Chapter Three - The Pollywog

Attempting to be as silent as possible, Dustin slowly entered into his home, his eyes darting about for signs of his mother. He could hear the television set from the living room, and hoping his mother was engrossed in whatever show she was into these days, he crept toward his bedroom, his pillowcase full of candy and his home-made ghost trap clutched tightly in his hand.

Before he had taken more than a few paces Claudia Henderson appeared with a gleeful call, "Dusty!"

She rushed over to him wearing a headband with cat ears on her head.

"Dusty, how was it?"

"H-h-how was what?" Dustin stuttered.

"'How was what?'" she mocked gently, amused. "The greatest night of the year of course!"

Their cat, Mews, crowded around her feet clearly trying to regain her attention.

"Oh. Oh yeah, it was, it was uh, tubular," Dustin fumbled for an answer as he tried to think back to the night he had been looking forward to for months. All that came to mind was Max.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Claudia, concern suddenly etched across her face.

"Nothing," Dustin quickly flashed a wide grin at her.

His mother was not buying it. "Did something happen?"

"No. What? No." Why, oh why, did his voice have to become high-pitched now?

"Are you constipated again?"

"No! Mom!"

"Okay, you're acting weird," she accused him.

"I am not acting weird!" Dustin yelled back defensively.

Suddenly, the ghost trap he held rattled violently, as if something inside was attempting to burst out. Claudia gave a small shriek of alarm as Dustin tightened his grip on the contraption.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, then as Mews hissed aggressively at the trap, Dustin forced out a laugh and said, "Awesome, right? Yeah, I-I rigged the trap with, uh...a motor to make it look like I caught a ghost. Just like the movie."

Claudia gave a nervous laugh as she eyed the rattling device. "Oh, Dusty."

Dustin laughed with her. "Yeah!"

Soon both broke down into wild giggles, Claudia in delight at the ingenuity of her son whom she never knew what to expect, and Dustin high with nerves.

"Funny. Look at that. Look at that," he muttered aimlessly as he turned and made his way to his bedroom still pretending to chuckle with glee.

Finally making it to his room Dustin slid his door closed, locked it and then raised the trap up before him and hissed in a whisper. "I told you to keep quiet. All you had to do was stay still for one minute. One minute!"

Setting the trap aside, he quickly removed the covering from the aquarium containing his turtle. He reached down inside and lifted the reptile by his shell.

"Sorry, Yertle. Temporary eviction, buddy." He set Yertle on the rug by his feet then retrieved his ghost trap and, opening the trapdoors, he overturned the device and unceremoniously dumped its occupant into Yertle's vacated premises.

A small creature about the size of his hand fell out onto its back before quickly righting itself. It was round with a tail nearly twice as long as its body and two legs near the front of its body. It had a sickly green-yellow coat, covered in a slimy, mucous lining. There were no discernible eyes or ears, but as it shimmied nearer to the glass facing Dustin, it let out soft warbling noises from a toothless mouth. It then turned to its right and took cover under one of Yertle's carved-out wooden trunks.

"What are you, little guy? What were you doing in my trash?" asked Dustin in fascination as he watched the odd creature. It suddenly occurred to him that he might have been scavenging for food. "You hungry?"

Turning quickly, he dumped all of his candy from his pillowcase onto his bed covers. Sifting through the assortment he decided on a Three Musketeer. Breaking off a few pieces from the candy bar he dropped them into the aquarium. As he watched the small slug-like creature shimmied into view at the edge of the trunk's shadow. He took a bite out of the candy bar he still held as he watched the animal and he smiled warmly down at his new little friend.

"Nougat," he said as the creature's body turned up toward him, and though he had no visible eyes that Dustin could see, he knew the creature was peering at him. "Go on, eat."

But as the creature moved back out into the light he gave a small screech and hurriedly scuttled back into the shade of the log as if in pain or distress. Dustin glanced at the lamp giving off warm, red light hanging over the aquarium.

"Too hot?" He reached up and switched the light off. As soon as he had, the creature once again scuttled forward, this time with no retreat. "Sorry about that, little guy."

The creature began to eat the candy hungrily and crouching low to watch Dustin grinned in approval. "You like nougat, too, huh?"

The creature faced him and gave another soft warble as if in reply.

"You're pretty cute, you know that? I'm glad I found you," said Dustin earnestly with a chuckle. He peered down at the wrapper of the candy bar in his hand. "D'Artagnan. I'm gonna call you D'Artagnan."

A few hours later, Dustin lay stretched out on his bed, candy wrappers littered across his bed and floor. A book about reptiles lay open on his chest which rose and fell with the soft breathing of a deep sleep. In the aquarium, D'Artagnan emitted painful warbles as his body seemed to convulse from within. Suddenly, the creature's formless head lifted up toward Dustin's ceiling letting out a painful shriek that went unheard by the slumbering boy.

Deep in the woods on a snowy night, Hopper came to an empty wooden box sitting on the ground, one he had fashioned and placed there earlier in the week after hearing a strange report from a hunter at the station. In one hand he held a flashlight and in the other a food container. From behind a large tree, Eleven watched in absolute silence as the man placed the food in the wooden box, shut the lid, and then paused as if in deep thought before walking away.

Eleven watched his retreating back and for the first time in days her primary thought was not food. Instead, she thought of how cold she was as she stood there shivering. She thought of those men from the lab who came to get her and Mike and their friends in that junkyard as they crouched in hiding on that old bus. She thought of the yelps and scuffles she had heard before Hopper's hairy face had appeared and yelled for them to come with him. Of how she had somehow, inexplicably, known that they were saved. She thought of the day when she had come out of the void, after finding Will in the Upside Down, and Hopper had removed his own shirt and wrapped it around her cold, wet shoulders without a word. She thought of her first few days in the woods as she had clung to that same shirt trying to stay warm and realizing it still smelled like the man with the hairy face.

Walking back to his truck, Hopper suddenly heard loud rustling in the woods at his back. The snow crunched as if under lightweight footsteps and he quickly turned peering into the dark trees behind him. After a moment Eleven stepped out from behind a tree, wearing the same dirty, pink dress and his dark plaid shirt she had been wearing over a month ago, along with the stolen coat and hat which the hunter had reported missing after an encounter with a strange short-haired girl living in the woods. The other cops had laughed at the man's story of how the girl had made a log fly at him, knocking him out, but Hopper had known instantly that the hunter was not suffering from delusions, though he had hinted to the enraged man he thought as much.

Eleven had lived. And now she stood before him. The girl that had led him to Will Byers. The girl who had saved Michael Wheeler and his friends, sacrificing herself to do so. The girl who he had sold to Brenner in exchange for Will. And the same girl he had thought of nearly every night for the past month, whom he had thought lost forever.

This girl.

Living alone in the cold, snowy woods in a tattered dress surviving off rodents and who knew what else. Hopper suddenly felt small and undeserving. To be the one she had decided to place her trust in, humbled him to the core. He quickly removed his hat from his head, wanting her to see his face clearly. For her to see that he had every intention of protecting her and that her trust was not misplaced.

She merely gazed back at him, shivering with cold and fear, wondering if she'd made the right choice.

"Rise and shine."

Hopper's voice broke through Eleven's slumber, and her eyes popped open, staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom as she lay warm in her bed. But just as suddenly the night before came to mind and she turned to her side, facing the wall with her back to him.

"So that's it, huh? You're still not talking?" asked Hopper from the doorway, but she did not respond. "Alright."

He turned away but paused then turned back and leaned forward, his hands on the frame of her door. "I guess I'm just gonna have to, uh...enjoy this triple-decker Eggo extravaganza on my own…"

Despite her anger, Eleven's eyes peered out to her peripheral, though she could not see him.

Moments later, she sat across from him at the eating table fully-dressed as he cut exuberantly through a stack of Eggo waffles decked out in whipped cream and candy. As Hopper licked the butter knife clean, El picked out a piece of waffle and began to eat.

"Mmm! Mmm! Good right?" Hopper said loudly. "I dunno, you know the great thing about it? It's only eight thousand calories."

El merely stared at him, unimpressed, and still mad about the night before. He glanced back down at the waffles and began to cut them again unable to hold her gaze. As he did he subtly peered over at the television cord sticking out from beneath her door.

"You visited him again last night?"

El too looked at the cord then turned back to the table. Her anger quickly fell away to weary sadness. "He says he needs me."

"Want me to go check on him?"

What use would that be? Mike wasn't in any danger, but she sensed something in him. Something far deeper and more complex than she understood. She sensed a deeper kind of wound in him. Not a bleeding kind but a sucking kind. Like it was sucking the happiness away. She knew how it felt but she didn't understand it. And she didn't think Hopper would either, so she shook her head no.

