1984
Eddie cupped a had over his lighter, protecting its flame from the bitter November wind as he brought it up to the cigarette in his mouth. The paper caught, and he took a long drag before turning his head to exhale. He sat in the back of his van with the doors open, his legs stretched across the floor. He knew he should slow down with the cigarettes, but it was cold out and there was still a rotten odor hanging around the town. Well, this side of town, anyway. Within smelling distance of the farms. "Blight," was the word on the news. It sounded almost as bad as "curse," which was the word Eddie heard around the trailer park, even sometimes from Wayne when he was a couple beers in. It had been a weird year, that much was sure. A really bad year for some people. But Eddie doubted that Hawkins was interesting enough to be actually cursed. If there was such a thing as being "actually cursed," which he also doubted.
Pulling another drag, Eddie watched the silhouettes moving behind the windows of Benny's. Someone had broken into the abandoned diner a few weeks ago, and now the wilder socs had started using it as a party spot. He could have gone in, if he wanted. That particular crowd valued his services too much to give him any real shit, but he'd rather stay outside. He preferred to make them come to him. He was never comfortable at parties, anyway. He always stood out, and never quite caught on to the fun that everyone else seemed to be having. Just wasn't worth it. Besides, he didn't really like the thought of going into Benny's. Not after what happened in there.
Something rustled nearby and Eddie looked to the treeline, his gaze sweeping back and forth until he spotted a shadow moving low to the ground. A raccoon, or a big cat, maybe. It was too dark to see. The shadow stilled, and its eyes, reflecting orbs of pale light, turned towards Eddie.
"Bum a smoke?" A guy appeared from behind the van door, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.
Caught off guard, Eddie covered his surprise by grabbing the packet of cigarettes off the floor and holding it out. The guy took one and pulled a lighter out of his pocket. When the flame illuminated his face, Eddie recognized new-guy Billy. "Scary Billy," as Gareth referred to him.
"Thanks," Billy nodded, the tip of his cigarette glowing orange.
"Sure," Eddie replied, shifting slightly in place to wake up his legs, just in case. Trouble radiated off of Billy. It was obvious, hovering around him like a cloud of cheap cologne. It made Eddie wary, but only just. He carried his own cloud around town, after all.
Billy stood still, his head tilted slightly back as if he was looking at the moon or the stars as he smoked. Apparently, he wasn't in the mood to talk. This was fine with Eddie, who tried to watch Billy without obviously staring at him. He thought he could still see traces of the cuts and bruises on his face that had appeared a couple weeks ago, not long after he'd arrived in town. Harrington had also been bloodied at the same time, Eddie had noticed. Well, everyone had noticed. Even the Hellfires had speculated with each other over who had started it, and who had finished it between them. Odds were on Billy for both. Eddie did wonder, briefly, what the story was there, but had decided it was probably nothing more than two dudes locking antlers on a matter of pride. Or a girl, maybe.
Last year, too, Harrington had shown up at school with a spectacular shiner, reportedly given to him by Jonathan Byers. Word was the fight had been about Nancy Wheeler, which caused Jeff to sigh despondently over his lunch tray. However, Eddie didn't see any animosity between Byers and Harrington after that, not even when Steve and Nancy became an item (which he remembered happening because the news wreaked havoc on Jeff's ability to focus on their game, causing his character to die an ignoble death), so he doubted if it were true. If anything, the two seemed like they were on good terms afterwards, almost friends, which had seemed weird enough for even Eddie to notice. Anyway, the point was that Steve Harrington throwing fists around over nothing important had happened before, and would probably happen again.
Billy's voice broke through Eddie's thoughts.
"Kill 'em all."
"Sorry?" Eddie had to swallow hard not to cough out his smoke.
"Metallica. Kill 'Em All," Billy repeated, pointing to one of the tapes in the open plastic bag near Eddie's feet. "I've got that one, too."
"Oh, yeah," Eddie said, half-laughing at himself. "Just picked it up today. I mean, I've heard some of it already, but not all the way through yet."
"It's good," Billy nodded. "You'll like it."
"Yeah, I figured it had to be good, from what I'd heard." He and Billy nodded at each other, and pulled from their cigarettes.
"This town is a real piece of shit, isn't it." Billy sounded bored.
"Yeah," Eddie replied, flicking ash onto the ground. "Sure is."
"You're not from here either, are you?" Half of Billy's mouth twisted up. It was almost a smile, but more of a sneer.
"Nope. Been here," Eddie used his thumb to scratch between his eyes while he thought, "four years? About five now, I guess."
"I've been here less than five weeks. I don't know how you stand it." Billy's movements were getting a bit more animated, almost twitchy.
