CHAPTER ELEVEN
I backed my car into a cop car the other day
Well he just drove off sometimes life's okay
I ran my mouth off a bit too much what did I say?
Well you just laughed it off it was all okay.
And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on anyway
Well-
It continued to run through my head, winding and chewing like a rat that just wouldn't go away. I had liked that song before; I had enjoyed listening to "Float On." But it had taken on a nightmarish quality, and I doubted that I would ever listen to it again without thinking about the sewers.
A fake Jamaican took every last dime with that scam
It was worth it just to learn some slight-of-hand
Bad news comes don't you worry even when it lands
Good news will work its way through all them plans
We both got fired on exactly the same day
Well we'll float on good news is on the way
And indeed, I did feel lightheaded, and I could feel myself separating, ready to zoom back to my own time at any moment. I felt mildly high, nearly drugged. I felt as though I were floating inside of my own body, maybe slowly drifting out of body, if you could dig it.
I had to start asking for matches to be lit, even when Eddie wasn't using them. Our supply grew shorter.
And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on alright!
Already we'll all float on now don't you worry we'll all float on alright already we'll all float on alright don't worry we'll all float on..
I was getting more and more tired, and it wasn't just me. While it was true that there was an addition to the group since they'd last been here (me), there were now two less. We struggled to keep moving, and our energy level slowly went down, as though there was a leak somewhere.
The music in my head had reach an ominous plateau, and I felt an association that was only halfway connected with the music.
"Something's wrong," I said. I had since had an arrow strung on my bow, but now I raised it, even drew it back a little, ready to shoot. Beverly, maybe acting more off of my nervousness, held her slingshot to eye level.
There was a shadow that passed on the wall on my right. I swung around, but it was already gone.
Alright already and we'll all float on alright already we'll all float on alright don't worry even if things end up a bit too heavy we'll all float on alright already we'll all float on alright already we'll all float on okay don't worry we'll all float on even if things get heavy we'll all float on
The intensity of the words hit me in several different ways, and I was driven to one knee. My eyes closed of their own accord. From behind closed eyelids, I saw a flash of
(Deadlight)
light, and when I opened my eyes, I saw that Eddie was gone.
"Well fuck this shit," Ben said, shaking his head. "We are so fucking screwed now."
"W-We'll be okay," Bill said. "We j-j-juh-"
I watched him trying to force his words out, not pityingly, not worried. Just stoic. I stared and watched, and I didn't really understand just how bad our situation was.
"Just need to p-pull together," Bill finished.
"We can't do that," Stan said, both reasonable and terrified. "We're almost down by half."
"We c-can," Bill said. "We have t-to. It's going to k-k-keep coming…"
And we'll all float on
We'll all float on…
Beverly suddenly shot one of her shots a few feet over Stan's head. The silver slug crashed into the back wall, and I heard sections of stone shattering. I drew up my bow, but whatever she'd been shooting at was already gone. I looked over to her questioningly.
"I saw It," she said. "One of It's faces, at least."
"Did you get it?" Stan asked shakily.
"No," she replied.
"Where'd Ben go?" I asked, bewildered, looking around. He had, indeed, disappeared.
"D-Dammit!" Bill hissed through clenched teeth. "It w-was a d-d-diversion."
"Yup," I replied. My voice shook slightly.
"I sh-sh-should've seen th-this coming," Bill moaned, pacing back and forth. "I sh-should've s-s-s-stopped-"
"Shhh…" Beverly whispered. "It's okay Bill," she said, quietly, soothingly. "We came down, we knew we wouldn't get back up… we already accepted the risks…the consequences…we were expecting this. We knew this would happen. It's alright."
"I d-d-d-didn't r-r-really th-think-"
"It's okay man," Stan said. "It's alright." Somehow, Stan's reassurance seemed to calm Bill more then Beverly's had. Maybe because he knew that if Stan was okay with it, then maybe it really was all right.
There were a few minutes of silence. The light in the next room twisted and writhed, and never faded. Bill had turned to face the wall, regaining his composure. Stan looked at the ground, thinking his own thoughts. The Deadlights continued to dance and wave across the shallow water's surface. Beverly, however, stared directly into the next room, strait into the Deadlights. I noticed this only when Stan quietly said something to her; his specific words were masked by a drain opening somewhere nearby, sending a nice little shower of crap down. Stan was shaking his head, glancing once towards the lights. His gaze, too, caught for a second, but returned to the ground. Beverly nodded, and shifted her gaze down, too.
