A cat looking for food in a litter box darted past them and climbed over the board at the end of the alley.The lid of a trash can slammed shut.Startled, Beverly grabbed Richie's arm and laughed nervously. "I still think about those horrible scenes in the movie."

she explained sheepishly. "You won't—" Richie started, when Henry Powers' voice came from behind him. "Hello, brats." 10 Several people turned around in surprise.Henry, Victor and Beltz were standing at the entrance of the alley.There are two guys standing behind them. "Damn it, I knew I couldn't hide from it," Ben complained in a low voice. Richie turned immediately to retreat to the Aladdin Theatre.But the door behind him was locked, and there was no way to open it from the outside. "Say goodbye, brat." Henry said, rushing towards Ben.

What happened next to Rich felt like something out of a movie—it would never happen in real life.In real life, children fight, pick up their teeth, and go home. But this time it was completely different. Beverly stepped forward and stepped aside, as if to greet Henry and shake his hand. Rich heard the sound of Henry's shoe needles hitting the road.Victor and Beltz followed, and the other two guys blocked the alley. "Don't bully him!" Beverly yelled loudly. "Have the ability to go to a duel with someone who is as strong as you." "He's as stupid as an elephant, bitch," Henry bellowed, not at all manly. "You go away—" Richie stuck out a foot.He didn't mean to, his feet stuck out, as naturally as a wisecrack.Henry tripped over it and fell to the ground.Trash was strewn all over the brick pavement in the alley, and Henry slid far out like a game wheel. He stood up slowly, his shirt covered with coffee grounds, mud, and arrowroot. "You're dead!" he screamed. Ben had been petrified just now, but now he came to his senses.With a roar, he raised a trash can and threw it hard, hitting Henry on the back, knocking him to the ground. "Let's go!" Richie yelled. They ran towards the alley.Victor stands in front.Bane growled and bumped his head on Victor's stomach. "Ow!" Victor snorted and sat on the ground. Belz grabbed Beverly by her braids and shoved her against the wall.Beverly jumped up and ran towards the alley.Richie followed behind and picked up a trash can lid, and when Beltz punched him, Richie lifted the lid.There was a "bang", which made Rich's arms go numb.Beltz hugged the swollen hand and jumped around screaming. Richie turns and goes after Ben and Beverly.At this time, a guy guarding the alley grabbed Beverly, and Ban Zhou was wrestling with him.The other guy rained fists on Bane's lower back.Richie kicked up and landed on his ass.The guy howled loudly in pain.Rich grabbed Beverly with one hand and Ben with the other, and shouted, "Run!" They ran along Central Avenue, and passers-by turned to look at them.Ben's belly quivered; Beverly's braids tossed; Rich held his glasses.His head was still humming, and his ears seemed to be swollen from the blow he had just received, but he felt so good that he couldn't help laughing.Beverly laughed too.Ben laughed too. They crossed Court Street and sat down on a bench in front of the police station: it seemed the safest place in Derry at the moment.Beverly put her arms around Ben and Richie's necks, hugging them tightly. "Great!" Her eyes twinkled with joy. "Did you see the distressed appearance of those guys? Did you see it?" "I saw it, clearly." Ben was out of breath. "I don't want to see them again." They laughed happily again. "Long live the Losers' Club!" Richie yelled impassionedly. "Ulla! Ulla! Ulla!" A policeman poked his head out of a window on the second floor and ordered them loudly: "Get out of here, you children! Go now! Go!" Richie was about to answer when Ben