Beginning of the End

Nancy

This time was different from the last—from their first. This kiss was less tentative and nervous. It was less fleeting. There was power and emotion and, underneath it all, a raw desire that stoked the passion in them both. When Nancy kissed Jonathan this time, he held her closer, wove his fingers through her rain-dampened hair and pressed his injured hand into the small of her back, pulling her into him.

The cabin was full of the humming bass of rainwater washing down overhead, the soft rustle of Nancy's fingers, drawing across Jonathan's shirt, the rhythmic breathing they shared and Nancy's heartbeat, like a gentle metronome, keeping time in a moment that lasted an eternity.

This time was different from every other kiss Nancy had ever experienced, from the awkward fumblings of adolescence to her relationship with Steve. They paled in comparison to the kinetic energy and perfect synchrony that blossomed in the dusky seclusion of that abandoned cabin. And when their connection reached a feverish pitch and Jonathan drew away for a breathless second, Nancy knew that she'd fallen into the beginning of something new and amazing.

Nancy opened her eyes—clear and startlingly blue, even in the stormy darkness—to see Jonathan staring back. His eyes—a dark, shadowy hazel—held her speechless. Their bodies were still pressed together, their faces inches apart, but neither made a move to release the other and in the utter captivity of his arresting stare, Nancy realized, both suddenly and hesitantly, that she loved him.

As if consumed with the same rushing emotion, Jonathan finally whispered, "I don't want you to leave."

For all the romantic confessions she could have chosen, Nancy could only manage a weak, "I don't want to go," in response. And, unbidden, tears pooled along the ridges of her eyes.

Jonathan pulled his hand from the chestnut curls of her ponytail and brushed his thumb softly against her cheek, wiping away the single tear that had dropped. In his expression she saw how much her pain wrecked him and leaned forward to do the one thing that could stop her from seeing her own anguish reflected in his face. But before their lips met, an electric current raced up the length of her scar and, simultaneously, a bolt of lightning filled the black sky, flooding the woods with a blinding light.

Nancy jumped back, breaking away from Jonathan. She was staring out the window, ignoring the tiny shocks that continued to dance up and down her back.

"What is it?" Jonathan asked. He turned, looking over his shoulder through the window. But the light had faded again and in the gloom, everything was a murky grey.

Nancy wanted to ignore it, to pretend she hadn't seen anything, but she couldn't. She reached out and grabbed Jonathan's uninjured hand. "We have to leave," she said, darkly. Clenching her jaw, she numbed her mind to the exquisite currents that continued to travel the strip of scarred flesh along her back. "We have to run, now."

Jonathan didn't ask. He didn't have to. He saw her expression, read the note of urgency in her voice and rushed out the door into the thunderous downpour. "Where is it?" he asked, whipping his head left and right.

Nancy braced herself, planting her feet squarely and turned her head slowly, like the arrow of a compass, listening, feeling for its movement. She stopped, face pointing toward the path they'd taken earlier. She felt its presence, like a familiar pulse of light in a night sky—always there, but only visible when the sun set. Her eyes fluttered open and the pupils constricted in the darkness. "There," she said simply. Her fingers squeezed protectively over Jonathan's as the feeling of a presence manifested itself into a looming black form.

The Demogorgons had come.

"Run!" they cried to each other in unison, turning from the path and launching into the woods. The trees whipped past, inky black from the rain, branches hanging heavily in front of them. Leaves underfoot were golden yellow as they drove forward, cutting a swath through the heavy mist that rolled, eerily, from the sun-warmed soil.

Nancy's feet barely skimmed the earth as she darted ahead and every push seemed to launch her further and faster than Jonathan. She heard single raindrops in a storm of millions, the individual creak of tree branches, bowing to the storm. She felt the staggering charge of lightning roiling above them and the thundering steps of their pursuer as it blindly drove ahead.

