Needful Things: The Last Castle Rock Story
Stephen King
Language: English
Pages: 731
ISBN: 0451172817
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
YOU’VE BEEN HERE BEFORE….
A wonderful new store has opened in the little town of Castle Rock, Maine. Whatever your heart’s secret desire—sexual pleasure, wealth, power, or even more precious things—it’s for sale. And even though every item has a nerve-shattering price, the owner is always ready to make a bargain.
In this chilling novel by one of the most potent imaginations of our time, evil is on a shopping spree and out to scare you witless.
plate KEETON 1—suddenly shot out of the narrow alley which gave access to the Municipal Building’s parking lot, Alan watched, gape-mouthed, as Buster drove his Cadillac into the side of Norris’s Beetle. The Caddy wasn’t going fast, but it was roughly four times the size of Norris’s car. There was a crunch of crimping metal and the VW toppled over onto the passenger side with a hollow bang and a tinkle of glass. Alan slammed on the brakes and got out of his cruiser. Buster was getting out of his
tell me I’m wrong.” Keeton looked at him with a mixture of doubt, curiosity, and suspicion. “Why do you keep calling me Dad? I’m not old enough to be your dad.” “Well, I doubt if you ever read the underground comics, but there is this guy named R. Crumb,” Ace said. The coke was at work in him now, sparking all his nerveendings alight. “He does these comics about a guy named Zippy. And to me, you look just like Zippy’s Dad.” “Is that good?” Buster asked suspiciously. “Awesome,” Ace assured
man wins.” Frank thought: Well, why not? Just why the hell not? He hadn’t much else to live for, one way or the other, and if he did nothing else, he could show his old “friend” he wasn’t a coward. “Okay,” he said, and shoved the Llama into the waistband of his own pants. He held his hands out in front of him, hovering just above the butt of the gun. “How do you want to do it, Georgie-Porgie?” George T. Nelson was grinning. “You start down the steps,” he said. “I start up. Next time the
and his lips slowly pulled back from his large, uneven teeth. He spoke in the low, comfortable tones of one who has been his own best listener for a very long time. “I’m given to understand you’re something of a parlor prestidigitator, my uniformed friend. You like tricks. I’m going to show you a few new ones before I leave town. I’m confident they will amaze you.” He rolled his hand into a fist around Alan’s business card, first bending and then crumpling it. When it was completely hidden, a
thought it might actually be a smoking jacket, like in the Sherlock Holmes stories he had read. It was neat. “Be my guest, Brian!” Brian walked slowly over to the case nearest the door. He glanced over his shoulder, sure that Mr. Gaunt would be trailing along right behind him, but Mr. Gaunt was still standing by the door, looking at him with wry amusement. It was as if he had read Brian’s mind and had discovered how much Brian disliked having the owner of a store trailing around after him while