Chapter 33 Chapter 21 City Underground (2)

"We're fine, boss," Eddie said.But his expression was pained.The makeshift splint Bill had made for him fell apart. "How are you?" "Yeah, ok," said Bill, and extinguished the match, lest anyone should see the same look on his face. "How could this be?" Beverly asked in the dark, pulling Bill's arm. "Bill, how did she—" "Because, because, because I mentioned, mentioned the name, name of this town. She, she came, came, came, came to me, me, me. Just, when I was talking, talking, talking to her , At that time, my heart, my heart was telling, warning, telling myself no, no, don’t say, come out. But, but I didn’t, didn’t, didn’t listen, listen, listen.” He shook his head helplessly in the dark. "But even if she, she came to D, D, Derry, I don't, don't, don't know, how, how, how, would, come, come here. If no, it wasn't H, H, Henry She brought, brought, brought here, so who did, did it?"

"It," said Ben. "It could come up to her and say you're in trouble. Just grab her... kill you and destroy our courage. Because that's you, boss. Our courage." "Tom?" Beverly whispered, almost to herself. "Who?" Bill struck another match. She looked at him honestly. "Tom. My husband. He knew it too. I think I at least mentioned the town to him. I... I don't know. He was mad at me then." "God, what is all this, a soap opera that everyone's going to be in sooner or later?" Richie said. "Not a soap opera," Bill said, sounding rueful. "A show. Like a circus. Beverly left here to marry Henry Powers. Why didn't he come with her when she started here? The real Henry did come back, you know."

"No." Beverly retorted. "I didn't marry Henry. I married my father." "What difference does it make if he abuses you?" Eddie asked rhetorically. "Come, come, come with me," Bill said, "Come in, come in, get in." They go in.Bill reached out his hands, holding Eddie on the one hand, and Richie on the other. As before when all 7 people were there, quickly form a circle.Eddie felt a hand around his shoulder.It felt warm, comforting, and so familiar. Bill felt the same strength as before, but was soberly aware that things had really changed.That force was not strong at all—struggling, flickering like a candle in the wind.The darkness grew thicker, wrapping them tightly.He can smell it.Walking through this passage, he thought, not far away, there is a door with an engraved sign.What's behind the door?

I still can't remember.I remember straining my fingers because they kept shaking, and I remember pushing that door open.I even remember the light pouring out from behind the door, and it seemed alive, as if it wasn't light but glowing snakes.I remember the smell, like where the monkeys are kept at the zoo, but worse than that. And... not anymore. "You, you, you, who, who, who of you remember, what is, is, what it is?" "Don't remember," Eddie said. "I think..." Richie shook his head as soon as he opened his mouth. "Can not remember."

"I don't remember," Beverly said. "Uh-uh," Ben said, "that one I still can't remember. What it was... how we beat it." "Chud," Beverly said. "That's how we beat it. But I can't remember what that means." "Stand by me," Bill said, "I-I stand by you, you, you." "Bill," said Ben, strangely calm, "something is coming our way." Bill listened carefully.Footsteps shuffling towards them in the dark... He was afraid. "Au, Au, Audra?" he called... already knowing it wasn't her at all.The sound of dragging footsteps was getting closer.

Bill lit a match. One day in the late spring of 1985, two minutes before sunrise, a momentous event occurred.To understand how significant this matter is, one must first understand Mike.Hanlon (now lying unconscious in a bed at the Derry Family Hospital) knew two facts. Both facts relate to the Grace Baptist Church on the corner of William and Jackson Streets, which has stood there since 1897.The slender white spire at the top of the church is the model of all Protestant church steeples in New England.There are clock faces on all sides of the spire. The big clock was built in Switzerland in 1898 and shipped here all the way.

From the date of installation to May 31, 1985, the big clock was accurate, reporting every hour dutifully.On the day the ironworks factory exploded, the big clock did not strike twelve.The residents all believed that the bishop had deliberately silenced the bell to mourn the dead children.Although this was not the case, and His Excellency the Bishop never defended himself, the big clock just didn't report the time. May 31, 1985 At 5 o'clock, the big clock did not strike the bell again. At that moment, all the old people in Derry opened their eyes and sat up suddenly, feeling very disturbed for no reason.The old people are waiting.

One of them is Belt Burt.Old man Kenny is over 90 years old.He sneaked up to the window and looked at the dark cloudy sky.Last night's weather report also said it would be sunny today, but his old bones told him it was going to rain, and it was raining heavily.He felt terrified deep in his heart. "Those kids." He looked out the window and said to himself. "What are those nasty children doing? What are they doing so early in the morning?" Egbert Thorogood is 99 years old.He also woke up suddenly at that moment.Something is going to happen, he thought drowsily, trembling with fear.Something big is going to happen.