kicked him. "Shut up, Richie." Once the words came out, Ben couldn't believe he said them. "By the way, Richie," Beverly said too.looked at him tenderly. "Well," Richie said, "what do you want to do? Go to Henry Powers and ask him if he wants to fight one on one?" "Shut up." Beverly scolded him. "Huh? What do you mean?" "It's nothing," Beverly said. "Some guys are too arrogant." A flushed Ben asked hesitantly, "Did that guy hurt your hair, Beverly?" She smiled softly at him, and immediately understood what she'd been guessing—it was the postcard that Ben had sent her with the beautiful lingering lines. "No, it doesn't hurt much," he said. "Let's go to Ban Lun to play." Richie suggested. So they went there—or fled there.Thinking about it later, Ricky thinks that became the theme of that summer.Ban Lun is their paradise.Beverly came to Ban Lun for the first time.They crossed the dammed branch of the Kentucky River, stepped on the remnants of the dam, found another path, and finally climbed the bank of the eastern branch.Looking to the left are the two cement columns.At the foot of the concrete columns, thick pipes stretched above the stream.From these drains a tearful of muddy water flows into the Kentucky River.Someone pooped in the town upriver, and now it's coming out of here again, Ben thought, remembering Mr. Nell's introduction to Derry's sewer system the other day.He felt a vague sense of helpless anger.There used to be fish swimming in the river, but now I can't even see a clam snail, I can only pick up a handful of paper. "It's so beautiful here." Beverly sighed. "Yeah, that's right," Richie agreed. "There are no black flies, and the wind blows the mosquitoes away." There was a siren sound.They saw a long train of freight cars rumbling across the far embankment toward the freight yard.Hey, if it was a passenger car, people would see this beautiful scenery, thought Riki.First I saw the houses of the poor in the old Cape area, then the bamboo-covered swamp on the other side of the Kentucky River, and finally, before driving through Ban Lun, I could see the rubble pit full of rubbish. At this time, he suddenly remembered the story of Eddie—the leper hiding under the old abandoned house on Nabert Street.He pushed the thought out of his head, turned to Ben and asked, "What's your favorite part, the haystack?" "Huh?" Bensi turned his head in embarrassment.While Beverly admired the Kentucky River in the distance and thought about his own thoughts, Ben kept watching her profile...at the bruise on her face. "Those two movies, dumbass. Which is my favorite part?" "The part where Franstein feeds the dead bodies to the alligators," Ben says, "is my favorite part." "That's terrible!" Beverly said, shivering. "I hate that stuff. Alligators and piranhas and sharks." "Really? What is a piranha?" Richie asked curiously. "It's a little fish," Beverly said, "with tiny teeth. But they're actually a kind of shark. If you fall into a river with piranhas, they'll eat you bone." "Wow! I'd love to have some of those fish," Richie said happily. "I'll just put 'em in Henry's tub." Ben giggled. "I don't know if he takes a bath or not." "I don't know that, but what I do know is that we have to beware of those guys." Beverly said, touching the scars on her face. "My dad called the day before yesterday because I broke a stack of dishes. Once a week is enough." There was a silence.Rich broke the silence by chatting about his favorite scenes from the movie. Beverly found some daisies on the river floor and picked one.When she rubbed the daisy against their chins, they both felt the caress on their shoulders and smelled the fragrance of her hair.Her face was close to Ben's for a brief moment, and that night dreamed of her brief yet