Day 4

Dustin

The Hendersons' car was parked exactly where it was last night. That wasn't the problem. The problem was Officer Powell's cruiser, which was not exactly where it had been the night before. Now it was double parked next to Dustin's parents' sedan and was effectively blocking the boys from boosting the car and getting to Hawkins.

Dustin ripped his hat off and threw it angrily in the dirt. "Son of a bitch!" he cried. Nothing was going right for them. First he couldn't get away from his parents, then Troy started tailing them, laughing about Lucas and now the car was blocked.

"What are we going to do?" Will asked, staring hopelessly at the cruiser.

"Maybe we can get Officer Powell to move his car?" Mike suggested.

"Yeah?" Dustin asked sarcastically. "You don't think that's going to seem even a little suspicious?"

Mike slumped against the cruiser and sighed. "I don't know."

"We're running out of time," Dustin huffed. He bent over to pick up his hat as the rain began falling. "Oh great," he said, squinting up at the sky.

"Can you drive in the rain?" Mike asked, bowing his head as fat droplets fell.

Dustin scoffed. "Hello? Windshield wipers?" he said. "But it doesn't matter. We can't get my parents' car out of here." He stuffed the keys back into his pocket. "We need another car or we're out of luck."

Will, who'd been looking thoughtfully down the line of parked cars, spoke up. "What about Jonathan?" He turned to Dustin and Mike, continuing, "We don't need to steal a car. I've been thinking about it and… I think Jonathan would take us to Hawkins." He ignored the other boys' skeptical stares and added, "If we explain why we want to go back. I think he'd take us."

The skies opened up then and rain began coming down in drenching sheets. All three boys hunched over identically. "Are you sure?" Mike yelled over the storm's downpour.

Will nodded, flinging droplets of water off of his bangs. "I think so."

"Then let's go," Dustin yelled, leading the other two quickly back to the campsite.

The three boys burst into Hopper's cabin in a sopping wet mass. They stood just inside the door for a minute, blinking water out of their eyes and dripping it onto the floor. The cabin was dark in the midday gloom and the chief was walking around, lighting lamps with a half-empty book of matches in his hand. Mrs. Byers was leaned over the table, palms pressed flat against the glossy wood surface, looking at them expectantly. "Is Jonathan with you?" she asked.

Will shook his head, flinging more water to the floor. His mom disappeared for a second behind the door of her bedroom and returned holding two faded, terrycloth towels. "You're soaked," she said, handing one towel to Dustin and Mike, while draping the second over Will's head. "All of you."

"Yeah, we got caught in it for a couple minutes," Dustin explained, taking the towel from Mike and wiping water from the back of his neck.

"Jonathan isn't here?" Will asked. Mike and Dustin turned to Mrs. Byers, hopefully.

The crashing rain created a constant thrum overhead as it struck the roof and gushed over the eaves. "He left with your sister," Mrs. Byers said, nodding to Mike, "over two hours ago." She moved away from the boys and leaned against the window sill, watching the curtain of water dance across the glass. "They were just getting water."

Dustin smirked and muttered under his breath, "Sounds like they're doing more than that."

"Shut up!" Mike hissed, elbowing Dustin in the side.

The chief walked up behind Mrs. Byers and rubbed her shoulders, peering outside with a concerned frown. "It's really coming down," he said. "Hopefully they found some shelter somewhere."

Mrs. Byers rubbed her forehead agitatedly. "They should've been back by now."

Dustin smirked at Mike again.

Will, who'd been quiet as usual, peeled himself from the other two and walked further into the cabin, leaving wet sneaker prints behind him. He crossed slowly to the other window in the main room, across from his mom and Hopper. Pressing his fingers against the fogged glass, Will stared outside as an anxious crease slowly crept across his brow.

"Will?" Mike asked, stepping forward.

Dustin felt an unexplainable dread building inside. "Will, what's wrong?"

Hearing their concern, Mrs. Byers and the chief turned to see Will, still silently watching out the window. His eyes were wide and focused.

"Will, honey?" Mrs. Byers asked.

From his vantage point, Dustin could just make out the lights of Mr. Clarke's cabin. In the shadowy gloom of the storm, they shone like a beacon among the oil lamps in the other cabins. Then, suddenly, they flickered.