Steve was startled awake by his chorded desk phone emitting a high-pitched ring. His face jerked up from his pillow as he looked around to orient himself. A night of poor sleep left him feeling quite surreal. With a groan, he rolled himself over and reached toward the phone, missing it once.
"Harrington residence," he mumbled tiredly, rubbing his bare chest.
"Steve!"
"Henderson?"
"Steve, we're at Benny's again," Dustin said breathlessly.
"Well, thanks for telling me this time, I guess," he replied, gliding his fingers through his hair. He glanced over at the clock ticking at his bedside. "It's only 6:30, what the hell are you doing there this early?"
"We need you here. Now."
He paused his finger-combing.
"Everything okay?"
"No. Not at all."
That was all he needed to hear. He slammed down the phone and rushed to throw on the first shirt and pair of jeans he could get his hands on. He took a swig of mouthwash and spat it into the yard as he stormed toward his truck. The urgent, scared tone in Dustin's voice put a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He tried to massage it out as he sped toward the diner, but the closer he came, the worse it felt. The ground was still wet from yesterday's downpours, and the heavily overcast sky wouldn't be helping things anytime soon. Everything appeared hazy and gloomy, which did nothing to ease his troubled mind. He rounded the hillside corner and spotted the group of preteens by a payphone in a lot several yards down and across from the diner. He roared into a spot and came to an abrupt stop. The moment his door clicked open, the group flooded him, all shouting over each other.
"One at a time," Steve tried to say, but they were so worked up it made him sound like he was only whispering. "Stop!" he shouted, finally getting them all to hush. "Again, one at a time."
"We came here this morning to ask Benny what happened to the girl," Mike started.
"Okay, and...?"
"The place is swarming with police," Will added.
"So? They're probably dealing with a missing person case. We knew that."
"They blocked it off with crime tape," Lucas said. "The red kind."
Steve's brow raised upon hearing this.
"Seriously?"
"And the coroner's van pulled up right before we called you," Dustin concluded.
Steve's breath caught in his throat. Wide-eyed, he turned and began a quickened walk further into the lot until the diner came into view. Then he observed groups of police officers standing behind a thin strip of red tape bobbing up and down in the wind, which suddenly felt much colder. Goosebumps bubbled up on his arms, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood erect.
"Shit!" he gasped.
He jogged up the hillside, crossing the street and making his way up to the diner, with the kids trailing a ways behind. A few onlookers, who Steve assumed to be morning regulars, were standing around trying to plead for information, yet their requests went ignored as the officers talked amongst themselves. Quietly, he ventured over to the side of the building where there were fewer people.
"Stay here," he said to the group.
To his surprise, they listened. In an attempt to appear casual, as to not draw attention to himself, he threw his hands into his pockets and stepped closer to the building, his legs pushing the red tape back without technically stepping over it. The blinds inside the diner were somewhat difficult to see through. At first, Steve did not observe anything unusual apart from a few officers inside.
Then, his hazel eyes were drawn down by a blinding flash of light coming from a camera. After reorienting for a moment, his gaze landed squarely on Benny and the pool of blood on the black-and-white checkered floor. His head was covered in dark blood, and there was an obvious hole where tissue, bone, and hell knows what else had been torn apart. His dried mouth was hanging open, and his pale, lifeless eyes were looking directly into Steve's. A white cloth was then pulled over his face. Though it all happened in less than three seconds, the damage was done. Steve felt his stomach contract upward while a loud, violent wretch choked his throat. Had there been anything in his stomach to expel, it surely would have landed with a splash on the pavement in front of him. Every expletive he knew flew from his mouth in rapid succession instead.
"Steve, what is it?" Max called out.
"Don't move," he replied, swallowing another gag. "In fact, get back. Way back."
He took several hastened steps towards the group, covering his mouth and grimacing. They drew back, all of their hearts sinking in unison.
"Steve, what is it?" Dustin shouted.
"Benny's dead," he replied plainly.
One-by-one their faces paled. Will and Max's eyes immediately welled with tears, while Lucas's hands flew over his mouth.
"Wait, did you see him?" Dustin asked, though deep down he really didn't want to know.