David.Gardner, who first spotted George in October 1957.The mutilated body of Dunbang, the first victim of a new wave of murders, was discovered by his son earlier this spring.He also woke up suddenly at 5 o'clock sharp.He didn't even look at the little alarm clock on the bedside table and thought: The big clock at Grace Church didn't strike five... What's the matter?He felt a deep, unspeakable fear.He got up and went to the window.The sky was full of wind and clouds.David felt even more uneasy.For the first time in so many years, he thought of the miserable cry that brought him to the porch years ago, and saw the little figure writhing and struggling in the yellow raincoat.He looked at the thick clouds and thought: Our situation is very dangerous.everyone.delhi.

Andrew believed he had done enough to solve the spate of child murders plaguing Derry.Sheriff Riedmacher was also standing on the porch of his home at this time, watching the thickening dark clouds, feeling equally anxious.Something is going to happen.Looks like it's going to rain heavily. But it's not all.He shivered... Standing on the porch, watching the first dime-sized raindrops hit the sidewalk in front of the door, and hearing the distant rumble of thunder, Riedmacher shivered again. 8 Bill held up the match...and let out a scream of despair. George was walking tremblingly down the tunnel towards him.George was still wearing the blood-stained yellow raincoat.One sleeve dangled empty to and fro.George's face was pale, and his silver eyes were fixed on Bill.