eternal gaze. Their conversation had just ended when they heard rustling footsteps on the path—Bill.Dunbang stood there, followed by a child.Rich knew that his name was Bradley, and he stuttered a little. "Boss! He changed to the English butler's voice again." Nice to meet you, Mr. Dunbang, my master. " Bill looked at them with a smile——when Bill looked at him, Ben, Beverly, and that bradley, Rich felt a strange certainty in his heart.Bill's eyes told him that Beverly was one of them.And that Bradley was not. He may stay here for a while today, and he may come again.But, sorry, the losers club is full.We already have members with language barriers - he is not one of them. The thought suddenly filled him with an irrational terror.It is as if a swimmer suddenly realizes that he has swam too far, that the water is above his head.His intuition told him: We were involved in an event and were selected to participate.This is no accident.are we all here Then this intuition is like shattered glass on a stone floor, jumbled together and meaningless.And that's okay too.Bill is here, and he'll take care of everything.Bill was the tallest and handsomest of them all.Richie tilted his head and saw Beverly's eyes fixed on Bill; in the distance, Ben was looking at Beverly's face with distaste.Bill was also the strongest of them all -- not just physically.Richie didn't understand the meaning of "charisma" and "charisma".He only knew that there was a power deeply buried in Bill, and that it would manifest unexpectedly on many occasions.Ideal guessed that if Beverly liked Bill, Ben wouldn't be jealous (he would, Rich thought, if Beverly liked me); he would think it was natural.Besides, Bill was kind.Kindness and strength shone through him.He was like a knight in an old movie, strong and kind. bill.Dunbang stood there with his hands crossed, smiling brightly. "Ok, ok, ok, now everyone is, is, here, here. I, we play, play, what, what, what?" "Any cigarettes?" Richie asked hopefully. 11 Five days later, towards the end of June, Bill told Rich that he wanted to go to Nebert Street, to see under the porch where Eddie had seen the leper. "What did you say?" Richie was shocked and a little curious. "I wanna. Wanna, wanna look, look under that porch," Bill said.His tone was firm, but he didn't look at Ricky. Richie added, "There's nothing there. He probably just saw a homeless guy and added it. God, don't you know Eddie?" "No, that's right, I, I know Ai, Ai, Eddie. But, but do you remember, do you remember that photo, photo, photo in the photo album?" "Yes, but—" "Listen, listen, listen to me, I say." Bill looked directly at Rich and spoke very slowly.He analyzed the similarities between Bane's experience and Eddie's experience, and connected them to the moving photo.Bill speculates that all the children who have died in Derry since last November were killed by that clown. "And-and-and-maybe it's not just them," Bill finally said, "and there are. So, all those lost, missing kids?" "So what do you want? An autograph from the clown?" "If that little, little, little, ugly kills other children, then he, he kills too. Kill, kill Joe, George. "Said Bill. His eyes were on Richie, like a slab of stone—hard, firm, unyielding." I, I wanted to kill, kill, kill it. " "God!" Richie horrified. "How could you do that?" "I, my dad, dad got a hand, hand, pistol," Bill said, "and it's on the top shelf, shelf, in his wall, closet, closet." "If it's human," Richie said, "if we can find him sitting on top of a pile of children's bones. Bill, I don't want to kill a man just because he's wearing a clown suit. You're me Best friend, but I wouldn't do it; I wouldn't let you do it if I could stop you." "If, if it is true, there are, there are piles, piles of