"So leave, man." Eddie kept his tone cool. "That's what cars and cash are for, right?"
"Damn right. Soon as I save up enough-" Billy made a popping sound with his lips, and then chuckled. It was a weird laugh. Billy seemed like a weird guy, actually. But Eddie knew he seemed like a weird guy, too, and laughed along.
"Why haven't you left yet?" It almost sounded like a threat, the way Billy said it.
"Well, first of all, I just spent all my money on this." Eddie made a sweeping gesture that took in the van. "Otherwise I wouldn't be…catering this soiree. Gotta earn up, man." Then, before he thought better of it, added, "Anyway, I promised my uncle I'd graduate high school." Now it was Eddie's turn for an ugly chuckle. "Haven't managed that, yet."
"Your uncle?" Billy picked something off the tip of his tongue. "Not your old man?"
"Definitely not my old man," Eddie said with the cigarette in his mouth.
"Yeah?" Another odd laugh from Billy. "Why's that?"
"Not around." Eddie was proud of the way his voice sounded like he didn't care. "Got himself locked up. Deserved it, too."
"You're lucky, then." Billy pointed the glowing end of his cigarette close to Eddie's face.
"I know," he replied without flinching. While Eddie wasn't exactly thrilled with the way his life had turned out so far, he had enough brains to know that it could be infinitely worse, and probably would've been if he were still living with his dad.
Billy nodded, threw the smoked stub into the gravel and pressed it under his heel.
"See ya 'round," he said, already turning away.
"Yeah," Eddie answered, watching him stride back to Benny's. A pocket of raucous sound escaped as Billy disappeared through the door.
Eddie finished his smoke in silence. A shadow that might have been a big cat or a raccoon watched him with pale, glowing eyes.
Eddie saw Billy a lot over the next few months, but never talked to him again. He was around school, of course, but also at the parties he stopped by, and even once at the Hideout. From the stage, Eddie spotted Billy at the bar getting cozy with a peroxide babe maybe twice his age. He was hard to miss. And always that sense of trouble, humming around him. It was probably why Eddie kept his distance. Besides, he'd also noticed the little redhead girl – obviously a sibling by the way they spat at each other – trailing after him in the school parking lot. It made Eddie nervous, seeing someone so small caught in the wake of so much trouble. Something bad was waiting to happen there, and Eddie didn't want to be around when it did.
1986
Wherever the sirens were going, it wasn't to Rick's place. After a few minutes, Eddie got out from under the tarp. A quiet hour of staring at the lake, and he started to feel like it would be alright to leave the boathouse. Mostly because it was probably safe enough, but also because he might lose his mind if he didn't get out of there. He looked through all the windows first, scanning the area for any signs of life, then did the same from a crack in the door. When he went, he went slowly, trying to be stealthy without looking like he was sneaking around, just in case anyone saw. The plastic bag holding the remaining groceries from his early morning visitors crinkled as he stepped up to the house, but he had his multi-tool at the ready and was through the door in a jiffy.
After listening to the water lapping against the slip for so long, the silence of the empty house felt strange. Dropping the groceries on the counter and puttering around the kitchen, he began muttering nonsense to himself and humming whatever bars of music floated into his head. Anything to keep actual, coherent thoughts at bay. He peeled off his jacket and placed it on the back of a chair, stepped out of his shoes with relief. When he held his hand under the kitchen tap and felt the water turn warm, he jogged to the bathroom. Sure enough, there was hot water in the shower. Rick must've paid his gas and electric bills in advance. He was a business man, after all.
Draping his shirt and shorts over the curtain rod in the hopes that they might catch some steam, Eddie stepped under the spray from the shower head. The water was hot, almost unbearable, but Eddie didn't move away. He let it wash over him, turning his skin lobster-red and sending pins and needles all over his body. He tried to scrub himself and clean his hair with the dried-up, gray piece of soap that had been left on the corner of the tub, but it barely produced any lather. Still, he felt a little more human by the time he turned off the water and stood on the bathmat in the cloudy room. He hadn't thought to look for real towels, so he dried himself with the hand towel by the sink before slipping on his shirt and shorts, and – not ready to get fully dressed yet – picking up his socks and jeans. Still humming and muttering to keep himself company, he shuffled down the hall to the living room, dropped his clothes to the floor, and flopped, face down, onto the couch.
He thought he would sleep, but he didn't, only spun and shifted around, trying and failing to relax. Maybe he would only be able to sleep in boats from now on. Giving up, he went to the kitchen and ate his way through the rest of that morning's groceries, then made a half-hearted effort to clean up the place until he spotted a stack of hefty paperbacks on an end table. Choosing one with the promising title "Castle of Wizardry," Eddie dropped into a chair, started to read, and didn't stop. Eddie barely noticed the hours passing by, though he did keep an ear open for approaching or unusual noises.