"My ship!" George's voice trembled. "I can't find my paper boat, Bill, I've looked everywhere and I can't find it. Now I'm dead, and it's your fault, your fault, your fault—" "Joe, Joe, George!" Bill's voice was sharp.He felt that he was in a daze and was about to lose his way. George staggered toward Bill, pointing at Bill with his remaining arm, showing a sharp claw. "Your fault," whispered George, grinning backwards, showing sharp canine teeth. "It's all... your... fault for letting me go out." "No, no, no, Joe, Joe, George," Bill argued aloud, "I don't, don't, don't know, know, know—" "Kill yourself!" roared George, barking like a dog.Bill could smell it, smell the rot on George.The smell of the cellar, wriggling, of a yellow-eyed monster hiding in the corner, waiting to tear some little boy's belly open. George gritted his teeth, and there was a sound like pinball balls hitting together.Yellow pus came out of his eyes and dripped down his cheeks... when the match went out. It seemed to Bill that his friends had vanished—of course they had, and he was left alone.Like his parents, they abandoned him because George was right: it was all his fault.He could feel the hand around his throat in no time, the sharp canines tearing him apart.That's right, that's fair.He sent George out to die, and wrote half a lifetime of the horror of betrayal—oh, and he put on all sorts of masks for his fear.But the monster behind all the masks is George, following the paraffin-painted paper boat into the receding flood.Now is the time for redemption. "You killed me, you deserve to die." George was right in front of him.Bill closed his eyes. There was a flash of yellow light in the tunnel, and Bill opened his eyes.Richie is holding a match. "Hit it, Bill!" Richie yelled. "For God's sake! Hit it, Bill!" What are you doing here?He looked at everyone in bewilderment.They didn't even run away.how can that be possible?How could it be possible that he did not leave him after seeing him kill George so despicably? "Hit it, Bill!" Beverly yelled. "Oh, Bill, hit it! Only you can beat it! Quick—" George was within five feet of him.Suddenly it sticks out its tongue at Bill.That tongue was covered with white fungus-like things.Bill screamed again. "Kill it, Bill!" Eddie yelled. 'That's not your brother!Kill it before it grows bigger!Kill it quickly! " George glanced at Eddie, that silvery glance, and Eddie staggered and fell backwards, as if pushed against a wall.Bill stood there in a daze, watching his brother come towards him.Seeing George again after so many years, the same George as before, oh yes.He could hear the rustle of the yellow raincoat as George came; he could hear the clink of its overshoe buckles; Yes, its feet are leaf feet.Yes, a leaf man, that's George, with a round rotting face and a torso of dead leaves. He vaguely heard Beverly's cry. (he punches) "Bill, come on, Bill—" (Smashing on a pillar, I still feel) "Let's go find my paper boat together," said George.Sticky yellow pus, false tears flow down the cheeks.It tilted its head and reached out to grab Bill.Grinning, revealing sharp canine teeth. (he saw ghosts he saw ghosts he saw) "We'll find the paper boat," said George.Bill could smell the carrion of an animal on its breath.When George opened his mouth wide, he saw that it was crawling with maggots. "Still down here, everything here floats, and we'll float too, Bill, and we'll float too—" George's fish-belly hand was on Bill's neck. (He saw ghosts, we saw ghosts, they we you saw ghosts—) George's contorted face was brought close to his neck. "—Floating—" "He punched the post!" Bill read aloud.His voice was so deep it didn't sound like his own.It dawned on Richie that Bill stuttered only when speaking in his own voice; he never stuttered when he pretended to be someone else's voice. The "George" was taken aback, flinched, and hastily covered its face with its hands. "Great!" Richie exclaimed excitedly. "You beat it, Bill! Beat it! Beat it! Beat it!" "He punched the post and still thinks he saw a ghost!" Bill's roar was like thunder.He walked over to the "George". "You're not a ghost! George knows I didn't mean to kill him! My parents were wrong! They got me wrong! Do you hear me?" That "George" squeaked like a mouse, turned and ran.The yellow raincoat seemed to be melting, turning into a bright yellow spot and fleeing in panic.It lost its shell and turned into a blur. "He punched a post, you bastard!" Bill yelled. "Still thinks he saw a ghost!" He threw himself on it, fingers hooked on the yellow raincoat that wasn't a raincoat anymore.He punched it and felt a handful of warm toffee melt between his fingers.He fell to the ground.The flickering flames burned his fingers, and Richie suddenly let out a cry.They were plunged into darkness again. Bill felt something expand in his chest, a hot, suffocating, pinprick.He hugged his knees and huddled in a ball, hoping that would stop the pain, maybe ease it up a bit.He was really thankful to the darkness, glad that others didn't see him in pain. He heard himself groaning. "George!" he called aloud. "George, I'm sorry! I never thought that any no, no, no, misfortune would happen!" There may be many things to say, but they can't say them.Lying there, choked with sobs, blindfolded with his arms, he thought of the paper boat, of the cold rain beating on the bedroom window, of the pills and the toilet paper lying on the bedside table, aching from the high fever, and most of all It was George, George, George in the yellow raincoat. "George, I'm sorry," he cried. "Sorry, sorry, yes, yes, sorry—" Then they all gathered around, his friend.No one lit a match.I don't know who helped him up.Maybe Beverly, maybe Benth, maybe Richie.They are by his side.How merciful the darkness was at that moment. It was raining heavily at 5:10.Bangor radio station weather forecasters have expressed their surprise and apologies to those who were planning to picnic and travel according to yesterday's weather forecast. Bangor was cloudy, but in Derry, only 30 miles from Bangor, it was pouring rain and the canals were swollen.But of course there won't be a flood, people