Hopper folded his arms on the table before him and leaning toward her he said, "I know that you miss him, alright? But it's too dangerous. You're the last thing he needs right now. You're gonna see him. Soon. and not just in that head of yours. You're gonna see him in real life. I feel like I'm making progress with these people."

Instantly the anger was back, and El leaned forward with a fierce look in her eyes. "Friends don't lie."

"What?" asked Hopper, taken aback.

"You say 'soon' on day twenty-one. You say 'soon' on day two hundred and five. You now say 'soon' on day three hundred and twenty six?"

"What is this? You're like counting the days now like you're some kind of prisoner?" He began arranging his uniform shirt, suddenly wishing he was at work.

"When is 'soon'?" she asked.

Hopper gave a small, noncommittal shrug and answered slowly. "'Soon' is when it's not dangerous anymore."

"When?" she persisted.

Losing some composure Hopper replied, "I don't know."

"On day five hundred?"

"I don't know."

"On day six hundred?" she asked growing angrier by the second.

"I don't know," Hopper said more firmly.

"Day 700? On day 800?" Now she hit the table so that her fork rattled off the plate.

"I don't know!" Hopper shouted.

"I need to see him! Tell me!"

Hopper yelled over her, "I said I don't k-"

El suddenly threw her head back violently and the triple decker stack of waffles slid across the table crashing through the other items before hitting Hopper, dropping whipped cream, candy and pieces of Eggo into his lap. He leapt up from his seat staring down at the mess over his uniform.

"Oh! Shit!" He glared back up at Eleven in furious disbelief. "Shit!"

Eleven pushed away from the table and standing before him she said with a dark look. "Friends don't lie."

Then she stormed away from him back into her room and with a wave of her arm her door slammed shut. Back at the table Hopper kicked one of the legs, so that the remaining items clattered across the surface.

At the Byers' house three cars were parked outside the front door, Joyce's, Jonathan's and Bob's. Within the warm home, Joyce frantically searched through the cushions and pillows on her living room couch.

"Jesus. Have you seen them?" she called.

Jonathan, tired and slightly exasperated, called back, "We're looking, Mom."

Rummaging through his mom's purse, Will replied, "Yeah, we're...we're looking."

"A-ha! Found'em!" chuckled Bob triumphantly.

"Oh!" breathed Joyce in relief as she straightened up.

"Hiding under some jeans, sneaky little buggers."

Joyce took the keys and stretched up to place a kiss on Bob's cheek as Jonathan gave Bob a dark look from behind her back.

"Thank you. Thank you. You're a life saver," she told him.

Joyce turned back to her children and asked Jonathan, "Can you take Will to school today? I cannot be late again."

"He's staying over now?" questioned Jonathan under his breath.

"Can you just take Will, please?" came her hard response.

"I can take him," Bob piped up.

Joyce looked at him hesitantly. "Will you make sure he gets in okay?"

"Yeah, of course." He turned to address Will. "What do you say, big guy? Wanna go for a ride in the Bobmobile?"

Will looked to his mother at that suggestion, ready to share a laugh, but she only smiled encouragingly and so, deciding to keep the humor to himself, he grinned back at Bob shyly.

Dustin rode his bike quickly through Hawkin's downtown, hurrying so he wouldn't be too late for Mr. Clarke's class. Pulling to a stop in front of the public library he hopped off and ran up the front steps into the building, abandoning his bike right on the walkway. Already knowing what he was after Dustin searched along the shelves pulling out one book after another, as Marissa, the librarian, watched him suspiciously from behind. Having made his selections he carried them over to her desk and dropped them before her with a bright, toothy grin.

She glanced momentarily at the books with raised eyebrows then looked up at him and said, "Mr. Henderson, you know the rules. Five at a time."

Dustin peered down at the stack between them.

"Yep." Pointing out each one he counted, "One, two, three, four, and five."

He looked back at her and grinned proudly.

Reaching over to a check-out card she had waiting beside her, she corrected, "Ten. You already have five books checked out."

Dustin raised his hand placatingly. "My mistake. However...I am on a curiosity voyage, and I need my paddles to travel. These books…" He pointed at the stack and continued urgently, "These books are my paddles."

"Five at a time," she enunciated each word.

"Are you shitting me?"

"Excuse me?" she asked, affronted.

Dustin suddenly looked behind her and his eyes squinted in confusion. He pointed out something above her head and muttered, "What the hell is-"

However, as she turned to see what he was looking at he quickly gathered the books into his arms and made a break for it.

Marissa snapped back around and shouted after him, "Mr. Henderson!"

Running for the exit, Dustin screamed back, "I need my paddles!"

Will stared out the passenger window of Bob's car at the passing landscape as music played over the radio, lost in his thoughts.

"Was that you I heard milling around last night, or was that a ghost?" asked Bob.

"Yeah. Me, probably," Will replied softly.

Bob nodded understandingly. "Another nightmare?"

"Um...no," Will said. He knew it was a lie but somehow it didn't feel like one.

Bob paused for a moment, wondering if he'd be too far out of line to continue, but wanting to make some headway with at least one of Joyce's sons, he asked, "Did I ever tell you about Mr. Baldo?"

"Mr. Baldo?" Will repeated ironically.

"Yeah. I was a little younger than you, standing in line for the Ferris wheel at the Roane County fair."

Will settled back to listen. "Mmm-hmm."

"And suddenly, I feel this fat white glove tap me on the shoulder. I spin around and there he is. Mr. Baldo." Wiggling his fingers at Will, he impersonated a clown. "'H-hey kiddo, would you like a balloon?'"

Will's face broke out into a grin holding back a laugh.

"Go ahead, laugh. It's funny," Bob chuckled. Then, he said more seriously, "It wasn't funny back then, I can tell you that. I couldn't get him outta my head. Every night, he would come to me in my dreams. And every night when he came to me...I ran. It got so bad that I made my mom stay in the room with me until I could fall asleep every night."

The urge to laugh faded and Will no longer thought Bob's story sounded silly. "Really?"

"Really. It went on like that for months. And then one day, the nightmares suddenly stopped."

Will looked at Bob interested. Bob asked him, "Wanna know how?"

"How?"

"Well, I fell asleep...and just like always, Mr. Baldo came to me," Bob thought back to the evil-looking clown that had haunted him for so long. "Only this time, I didn't run. This time, I stood my ground. I just looked at Mr. Baldo, in his stupid face, and I said, 'Go away. Go away!' And just like that, he was gone. Never saw him again."

Will, who had listened to his story as he pictured the shadow monster from his nightmares, looked back at him amazed.

"Easy-peasy, right?" Bob said peering down at him.

Will nodded slowly and repeated. "Easy-peasy."

Bob gave him a small smile and with a snap of his fingers he said again, "Just like that."

"I still don't get why they call him 'Zombie Boy'," Max stated as she strode slowly down the school hallway with Lucas on their way to first period. "I mean, I get it. He got lost in the woods for like a week or something, but why's he a zombie? Because everyone thought he was dead?"

Lucas said uncomfortably, "Yeah, I mean, we had a funeral for him and everything."

"After a week?" asked Max skeptically.

"Well, see, some other kid drowned at the quarry. We thought it was Will because his body was super decomposed," Lucas stated and even he had to admit it sounded like reading off of a script.

Now Max was entirely disbelieving. "What? Okay, that's not funny."

Lucas sighed wearily. "It's not a joke, alright? It's public knowledge. You can ask anybody. Except Will, because he is really sensitive about it. All right?"

Max gave a small nod and though she would never have admitted it something about the story gave her the chills.

"Okay," she said as she recovered herself. Then she and Lucas continued on to class.

Outside the school entrance walkway, Bob's Camry pulled to a stop and Will climbed out as his mother's boyfriend piped, "Have a great day kiddo!"

Will nodded and headed into school, securing his backpack on his shoulders as students walked all around him. He could not help feeling as if all their eyes were following his movements or that their muttered conversations were about him. He felt exposed and he wished he could turn himself invisible, or better yet learn not to care what they think, like his brother Jonathan.

Before long Will, Mike, Lucas and Max had all settled into first period with their fellow classmates and Mr. Clarke was saying, "The case of Phineas Gage is one of the great medical curiosities of all time. Phineas was a railroad worker in 1848 who had a nightmarish accident. A large iron rod was driven completely through his head."

Mr. Clarke drew a line through the slide being projected on the pull-down screen with a dry-erase marker. Walking around the projector he continued, "Phineas miraculously survived. He seemed fine. And physically, yes, he was. But his injury resulted in a complete change to his personality."

Though Will, Mike and Lucas were all paying close attention to the lesson Max found that all she could think about was the story Lucas had told her about Will, and the other dead kid who had been found and mistaken for him. Though she had promised not to ask Will about it she couldn't help that she burned with curiosity. As she stared at the back of Will's head she longed to ask him more about the events of last year. Suddenly, Will turned and noticed her looking at him and she quickly turned away.