corpses, corpses, bones, what, what should I do?" Richie licked his lips, momentarily speechless.He asked Bill again, "What would you do if it wasn't a man, Bill? What if it was a monster? What if there was such a thing? Ben said it was a mummy, and the balloon was flying against the wind, and the mummy had no shadow. George The pictures in the album... are either our hallucinations or witchcraft. I want to tell you that I don't believe it's an illusion. The wound on your hand is certainly not an illusion, is it?" Bill shook his head. "So if that's not a person, what do we do, Bill?" "Then, then I, I, we have to think, think about other, other ways." "Oh, yes," Richie said, "I figured that out. If you shoot four or five times and that monster keeps coming towards us like a werewolf in a movie, you can try your slingshot. If that doesn't work , I just withdraw a handful of sneezing powder. If it goes any further, we call a timeout and say, 'Hey, stop. That's it, Mr. Monster. Oh, I have to go to the library and keep reading about this. I Will be back. Excuse me.' Are you going to say that, boss?" He watched his friend shake his head vigorously.He hoped that Bill would insist on looking at the porch of the old house, and at the same time hoped -- prayed desperately -- that Bill would drop the idea.In some ways it's like going to a horror movie, but in another way -- and this is an important one -- it's a whole different thing.Because it's not safe. It's not like watching a movie where you know in the end it's all going to end; it doesn't do any harm if it doesn't end.But the photo in George's room was different from the movie.He'd thought he'd forgotten, but he was obviously deluding himself, because now he could see the circle of scars on Bill's fingers.If he hadn't dragged Bill back—unbelievable, Bill laughed.Really laughing. "You, you, you want, want me, I'll show you, look, look at that photo, photo," he said, "now, now I want, want to show, show you, look at that House, house, even, even." Richie cursed.The two laughed out loud. "Tomorrow, morning, morning, morning," Bill said, as if everything had been decided. "What if it's a monster?" Richie stared into Bill's eyes. "What if your father's gun can't stop the monster, Bill? What if the monster keeps going?" "I, I, we think, think, think of another way." Bill still said the same thing. "We must, must, must think." He looked up and laughed like a madman.After a while, Richie laughed too.It was almost impossible not to laugh. 12 "Got it?" Ricky asked eagerly. At 10 o'clock the next morning the two of them rode across Kansas Avenue, which bordered Baron. The sky was gray.Richie didn't fall asleep until midnight.Dunbang looked as if he didn't sleep well last night, with dark circles under his eyes. "Got, got it." Bill patted his green hooded trench coat. "Let me see." Richie yearned very much. "Not now," Bill smiled. "Don't, someone else will see. Look, look, look what else I brought?" "Oh shit, we're in trouble." Richie said and laughed. Bill pretended to be wronged. "This, this, this is you, your idea, Do, Do, Dorje." This aluminum slingshot was Bill's birthday present the year before last.The instructions say the slingshot can be a useful hunting tool if you learn how to use it.The instructions state that "if used properly, this slingshot will be as effective and lethal as a bow and arrow or a gun".After touting so many advantages, the instructions also warn that playing with this slingshot is dangerous, just like not pointing a loaded pistol at someone else, don't point those 20 ball bullets at others. Bill isn't very good with this stuff.But he thought the warning in the instruction manual was exactly what he hoped for—the thick rubber band on the