"So where are we going now, Big Bill?" I asked as we reached the road where our bikes laid. I helped Mike put some of the packaged meat back into the basket on his bike.

"I don't know. Where do you guys w-w-want to go." Bill asked, picking up Silver.

"I could go for some ice cream. I think there's 4th of July celebrations going on in the park off Centre Street." Eddie said, hopping onto his bike. I walked over to Bill and took my usual place behind him on the high plastic seat.

"I need to go there, anway. To the butcher." Mike said, looking at the meat.

"Yeah, w-we can stop by there if you want." Bill replied. Mike nodded.

"Surely shout me a cone, Eddie." I said, bracing myself for Bill to start pedalling.

"Get one yourself." Eddie replied.

"Oh, did you say that you will? Ah, you're the best Eds." I laughed. Everyone was looking to Bill, waiting for him to start moving so they could follow, but his eyes were glued on Beverly. I turned to the bright haired girl to see her staring at a poster pole on the side of the road with wide eyes.

"What is it Beverly?" Ben asked, noticing her unusual state.

She tore her eyes away from the pole and back to us, but then brought it back to whatever had stolen her attention. "Guys, I think you should come look at this."

The boys rushed to get off their bikes and take a look at what she was looking at. I followed suit, but hesitantly. There was a feeling in my stomach that told me that whatever it was, it wasn't good.

I stood behind Eddie, him being the only boy short enough that I could see over, and felt the colour drain out of my face as I took in the missing person poster.

POLICE DEPARTMENT

CITY OF DERRY

MISSING

PATRICK HOCKSTETTER

17 YEARS OLD

DESCRIPTION: Date of Birth: February 4, 1972, Male, Height: 71 inches

Weight: 145lbs, Dark Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, Wearing Shirt of Yellow Colour

and Picture of Cat, Long Johns Burgundy Boots

"Thank goodness. That guy was a pain in the..." Eddie trailed off as he remembered the relationship between Patrick and I and quickly stumbled on his words. "Shit, uh, I didn't mean, Lara I'm.."

All eyes turned to me and suddenly I wanted to bury myself in a ditch and cry until the earth swallowed me whole. There was nothing I hated more than pity, so I wiped my face clear of any emotion while my friends looked at me sympathetically.

"Lara, are you-" Richie started.

"Let's go. Don't want to miss out on the celebrations now, do we?" I said, turning away and fighting the urge to break down. There must have been a mistake. Patrick wasn't missing, he was just...

I pushed all thoughts of Patrick away from my mind as I walked back towards Bill's bike and waited for the others expectantly. Exchanging worried and unsure glances, they said nothing as they mounted their bikes once again. They knew I didn't want to talk about it and I appreciated them for not pushing it further.

As we made our way towards Centre Street, not even Bill's reckless riding could keep away the thoughts that loomed dangerously in the back of my mind.

Patrick was missing. His mum hadn't seen him, his friends hadn't seen him, and the last time I had seen him was almost three days ago. Did whatever the cause of all the other missing kids get him too? No, no I had seen him last night at Richie's. But then again, something had seemed not quite right. Whoever I had seen wore Patrick's skin and face, but somehow didn't feel like Patrick at all.

Where are you?

I closed my eyes and leaned into Bill's back, trying to calm myself down. Patrick wasn't missing, it was just all a big misunderstanding. Like his mum said, he likes to do his own thing. Maybe Derry was starting to bore him and he went out of town for a couple of days. I prayed that this theory was true, but my instincts screamed at me that something was wrong.

"Lara, are you o-o-okay?" Bill asked softly, and I shook my head. I wasn't going to deny it; I wasn't okay, I was freaking the fuck out. "Maybe if.... maybe when we find G-G-Georgie, we might find Patrick too."

"Yeah, maybe." I replied, feeling a tiny bit better even though the thought of something bad having happened to Patrick made me sick to the stomach.

Bill pulled over at the ice cream shop, the rest of the Losers in tow. Eddie passed me his bike after I got off Bill's and headed into the ice cream shop. If he didn't come out with a cone for me, I was gonna kick his ass all the way to the Paul Bunyan Statue and let him dangle from the axe until he promised to buy me ice cream every day for the rest of his life.

Centre Street was alive with 4th of July celebrations. Bands were marching down the street while families stood by holding hot dogs and buttered corn on the cob. The Losers turned into an alleyway to sit and wait for Eddie to come back, while Richie ran off to harass one of the baritone players. I watched in amusement as he took the large instrument from the unsuspecting man and started blowing, his cheeks puffing out and forehead turning red as he created a sound very alike to a wet fart.

