Twenty-Five
The factory walls shook and the catwalk clattered beneath the stomping boots and pumping fists of her team. Their hoots and cheers swallowed the small space so that Twelve's furious demands—Who did it? Who wrote that?!—were drowned in waves of noise and triumph. She shook angrily and her heart hammered as she tried again and again to demand an answer, but the men and women that surrounded her were too enthralled and excited to notice her rage. And she was too infuriated to notice Lucas climbing across her wreckage until his hand hooked beneath her arm and he was pulling her back to the breakroom.
"Who did it?" she demanded as the steel door closed on the clamor of the factory.
Dustin, Scott and Lucas exchanged glances. "We don't know," Lucas admitted.
"I had five guys pushing out the reaper statues," Dustin added. "I can talk to them, but I don't think this was meant to upset you."
"How?" Twelve asked, rounding on him. "We're not even one day into my leadership and my soldiers are already defying part of the mission."
"That's not exactly true," Lucas replied. "They don't have your orders yet. They know that Eleven and Jonathan are heading a Demogorgon army in the Vale and that we might have to confront them in order to access the gateway, but that's the extent of their knowledge. The briefing I gave last night was impersonal information. It was data, Nancy." He chewed his bottom lip and stared at the door as the noise on the other side slowly subsided. "You're leading this mission, so you should be the one to give the order for Jonathan's arrest."
"Whoever put together that dummy," Dustin added, "was probably assuming that part of the mission was to take out Jonathan. This was an act of support, not defiance."
Twelve let out her breath slowly and wiped the sweat from her arms with short swipes. She swept up her hair, feeling the wetness at the nape of her neck and knotted her braid a little higher to let the sweat dry. Grabbing her jacket and pulling it back on, she said, "I need to talk to them." She met Lucas and Dustin's eyes in turn before adding, "Now."
The courtyard had ample space for everyone and they filed out of the factory, filling the slushy square. An extra picnic table, warped from time and weather, was dragged from the corner of the yard to the center and Twelve stood on top, her feet planted across the wavy boards. She looked out over her team—one-hundred experienced soldiers and trained professionals—and reminded herself that she was in charge. At the front of the group stood Dustin and Lucas. Twelve returned a tight nod from Lucas and cleared her throat loudly. At once the low rumble of voices ceased and a hundred faces pointed up at her.
"Thank you for coming here today," she said. "And thank you for your sacrifices. Not just the sacrifices you're making by accepting this dangerous mission, but also for the sacrifices you've already made by pledging yourselves to the Resistance." She scanned the crowd before continuing. "I know that Lucas Sinclair already discussed the mission with you last night, so I'll make this brief. Our goal is to destroy the gateway that is located in Hawkins, Indiana, in the Vale. That is our only goal. And we will do whatever it takes to complete that goal." She paused to allow a quick cheer. "There is an organized group of Demogorgons inside of the Vale. I know this because I've seen it and I've met their leader. And I hope that we don't meet them again when we reenter the Vale tomorrow, but if we do…" she raised her voice over the murmur of agitation. "If we do, then we will fight. Because, no matter what, we have a job to do and that gateway must be destroyed!" Another round of cheers erupted. "But if we do fight, then your fight is with the reapers. Their leader, a young woman named Eleven, is stronger than any of us combined. You will avoid confronting her at all costs. Do you understand?" A general sound of consent rose from the crowd. "She will be taken out by me and Sinclair, using a specialized weapon designed specifically for her."
"What about Byers?" a voice cried out from the crowd.
Twelve pressed her lips together and propped her hands on her hips. Out of the corner of her eye she detected a slight movement and spotted Lonnie standing at the corner of the factory, leaning against the brick wall and watching silently. He had dark rings around his eyes and bore the same lost expression as Joyce.
Turning away from him, Twelve announced, "Jonathan Byers will be given the opportunity to surrender." There were a few sounds of dissent. "If he refuses, he will be arrested and brought back to the Resistance where he will be tried. Either way," she insisted, "he will be taken unharmed." She expected more resistance, but the order seemed to settle without issue. A handful of soldiers nodded compliantly and the rest quietly waited for her to continue. She got the impression their acceptance was more a matter of professionalism than agreement, but as long as the order was followed, she didn't particularly care what they thought of it.
Rallying her determination and courage, she ended loudly, "Tomorrow morning we're going to set out to finally destroy the Vale and bring an end to the Demogorgons. Tomorrow begins our mission to reclaim the world!"