"So much so that friends who knew him started referring to him as 'no longer Gage'," Mr. Clarke added. Will faced the front of the class again. He knew why Max had been staring at him. It was the same reason everyone else did.

Mr. Clarke said, "At the time, this was known as the American Crowbar case. Although it wasn't a-"

With a bang the classroom door burst open and Dustin darted into the room, completely out of breath.

"I am sorry Mr. Clarke," he panted. "Really, I am so sorry. Please continue with the class. Don't mind me."

The class and teacher watched as he shrugged out of the straps of his backpack and took his seat.

"Really, continue please. Thanks."

Deciding not to comment, Mr. Clarke went on. "Although it wasn't a crowbar, it was a rod, as I said."

Leaving over into the aisle Dustin whispered to Mike, Will and Lucas, "We have to meet. All of us. At lunch, AV Club."

"Why?" Mike whispered back.

"I have something that you won't believe," he told them mysteriously. The others returned their focus to Mr. Clarke as Dustin turned in his seat and whispered loudly down the aisle at Max, "AV Club. Lunch."

"Dustin!" snapped Mr. Clarke, more than a little peeved.

"Yes, my lord?" Dustin responded as he snapped back around.

"Would you care to join the class now?"

"Please, yes," he hurriedly reached down to retrieve his books from his bag.

"The case of Phineas Gage."

"Phineas Gage."

"Page one oh four."

"One oh four. One oh four," Dustin repeated.

"Focus," Mr. Clarke told him sternly.

"Focusing. Focusing."

Dustin set his books on his desk, but as Mr. Clarke went on with his lesson he turned back to Max and mouthed again, "AV Club."

She gave him a thumbs up and an ironic smile. He grinned back widely, pleased, and returning the gesture he finally settled back to listen to the lesson.

"And he began to curse, using terrible words that I don't dare repeat here," Mr. Clarke was saying.

The bag at Dustin's feet suddenly jostled from within and muffled warbles issued from it though only he had heard. He quickly reached down and zipped the bag closed.

Within the Hawkin's police department Hopper listened closely as Powell informed him, "And we found some more by Gilbert's farm."

"Some real nasty stuff. It was sticky," Callahan commented as Hopper made a mark on the map of Hawkins he was referencing.

"Alright. Where else?" He looked back at his officers when they did not respond.

Powell glanced down at his notes then back up to him. "That was it, Chief."

"That was it, or you just get tired of looking?" Hopper grouched.

"It was getting dark."

"I mean, it was really dark," whined Callahan.

"They're called flashlights, you dipshits," Hopper growled.

"Oh, okay," Callahan muttered in offense. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"More lady problems, Chief?" asked Powell slyly.

However, after staring at the map hanging on the wall for a moment Hopper suddenly tore it down and shoved Callahan off the desk he was sitting on. He laid the map flat across the surface and using a red marker he drew circles connecting the blue x's he had marked over the affected locations. The circles formed a concentric pattern until the tip of his pen landed at the center where a small rectangular piece of paper had been glued to the map to represent the building that existed on that land. With a dark glower, Hopper folded the map and retrieved his coat.

"Hey, Chief!" Powell called to him as he strode away. "Where you going?"

Flo handed him the keys to his truck as he kicked his way through the half-sized swinging door and continued on without a word to his officers.

"You want us to go back out there?"

"Why's he gotta kick the door?" Callahan griped.

"Hey, Chief!" Powell called again, but Hopper had already left.

In the cabin in the woods, Eleven lay on her side in bed staring at her reflection in the screen of the television that was her only escape from her reality. She raised herself to her elbows thinking. Before long she had grabbed her blindfold and was tying it around her head over her eyes. She took a breath, folded her hands in front of her, trying to focus her mind, but before two seconds had even passed she yanked the cloth off unhappily.

She was tired of being a ghost.

Slowly, she opened the door of her bedroom and stepped out wearing her jacket over her clothes. She glanced around the cabin as she walked to the front door, half-expecting Hopper to appear in the kitchen or burst out of his room. As she came to the door she eyed the many locks Hopper had put in place so many months ago.

Hopper opened the door of an old musty cabin. Before stepping through the threshold he tapped his boots on the door frame, knocking the snow from his boots, then entered and removed his coat as behind him Eleven too tapped her feet on the door frame, mimicking him.

"My granddad used to live here. Long time ago," Hopper told her as she paced around the dirty cabin taking in the many cobwebs and moldy smelling boxes, lamps, and torn curtains. "I mainly just use it for storage now. Lot of history here."

Hopper removed a box covered in pictured flowers from a chair and set it on the floor. He looked over at her and asked, "So, uh...what d'you think?"

She turned her gaze back to him, watching him in confusion.

'It's a work-in-progress. You know, it's, uh...it takes a little imagination," he admitted a little self-consciously. "But, uh...once we fix it up, it's gonna be nice."

He pulled down a cobweb then shook it loose from his hand.

"Real nice," he repeated with a slightly nervous grin as he watched her staring around at the place. Then he told her, "This is your new home."

Eleven looked at him once more. She felt something warm stir within her and she almost smiled as she said the word for herself. "Home."

A moment later Hopper was rummaging through a case of old records when he pulled out an album by Jim Croce titled, You Don't Mess Around With Jim.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah. yeah," he glanced back at Eleven holding up the record for her to see. "Alright, this...this is music."

He pulled the disc out and placed it on the turn-table of the record player. He set the stylus on the record and turned back to El as music filled the cabin. The loudness of the beat gave El a small start and she sat up straight. El watched Hopper in amazement as he began to snap his fingers, tapped his feet on the floor and wiggled his hips. She frowned in half-confusion, half-amusement, as he danced for a moment before straightening up.

He gave a quick nod then said in a business-like tone, "Alright." He clapped his hands together enthusiastically. "Let's get to work."

The work was long and hard. Eleven inhaled much dust that day, as she removed filthy blankets from the furniture and swept a broom across the floor. She kept receiving lungfuls of flying particles whenever she passed Hopper as he beat the curtains clean. At one point Hopper took the broom from her and demonstrated the proper way to hold it and sweep. She watched him momentarily but quickly snatched the broom back in order to copy the movement, and he had resumed his own duties with a pleased eye at how fast and eager of a learner she was.

Once Hopper had beat the dust off the mattress and placed clean sheets and blankets on the bed he had told her it would be hers and she tested it out by sitting on it with a bounce and running her hands over the colorful quilt, a small, excited grin struggling to break out on her face.

As time passed Hopper began to teach her things, not just about words, or reading, or writing, but about radios, and communicating secretly with what he called Morse code. He often came home from work with things for their cabin, and one night she glanced back to see him putting away boxes of food as she pieced together a puzzle he had pulled out of storage for her. Her attention on her puzzle she did not notice him put a box of Eggos in the freezer box. One day she looked up as he carried in a large and heavy looking box and set it down before she realized it was a television set like the one she had seen in Mike's house. She watched as he set antennas on the top and plugged it in.

One night while she slept Hopper began fashioning a complex device out of a mousetrap and bullet shells. The next morning he took El out into the woods outside their cabin and as he explained what he was doing he coiled wire around a tree trunk, low to the ground, securing it with nails. He stretched the wire to another tree where the mousetrap had been nailed low on the trunk. He sat on the snowy ground.

"Give me those, okay." He took the pliers he had asked her to hold and used it to clip the wire from the rest of the reel as he explained, "Now, this is called a trip wire. It's like an alarm."

He secured the end of the wire to the mouse trap.

"You, uh, set it up like this. And then, anybody gets close, it's gonna make a loud noise like, uh, gunfire. Bang!" he said loudly, and El gave a small start. He chuckled apologetically, placing his hand on hers to remind her she was safe, then he gave a sniff and told her seriously, "Those bad men aren't gonna find ya. Alright? Not way the hell out here. We'll take some precautions. There's gonna be a couple ground rules."

He met her eyes with a stern gaze and she knew he wanted her full attention.

Back inside the cabin at the dinner table he placed a sheet of notepad paper in front of her with rules written out.

"Rule number one," he began. "Always keep the curtains drawn."

Eleven thought of that sheet of paper as she threw the dark curtains open and slid the blinds up, letting bright sunlight shine over her from outside.

"Rule number two, only open the door if you hear my secret knock."

Hopper performed a rhythmic pattern of two knocks, pause, one knock, pause, three quick knocks.

The sound of that knock filled her ears as she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"And rule number three," Hopper finished. "Don't ever go out alone, especially not in the daylight."

Eleven stepped out onto the porch, the sun beaming down high in the sky. She turned and looked back at the cabin that had been both home and prison for the past year.

"That's it," Hopper said easily. "Three rules. I call'em the, uh…'Don't Be Stupid' rules. 'Cause we're not stupid. Right?"