think so.The water level is now four feet below the highest warning level in 1977, a year without flooding.But the rain kept falling, the sky was low and cloudy, and there were thunder and lightning. The rainwater converges into streams and rushes down from Mount Apuguer, pouring them into rain gutters and sewers. At 5:45 a.m., a transformer exploded not far from the Turek brothers' truck park.Flying metal fragments cut a high-voltage power line and fell on the roof.Although it was pouring rain at the time, the roof caught fire, and the entire parking lot was ablaze after a while. At 6:05, residents living on Merritt Street in the old Cape area felt an explosion underground. At 6:06, feces and urine suddenly spewed out of the toilets of every household on Herrett Street. In some places the explosion was so violent that it shot through the roof of the bathroom.Two unfortunate women lost their lives. At 6:19 a thunderbolt broke the Happy Bridge across the canal.Debris was thrown into the air and landed in the canal, where it was swept away by the rushing water. The wind was blowing harder and harder. At 6:30 the wind had reached 15 miles per hour. Wind gusts reached 24 mph at 6:45 a.m. 6:46 Mike.Hanlon woke up in a ward at Derry Family Hospital.It was a long time before he regained consciousness slowly - he felt that he had had a long strange dream, a strange dream - a restless dream.There seemed to be danger in the drab white room. He gradually realized that he was awake.This drab white room is the hospital.There are glass bottles hanging above the head, one bottle is a transparent liquid, and the other bottle is a deep red liquid.blood. Only then did he hear the sound of rain hitting the glass window. Mike tried to move his legs.One can still move freely, but the right leg cannot move and has no feeling at all.Only then did he realize that his right leg was wrapped in a bandage. He recalled slowly: he was sitting down to jot something down in his notebook, and suddenly Henry Powers appeared in front of him.Wrestling, and—Henry!Where did Henry go?Did you go to someone else? Mike reached for the call bell hanging over the bed.Suddenly the door opened and a nurse stood there.His white coat had two buttons undone, his black hair was tousled, and around his neck was the Order of St. Christopher.Although Mike was not fully awake yet, he immediately recognized the nurse in front of him. "Mark?" he said weakly. "I have something to tell you." "Hush—" Mark signaled him to be quiet, his hands still in his pockets. "Don't talk." He went into the room and stood at the foot of the bed.Mike felt a wave of hopeless terror.Mark's eyes were so empty.The head is tilted slightly, as if listening to music in the distance.He took an injection out of his pocket. "This one will give you a good night's sleep." Mark said, walking towards the bed. 9 "Hush," Bill cried suddenly, though there was silence save for the sound of their footsteps. Richie lit a match.The walls of the tunnel have disappeared, and the five of them seem so small in this space under the city.They huddled together, looking at the huge stone-paved floor and the high-hanging spider webs, and Beverly felt a sense of déjà vu.They were so close, they became one. "Hear what?" she asked Bill, looking around alertly, expecting something startling to jump or fly out of the darkness.But there was nothing—just the smell of dust in the dark, and the roar of running water in the distance. "Out, out, out, out," Bill said. "Mike—" "Mike?" Eddie asked eagerly. "What happened to Mike?" "I feel it too," Ben said. "Is it... Bill, is he dead?" "No." Bill's eyes were cloudy, distant, impassive--but his tone, his defensive posture betrayed panic. "He...he, he, he..." He swallowed hard.Eyes wide open "Oh. Oh no!" "Bill" Beverly panicked. "Bill, what's the matter? How—" "Pull, pull, pull hands, hands!" cried Bill. "Hurry up!" Rich dropped the match and grabbed Bill's hand, Beverly took his other.She held out her other hand, and Eddie took his severed hand with difficulty.Benth tightened his other hand, and Richie with the other, forming the circle. "Bring him our strength!" cried Bill again in that strange, deep voice. "Bring him our strength, whoever you are, bring our strength to him! Now! Now! Now!" Beverly felt a force fly from them to Mike. 10 "Come on," Mark whispered, sighing. Mike rang the bell over and over again, and he heard the bell for the nurses' room at the end of the hall, but no one came.He knew the nurses were sitting there, reading the morning paper, drinking coffee, hearing the bell and ignoring it.He knew they wouldn't move until the bell had rung.This is the custom in Delhi.Some things in Derry are best turned a blind eye and turned a deaf ear...until it's all over. Mike dropped the call bell. Mark leaned forward, the needle gleaming.The St Christopher's Order dangled across his chest as he lifted the sheet. "Right here," he whispered. "Sternum." Sighed again. Mike suddenly felt a force pouring into his body - a primal force, like lightning through the body.He stiffened, spreading his fingers as if convulsively, his eyes widening. He groaned violently, shaking off the terrible numbness. His right hand reached out to the small table by the bed, and grabbed the large glass bottle on the table.Mark felt that something was wrong, and the dream-like joy in his eyes suddenly disappeared, revealing confusion and alertness.He stepped back as Mike lifted the glass bottle and slammed it into his face. Mark screamed and stepped back, the needle falling to the ground.He covered his face with his hands, blood trickled down his wrists and dripped onto his white coat. That power suddenly disappeared.Mike stared blankly at the broken glass on the bed, the cut hand, and heard the footsteps of the nurse rushing towards him. Now here they are, he thought, oh yes, now.Who will show up when they're gone?Who will be next? When the nurses came running in, Mike closed his eyes and prayed that it was over; that his friends who were fighting somewhere underground were safe; that they would end this nightmare. He didn't know who he was praying