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IT SEEMED, the losers came to the realisation that Stan had vanished into thin air far too late. They hadn't thought of using walkie-talkies, and now, he was gone. Poof. Romy swallowed nervously, as they recollected themselves. Whatever they were, Bill's words were empty to her — this thing, this IT, whatever it was, could be in the sewers right now. It could be petrifying Stan to death, as he wandered the sewers alone.
Her stomach may as well have been sitting on the other side of the world, having sunk so far. She was sure, one more push from teetering on the edge, and she'd be spewing her guts out in the tunnel. Bill's torch moved in a figure eight, and Romy wasn't far behind. She certainly wasn't walking at the back of the pack, that was for certain.
She imagined him cold and shaking and it made her so unimaginably upset that she didn't quite know what to do with herself. Her feet were chilly and curled up inside her sneakers as they sloshed through the greywater. She could hear Eddie retching behind her as he struggled to hold his last meal down.
He's just lost, she assured herself, he'a smart. He'll probably know what to do.
"Stan?" She called out with hope, her voice carrying down the tunnel airily.
What if he finds a way out? Turns up in the Barrens? What if they got lost down in the sewers forever? Her face on a missing poster, her face in black and white (which was pretty accurate as for now — yes, her hair was always dark, but her skin wasn't always as alabaster pale as this).
"Yeugh," she exclaimed, raising her arm up towards her face as they trod through the dirty water, "I'm gonna barf."
It was sickening. They turned a corner (the first vertex in forever), echoing the occasional call for their friend.
He hadn't even wanted to come down here, she thought painstakingly to herself, he probably wanted to stay at his home and play with that yo-yo. And he had wanted to do that. He wanted to show Romy the new television channels and prove to her that he was interesting like the other boys were.
All Romy could think of was her death. She wanted Stan to appear. She wanted to cry. She wanted her aunt. She wanted her mom. Don't cry, she rehearsed to herself, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. She held it all in as best as she could. Rattling in another breath, she turned another corner behind Bill. Why was he so steady? How was he feeling? How was Ben? How was Eddie?
She glanced around. Eddie walked with Richie, trudging gloomily through the water, both with downcast eyes.