Eleven thought of Hopper's face when he had asked if they were stupid. With a defiant glare at the tripwire he had placed for her protection she said, "Not stupid."

And lifting her leg she stepped over it and continued on through the woods leaving her cabin without a backwards glance.

Running across the school gymnasium, dribbling a basketball between his legs with sweat pouring down his back under his t-shirt, Steve jogged toward the opposing end of the court. It wasn't long before the new guy, Billy Hargrove, was crouched in front of him once again. Steve gave an inward sigh. Billy had been hounding him the entire game and while Billy seemed to be barely out of breath, Steve was growing tired. But he was unwilling to admit it so he performed some fancy dribble-work as he took a moment to think out his strategy. Cutting to the right, and turning his body to keep Billy away from the ball he tried to edge past him as his opponent pressed his bare, sweaty chest against him forcefully, trying to break past his defense.

"Harrington, right?" Billy muttered as he chewed his gum. "I heard you used to run this school. That true? King Steve they used to call you, huh?"

Steve could smell the mint on Billy's breath and he leaned his head away.

"Then you turned bitch."

"Hey, maybe you should just shut up and just play the game," Steve griped in frustration.

Suddenly, Billy shoved him aside and Steve fell hard to the floor as his opponent pounced on the ball and dribbled it back up the court at a run. Steve scrambled back to his feet as Billy leapt into the air with perfect form, and swooping the ball under his right knee to his other hand, he took his shot and the ball went straight through the net without even a glance on the rim.

"Whoo!" Billy exclaimed as one of his teammates clapped his hand. "That's what I'm talking about! Whoo!"

He stared across the gym at Steve with a gloating smirk as Steve bent over with his hands on his knees groaning inwardly and trying to catch his breath.

"Steve?"

Steve turned and found Nancy standing beside the bleachers, her school books tucked under her arm, watching him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked after following her outside.

"What do you think?" she asked in annoyance. "Where were you this morning? I missed first period."

"I figured Jonathan would take you," Steve muttered dispassionately, not caring enough to apologize for not picking her up for school as he always had.

Nancy blinked in confusion. "Wha-what are you talking about?"

"Jesus, you really can't handle your alcohol," Steve scoffed. "Uh...you remember going to Tina's party last night, right?"

"Yes," she said somewhat reluctantly.

"And then what?"

"I...remember dancing, and...spilling some punch. You got mad at me because I was drunk…" Nancy frowned as she tried to piece together the jumbled haze of the night before. Steve scoffed again. "And then you took me home."

Steve pulled the towel from his right shoulder and used both hands to drape it over the back of his neck as he said, "Nah, see that's where your mind gets a little bit fuzzy. That was your other boyfriend. That was...that was Jonathan."

He said it quickly, as if the words burned to say them and Nancy noticed that he wasn't meeting her eyes.

'I don't understand," she said, baffled.

"It's pretty simple, Nancy. You were just telling it like it is." He still wouldn't look her in the eyes.

"What?"

His gaze rested on the brick wall behind her somewhere above her head as he explained, "Uh, apparently, uh...we killed Barb and I don't care, 'cause I'm bullshit...and our whole...our whole relationship is bullshit, and...I mean, pretty much everything is just bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Oh, yeah, also, you don't love me."

With that last statement his eyes bored into hers.

"I was drunk, Steve. I don't remember any of that," Nancy said defensively.

"So that makes everything that you said...it's what? Just bullshit, too?" he asked angrily.

"Yes!" she replied confidently.

"Well, then tell me," he told her, hating how desperate he sounded.

"Tell you what?"

Half-embarrassed and feeling like he might cry he croaked out, "You love me."

Nancy mouthed incredulously for a moment, a strange, confused smile playing around on the edges of her lips as if she wasn't sure if he was being serious or simply teasing her. But beneath it he saw the doubt flicker in her eyes, and she realized he had read into her hesitation.

"R-really?" she played it off, attempting to buy herself some time to formulate a response.

A door banged open somewhere and suddenly one of Steve's teammates appeared.

"Harrington!" he shouted angrily. Nancy and Steve peered over at the flustered teen. "Dude, we need you, man! That douchebag's killing us! Let's go!"

"Alright!" Steve yelled back.

"Come on!" his teammate urged impatiently.

Steve turned back to Nancy waiting for her answer. She slowly faced him and reluctantly met his eyes, but this time it was she who couldn't hold his gaze and she stared sadly down at her feet.

Steve rolled his eyes and walked away from her saying over his shoulder, "I think that you're bullshit."

Nancy did not respond. She merely gazed shamefully at the ground.

During the lunch period, Dustin, Lucas, Will, Mike and Max gathered around Dustin's ghost trap which he opened to present his newfound friend.

As the strange creature mosied around inside the trap Dustin told them, "His name is D'artagnan."

He reached in and pulled the animal out so that he was sitting in the palm of his hand. The others watching silently, Dustin smiled over at Lucas and said, "Cute, right?"

"D'Artagnan?" asked Mike.

"Dart for short," Dustin replied.

"And he was in your trash?" Max clarified skeptically.

"Foraging for food." He glanced down at the creature in his hand then asked her, "You wanna hold him?"

"No, no," she shook her head quickly.

Dustin leaned forward saying excitedly, "He doesn't bite."

"I don't want to-" But as she put her hands up to ward him off he slipped the small creature into her hands and she exclaimed in disgust, "Oh God, he's slimy!"

She quickly passed the animal to Lucas who rose to his feet, repulsed.

"Ugh, he's like a living booger." Lucas passed Dart across the table to Will like he was a slimy, hot potato.

Will's face scrunched up in revulsion. "Ugh, oh God!"

Will dropped Dart into Mike's hands who lifted him up to eye level and scrutinized him, somewhat fascinated.

"What is he?" he asked Dustin uncertainly.

"My question exactly," said Dustin, grinning in delight. He pulled out his stolen library books and began to explain his research. "At first, I thought it was some type of pollywog."

"Pollywog?" asked Max.

"It's another word for tadpole," Dustin clarified. "A tadpole is the larval stage of a toad-"

"I-I know what a tadpole is," Max cut across him.

"Alright, then you know that most tadpoles are aquatic, right?" Dustin pointed out as he opened one of his books to a bookmarked page. "Well, Dart, he isn't. He doesn't need water."

"Yeah, but aren't there non-aquatic pollywogs?" asked Lucas.

"Terrestrial pollywogs? Yep. Two to be exact." He opened to another bookmarked page. "Indirana semipalmata. And the Adenomera andreae. One's from India, one's from South America. So how did one end up in my trash?"

"Maybe some scientists brought it here, and it escaped?" suggested Max.

"Do you guys see that? Looks like something's moving inside of it," Mike drew their attention back to Dart.

They all peered down at the creature milling around on the table and noticed something bulging from within him as if something was trying to poke out near its tail end. Dustin frowned at it and as they all leaned in for a closer look Mike pulled the desk lamp around to get a brighter view. As soon as the light touched the creature it screeched in pain and scrambled over the cords attached to Dustin's ghost trap and right off the table.

Dustin quickly stretched out his hands and caught D'Artagnan, exclaiming softly, "Whoa."

The creature chittered at him and Dustin smiled as he cooed softly, "It's okay, it's okay. I got you, little guy. I know you don't like that. It's okay."

Lucas squinted his eyes with incredulity as he watched Dustin baby the creature.

"And there's another thing," Dustin glanced up at the others. "Reptiles, they're cold-blooded. Ectothermic, right? They love heat, the sun. Dart hates it. It hurts him."

"So, if he's not a pollywog or a reptile…" said Lucas slowly.

"Then I've discovered a new species," Dustin stated with glee. He smiled back down at Dart and ran a finger gently down its back and tail as Will watched disconcerted.

Unbidden, a memory from Christmas Eve last year came to Will in which he had coughed up slimy matter into his bathroom sink. He remembered how it slid down the faucet, perhaps even slithering. And then he remembered the sight of the Upside Down as he had seen it just the night before, when he had heard that strange noise. Like some sort of animal warbling all around him. Listening to the small chittering of the creature in Dustin's hand he realized it had a very similar sound. A ringing bell resonated over the loudspeakers and Will leapt as he was jerked from his thoughts. They all jumped up to gather their things and head off to their afternoon classes.

As they poured out of the AV room Lucas told Dustin, "We gotta show him to Mr. Clarke."

"No," Dustin protested. "What if he steals my discovery?"

"He's not gonna steal your discovery," Mike rolled his eyes.

"You know I'm thinking about calling it Dustonious pollywogus. What do you think?" he asked Max with a grin as she fell into step beside him.

"I think you're an idiot," she smirked.