to...but he kept praying. "He's okay, okay, okay, okay." Bill breathed a sigh of relief. Ben wondered how long they stood hand in hand in the dark.He felt a force flying out of their midst, out of their circle, and back again.But he didn't know where that force went or what it did. "Are you sure, Bill?" Richie asked. "Yes, yes, yes." Bill let go of his and Beverly's hands. "But we have to. We have to do this as soon as possible. Go, go." They move on.Richie and Bill took turns lighting matches.We don't even have a toy gun, Ben thought.But that's supposed to be part of the event, too, isn't it? What does Chhd mean?What exactly is it?What does it really look like?Even if we didn't kill it, we wounded it.How did we hurt it? The house they walked through—it was no longer authentic—had grown larger and echoed with their footsteps.Ben remembered the smell, the pungent smell of a zoo.He realized that there was no need for matches at all—there was light, a light.The dreadful light grew brighter.Under the lights, his friends looked like walking corpses. "Go ahead, Bill," Eddie said. "I know, know, know." Ben felt his heart racing, a sour taste in his mouth, and a headache. He felt sluggish, terrified, fat and bloated. "That door," Beverly whispered. Yes, there is a door there. Twenty-seven years ago, they could walk through it just by bowing their heads. Now they have to bend over, or crawl over.They have grown up. A yellow-green light shone through the crack under the door.The distorted beam of light pierced the keyhole like a sharp sword. There was a sign on the door, and they saw various images again.Bill saw Audra's head cut off and stared at him blankly, reproachfully; Eddie saw the sign of the poison—a human head on two crossed bones.Rich saw Paul Lo Banyan's unshaven, rotting face, squinting like a killer.Ben sees Henry Powers. "Bill, do we have enough strength?" he asked. "Can we make it?" "I don't, don't, know, know," Bill said. "What if the door is locked?" Beverly said in a low voice.Tom is laughing at her. "No, it won't," Bill said. "This way, Fang Cong, never lock, lock, lock." He gently pushed the door open - had to bend down.Yellow-green, sickening light poured out.The smell of the zoo hits my face.The smell of the past has become the present, so strong. Bill looked at everyone and crawled over.Beverly followed, then Rich and Eddie.Bansi walked last, and his body touched the ancient coarse sand on the ground again.He drilled through the entrance and saw the strange snake-like flame crawling on the water-seeping wall, and all the memories came back to his mind. He yelled, stepped back a few steps, grabbed his scalp with one hand, and immediately understood.No wonder Stanley committed suicide!Oh God, I wish I could kill myself too!He saw the same shock, fear, and disillusionment on the faces of the others as the last door locked behind him. Beverly screamed and clung to Bill as it—a dreadful spider from far beyond time and space—felt down the flimsy web. No, Bill thought calmly, not a spider, certainly not, but this apparition is not an image it conjures up from our consciousness; it's just the closest image we have of it. (dead light) whatever it is. It was black all over, and it was about a foot high.Each leg is as thick as a bodybuilder's thigh.Those evil eyes were set like shining gems in the dripping eye sockets.The jagged lower waist opened and closed, and streams of foam flowed out.Already paralyzed with fright, Ben noticed very calmly that the bubbles were alive.It dripped on the stinking stone floor, like a real animal desperately burrowing into the cracks in the ground. But it is something else, has one final form, another look.But I don't want to see it, God please don't let me see it... It doesn't matter, does it?They are facing everything in front of them.Suddenly Bens understood that it was bound in this final form, this spider's body.Whether they live or die depends on whether they can defeat this one in front of them. The creature was screaming and whimpering, and Bane was sure he heard it make that sound twice—in his consciousness, and a moment later, right next to his ear.Telepathy, he thought, I read its mind.Its squat shadow flitted across the walls of its cave.Its body was covered in rough down, and Ben knew the pungent smell of it would make one swoon.A clear liquid is secreted from the end of the body.Ben noticed that the liquid was alive; like its saliva, the venom twisted and burrowed into the ground.The pungent smell it gave off, yes... but its belly was so big that it almost dragged on the ground, and it walked shaky.It made a beeline for their leader, Bill. That's its egg sac, Ben thought.This discovery made his consciousness scream.However kaleidoscopic it was, there was absolutely nothing wrong with this salient feature: it was female, and she was pregnant...and then she was, but none of us knew it except Stanley.Oh God, it must be Stanley, Stanley, not Mike.Stanley knew, Stanley told us... so no matter what, we had to come back.Because it's a female with an unimaginable offspring... its life has come to an end. Incredibly, Bill took a step forward and faced it. "Bill, don't!" Beverly exclaimed. "Swipe, dodge, dodge, dodge!" Bill said loudly without looking back.At this moment Richie called his name and ran towards him, and Ben also moved.He felt as if a phantom of a belly dangled before his eyes.Had to be a child again, only then I wouldn't be driven mad by it.Had to be a child again... had to accept that fact. As Ben ran, calling Bill's name, he vaguely felt Eddie beside him, the severed arm swinging back and forth.Eddie had drawn his asthma spray like a strange pistol. Ben heard Bill scream angrily, "Kill, kill, kill my brother, you, you, you bitch!" Then it jumped up and rushed towards Bill.Bill's whole being was buried in its shadow.Its feet are waving in the air.Ben heard its eager cry, stared at its deep, evil red eyes... At that moment, he really saw the true face behind this body: saw the light, saw the endless, furry things made of light crawling.Nothing but orange light, the light of death mocking life. The ritual began again.