They ran and they ran. They flew through thickets of spindly branches that clung to their clothes and leapt over rotten logs, crumbling into the soil. They ran until their hair swung in heavy, wet ropes and their clothes clung to their sweating bodies. Their shoes sunk with each step into the mud and the rain, and still they ran, darting around trees and scrambling over boulders.

Nancy's fingers strained to keep hold of Jonathan's while she flew through the woods. His breath came in wet gasps behind her and his gate flagged until he stumbled. Nancy stopped. Nearby she heard the cascading rush of a river. They'd made enough distance that they could rest. The Demogorgon, though still on the hunt, was far enough that Nancy felt safe stopping for a moment.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Jonathan was doubled over, catching his breath. As it evened out, he looked up at her, curiously. It wasn't until she registered his concern that she realized she wasn't winded at all. In fact, she wasn't exhausted in the slightest. The only nuisance she'd been tolerating was the annoying tingle that continued to ripple up and down her scar.

Biting her lip, she held out her hand to hold Jonathan's again. The rain was letting up slightly. It was still heavy, but not a storm. Even as she thought that, Nancy watched lightning fork across the sky in the distance.

Hand-in-hand, they walked forward, still trying to put distance between them and the Demogorgon. Nancy wanted to run again—to flee until the monster lost interest—but Jonathan couldn't keep up. He needed a minute to catch his breath and relax his muscles. In the meantime, Nancy concentrated on the looming presence in the distance. She felt it stalking toward them—a half-mile away. Maybe less? They'd gained distance, but they needed to keep moving. She bottled that urgency and walked evenly with Jonathan, toward the rushing river.

Shortly, the edge of a steep ledge appeared. An unexpected, but gorgeous weeping willow grew next to the ridge, its sweeping branches hanging so low as to almost skim the river's surface fifteen feet below. Jonathan and Nancy approached the edge and looked over. Below, the water rushed downstream. The river was swollen from the rain and white froth built up around eddies and rippling peaks. It moved fast, but, Nancy thought, not dangerously fast. And it was deep—deep enough for them to jump. On the other side, there was no ledge, just a gradual bank that they could swim to. But it was a wide river—thirty yards? Maybe forty?

In the back of her mind she felt the tug of a dangerous presence. The Demogorgon was gaining. They didn't have time to stand around. They had to escape and they needed a fast route. Nancy intertwined her fingers with Jonathan's. "We can swim," she said.

Jonathan looked at the river dubiously. "Really?" he asked. She still heard the breathlessness in his voice. But they could rest as soon as they got away.

Ignoring the persistent electric tingling along her scar, she replied, "Yes, it's not too fast." She squeezed his fingers and tugged him closer to her, turning her back on the river and facing Jonathan. "All we have to do is let it take us a little downstream while we swim to the other side. It's easy," she said. "I promise."

Nancy took a step back, placing herself dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Below, the water promised an escape. She knew he was looking over her shoulder, calculating the distance. "You can swim this?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of the river.

The presence tugged at the back of her mind again. They were almost out of time. "Yes," she insisted. She could see his hesitation, feel his fear. "My parents enrolled me in swimming classes when I was young," she explained quickly. Jonathan met her gaze and nodded. "I've been swimming for over ten years," she continued. She could help him across. She knew she could. There was a strength and drive brimming in her that she couldn't explain. She just needed him to jump. "I can do this," she said firmly.

The Demogorgon was almost there. She could hear its footsteps. They were out of time.

It was now or never.

Jonathan nodded and a committed looked passed over his face. "Swim," he said simply.

Nancy's heart dropped. She grasped for his hand, but it was already slipping through her fingers. She moved in slow motion, reaching desperately for him, but seeing, almost presciently, what he was doing. "Jonathan, no—," she pleaded as his hand, lightning-fast, turned palm-up and he pressed his fingers against her breastbone.

He whispered, "I'll find you," before the sharp, solid push cast her over the edge and she was helplessly swallowed by the impassive rush of icy water.