"We nuh-need to get moving," Bill said, turning to face us again. "If we c-can make it to It's l-lair, then I th-think we might stand a chance."
I turned and shot off an arrow as I saw movement towards Beverly. The arrow hit its target: a rat. Just a rat.
"Careful with your ammo supply," Beverly said. She said it slowly, disconnected. I doubted she was thinking about what she said.
I felt some of the numbness that she was feeling. We were stuck, and being slowly torn apart.
"Do you know which way to go?" Stan asked Bill.
Bill opened his mouth, almost certainly to say no. A possible reality flashed by in my mind: wandering, becoming more and more scared, one of us, almost certainly Stan, finally snapping. Going crazy. Stan, reaching far, could only just accept being in the sewers to begin with, but being lost, being in the dark…well…there wasn't really anything he could do about that. I quickly sent a thought to Bill's mind:
'Say yes,' I said. 'Even if you have to lie. Say yes. Stan can't just wander. He'll go crazy.'
"Y-Yes," Bill said. He didn't respond to my thought, not aloud, not in my mind. Maybe he understood, or had a similar vision of a possible outcome to his saying "no."
I could tell that Stan didn't believe him, not at first. But Bill smiled a reassuring smile that could just be glimpsed in this light. Stan's disbelief gave way to an uneasy acceptance. Maybe he understood that Bill was lying to him on some level, but he would rather let it go then think about it.
"Th-This way," Bill said, and walked confidently down a random path. Beverly walked next to him, holding her slingshot up. Stan trekked close behind the pair, and I trailed in the back, back a little bit, leaving myself room to whip around without slashing anyone with the arrow's point. My focus remained, mostly, to the front, watching Bill walk. Although he really didn't have any idea where we were, his strides were confident and sure, reflecting Bill himself.
I glanced over the others and licked my lips nervously, wondering who would be taken next: Stan or Beverly, or maybe me. It seemed to go without saying (at least, in my own mind) that Bill would be one of the last or the last one to get out, or the last one around for the confrontation. To even think about Beverly or I to try to take it down—madness! Stan wasn't any better; in fact, he would have been the worst pick. But Bill, well, he'd done it before. If Bill were taken, then all hope would have been lost. We would have sat quietly and awaited our deaths.
At first, as we walked, I focused sharply on my surroundings, my eyes straining against the darkness, searching for movement or traps. But when nothing happened for ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, I started to relax. Although I was not at all fully relaxed, I was a bit, far too much for something of the magnitude of what we were avoiding. My mind actually began to wander. I snapped back, quickly and fully, into the focused-aware state, but that gradually fell back into the drowsy-relaxed feeling. Instead of letting my mind wander, I sent it off, letting it transcend above the sewers.
I watched, as though from a third eye, the streets of Derry, still coated in black and death that could only leave if It died. My two physical eyes watched the sewers, although their focus really weren't as sharp as they should have been, they did watch, and I could still pull myself back in a heartbeat. My third eye watched, but its vision was projected inside of my mind, as though I were seeing it as a memory.
I brought my third eye back, and then had it seek out Eddie. While I was deeply concerned with each of their disappearances, it really was Eddie we needed now. We were getting more and more lost, and the sooner we could get out of it, the better.
I searched, but instead of Eddie, I found It.
Its shape was shifting, blurred against my mind. I was glad; if I'd seen It as it really was, then I think I may have gone insane.
I frowned, wondering why my vision was not moving from Its rapidly shifting body, why it was not searching out Eddie or any of the others.
I closed it off, shook my head, trying to clear it out. I glanced up to ascertain that the others were okay (but wouldn't I have seen if something was wrong?), and saw that Stan was trembling minutely, and that Beverly seemed even more on edge. I wondered if they'd felt my mind accidentally brush with It's mind.
I tried again, feeling some part of me leave to seek Eddie out. It was like setting up a camera in a hidden spot, and I could watch from where I was what was going on elsewhere. This time, I hit.
This time, I found the Deadlights.