slingshot was very flexible, and shooting a soda can with it could punch a hole. "Can you use it now, Bill?" Richie asked him. "Yeah, ok," Bill said, though it wasn't true.He carefully studied the diagrams in the instructions, and practiced in Derry Park with sore arms, shooting paper targets, and he was able to hit 3 times out of 10 times, and almost hit the bull's-eye once. Richie tried the hook and returned it to Bill.I doubt if I want to kill that monster.Does this thing work like a pistol. "Ah!" said he, "you brought the slingshot, which is good enough, but that's nothing. Look what I brought, Dunban." And he took a bag of sneezing powder from his pocket. The two looked at each other for a while, then couldn't help it suddenly, laughed and shouted, and slapped each other hard on the back. "I, I, we one, one, everything is ready and ready." Bill was still giggling and wiping his eyes with his sleeve from time to time. "It's all set. Stuttering Bill," Richie said. "Here, listen. I, we'll hide, your, your, your, bicycle, in the ban, the ban. I'll take, take you on the bike, just in case I, we have to be fast, fast Withdraw, withdraw, withdraw." Richie nodded without any objection.His 22-inch bike sits like a shoo-in next to Bill's big, tall Silver Arrow.He knew Bill was bigger and the Silver Arrow was faster. Bill helps Richie hide the car under a small bridge.They sat with the occasional car rumbling overhead.Bill unzips his jacket and pulls out his dad's pistol. "You, you must be small, small, careful," Bill reminded him, "There is no pistol like this. There is no safety, safety, safety." "Is it loaded?" Richie asked, feeling a little nervous.The gun weighed heavily. "Not yet, not yet, not yet," Bill said.He patted his pockets. "I, here, here have, have, have a few bullets, bullets, bullets. But my dad, dad, dad said, said yes, sometimes you have to be very careful. For example, if you have a gun on your body, a gun , gun, gun, feel, feel that if you relax your vigilance, you will automatically load, load the bullet, and it may kill, kill, you." There was a strange smile on his face , showing that he did not believe in such a ridiculous thing at all, and that he fully believed in the possibility. Richie understands.His father's shotgun was no match for this one.This pistol seems to be specially made for killing people.Richie shuddered, realizing why people would build such things.What else can a pistol be used for?To light cigarettes? He turned the gun on himself, careful not to touch the trigger.Looking at the black muzzle, he understood Bill's mysterious smile.He handed the gun back to Bill, glad it wasn't his own. Bill hid the gun in his jacket again.Rich suddenly felt that Nabert Street was not so scary, but he had a stronger and stronger premonition that blood would be shed today. He looked at Bill, wanting to tell him this hunch again.But he carefully read Bill's expression, and only said: "Ready?" 13 As usual, the moment Bill stepped into the car, Richie felt they were going to fall to the hard concrete, their brains cracked.The big bicycle swayed from side to side, rattling like a machine gun.Rich closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. At this moment, Bill yelled: "Ha-oh, Silver Arrow, let's go!" The speed of the car increased, and finally it stopped wobbling.Richie also let go of the hand that was tightly hugging Bill's back just now, and grabbed the car above the rear wheel.Bill cut diagonally across Kansas Avenue, down a side street, and sped toward Williams Avenue.They flew across Stheimerstrasse, through Wissheimstrasse.Bill leaned one foot on the pedal and yelled again, "Ha-yo, Silver Arrow!" "Come on, boss!" Richie screamed.He was so scared that he almost peed his pants