A chorus of cheers followed her off of the picnic table and Twelve was met with her team as they rushed forward. She spent the next twenty minutes shaking hands and memorizing names. She discussed the marching path and the provisions needed. As she slipped out of the crowd, Dustin mounted the picnic table to direct everyone back to the armory where they would each be equipped with a flail and a gun. He began discussing other supplies as Twelve entered the breakroom. She let the door shut quietly behind her and glanced around, ensuring the room was empty. Cutting in between the tables, she snuck back into the factory and marched to the middle of the building where her plastic and rubber corpses still sat in piles. The last dummy was on its back, the blade of her knife sunk deep into its chest, right in the middle of the letter 'Y.' Placing her foot next to the knife, Twelve yanked it out and returned it to the sheath on her back. After a moment of consideration, she tore the burlap fabric from the dummy, folding it so the name 'BYERS' was hidden, and walked out the front door. Around the corner, yellow tongues of flame flicked above the rim of a rusted metal barrel. Twelve dropped the wad of burlap into the fire and watched as the fine fibers burned away into ash.
Two hours before meeting Holly for dinner, Twelve was back out in the barren field, lost in a deep meditation. She'd wanted to sit down with Lucas first and then pore over the maps again. She'd intended to pack her bag for the trip and talk to Dustin one more time. But a restless nervousness overcame her and she returned to the field to force her mind into silence.
Again and again she reminded herself that she wasn't just leading one hundred civilians into the Vale. She was leading soldiers and trained rebels. They were capable and they were armed. Yet the dread of responsibility for their lives weighed heavily and darkly after she'd left the factory that morning. And everywhere she looked, she saw the faces of people whose lives depended on her success.
She escaped the haunting fear of her own failure in the field, where she slipped into a merciful trance and the rest of the world vanished. Her breathing slowed; her muscles relaxed and a complete serenity consumed her. For how long she stood, utterly still and calm, she couldn't say, but as the sun sunk below the horizon, a resounding twinge touched her scar, like a chord being plucked deep inside her. Twelve's eyes slid open and she turned to face the iridescent curtain that cut the two dimensions. Beyond the ghostly fluttering of the barrier stood a single Demogorgon. Its slick skin reflected the purple glow of the Vale, but its jaws—clamped shut and twisted like a beak—were still glossy and black. It was turned toward Twelve, as motionless as she was, its claws curled back and its feet sunk into the soft earth. They stared at each other for what felt like eternity and Twelve sensed the clash of emotions that roiled within the Demogorgon: unbridled aggression and submissive tranquility. The two urges churned tumultuously, like a vicious soliloquy that was silent and invisible to anyone but Twelve and the Demogorgon. Finally, with a defeating sag of its broad shoulders, the Demogorgon yielded to obedience and slouched away into the Vale.
Twelve watched the undulating curtain that separated their dimensions until the shifting black form of the reaper had disappeared before turning and heading back to the Resistance.
"Joyce said that you agreed to bring Jonathan back," Holly mentioned later that evening. She was sitting on the mattress with her legs folded against her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She propped her chin on her knees and stared across the room at her sister.
Twelve nodded. "I gave the order this morning," she said.
"It'll be good for Joyce to have him back," Holly replied wistfully.
Spread across the floor in front of Twelve was the contents of her backpack for the following morning. She knelt in front of her road map and tried to recall the locations of some buildings that seemed likely spots for her team to stop and spend the night. This time they would be stopping for breaks. She had to keep in mind that she wasn't traveling alone; she was traveling with… She stopped herself before finishing the thought. Her instinct was to say 'humans,' but what would that make her?
"I don't even know if we'll see Jonathan again," she said to Holly. She grabbed the canvas bag next to her and began stuffing it with bottles of water, a couple MRE pouches, a compass. She considered the rolls of gauze and thin pouches of iodine before remembering that she would be traveling with people whose wounds didn't just heal in a day or two. Scooping the first aid supplies into the bag, she glanced up to see Holly watching sadly.
Twelve dropped her bag and leaned back into her heels. "There's a good chance we'll see him," she said, thinking of the Demogorgon that was spying on her earlier. "And if we do, he's coming home with us."
Holly gave her a sad smile. "And what about the girl?"
Twelve didn't respond. What could she say?
"Eleven?" Holly asked. "She has a nickname like yours."
"It's not her nickname," was all Twelve could manage.
Holly was quiet for a moment while she considered Twelve's response. "She was friends with Mike, wasn't she?"
Twelve sniffed uncomfortably and turned to look out the window. She caught her right hand cupping her upper left arm where her brother's name had been tattooed into the pale skin and pulled her fingers up to her face instead, pressing them nervously against her lips.
"What's going to happen to her?" Holly asked.
Twelve dropped her eyes back to the map where a black 'X' marked a bunker ten miles from the Resistance. Rebar had drawn it with a permanent marker earlier that day. "If the Authority launches an attack on the Resistance while you're still in the Vale, we've been instructed to take Holly and Joyce to this bunker," she'd told Twelve earlier that day. "No matter what happens, she'll be safe."
Twelve folded the map and tucked it into a pouch on the side of her backpack. She dropped the bag next to her machetes and hunting blade before sitting on the bed next to Holly. "I don't know what's going to happen to her," Twelve answered finally. Then she wrapped her arm around her sister and watched the moon rise outside of their window.