"You know when I become rich and famous for this one day, don't come crawling back, saying, 'Oh my God, Dustin, I'm so sorry for being mean to you back in eighth grade. Oh my God'," Dustin mocked.

Behind them Will followed slowly, lost in anxious thoughts about D'Artagnan the pollywog.

At Melvard's General store, Joyce pulled out a few cash bills as she paid a customer his change and told him with a smile, "Have a nice day."

"Thank you," the man replied. The tall man walked away, and Joyce smiled at the next man in line who happened to be Bob.

He held up two paper lunch bags and asked, "Baloney?"

Joyce smiled and joined him for lunch in the parking lot.

"Last night was fun," he told her as they enjoyed their sandwiches.

"Mm-hmm," Joyce mumbled as she chewed her food.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped anything."

"No! No, you didn't," Joyce told him quickly.

"Okay. I mean," Bob said meekly. "I j-I like you so much. Not just you, everything that comes with you. Your family, your boys. And I hope it's not wishful thinking, but...I kinda feel like l'm breaking through with them. I mean, not so much Jonathan. He's a tough cookie to crack, but…" (Joyce grimaced a little amused, a little embarrassed by her teenage son.) "With Will, I don't know, I feel like we're connecting."

"He likes you too," Joyce told him earnestly.

"Yeah?" Bob asked, pleased.

"Mm-hmm," she mumbled around the bite she had just taken. "I can tell."

"Good." Bob reached down and lifted up a can of soda, popping open the tab. "Oh, there was...something else I was gonna mention, but...it's not a big deal at all, but...I just noticed this morning that my JVC was a little dinged up."

"You're what?" Joyce asked, lost.

"The video camera."

"Oh."

'Yeah. It still works fine and everything. I just...I went back and watched the tape...and there were some older kids picking on Will."

"What?" blinked Joyce dangerously.

"They scared him," he told her.

"Who were they?" she demanded to know. "Were they the Zimmerman brothers again?"

"Um, I don't know," he admitted, uncertainly. "They were wearing masks or sort of makeup and...maybe. They were the right age."

"I'll kill them," Joyce declared in a low, furious voice. "I swear to God, I will...I will kill them."

"That's what I love about you. You punch back," Bob said admiringly and she looked back at him almost sheepishly. He chuckled and stared down at the pavement. "I was never really one to put up a fight. I struggled a lot like Will when I was a kid. With bullies."

He sighed, feeling weary and enraged all at once. "It's the ones like us, that don't punch back, that people really take advantage of, you know? They rub your nose in it, just a little bit more. I don't know why they do that. Maybe it makes them feel powerful. I don't know."

Joyce watched him. She had never known about his struggles in school and she felt half-ashamed that she had not noticed more.

"But, hey, look at me now," he gazed over at her. "I get to date Joyce Byers. Ha! Are you kidding me? I get to date…"

She gave a small giggle as he mouthed her name in ecstasy.

"See," he said happily. "It all works out in the end, doesn't it?"

"Yes it does," she nodded, smiling brightly at him. She suddenly felt far younger and attractive.

He leaned forward and kissed her and they returned to their lunch. But as they moved to other topics of discussion Joyce's mind returned to that tape and of the boys teasing her son. Maybe Will wasn't the kind to fight back, but she as hell was.

"Grass, crops, trees. Everything in this area is either dead or dying, and that's a radius of over three miles. And it all leads back to here."

Hopper pointed at the small rectangle representing Hawkins lab on the map which he had laid flat across Owens' desk.

"See, these patterns here are really pretty," Owens said sardonically, waving his hand over the map. "I like the design. It's almost psychedelic."

"This is a joke to you, huh?" Hopper rolled his eyes in aggravation, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

"No, it's not a joke. I just...I real-I don't understand what this has to do with me, Chief Hopper," Owens said more seriously.

"Whatever is happening is spreading from this place, from this lab," Hopper said distinctly.

"That's impossible. It's...the last burn it was-it was two days ago," Owens dismissed as he walked around to his desk chair. "It's contained."

"What if there's a leak?"

"A leak?" he chuckled amused.

"I don't know, man. You're the scientist!" Hopper's voice rose in frustrated self-defense.

"Exactly. And I'm telling ya there's nothing to worry about."

"Convince me," Hopper demanded.

"Convince you?" asked Owens, incredulously.

Hopper stood, towering over Owens' desk. "Yeah. You and your egghead friends go out there to every area on this map and you run your tests, or whatever the hell it is you do, and you see if anything comes up."

Owens gave a wheezy laugh. "Alright, so...so you're...you're giving me orders now?" He shook his head and said with an edge to his voice, "No."

"I keep things nice and quiet for you…" Hopper glared dangerously.

"Mmm-hmm."

"...and you keep your shit out of my town. That is the deal. I have done my part, now you do yours." Hopper shoved the map at Owens and said again in a low, threatening voice, "Convince me."

As Nancy sat atop the hood of Jonathan's car during lunch, she questioned him about the night before, "So, he asked you to take me home?"

"Yeah. Yeah he was upset. I mean, he was… he was really upset. But he was still worried about you," Jonathan said quickly as Nancy peered at the ground looking miserable. "Hey. You need to cut yourself some slack, okay? You know, people say stupid things when they're wasted. You know, things they don't mean."

"Yeah, but that's the thing. What if I did mean it?" The words burst out from her. "All this time, I've been trying so hard to pretend like everything's fine, but it's not. I...I feel like there's this...I don't know, like this…"

"Like there's this weight you're carrying around with you," Jonathan finished, watching her knowingly. "All the time. I feel it, too."

"Yeah, but it's different for you. Will came home."

"Yeah. Yeah he did. But you know, he's not the same. I try to be there for him, you know, to help him, but," he sighed, tiredly. "I don't know. I mean, maybe...maybe things just can't go back to the way they were."

Nancy's eyebrows rose with incredulity at the quiet, matter-of-fact way in which Jonathan had said the very thing that had been boiling in her all year.

"Doesn't that make you mad?" she asked in frustration.

"Mad?"

'Yeah, that those...those people who did this, who ruined so many lives, they just-they just get away with it."

"The people responsible for this...they're dead," he told her.

"Do you really believe that?" she asked fiercely.

Jonathan looked away unable to deny that he didn't. Nancy laid off him and her eyes wandered around to the other high schoolers when she noticed a boy sitting at a picnic table and wearing headphones press play on his Walkman as he prepared to eat his lunch. It was so loud she could hear it from where she sat. Suddenly, an idea occurred to her. A dangerous and thrilling idea.

"Your mom's boyfriend. He works at RadioShack, right?" she asked Jonathan.

"Yeah. But why?" he replied uncertainly. He could almost see the wheels spinning in her head. "What are you thinking?"

Surprising him as she always did, she asked, "Do you wanna skip fourth period?"

As Eleven neared the edge of the woods she heard a woman's laugh.

"Isn't this fun?" she laughed again.

El followed the sounds until she spotted a woman pushing a young child on a swing-set in her backyard.

"Pump your feet," she told the small child, who couldn't be much older than three years of age.

Eleven watched the young mother with her child for some time almost forgetting what she had set out to do.

El lay in bed, listening in silence as Hopper read the book, Anne of Green Gables, from the chair beside her.

"'I would feel so sad if I thought I was a disappointment to her...because she didn't live long after that, you see. She died of a fever when I was just three months old. I do wish she'd lived long enough for me to remember calling her mother. I think it would be so sweet to say 'mother'.'"

"Do I have a mother?" El asked abruptly.

Hopper paused, slightly taken aback by her question. "Yeah, of course you have a mother. You couldn't really be born without one."

"Where is she?" she asked him.

"She...she's not around anymore," Hopper told her hesitantly.

"Gone?" croaked El, emotionally.

"Yeah," he said gently. He watched as tears welled up in her eyes and she seemed to struggle with a wave of grief for the mother she would never know. "I'm sorry about that, kid."

He continued to watch her momentarily wanting to say something more to comfort her, to reverse the pain he had caused. But instead he turned back to the book and continued reading as Eleven wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"'And, uh, father died four days afterward from fever, too. That left me an orphan and folks were at their wits' end, so Mrs. Thomas said to me, what to do with me. You see, nobody wanted me even then. It seems to be my fate.'"

"Is your mom here? Sweetie."

Broken out of her memories Eleven suddenly realized that the young mother had ventured over and was now standing a few feet from her. She held her daughter's small hand and was gazing at El with much concern.

"School," said El. "Where is school?"

"The school? It's uh...it's about a mile that way," she pointed to her left and Eleven peered in that direction. "At least. Where are your parents?"

Though the woman seemed nice and Eleven thought her pretty she did not want to be asked any more questions. She focused her mind on the swingset behind the woman and her daughter.

"Look, Mommy, look," exclaimed the little girl as the creaking and rattling of metal chains grabbed her attention.