and kept laughing. "Sit on it!" Hearing this, Bill got on the seat, leaned over the handlebars, and pedaled quickly.Watching Bill's broad shoulders swing from side to side under his trench coat, Richie is suddenly convinced that they are invincible...they will live forever.Oh...probably not them, but Bill will live forever.Bill had no idea how strong, how confident, how perfect he was. They flew forward, and the houses on both sides of the road gradually became thinner.They passed through stretches of flat, endless fields.Rich saw the old train station in the distance, and warehouses made of prefabricated houses lined up on the right.The Silver Arrow jolted across the railroad tracks. Turn right onto Nabert Street.A rusty blue sign hung crookedly from the bottom of the street sign reading Derry Freight Yards.There is also a big black sign on a yellow background hanging below it, with the word "Dead Alley" written on it - just like the evaluation of the freight yard. Bill turned onto Nabert Street, slid down the sidewalk for some distance, and jumped out. "Let's go, go, go from here." Richie responded and jumped out of the car with mixed emotions: he felt comforted and a little regretful. They walked along the cracked, weed-covered sidewalk.Ahead is the freight yard.There was a sound of motors over there, and occasionally the crisp metal clang of the couplers colliding could be heard. "Are you scared?" Richie asked Bill. Bill pushed his silver arrow, glanced at Richie, and nodded. "Yes, a little bit. What about you?" "Of course I'm afraid." Richie said. Bill told Richie that he had asked his father about Nabert Street the night before.His father said there were many railroad people who lived here before the end of World War II—engineers, stewards, bachelors, freight yard workers, baggage handlers.The freight yard has declined, and the street has become deserted.Going further, the houses are rarer, more dilapidated and dirty.The three or four empty houses at the end of the street were boarded up, and the yards were overgrown with weeds.The sidewalk disappeared, and they walked on a well-trodden path. Bill stopped and pointed ahead. "Right, there, there, there," he whispered. 29 Nabert Avenue was originally a neat red Cape Cod house.Now the red paint has turned almost pink, peeling off piece by piece, like wounds.The dark windows were boarded up.Weeds grew on both sides of the house; dandelions grew on the grass.A tall wooden fence stood crookedly among the dank trees on the left.Not far from the fence there was a large bush of sunflowers—the tallest was five feet tall.The breeze blew, those sunflowers shook their heads and nodded, as if to say: Isn’t it good that these children are here?More kids, our kids.Richie shuddered. While Bill parked the car, Rich looked around the house.He saw a wheel sticking out of the thick grass near the porch and pointed it out to Bill.Bill nodded. It was the overturned tricycle that Eddie had mentioned. They looked up and down Nabert Street.The sound of motors rose and fell, like spells swirling in the air.The streets were deserted.The big sunflower is swaying again: the new boy. Good boy.our children. "Are you, are you, ready, ready?" Bill's question startled Richie. "Ugh, I just remembered that my book from the library is due today," Richie said. "Maybe I should—" "Less, less, less blah, blah, Ricky. You-are you ready or not. not good? " "I figured it out," Richie said, though he wasn't ready for it at all—he'd never know how to handle a situation like this in his life. They made their way across the overgrown grass to the porch. "Look, look there, there, there," Bill said. The lattice fence to the left of the far porch fell over a clump of trees that had once been a