Steve simply nodded his head, fighting back the stinging of his own tears. The group stood in silence for a time. A few embraces were made. However, no one spoke until the shock was absorbed. Only the occasional whimper or sniffle interrupted them.
"We didn't cause this... did we?" Dustin asked, his voice trembling. "By bringing that girl here?"
"No, no way," Steve interjected. "Don't even think like that."
"But where is she?" Max asked.
"And the waitress?" Will added.
"Wait here," Steve said.
"That didn't go so well last time," Dustin replied, almost in a panic as he watched Steve march off again.
He walked to the corner of the building, and after taking a deep breath, side-stepped to the other side. A couple of police officers took notice of him, though none seemed to care. Hopper, the police chief, was just pulling up and exiting his vehicle, joining the other officers. His face looked solemn and scarily serious, though that was not exactly atypical for the chief. He took down his hat and stepped into the diner. Steve questioned how he could look upon such carnage for a living, as his own stomach was still doing somersaults. He took a step back and continued to peer through the different groups of officers until he saw them.
The waitress sat on a nearby curb, with dried tear streaks staining her medium beige skin. Her dark mahogany hair was pulled into a disheveled bun, and she had a thick quilt wrapped tightly around her. Beside her was the girl who appeared unharmed, apart from some dried blood under her nose. She still wore Steve's gray jacket from the day before. Both looked frighteningly exhausted. Giving his dry lips a quick lick, Steve walked over to one of the officers.
"Hey, is it okay if I talk to her?" he asked, pointing to the waitress.
"Not right now," the officer replied.
"Please, come on, man," Steve protested. "I'm a friend. Don't you think she could use a friend right now?"
The officer sighed, giving Steve a suspicious once-over.
"Keep it brief and don't ask her any questions," he instructed.
Steve offered a curt nod and gently wandered over to where the girls were sitting. Eleven noticed him first and gave Joanna a soft nudge. When their eyes met, she stood and stepped toward him, but then drew back.
"I'm not supposed to ask you questions," he said, raising his hands halfway.
"Good, because I need a break from answering them," she replied weakly.
"I'd like to ask you if you're okay, but I'm not sure how to do that without... well... asking," he said, trying to force a smile to his own features.
The smallest of scoffs escaped her while the young girl stepped up to her side.
"I would also like to know if she is hurt," he said, gesturing to his own nose. "You know, without phrasing it as a question."
"Oh, I think that was from when we were in the freezer," Joanna replied, handing the girl a wet wipe from the pouch of her striped apron. "The air gets painfully dry in there."
"Don't tell me you had to hide out in the damn freezer," Steve said, mouth agape.
"I couldn't even tell you how long we were in there for," she answered, her expression growing blank. "I still can't bend my fingers all the way. You giving her the jacket when you did was nothing short of a miracle."
As she finished wiping her face clean, the girl's large eyes peered up to meet Steve's.
"Benny," she uttered. "Dead."
Steve's face became stone cold as his stomach leapt once more.
"So she can talk," he said, trying to keep things light.
"I've at least been able to get her name and her favorite color out of her," Joanna said, holding back another wave of tears. "Eleven, and yellow."
"Eleven... huh..." Steve replied with a fake smile.
"Eleven, this is Steve," Joanna said, bending down to her level and rubbing her back.
"Wait, you know my name?" he asked, blinking rapidly.
Her thin lips curved up into a half smile.
"Everyone from school knows your name," she answered. "Do you know mine?"
His mouth snapped shut and his eyes darted downward. He could feel a fluttering of sorts in his chest as a million and one things to say rampaged into his brain, though nothing would spare him from having to admit that he could not return to courtesy.
"It's okay," she scoffed, wrinkling her nose just a little. "I wouldn't expect you to. We were on polar opposite ends of the popularity spectrum." She rose to stand at her full height once more. "I'm Joanna."
She extended a hand, which Steve delicately shook, remembering her complaint about her fingers. He never admitted it out loud, but her skin felt noticeably dry, and her grip was a little weak. Still, she seemed to be distracted from their plight for the time being and Steve thought it wise to keep it that way. Unfortunately, as he was thinking of what to discuss next, Chief Hopper interrupted them. Steve shrunk back a little, as Hopper was aptly described as a "bear of a man" by many.