The woman turned and saw to her astonishment that the swing her daughter had just been on was looping wildly around the bar it was attached to over and over again until the swing coiled as much as it could and the swing-set gave a powerful wobble. She quickly turned back around in alarm but the girl she had been talking to was nowhere to be seen.

After work Joyce drove straight home knowing that Will had AV club with his friends that day. She went back to his bedroom and, spotting the video recorder on his dresser, retrieved it and pulled out the tape inside. Thinking to herself how small the tape looked compared to others she had seen, she took it to the living room and placed it into the VHR. She struggled with fitting it in correctly as it didn't seem large enough for the player and whenever she pressed the case closed it wouldn't stay down. Finally, at her wits end she called Bob at RadioShack.

"RadioShack, Bob Newby speaking. How can I help ya?" her boyfriend answered.

"Bob, it's Joyce."

"Hey Joyce, how ya doing?" he replied, pleased, as he examined a wire to a tech device he was repairing.

"Hey, um...I'm trying to watch your video thingy, and the tape, it's...it's tiny. It's like its shrunk," she explained the perplexing situation.

Bob chuckled in amusement, and he shifted the phone to his shoulder so he could utilize both of his hands. "That's 'cause it's a VHS-C, not a VHS. You gotta find the RF-P1U with coaxial cable so you can connect the video ins and outs."

"Bob, English," Joyce intercepted before he could continue.

"Right. Sorry, um…" he thought for a moment of how he could begin to explain so Joyce would understand.

Several minutes later Joyce was still on the phone with Bob, crouched before the TV set as static filled the screen.

"No, yeah, I did the coaxial things in the back, so I...this one just goes into the camera itself?" she fit a cord into a slot on the camera, her telephone held to her ear by her shoulder.

"Yeah. Yeah, exactly," Bob confirmed over the phone.

Once the cord was plugged in the screen immediately turned to blue.

"It's blue. I think it's working," she said quickly.

As Bob fiddled with a pair of pliers he said, "I was thinking maybe tonight we-"

He cut off when he suddenly heard dial tones over the phone.

"Joyce?"

Back in the Byers' living room Joyce pressed play on the camera and the tape began to play. Bob appeared on screen, dressed as Count Dracula and instructing Jonathan on how to use the camera. "So you hit 'T' to zoom in, and 'W' zooms back out. See? Easy-peasy."

She watched for a moment then pressed the forward button to skip ahead.

The tape squealed as the images on the screen zoomed passed the many houses Will and his friends had visited the night before. As she watched she noticed a few tall figures appear directly in front of the camera and she quickly reversed the tape to see the entire incident. Hitting play she watched as a tall teenage boy in a Halloween mask came around the corner, took notice of Will, and snarled menacingly, "Watch it Zombie boy!"

Another boy dressed as Jason from Friday the 13th, mocked, "Trick or treat, freak."

"Boo!" shouted a third boy dressed as a clown.

After the third boy, Will fell to the ground, dropping the camera, and the boys laughed as they left him there, one calling out, "Loser!"

Joyce's eyes closed in pain and anger for her son. After all he had been through, was still going through, he continued to suffer at the cruelty of others.

On the tape Will was calling out anxiously, "Mike! Mike!"

While she watched the recording began to flicker and became staticy, and at first she thought it was because Will had dropped the camera. However, she noticed the static didn't look quite right. It didn't stretch across the screen in thin, long lines or appear formless, but rather it was curved in places, as if a shape was hidden inside. As the video played she hovered her finger over the pause button and when she saw the static again she quickly pressed pause. She ran her fingers over the static lines trying to discern its shape when abruptly she realized what she thought it might look like.

Instantly scrambling to her feet, Joyce ran to the kitchen and opened a drawer. She pulled out a roll of wax paper and tore a large chunk off then grabbed a random crayon from a shelf. She sprinted back to the television and held the wax paper against the screen with one hand. With her right she began to color in the lines of the static image onto the wax paper. When she had finished she examined her messy work, and staring down at the image she had drawn so sloppily, a jolt of horror flowed through her. Dashing to the dining table where she had left the dark drawing Will had lied about, she set her sloppy image beside his neat, detailed work. Despite the lack of artistry on hers, and the blue crayon versus Will's black image, the figures featured in the drawings were identical.

The final school bell rang and students poured out of Hawkins Middle School, chatting with friends about this and that.

"Will, you coming? Let's go show Mr. Clarke." Mike waited for Will to catch up as Will idled by his locker door, hesitating.

He seemed concerned and anxious, as if he wasn't sure he should say whatever was bothering him. Will closed his locker door and walked slowly over to Mike who asked,"What? What?"

"It's about D'Artagnan," said Will.

Standing before Mr. Clarke's desk Dustin began his presentation, "This is the reason I was late for class."

He set his ghost trap on Mr. Clarke's desk.

"Pretty neat," said Mr. Clarke enthusiastically. "These doors function?"

He examined the contraption, impressed, as Lucas and Max stood waiting anxiously to see his reaction.

"Well, yeah, obviously. But it's not about the trap. It's what's inside," he pronounced mysteriously. "Now, this very well may change your perception of the world."

"Consider my interest piqued," smiled Mr. Clarke.

"Alright, first, let's just clarify that...this is my discovery, not yours," Dustin began.

"Dustin, Jesus! Just show him!" Lucas exclaimed, losing his patience.

"Alright, I'm just trying to clarify-"

"Dustin!" cried Max.

"Okay, fine." Dustin turned back to their teacher but then the classroom door burst open and Mike bolted wildly into the room.

"Stop!" he screamed.

Darting to the teacher's desk, Mike looked up at Mr. Clarke saying, "I'm really sorry, Mr. Clarke. It was just a stupid prank."

He snatched the ghost trap and hugged it tightly to his chest as Dustin demanded, "What the hell you doing?"

"I told him to stop," Mike was saying then, turning to the others he ordered, "We need to go, right now."

"Mike!" yelled Dustin.

"Right now!" Mike bellowed, far more animated and energized than any of his friends had seen him in months.

Hastening after Mike as he ran off with D'Artagnan, Dustin, Lucas, Will and Max left Mr. Clarke looking perplexed and a little disappointed beside his desk.

Out in the parking lot Billy leaned against his Camaro beside an attractive girl who asked him, "So, is your sister coming or what?"

"Screw it. That little shit can skate home," he declared, and he spat on the ground with a dark look on his face, tossing his cigarette away. He walked around to the driver's seat adding, "And don't call her that."

"What?" the girl asked confused, caught off guard by the venom in his voice.

"Sister," he snapped. "She's not my sister."

Billy climbed into the car, and with far more timidity than she had before, the girl climbed in beside him. Billy started the Camaro and backed out of the parking space wildly. Loud music came on over the radio and the girl sat nervously as he sped them off out of the parking lot, tires squealing.

Outside of the AV lab Max was pounding on the locked door. "Hello? Hello? Guys, come on. Can I come in yet?"

"No!" Mike shouted from the other side. Max hit the door with the side of her fist in frustration.

From within the room Dustin was saying, "I don't understand."

"What do you not understand?" Mike frowned.

"Will saw something that looked like Dart last year?" Lucas asked.

"Kind of but there was no tail," Will explained.

"But then he heard it yesterday. The exact same sound," Mike said.

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Dustin asked Will impatiently.

"I wasn't sure," he admitted.

"So it's a coincidence," Dustin proclaimed.

"Or not," countered Mike. "What if when Will was stuck in the Upside Down, he somehow acquired True Sight?"

"True Sight?" asked Lucas.

"It gives you the power to see into the ethereal plane," Dustin expressed.

Lucas huffed. "Elaborate."

"Maybe these episodes that Will keeps having aren't really flashbacks at all," Mike suggested. "Maybe they're real. Maybe Will can somehow see into the Upside Down."

"So that would mean…" said Lucas slowly.

"Dart is from the Upside Down," Mike stated.

Lucas let out a deep breath. "We have to take him to Hopper."

"I agree," Mike consented.

"No. No way," protested Dustin. "If we take him to Hopper, Dart's as good as dead."

"Maybe he should be."

"How can you say that?" Dustin asked angrily.

"How can you not?" Mike replied disbelievingly. "He's from the Upside Down."

"Maybe," allowed Dustin. "But even if he is, it doesn't automatically mean that he's bad."

"That's like saying just because someone's from the Death Star doesn't make them bad."

"We have a bond," Dustin pleaded in a low voice.

"A bond?" Mike repeated dubiously. "Just because he likes nougat?"

"No, because he trusts me!"

"He trusts you?" doubted Lucas.

"Yes! I promised that I would take care of him."

All of a sudden Dart screeched from within the trap he was contained in and the box jostled on the table violently. Alarmed the boys all backed away. Outside in the hall Max knocked again on the door from where she was crouched beside it on the floor.