rosebush.Roses bloomed languidly in places not held down by the collapsed fence, while the bushes under and in front of the fence were a mass of dead branches. Bill and Rich looked at each other silently, with serious expressions.What Eddie said was true. 7 weeks have passed and there are still traces of that day. "You don't really want to get under there, do you?" Richie almost begged. "No, no, don't want to," Bill said, "but, but I want, want to..." Seeing how serious he was, Richie's heart sank.There was determination in Bill's gray eyes.His expression is so determined, so urgent, it makes him appear more mature.Richie murmured in his heart, it seemed that Bill really wanted to kill that monster if it was still here. Kill it, maybe cut off its head, take it to his daddy, and say, "Look, this is the guy who killed George. Time to talk to me now when you get home from get off work. Time to tell me how the day went." What, who loses the coin toss to decide who's going to buy morning coffee?" "Bill—" But Bill wasn't there anymore.He had circled to the right of the porch where Eddie had crawled.Richie hurried after him and almost tripped over the tricycle in the grass. He caught up to where Bill was crouching, looking under the porch.The fence on one side of the porch had been taken down by someone—some homeless man—to allow access. Rich crouched down beside him, beating a snare drum in his heart.Below the porch was nothing but rotting leaves, yellowed newspapers, and shadows.many shadows. "Bill," he called again. "What, what, what?" Bill pulled out his pistol.He carefully took out the bullet clip, took out the four bullets from his trouser pocket, and put them in one by one.Rich watched fascinated.He looked down the porch again.This time he found something new, shattered glass, shards of shattered glass that gleamed faintly.He's no dumb kid, and knowing that almost completely confirms Eddie's story.Broken glass on the rotten leaves under the porch showed that the windows had been smashed from the inside.From the cellar. "What, what's wrong?" Bill looked up at Richie and asked again.His face was serious and pale.Looking at his determined expression, Richie surrendered in his heart. "Nothing." He didn't say anything. "Are you going, going, going?" "Enter." They crawled under the porch. Richie used to love the smell of rotting leaves, but there was nothing pleasant about the smell here.The leaves are limp.It seemed to be two or three feet thick.他突然想到如果有一只手或者爪子突然从树叶下伸出来，抓住他，他该怎么办。 比尔正在观察那扇破窗户，到处都是玻璃碴。窗框都碎成两截，扔在门廊台阶下。窗框上面的一根木条伸出来，像根折断的骨头。 “被什么东西用力砸碎的。”理奇低声说。Bill nodded. 理奇也挤过来看。阴暗的地窖里堆满了筐子、盒子。地上的泥土散发着潮湿的霉味儿。左边有一个大火炉，一根管子伸向挪顶。在地窖的最里面有一个很大的隔间，是马厩。但是谁会在这里养马呢？他突然明白过来，这种老房子里，火炉烧的是煤。那东西肯定是煤仓。 最右面有一截楼梯通向地上。 比尔坐下来、躬身向前，理奇还没搞清他要干什么，比尔的脚已经伸了进去。 “比尔！看在上帝的份儿上，”理奇急了，“你要干什么？快出来！” 比尔没有回答，编身进去。“不要命啦！”看着比尔消失在黑暗中，理奇急得直抱怨。“比尔，你疯了？” 下面传来比尔的声音：“要是你愿、愿意，你、你就、就、就待在上面。在那里看、看着。” 理奇顾不得害怕，也缩身钻进地窖。不知什么东西抓住了他的腿，理奇惊叫起来。 “是、是、是我、我。”比尔压低了嗓门。理奇跳下地窖，站在比尔身边。“你以、以为是、是谁、谁？” “巨兽。”理奇勉强笑了笑，声音还颤抖着。 “你、你走、走那、那条路，路，我、我、找走、走、走——” “放屁。”理奇说。他能听见自己狂乱的心跳。“我要跟你在一起，老大。” 他们朝那个煤仓走过去。比尔举着枪，走在前头。理奇紧紧地跟在后面，不停地四处张望。比尔在煤仓的一侧站了一会儿，突然绕过去，双手举枪。理奇闭紧眼睛，等着枪响。枪声没响，他才慢慢地睁开眼睛。 “没、没、没什么，就是些煤、煤。”比尔咯咯地笑了，却很紧张。 理奇走到他身边，看到那里还有一点没有用完的煤，几乎堆到房顶。 “咱们——”理奇话音未落，楼梯顶端那扇门砰地一声撞在墙上，打开了，透进一丝光亮。 两个孩子尖叫起来。 理奇听到一阵吼声——像是困在笼中的野兽发出的曝叫。一个流浪汉走下台阶。褪色的牛仔裤上——一双手来回摆动。 那不是手，是爪子。巨大、变形的爪子。 “爬、爬、爬到煤、煤、煤堆上去！”比尔高声叫喊，但是理奇却僵在那里，一动不动，猛然意识到将要发生的一切，是什么将要把他们杀死在这阴暗、恶臭的地窖里。虽然知道了还要亲眼看看。“煤、煤堆项、顶上有一扇窗、窗、窗户！” 那双利爪上长满棕色的绒毛，像电线一样蜷在一起；指尖上长着锯齿型的指甲。理奇看见了一件丝绸上衣。黑色衣服、橘黄色滚边——德里中学的校服。 “快、快、快走！”比尔尖叫着，使劲推了理奇一把。理奇爬上煤堆，煤块的尖角戳痛了他，使他清醒过来。煤堆像雪崩一样塌落下去，耳边不断传来疯狂的咆哮。 理奇吓得魂飞魄散，几乎不知道自己在干什么。他爬上煤堆，刚直起身，又滑下去。他又尖叫着，纵身跳上去。上面的窗子被煤灰染得污黑，透不进一点光亮。理奇抓住插销，用尽全身的力气转动。但是插销丝毫末动，而那咆哮声越走越近。 身后传来一声震耳欲聋的枪声。浓烈的硝烟刺激着理奇的鼻子，使他完全清醒过来，他这才意识到刚才转动插销的方向错了。他向相反的方向用力，这次插销发出一声长长的钝响。