"They said they found part of his hand all chewed up near the standpipe." I heard Stan say from behind me. I turned to see what everyone was looking at. In between all the Independence Day posters and advertisements, an all too familiar missing person poster was taped to the brick wall. It showed a face of a boy around our age, but this time it wasn't Patrick. Edward Corcoran, it read. I recognised him from school.

"He asked to borrow a pencil once." Ben said softly. I couldn't help but feel slight resentment at my friends who were showing more remorse for the loss of a person they barely knew over Patrick. I couldn't blame then, though. He'd made their lives hell for who knows how long.

Bill reached his hand out and lifted the white piece of paper, revealing Betty Ripsom's missing poster underneath. I could see another piece of paper underneath it again, and I knew it was the painting advertisement I had stuck on the wall a few weeks ago.

"It's like she's been f-f-forgotten because Corcoran's missing." Bill said, taking his hand away and letting Eddie's face flip back down.

"Is it ever gonna end?" Stan asked, his eyes glued to the poster.

"What the fuck dude?" Richie said from behind me. I turned to see the highly pissed-off-looking band player back in possession of his instrument. Richie flipped him off before making his way over to us.

"What are you guys talking about?" Eddie asked, appearing out of nowhere and holding three ice cream cones, the middle one balancing dangerously between the other two.

"What they always talk about." Richie replied, taking the middle cone. Eddie held the other one out to me and I accepted it with a large grin. "You're the best."

"I actually think it will end, for a little while, at least." Ben said and we all turned to look at him. I took a lick of the vanilla ice cream and sighed at how good it tasted.

"What do you mean?" Beverly asked. His face turned pink at her attention.

"So I was going over all my Derry research, and I charted out all the big events; the Ironworks explosion in 1908, the Bradley Gang in '35, and The Black Spot in '62, and now kids being..." Ben took a brief glance at Bill and a deep breath before continuing. "I realised that this stuff seems to happen every-"

"Twenty-seven years." Bill finished. I almost applauded him for those great math skills. Everyone looked at each other with wide eyes, the realisation that something greater might be at work slowly sinking in.

"Why don't we go to the park and talk about this. I'm starting to get a headache from the smell of garbage." I suggested, pointing my thumb to the large dumpsters behind us. Everyone nodded in agreement and pushed our bikes towards the Centre Street Park where families were already spread out and clowns were performing on a pop-up stage.

Stan, Beverly, Mike and I took a seat on the park bench while the rest of the boys leaned against their bikes.

"Okay so let me get this straight. It comes out from wherever to eat kids for like a year, and then what? It just goes into hibernation?" Eddie asked.

"Maybe it's like... What do you call it? Cicadas." Stan said, his feet planted on the seat while he sat on the back. "You know, the bugs that come out once every seventeen years."

"My grandfather thinks this town is cursed." Mike said. All eyes snapped towards him. He hadn't spoken much in the short time he'd become friends with us, and we were surprised to hear something come out of his mouth. "He says that all the bad things that happen in this town are because of one thing. An evil thing that feeds off the people of Derry." he continued.

"But it can't be one thing. We all saw something different." Stan cut in.

Mike shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe it knows what scares us most and that's what we see."

"I-I saw a leper. It was like a walking infection." Eddie said, a shudder rolling through his body.

"But you didn't. Because it isn't real." Stan said. "None of it is. Not Eddie's leper, or Bill seeing Georgie, or the woman that I keep seeing-"

"Is she hot?" Richie asked and I rolled my eyes.

Stan paused and gave him an exasperated look. "No Richie, she's not hot! Her face is all... messed up. Look, none of this makes any sense. They're all like bad dreams."

"I don't think so. I know the difference between a bad dream and real life, okay?" Mike said.

"It felt too real." I agreed.

"What did you see? You guys saw something too?" Eddie asked, and Mike and I looked at each other while nodding. I gave him a tilt of the head, silently telling him to go first.

"You guys know that burnt down house on Harris Avenue?" Mike asked and everyone nodded except for me and Ben. "I was inside when it burnt down... Before I was rescued, my mum and dad were in the next room over from me. They were pushing and pounding on the door, trying to get to me... But it was too hot. When the firemen finally found them, the skin on their hands had melted down to the bone." I shook my head, trying to get the image out of my head.

"What did you see, L-Lara?" Bill asked.

I swallowed before answering. "Patrick." I said softly, not wanting to elaborate.

"We're all afraid of something." Mike added. I looked at the ground darkly.

"You got that right." Richie said, pushing his glasses up.

"Why Rich? What are you afraid of?" Eddie asked. Everyone leaned in, curious to hear his answer. Richie turned around to the pop-up stage where the clowns were performing. One of them, wearing a red and pink striped jumpsuit, extended a fairy floss cone to the kids watching him. Richie shuddered, before turning back to us and speaking.

"Clowns."

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