He read as long as he could by daylight, then watched the sunset over the lake. It was a beautiful sight. Wayne had offered to take him fishing here, once. But Eddie had said no, and his uncle hadn't asked a second time. He regretted it, now. Not that he thought he would enjoy fishing, but it probably would have been nice to sit out on the water for a while. Maybe there would be time later, once all this was over.
"All this." A girl was ripped apart in your home and you just want "all this" to be over? Coward.
Eddie needed a distraction. Closing himself in the windowless bathroom, he turned on the light and read for several more hours until the words turned blurry and his neck ached. Careful to turn off the light before he opened the door, Eddie moved into the bedroom. He lay on top of the covers, and just as he realized that he had never put his jeans on, fell asleep.
Something screamed. Wrenched awake, Eddie flailed in the dark.
"Chrissy!?" His panicked call echoed off the bare walls of the bedroom. The scream came again from outside, shrill and pitiful. Almost human, but now Eddie could hear that it was animal. A small creature wailing out an alarm as it died, trapped in the claws of a predator.
Chrissy, wake up now!
Eddie curled on his side and pressed his hands against his ears. He remembered the first time he had heard something like that, not long after he'd moved into the trailer. Used to city noises and confused by country sounds, Eddie had shaken his uncle awake early one morning because of what he could only guess was the horrible scream of a child being either kidnapped or murdered.
"It's a rabbit, Eddie." Wayne had said, husky-voiced and annoyed, but gentle in his way. "Owl or a hawk's probably got it. It's just nature, kid," he added, noticing Eddie's distress. "That's the way it is." Not much comforted, Eddie went back to his room and turned up his radio as loud as it would go.
Now, Eddie waited a few minutes, listening to his own breathing, before taking his fingers out of his ears. The surge of adrenaline left him alert and queasy. The sun wasn't out yet, but he got up and pulled on his jeans, just in case Henderson and his group showed up with more food or news.
They didn't. No one came in the morning, midday, or afternoon, and the day passed much as the one before. He cleaned himself, tried to wash his clothes, read as much as he could–slowly making his way through "Castle of Wizardry" and "Magician's Gambit"–and occasionally moving around the house talking and singing to himself. The only real difference from yesterday was the lack of fresh food. His stomach growled often, and occasionally his head spun. There was a bowl of fake fruit on the kitchen counter. Every time he saw it, he wanted to chuck it into the lake for mocking him. He was almost glad of his hunger, though, because it gave him something else to think about besides the amount of trouble he was really in. He watched the sun set again and thought about Wayne some more. Maybe, if he learned how to fish, he would find something to like about it.
While sitting in the gloom, wondering how much time was too much time without hearing from Henderson, the tell-tale sound of tires on gravel crunched close by the front door. Eddie dove to crouch below the front window frame, raising his head just enough to peek out. It was Harrington, stepping out of his Beemer and sweeping his gaze side to side. As he started to walk toward the boathouse, Eddie tapped twice on the window. Harrington paused, giving Eddie enough time to move to the door and open it a crack.
"Steve. In here," he hissed.
Harrington flinched as he spun around. It was too dark to tell, but Eddie suspected that he was on the receiving end of a dirty look. The passenger's side of the car opened, and Robin from band stepped out. Eddie held the door open as the two hurried in.
"Hey," said Steve under his breath, "is this a good idea, staying in here?"
"I don't know, man," Eddie replied, shrugging.
"Whatever, dude." Harrington sounded annoyed, almost angry.
"Ok, I can't see anything," piped Robin.
"There are no windows in the bathroom," Eddie volunteered. "I can turn on the light in there, and I think we will all fit." No one answered, so he turned and walked away, assuming the other two would follow.
It was awkward, the three of them filing into the small bathroom. No one said anything as the door was closed and the lights turned on. Eddie shut the lid of the toilet and sat on it, Robin perched on the edge of the tub, and Steve leaned against the door. Now that he could see them, Eddie knew something was wrong. Robin was dressed like a substitute teacher for some reason, and her face was streaked with makeup that had melted down her cheeks. Harrington's face was gray. A smell of sweat wafted from him, and there was a constant tremor jittering his hands.
"Something happened," Eddie said, not bothering to make it a question.
"Henderson said you should have this," Steve replied loudly, pointing at something in Robin's hands. "Robin, give him the thing."