煤灰像辣椒面一样落在他的手上。 There was another shot.比尔。邓邦高声叫道：“你杀了我弟弟，你这个混蛋！” 一会儿那个怪兽好像笑了，开口说话了——好像一只恶狗一阵狂吠，含混不清地吐出几个字：“我也要杀了你。” “理奇！”比尔高声喊他的名字。比尔爬上来，煤块哗啦哗啦地掉了下去。咆哮声、木头劈裂的声音、狗吠声、狼嚎声——所有噩梦里的声音都搅在一起。 理奇用力猛撞那扇窗户，顾不得是否玻璃会碎了，砍掉他的手。 他已经不在乎了。窗子没碎，在生满铁锈的饺链上向外弹开了。煤灰落在理奇的脸上，他像泥鳅一样敏捷地钻出地窖，闻到新鲜空气中甜甜的味道，感到长长的草叶蹭在脸上，看见向日癸那样鲜绿、粗壮。 毛茸茸的茎秆。 地窖里又传来一声枪响。那个怪兽发出一声尖叫——原始的愤怒的叫声。接着传来比尔的喊声：“它抓、抓住我了，理奇！救命！它抓、抓、抓住我了！” 理奇趴在窗口，看见比尔仰着脸，惊恐万状。 比尔横躺在煤堆上，伸着双手，费尽力气也够不到窗框。他的衬衫、外套已经卷到了胸口。他滑了下去，不，他是被一种看不见的东西拉下去的。那东西在动，在比尔身后投下臃肿的影子。一个咆哮着，像人一样会叽哩咕噜地说话的影子。 理奇不用看。上个星期六，他已经在阿拉丁剧院看过了。是个疯子，丧心病狂的疯子。 那个狼人——真的狼人——捉住了比尔。 比尔尖叫一声，理奇伸手抓住比尔。他们撕扯着争夺比尔——理奇拽住比尔的手，狼人死死地拖住比尔的脚踝。 “离、离、离开这里，理奇！”比尔高声叫道。“离、离——” 那个狼人的脸突然从黑暗中闪出来，短短的额头高高地凸着，盖着几缕头发，毛乎乎的两顿凹陷下去，深褐色的眼睛里透着可怕的精明。怪物张开嘴，发出一声吼叫，白色的泡沫顺着嘴角流下来。那怪物仰头爆叫，眼睛一直盯着理奇。 比尔爬上煤堆。理奇抓住他的胳膊，用力向上拉。就快要成功了。突然那个狼人又抓住了比尔的腿，他又被拖回无边的黑暗。 那一瞬间，理奇根本没有意识到自己所做的一切，便脱口而出内尔先生的声音。这一次理奇不是在做拙劣的模仿；那声音听起来并不十分像内尔先生，那是每一个子夜后还在巡视门户的爱尔兰巡警的声音：“放开他，小子，不然我砸烂你的狗头！我向上帝发誓！现在就松开他，不然我挖出你的狗眼！” 地窖里的怪兽发出一阵震耳欲聋的怒吼，但是理奇也听出那吼声有些不同。可能是恐惧，或者疼痛。 他使尽全身的力气，一把把比尔拉出窗户，摔倒在草地上。 “快、快、快跑！”比尔喘着粗气，几乎是在呻吟。他抓住理奇的衬衫。“我、我、我们必、必、须——” 理奇听到煤块哗啦哗啦滚落的声音。不一会儿，狼人的脸出现在窗口，冲他们嚎叫，一对利爪紧紧地抓着干枯的野草。 比尔手里还拿着那把枪。他双手端枪，眼睛眯成一道细缝，扣动了扳机。随着一声巨响，理奇看到狼人的头骨被掀开。鲜血如注，顺着它的脸淌下来，沾满毛发，浸湿了衣服的衣领。 一声吼叫，狼人开始往窗外爬。 理奇好像在梦里，慢慢地从兜里掏出喷嚏粉。趁那个血淋淋、怒吼着的怪兽费力地挤出窗口的时候，理奇把喷嚏粉抛出去。“滚回去，小子！”他学着爱尔兰警察的声音命令道。一团白雾喷在怪物的脸上。 它不再嚎叫，惊奇地盯着理奇，呛得打起喷嚏。那双红肿、混浊的眼睛冲着理奇不停地转动，好像要永远记住他。 怪物不停地打喷嚏，口水、鼻涕、眼泪一起流下来。它的脸上还有愤怒，但是毫无疑问也有痛苦。比尔可能用枪打伤了它，但是理奇使它伤得更重……开始用爱尔兰警察的声音，之后用喷嚏粉。 上帝，要是我再有点儿发痒粉，或许我就能杀了它。理奇正想着，比尔一把揪住他的衣领，把他换起来。 比尔拉得正是时候。狼人止住了喷嚏，向理奇扑了过来。那样迅猛，简直令人难以置信。若不是比尔又拽了他一把，把他拉起来，他也许还坐在那里，呆呆地看着巨兽扑过来，撕断他的喉咙。 理奇跌跌撞撞地跟在比尔后面，朝门前的大街跑去。“它不敢追过来。我们已经到街上了。它不敢追过来，不敢，不敢——。 但是怪兽还是追上来了。他听见怪物跟在后面，淌着口水，叽哩咕噜地吼着。 银箭就停在那里。比尔飞身跳上自行车，理奇纵身跳上车筐的时候，回头看了一眼。那个怪物正穿过草地走来，离他们还不到20英尺远，鲜血和着口水淌在衣襟上，右面太阳穴上露出一根白骨。鼻子上还有喷嚏粉的残迹。另外两样东西使理奇恐怖到极点。怪物的外衣上安的不是拉链，而是硕大的橘黄色绒球扣子。而且在怪兽血迹斑斑的左襟上用金线绣着理奇的名字。理奇差点昏过去，心想干脆不做抵抗，任由怪兽来杀死自己好了。 怪兽又向他们扑来。 “快走，比尔！”理奇失声尖叫。 银箭开始慢慢地启动——太慢了。比尔费了半天功夫才使它旋转起来。 比尔骑车拐上内伯特大街的时候，狼人正好穿过了那条布满车辙的小路，牛仔裤上溅满血污。理奇克制不住那可怕却又无法摆脱的诱惑，回头看见那条牛仔裤撕开了几道口子，露出一撮一撮粗糙的棕毛。 比尔用尽力气，银箭还是跑不起来。这时一只巨爪伸向理奇，他一声惨叫，躲了过去。狼人咧着嘴，咆哮着。他们离得那么近，理奇看清了它的黄眼睛，闻到它呼吸中夹带着腐肉的味道。看见它那锯齿一样的尖牙。 怪兽的巨爪又向理奇打来。理奇尖叫着，以为自己这次真的没命了——但是那一爪在耳边呼啸而过，来得那么猛，把理奇贴在前额上的汗津津的头发都掀了起来。 “哈——哟、银箭，走嘞！”比尔声嘶力竭地吆喝着。 他已经骑上了一个缓坡的坡顶，银箭终于停止了晃动，飞跑起来。比尔拼命蹬车，沿着内伯特大街，向2号路拐去。 谢天谢地，谢天谢地，谢天谢地，理奇的脑中一片混乱。谢天谢地——又响起了狠人的吼声——哦，天啊，那吼声好像就在耳边。 理奇睁开眼睛，正看见那双混浊、凶恶的眼睛。 “比尔！”理奇用力想喊出那个名字，声音却硬在喉咙里。 比尔似乎真的听到了，更加用力地蹬车。他身上所有的力量都被唤醒了。他尝到了喉咙根里血腥的味道。他的眼睛凸出，张着嘴大口大口地喘气。一种近乎疯狂的快感充溢胸中——那感觉狂野、自由、完全属于他自己。那是一种强烈的愿望。 银箭的速度越来越快。他感觉自己要飞起来了。“哈——哟，银箭！”他高声吆喝，“哈——哟，银箭，走嘞！” 理奇听见踩在碎石路上的重重的脚步声。He turned around.狼人的巨爪用尽摧毁一切的力量砸在理奇的眼眶上。那一刻，理奇觉得自己的脑袋真的要掉下来了。一切都变得模糊、不重要了。声音若有若无，色彩消失在世界之外。他倒下去，紧紧地抓住比尔。热血流进眼角，一阵刺痛。 怪兽又扬起巨爪，砸在银箭后面的挡泥板上。理奇感到车身剧烈地摇晃，差点翻倒在地，最后还是挺直了身冲了过去。比尔又叫起了“哈——哟，银箭，走嘞”！但是那吆喝声听起来像回声一样遥远。 理奇闭上眼睛，紧紧地搂住比尔，等待死神的来临。 14 比尔也听到了奔跑的脚步声，知道那个怪物还不肯罢休。但是他不敢回头去看。一旦那个怪物追上来，就会将他们碎尸万段。 加油啊，小伙子，他心里呐喊。把一切都给我！你所拥有的一切！加油，银箭！come on! 比尔感觉到自己骑得飞快，好像在和魔鬼赛跑。只不过这一次的魔鬼是一个面目狰狞的小丑。它的脸上涂满油彩，红红的嘴唇翘起来，露出吸血鬼的笑容，眼睛是明亮的银色硬币。不知什么原因，它的镶着橘红色皱边，坠着橘红色绒球大扣子的丝绸套服外面披着德里中学的校服。 银箭飞速行驶，内伯特大街的景象在他眼中模糊了。比尔还是不敢回头。理奇死死地抓住他，勒得他喘不过气来。他想告诉理奇放松点儿，却不敢松一口气。 像一个美丽的梦，前面就是内伯特大街和2号路相交的十字路口。威产姆大街上车辆来来往往。在极度的恐慌中，对于精疲力竭的比尔这一切都好像是一个奇迹。 比尔猛地刹住车，银箭划出好远一段距离才停了下来。理奇重重地撞在他的肩上。他回过头，身后的街道空空荡荡。 但是离他们万英尺远的地方，那一排荒凉的好似墓舍的房子的尽头，一个明亮的橘黄色斑点躺在路边的下水道旁。 “啊哟……” It's too late.理奇从车子上甩了出去，翻着眼睛，眼镜斜挂在鼻梁上，额头渗出鲜血。 比尔抓住他的胳膊，两人都滚到路边，银箭也翻倒在地上。比尔扭伤了脚腕，痛苦地大叫一声。理奇只眨了眨眼睛。 “我本来想带你找到那些宝藏，先生，但是那伙人实在太凶恶了。”理奇喘着粗气。但是那飘若游丝、奄奄一息的声音吓坏了比尔。 理奇的额头上粘着几根卷曲的棕毛使比尔更加恐惧。他用力拍理奇的头顶。 “呀噢！”理奇大叫一声，眼睛眨了眨，睁开了。“干吗砸我的脑袋，老大？你差点儿砸碎我的眼镜。我的眼镜已经都变形啦！” “我以、以、以为你要、要、要死、死、死了。”比尔说。 理奇慢慢地坐了起来，用手摸摸头顶，疼得哼哼叽叽的。“怎么——”突然他记起了一切，吓得瞪大了眼睛，四处乱望，大口地喘气。 “别、别、别怕，”比尔说，“它、它已经走、走、走了，理、理、理奇。它已经走了。” 理奇看了看空空如也的街道，哇地哭起来。比尔看着他，把他紧紧地抱在怀里。理奇搂着比尔的脖子，紧紧地拥抱着他，想说几句俏皮话，却一句也说不出来，只是不住地便咽。 “别、别哭，理、理奇，”比尔安慰着他，“别、别、别——”说着自己也痛哭失声。他们就那样跪在那里，紧紧地拥抱在一起，晶莹的泪水顺着粘满煤灰的脸颊淌落下来。