"Excuse me, young woman," he said as he approached, tossing his cigarette bud on the ground. "I need to ask you a few more questions before we finally get you both down to the station." His intense glare landed on Steve. "Care to step aside for a minute?"
Steve pursed his lips and did just that as Joanna began conversing with Chief Hopper. Steve tried not to listen, though curiosity was getting the best of him. He found a small rock to kick around and focused on the sound it made as it scraped across the pavement. Seeing that others were noticing him, however, he ceased, opting to stand as still as he could. He picked some specks from his green camouflaged shirt before his gaze was drawn to the teens standing in the distance. They all looked at him questionably. Mike even shrugged his shoulders to signal for more information. Steve put up a finger and offered a curt nod, then suddenly, his ears were caught by the conversation happening behind him.
"No, no, that's not what happened," Joanna said, her voice wavering some.
"Calm down, it's alright," Hopper reassured her. "Correct me."
"Benny called social services first," she said, setting a hand atop her head. "Then he left a message at your office immediately after."
"I got that message this morning," Hopper stated, a hint of sadness seeping into his otherwise blunted tone.
"A woman from social services and a man from the police station came in a few hours later, and that's when..." her voice became choked with emotion.
"Did you hear them identify themselves as social services and the police?" Hopper asked slowly.
Joanna simply nodded her head, wiping a tear away before it escaped her eye, her lower lip quivering. Hopper sucked in his own lips, and one of his bushy brows raised curiously.
"Are you certain one of them was with the police?"
Steve turned on his heels upon hearing this, but then tucked his head down to avoid making it obvious that he was listening.
"Yes, I'm sure!" Joanna replied emotionally. "She heard it too."
Eleven nodded her head, her tired eyes lowering to the ground.
"Okay, you both are certain," Hopper compromised, jotting something down on his notepad. "These people then killed Benny?"
They nodded their heads.
"Then you barricaded yourselves in the freezer, and they tried to get to you?"
They nodded once more.
"Did you hear them say anything?"
"I- I think they were talking, but I couldn't understand them."
"Muffled by the freezer, I'm sure."
"No, it wasn't that. I don't think they were speaking English."
Steve's brow raised. His gut told him that something was amiss, and it wasn't leftover nausea from seeing Benny's shot up corpse. The pulse on the side of his neck quickened. He briskly walked back over to the teens, hands shoved deep into his jean pockets.
"Well?" they asked in one voice.
"They're safe," Steve said, hesitating slightly, "for now."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Will asked, running a hand nervously through his bowl cut.
"Did you guys tell Hopper or any of the officers that we were here yesterday?" Steve asked.
All shook their heads.
"Good. Don't."
Seeing that Hopper had stepped over to another group of officers, Steve ventured back over to meet Joanna and Eleven. However, his ear was once more caught by Hopper's voice.
"I checked the logs multiple times," he said, his tone low and deep. "None of our officers were dispatched here last night."
Steve's mind went blank. He felt his palms beginning to sweat, and now he could feel his pulse racing in his neck and on the side of his head. He quickened his pace and marched up to Joanna.
"Something's not right," he stated plainly.
Joanna shushed him fiercely.
"Turn around," she whispered, taking Steve's arm in her hand. "Two people, a man and a woman, both in suits, haven't stopped looking at us since Hopper arrived."
He cautiously turned his head, aiming his face toward the ground while his hazel eyes glanced sideways. Sure enough, there were two individuals, a man with light brown hair and a woman with blonde, staring in their direction. Though they were in the midst of a group of officers, all talking to one another, they remained silent and fixed on Joanna and Eleven. Steve swallowed dryly.
"I know this is going to sound crazy," he whispered, forcing a smile to appear casual, "but I think we need to get you both out of here."
Joanna nodded, though she had not the strength to smile herself.
"You have a car here?" he asked.
"It's around back," she replied.
"Get to it quickly, and I'll follow behind in my truck."
"Up the hill or down?"
Steve tilted his head as he thought for a moment.
"Up. The hillside will cover you. When we feel it's safe, we'll regroup and head to the police station."