"Oh yeah." Robin produced something from the bundle of clothes pressed against her chest. "It's a walkie-talkie," she said, handing the plastic brick to Eddie. "Dustin said it's already set to the right frequency, so don't move the dials, and the batteries are full, so keep it on. If you press down that button when you talk," she pointed, "Dustin should be able to hear you."
"And where is Dustin?" Eddie's eyes moved from Robin to Steve, whose hands hadn't stopped twitching.
"He's with Nancy at the Wheeler's," Steve answered. "All the kids are there. Together."
"They'll be fine," added Robin.
Eddie raised his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't they be fine?" An unpleasant silence stretched as Robin looked at Steve, who watched his shoes.
"It's Vecna. He's out hunting people. He's killed before, I guess, in the past, which we don't totally understand yet, but the problem right now is that he's actively cursing people, and killing them."
"Did someone else die?" Eddie's voice wavered as he imagined the worst. Wayne? One of his Hellfires?
"Fred." When Eddie shook his head, Robin swiped one finger across her cheek. "You know Fred, from the school paper?"
Eddie didn't know Fred from the school paper. Maybe his relief at the news of another kid's death made him a bad person, but he couldn't help it. He nodded for Robin to go on, because it seemed like there was more that she needed to say. Something worse.
"And Max." Robin's words accelerated before Eddie could interrupt. "Max has been cursed, too. She's not dead! He tried to kill her. He tried, but she's not dead. She's alive. She's with Nancy, and Dustin, and Lucas, and we're going to figure out how to get her un-cursed. Right? That's what we're going to do, Steve."
Steve didn't say anything, even though Robin looked at him with desperate hope shining out of her eyes.
"You saved her?" The hard edge of disbelief in Eddie's voice surprised even himself. "Vecna tried to kill Max, and you saved her?" The question sounded like an accusation. What is wrong with you?
"No," Steve answered, his eyes reproachful. With a sudden jerk, he opened the door.
"The light!" Robin hissed. Steve stepped out and shut the door behind him. Robin rubbed a hand across her face, smearing makeup every which way.
"Is he leaving?" Eddie asked, worried for her.
"Not without me," she replied. "He just needs a minute alone, I think. He was with the kids when it happened, with Max. 'She had to save herself,' he said. He feels like he didn't do anything. They did help her, though. Nancy and I thought – God, it's a long story. I can't explain everything now, but Nancy and I thought there might be a way to fight Vecna, keep him from taking over your mind, if you could listen to music while he was in there."
"Music?"
"Yeah. Music seems to sort of, um, cut through the things Vecna does to people's minds, you know."
"No, I don't know." Eddie wished he sounded less like a toddler on the verge of a tantrum and more like an adult, but Robin either didn't notice or didn't care about his tone.
"Oh, right, You weren't there for that. Sorry. Well, it seems like Vecna is targeting people with trauma, and, like, using their bad thoughts against them. Sort of trapping people in their own nightmares before he kills them. God, what an asshole. Anyway, music makes it easier, we think, for people to remember theirselves, and to get out of his trap. A lifeline back to reality. It worked for Max, anyway. That's how she escaped."
Robin stopped talking, but Eddie didn't know what to say. He couldn't wrap his head around everything she had told him. He must have looked as confused as he felt.
"I'm sorry," Robin went on, now at a slower pace. "It's hard to explain all this, and I didn't do a very good job. Nancy will do it better, the next time we're all together. We'll figure it out, okay?"
"Okay," he said, even though nothing was okay.
"Okay," she repeated. "I should go."
"Yeah." Eddie stood up, and waited for Robin to find her feet before switching off the light and opening the door. In the hall he felt her hesitate, so he put his hand on her upper arm and guided her through the dark. The house was familiar territory to him, and even though they didn't have far to go, she didn't know the way. It was strange, touching another person after spending so much time alone. Robin moved with uneven strides, and the muscles in her arm twitched against his hand. He wished he had something to offer her to help take the edge off. Hell, he wished he had something for himself to take the edge off.
"So," she said softly as they walked. "Remember to leave your walkie-talkie on, and always keep it nearby. Use it if, you know, if something happens, or if you need anything." He kept his hand around her arm as they both peered through the window by the door. A tall shadow leaned against the car parked outside.
"Hey, um," she turned to face him, and took his arm in her free hand so that they stood in a distant, half-hug. "Chrissy's funeral is tomorrow. I just thought you should know."
Eddie nodded wordlessly. She squeezed his arm once, and their hands fell away from each other at the same time. Robin slipped out the door and moved quickly to Steve, who put her into the car and didn't look back as he got into the driver's seat. As the Beemer rolled away, Eddie stood alone in the quiet house. Up in the darkening sky, a hawk glided above the trees. Eddie turned away from the window before it dove.