"Guys, what's going on? Come on," she called.

No response came and she slouched back against the wall incensed. Then, deciding to take matters into her own hands, she opened up her backpack and pulled a paperclip out of her bag. Straightening the wire she inserted it into the keyhole and began to pick the lock.

Inside the AV lab the boys continued to watch the trap shake on the table when it suddenly flipped onto its side. Quickly, Mike snatched the speaker to the Ham radio and held it up like a club.

Dustin pointed a commanding finger at Mike. "Don't hurt him."

"Only if he attacks," Mike said.

"Just open it already," Lucas told Dustin nervously.

Dustin bit his lip in hesitation, but he grabbed the remote to the trap and watching the doors closely he opened the box. Dart rolled out onto his two legs and tail. In the time since they had seen him since lunch he was very noticeably larger (twice his original size), a dark green rather than pale reddish orange, and bearing a seam along his back.

"Holy shit," uttered Lucas.

As they stared down at Dart, two more legs popped out from within his body, one on either side of his tail, giving him a total of four. Red-tinged fluid spilled out onto the table from the cavities from which the legs had emerged.

Lucas jumped backward and screamed in a high-pitched voice, "Oh, shit!"

Dart screeched back a roar and Mike, throwing all caution to the wind, lunged forward to bludgeon the creature with the microphone.

"No!" Dustin cried and he leapt forward to block the blow.

Dart squealed in fear and scurried off the table in a desperate bid to escape. Sliding and stumbling across the floor, unsteady on his newfound legs, Dart ran toward the door of the room, which at that moment opened as Max succeeded at picking the lock. The creature scuttled past her into the hall.

"Oh shit!" Mike shouted.

All at once the boys ran after the creature pushing and shoving one another as they attempted to reach the door first. Losing their balance, Lucas and Dustin bowled over Max, each of them falling to the floor out in the hallway. Mike leapt over their legs looking up and down the hall for a sign of Dart.

Lucas shouted from the floor, "Where'd he go?"

"What was that?" Max wanted to know.

"Dart!" Mike yelled at her.

"What?" Max was appalled.

"You let him escape!" Mike accused her.

Dustin shoved Mike back. "Why did you attack him?"

Ignoring Dustin, Mike ran off down the hall ordering the others, "Come on."

"Don't hurt him. Don't you hurt him!" Dustin bellowed after him.

Karen was just about to enjoy a glass of wine when she noticed Nancy and Jonathan Byers slip past the kitchen toward the stairs. Quickly setting her glass down she called, "Jonathan?"

Nancy and Jonathan came whirling back around the corner and Jonathan stuttered in greeting, "Uh… Mrs. Wheeler."

Karen smiled brightly. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Yeah," he glanced at Nancy who smiled nervously then quickly said, "Uh, w-we have a test tomorrow."

Karen nodded her understanding then, looking at Nancy, she noticed she was holding a red and white striped RadioShack shopping bag.

"Oh, did you go shopping?" she asked pleasantly.

"Oh, uh, yeah. My-my Walkman broke," Nancy lied.

Jonathan scratched the back of his neck in apprehension with a muttered, "Bummer."

Karen moaned in sympathy, "Aw!"

"Anyway, we sh-we should go. It's a-it's a really big test," said Nancy.

"Yeah…" trailed Jonathan awkwardly.

"So…" Nancy waited for her mother to nod her understanding.

"Stressful," Jonathan added.

Nancy nodded. "Very."

Realizing that they were acting too suspiciously Nancy began to nudge Jonathan toward the stairs and he quickly said, "Bye, Mrs. Wheeler."

"Bye! It's good to see you," Karen said with a smile.

Once upstairs Nancy and Jonathan prepared to put their plan into action. Hugging himself anxiously, Jonathan asked, "Okay, are you sure about this?"

"No," she admitted.

She gazed up at him from her seat on the bed. A moment passed and then she turned and grabbed her phone, housing and all, and placed it on the mattress before her. Jonathan sat beside her as she picked up the handset and dialed a phone number she knew well.

Marsha Holland was sitting on her couch reading a book when the telephone on the end table beside her rang. She put her book down and answered.

"Hello. Marsha speaking." When no reply came she said again, "Hello?"

Nancy stared into Jonathan's eyes, her tongue and throat suddenly seeming stuck and her mind sluggish.

"Hello?" Marsha said over the phone again.

Finally Nancy replied, "Mrs. Holland. Hi, it's um...it's Nancy."

"Nancy?"

"I, uh...I need to tell you something. Something about Barb. About that night, I uh…"

Marsha wrapped her fingers around the cord on the phone as she listened intently, her heart stalling.

"I-I haven't been honest with you," Nancy continued. Jonathan nodded encouragingly to her as she looked up at him and she went on. "But I can't tell you here on the phone."

From within a government recording lab agents sat listening through headsets as Nancy was saying, "Meet me tomorrow, Forrest Hills Park, nine a.m. don't tell anyone. An-and don't call me back here. It's dangerous."

"Nancy, what is this?" Marsha asked in alarm.

"I just need you to trust me. Please," Nancy told her urgently.

With that, she placed the phone back onto its housing, her face scrunched in agony at knowing how shaken Mrs. Holland must be at that moment. However, as she met Jonathan's eyes a calmness washed over her. There was no going back now.

Out in one of the many dead fields scientists suited up in hazmat gowns inserted large macro-pipettes into the soil. Drawing on the levers they collected samples of the soil as others carried samples of dead fruit and vegetation to lab containers to be taken back to Hawkins lab for testing.

Owens and Hopper were watching the progress of the technicians when Owens said, "Well, you were right about these pumpkins. Some nasty stuff. And the smell…" He chuckled as he scratched his forehead. "Gee, mother of God."

Hopper began, "Alright so what exactly do you think is going on-?"

But Owens interrupted, "Well, I told you what I think. But we'll run the tests, and we'll see what comes up. In the meantime, I just need you to keep the area clear for us. I don't think it'll be more than a day or two."

"What do you want me to tell people?" Hopper asked incredulously, turning to face him.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," he said dismissively. He patted his arm and left Hopper fuming there.

"Hey, Chief, you copy?" piped Powell over the radio.

"Yeah," transmitted Hopper.

"You remember that Russian girl Murray was going on about the other day?" Powell spoke into his radio.

Hopper threw a panicked glance over at Owens. The doctor was opening his car door a few yards from him. Was he close enough to have heard?

"Yeah, well, now I'm thinking he's not so crazy after all," Powell admitted into his radio as he glanced over at where the young mother who had spoken with Eleven was holding her daughter while giving a report to Callahan.

"Stay where you are. Do not move," Hopper demanded and he quickly climbed into his truck and sped away, Owens staring after him in interest.

Outside of Hawkins Middle School the last school bus set off as Eleven stepped out from the woods into a clearing, gazing at the building where she had experienced such thrills and terror. Running up the sidewalk she came to a stop at the bike rack where she found three very familiar bikes. She stared at Mike's, remembering all the times she had ridden on it last year, her hands on his shoulders or wrapped around his waist. She walked forward and placed a hand on one of the handles feeling tears brim at the edges of her eyes. She was closer to him than she had been all year. Looking up at the school a look of determination stole over her and she headed inside.

Within the building Mike turned around a corner and paced quickly past a couple of students headed home his radio clutched in his hand.

Holding it up to his face he transmitted, "East is clear. No sign of Dart."

Making his way up the stairs to the second floor, Mike muttered aloud, "Where'd you go you little bastard?"

He bypassed a cross section of hallway continuing straight just as Eleven came to the same cross section from the other end of the building. She caught sight of movement in the peripheral of her eye and turning in his direction she walked down the shorter hall to the spot he had just passed. But after looking left and then right she chose to go back down the steps from where he had come, heading in the opposite direction of the one she searched for.

On the lower floor Dustin too searched through the halls, his headset sitting over his cap. He passed Mr. Clarke as the teacher left for the day. He grinned and gave him a two finger salute and received a solemn salute in return. Continuing on he transmitted, "West is clear, too. Will?"

"South is clear," Will announced, backing out of a classroom. "Lucas? Anything?"

Lucas, coming to the last classroom in the wing he searched, leapt up and kicked the door hard. As he landed on his feet just within the threshold of the room its sole occupant hollered, "Excuse me! Mr. Sinclair!"

Stammering apologetically he said, "I-I'm so sorry. I-I was looking for study hall. Uh, bye."

Turning away he informed the others, "Nothing here, man."

Mike entered through the gymnasium doors and glanced around the court for a sign of Dart when he noticed the door to the locker rooms swinging shut. With more than a little apprehension, he headed toward the door. He slowly made his way throughout the room. He picked up a mop sitting against the wall and held it out in front of him, ready to defend himself if anything were to attack. He searched along the floor and in each of the cubby slots when suddenly he heard objects clattering on the other side of the cubbies. Taking a deep breath he gathered his courage and leapt around to the other side with a shout.

