By Stephen King
Ça peut prendre los angeles forme d’un loup-garou, d’une momie, de sangsues meurtrières. Ou devenir un clown maléfique muni de crocs et de griffes. Ça puise dans les peurs de l’enfance pour attirer et dévorer ses victimes. Et tous les vingt-sept ans, il revient à Derby, petite ville du Maine. Un groupe de six garçons et une fille, le « membership des Ratés », y fera face une première fois. Puis une seconde, alors que les membres du groupe auront basculé depuis longtemps dans l’âge adulte. Ça est le chef-d’oeuvre de Stephen King, grand maître du fantastique contemporain. Un roman qu’on ne lâche plus, une fois commencé, tant l’immersion est profonde. Une intrigue complexe qui ne connaît aucun temps mort, une plongée dans le monde de l’enfance, ses douleurs et surtout ses peurs, une stress permanente. Tout y est précis, enchanteur, effrayant, magnifié par los angeles plume du maître. Ça déménage, c’est le moins qu’on puisse dire.
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Additional info for Ça
No dialling tone, just a total silence. When the house had been emptied the telephone had been disconnected! Sheer primordial rage engulfed her. She gripped the plastic-coated object with both hands, snapped it in half so easily that it might have been rotten. One half fell, bounced on the bare floor, the other swung on its flex, mocking her. She caught it, pulled, tore it from its connection, then grabbed the squat remainder, not knowing what it was, not understanding, only that it was an alien that had to be destroyed.
He might have been blind. It was amazing, frightening, how her strength had not waned. If anything she felt stronger, fitter, except for the smarting of her flesh and that constant thumping headache. ) she had weakened, felt abominably ill, but now that sensation had passed. She refrained from looking down at herself, didn't want to know; it was as if she had been given another body, a strong coarse squat butch frame. A sex change? God, she'd never look at herself again. Hurry, your mind could go again at any second and then you'll be lost!
And then her smarting burning flesh went cold. 'The . . Russians' He nodded, closed his eyes momentarily, reminded Jackie of a drowsy bird of prey. 'Somehow. . they've done . . 'His breath rasped in his throat. 'Not ... the bomb ... we wouldn't be here now if it was. Something . . else . . don't know . . ' Fighting for air, wheezing, holding hard on to that table. 'We're all going to ... ' The shock to her system blanked her out again and she moved away, walking unsteadily across the flagged floor, her footsteps echoing.
Ça by Stephen King