Max spun around with a cry of shock, her skateboard tucked under her arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded angrily.

"What are you doing? Why are you in here?"

"I'm looking for Dart."

"This is the boy's room."

"Yeah, so?" she said carelessly.

"So you should go home," he told her furiously. He dropped the mop so that the handle clattered to the floor as he turned to leave.

Max stormed after him. "Why do you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you. How can I hate you? I don't even know you," Mike said dismissively.

"Yeah but you don't want me in your party," she pointed out.

"Correct."

"Why not?" she shouted.

Mike spun around and spat vehemently, "Because you're annoying." And ignoring the hurt look that flashed in her eyes he added, "Also, we don't need another party member. I'm our paladin, Will's our cleric, Dustin's our bard, Lucas is our ranger, El's our mage."

"El? Who's El?" asked Max.

Mike pulled up short as he realized his mistake. "Someone. No one."

"Someone or no one?" she persisted.

"She was in our party a long time ago. She moved away, okay?" he replied impatiently, turning to walk away.

"She was a mage?" Max set her skateboard onto the court and stepped up, gliding past him as she asked. "Well, what could she do? Like, magic tricks or something?"

Then, hopping off her board she suggested, "Well, I could be your zoomer."

"That's not even a real thing," Mike rejected.

"It could be," she hopped back onto her board and glided around him in a smooth circle. "See? Zoomer."

"Mind-blowing," he said dispassionately.

"Come on, you know you're impressed."

Outside the gymnasium, El passed by, weary from her search and beginning to feel as if she were walking in circles. Suddenly, she heard a faint voice saying, "I don't see any tricks. You're just going around in a circle."

"If it's so easy, you try it."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know how."

Eleven peered back around the corner at the gymnasium doors. Though she wasn't comprehending what was being said she knew that one of the voices speaking belonged to Mike.

"So then you admit it's kind of impressive."

"I think if I spent, like, all day practicing, I could do that," Mike said.

"I would give you a million bucks if you could."

Slowly, Eleven approached the doors.

"Okay you're making me dizzy. Please just stop."

"I'll stop when I join your party."

"Come on, just stop," griped Mike.

"It's a simple question. Am I in or out?"

Coming to the door Eleven peered through the window and spotted Mike standing at the far end of the court. He had a slight smile on his face and El's heart lurched with joy at the sight of him. It was like a great weight being lifted off her. However, that weight returned in double as her eyes settled on the girl who spun around him on a slim board. The girl was smiling and had red hair and Eleven decided immediately that she did not like her. Watching her, El wanted to wipe the smile off her face and so with a twitch of her head the board the girl stood on jerked out from under her feet. The red-haired girl fell hard to the ground with a painful grunt.

Mike instantly concerned at the hard-sounding impact crouched down beside Max, exclaiming, "Jesus! Are you alright?"

Sore and embarrassed, Max replied, "Yeah, yeah. I think so."

She took his offered hand and Mike helped her back to her feet as he asked, "What happened?"

Eleven watched as he pulled her up, her eyes lingering on his hand clasped around the girl's. Anguished tears began to fill her eyes and she suddenly felt very lonely.

"I don't know. It was like a magnet or something pulling on my board," Max shook her head, her face red and knowing that Mike probably wouldn't believe her. "I know that sounds crazy."

Yet, Mike didn't think it sounded crazy at all. Slowly, he glanced back toward the gym doors where he glimpsed an empty hallway through its windows. Hope brimming inside him he began walking toward the exit, eventually breaking out into a run and bursting into the hall. But there was no one and Mike felt himself deflate in disappointment.

Joyce paced in her dining room her phone between her ear and shoulder as she held the two drawings in her hands, comparing them again and again.

"Come on, come on, come on!" She griped impatiently as she waited for someone to answer the line.

A secretary answered the phone. "Hawkins Middle, can I help you?"

'Yes, hi Doris. It's Joyce. Uh, Joyce Byers," she replied quickly.

With an annoyed glance at her co-worker Doris pointed at the phone and mouthed 'Joyce.'

"Uh, Will has AV club today. Could you transfer me to Mr. Clarke?"

"Mr. Clarke? Huh. You know what?" Doris said.

"What?" asked Joyce urgently.

"I just saw him leave for the day. Maybe AV was canceled?"

"What?" Joyce repeated, appalled.

"Would you like me to-" But Doris cut off when the line abruptly went dead.

Within seconds, Joyce Byers had grabbed her keys, left her house and climbed into her car, starting it and speeding out of her driveway with no other thought but to get to Will.

Back at the school Will entered a boys' bathroom. As he walked past the sinks and graffiti-covered walls he heard a low chittering. He slowly followed the sounds to the last stall where he found Dart crouched low in the corner by the toilet, cowering in the shadows.

Carefully, raising his radio he transmitted, "Guys...I found him."

"Where?" came Dustin's reply.

"In the bathroom by Mr. Salerno's," Will informed.

"Copy that," Mike said.

Will stared down at the frightened creature and he felt a pang of pity.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you," he told Dart quietly.

But suddenly Dart tipped his head back and let out a screeching roar that so reminded Will of the roar of the Demogorgon that had hunted him last year.

In horror he dropped his radio and fled out into the hall. Coming to a halt he felt the air grow cold and the lights began to flicker. Soon the hallway became dark, and frozen, with dead vines and flurries floating everywhere. Tendrils of dense black, shadowy smoke slid out from around the corner and he immediately turned and ran in the opposite direction fleeing the shadows. Unable to help himself, he kept glancing over his shoulder terrorized by how fast the shadows were gaining on him. He pumped his arms and willed his legs to go faster. Bursting out the door of the school entrance he ran out into the dead world of the Upside Down.

Back in the bathroom where Dart was hiding, Dustin busted through and wildly searched the stalls one by one until he came upon Dart still crouched in the shadow of the last toilet. He grinned in relief and greeted the small creature, "Hey, buddy."

Dart chittered in response and Dustin bent down holding his hands out.

"Come here. You know I won't hurt you." Dart scuttled forward gratefully and leapt up into his hands. "It's okay. It's just me. You're okay."

Hearing Mike in the distance Dustin spun around in alarm. Glancing down at Dart, he quickly removed his headset and hat, placed him atop his curly hair and covered him with his hat, saying, "Stay low. Keep quiet."

Max, Mike and Lucas burst into the bathroom and Mike asked, "Where's Dart?"

But Dustin merely shook his head with an innocent look on his face and said, "I don't know. Not here."

"What?" said Mike enraged and he began to check the stalls.

"He said by Salerno's right?" fact-checked Max.

"Yeah," Dustin replied nonchalantly. "Maybe Will has him."

Distracted from his search of the stalls Mike turned to peer at Dustin and asked in a serious tone, "Where is Will?'

As Will ran from the shadows he suddenly thought of Bob and the story from that morning about Mr. Baldo.

"Only this time, I didn't run," Bob had said.

Bob said the nightmares had gone away when he had forced himself to turn and face them. And through his terror Will realized that the nightmare would never be over if he refused to stop running. He would always be haunted by the shadows of his fears. Unless he showed them that he was braver and stronger than them. Just as Bob had done with Mr. Baldo. Will's pace began to slow until eventually his feet came to a stop.

"This time I stood my ground," Bob had told him.

The monster wasn't real. It was just the shadows of his trauma bearing down on him. Trying to sweep him away until there was nothing left of his sanity. Well, he refused to give in without a fight.

Breathing heavily, his heart thundering, Will turned to face the shadows. He willed himself to believe that he was strong and brave. He reminded himself that it was just a nightmare, just a dream. Not real. All in his head.

His breaths came out in shudders and he stood shivering before the monstrous creature as it rose high into the air above the dead version of his school. Though it had no eyes he knew it was looking at him.

He remembered Bob's words. "I said, 'Go away, go away!'"

The Shadow monster stretched a twisting tendril of smoke out toward him and Will began his chant.

"Go away. Go away!" As he screamed his rebuke, the words tore from his lungs. "Go away! Go away! Go away!"

Tears streamed down his face, chills covered his body, his heart pounded and his breath was frozen but he continued to scream with everything that he had. "Go away!"

But rage though he did the tendril continued to reach toward him, a whirling cyclone that encircled and encased him in its violent winds. And before he knew it the shadow flew through him, into every porous opening, filling every part of his mind and body until he didn't know where he began or it ended.

He could see Bob asking him, "Easy-peasy, right?"

He heard is answer, "Easy-peasy."

But he could not reach them. He could not make them understand.

"Just like that," Bob snapped his fingers.

Will did not know who he was, or where he was. There was only the shadow and a black, black world.