She nodded. Steve returned to the group of teens and, without saying a word, started down towards his truck, with all five teens in tow.
"Steve? Can you tell us what's going on?" Dustin asked.
"Not yet, just get in the truck," he said breathlessly. "No one in the bed, some of you are just going to have to pile in behind the seats. Am I clear?"
All nodded.
Once they were in the truck, Steve waited with bated breath, his hands repeatedly squeezing the wheel as tightly as they could.
"What's happening?" Dustin asked again, "I've never seen you like this before."
"Just... please stop talking," Steve sighed back. "It could be nothing, but I promise I'll explain later."
Back at the diner, Joanna made her way to Hopper, with Eleven following close behind. She tapped one of his broad shoulders delicately.
"Excuse me?" she said, as kindly as she could. "Would I be able to take her to use the restroom inside?"
"Can it wait until we get you to the station?" he replied.
Joanna eyed the two individuals who were continuing to stare. A sense of urgency welled up in her belly at the sight of them.
"No," she said sternly, yet kindly. "You see, I think she might be having some young lady issues and-"
"Oh God," Hopper cringed, earning an eye roll from Joanna. "Yes, just make it quick, please. I assure you, we'll be out of here soon."
"I will take her to the bathroom and we'll be right back out," Joanna said, loudly enough for several to hear.
Taking Eleven by the arm, Joanna ushered her inside. Covering the girl's eyes with her hand, she led her to the back, avoiding seeing Benny's body underneath the white sheet. She quickly grabbed her purse off a hook on the wall, and in a bit of a crouch, navigated through the kitchen until they reached the back door. She signaled for Eleven to stay put, then crept over to the small window through which see could see out into the dining room.
Sure enough, the two individuals stepped inside and wandered over to where the restroom was. They said nothing, yet Joanna could see the man nod to the woman. She put a hand into her pocket. Though she couldn't see what, it was clear she was fiddling with some kind of object. It was enough to convince Joanna to follow through with the plan to flee.
Rushing back to meet Eleven, they quietly exited from the back door. It led out to a small lot where her yellow Ford Escort sat waiting. She situated Eleven in the passenger seat, then pulled out of the lot as quietly as she could manage. Once out on the road, she looked in her rearview and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Steve's truck following behind.
"This is terribly cramped," Lucas complained, squeezed behind the driver's seat.
"Just think of it like a bad game of sardines," Max teased from the front.
"I hate sardines," Lucas winced.
"Wait, the game or the food?" Mike asked, cringing beside him.
"Both suck!"
"It's the best pizza topping," Will said, hiding his own discomfort beside Mike.
"You may be Will the Wise," Dustin said, "but you have terrible taste."
"Steve?" Max asked quietly, her bright, green eyes fixed on the rearview. "Could that be the police behind us?"
He glanced in the mirror. It was like a punch to the gut when he saw the same man and woman who had been staring at Joanna and Eleven following behind in a small black car.
"Shit!" he exclaimed. "I don't mean to alarm anyone. I don't think anything's going to happen, but as a precaution, I need you all to put your heads down. Like, right now."
Knowing Joanna would be checking her mirrors as well, he flashed his high beams twice as rapidly as he could. Sure enough, her little yellow car picked up speed as they rounded the top of the hill.
"Okay, Eleven?" she said as calmly as she could. "Can you put your head down for me, please? Stay low until we get somewhere safe."
Just as she was finishing speaking, the black car roared past Steve's truck and narrowly avoided side-swiping her car, prompting a small shriek from the older girl. The black car sped in front of hers and came to a stop. Joanna yanked the wheel to the side, slipping by them with half of her car spilling out onto the grass. Then, stomping on the gas, she roared back onto the pavement, trying her best to manage her breath.
Eleven turned to look out of the rear windshield. Joanna could hear her breathing heavily.
"It's okay, don't panic," she tried to reassure her. "Keep your head down, please."
The girl seemed to ignore her as her brow furrowed tightly.
"Eleven?"
A sudden, loud pop, followed immediately by another, jolted Joanna in her seat, a small shriek escaping from the back of her throat. Then she heard a distant screeching. From the rearview mirror, she saw that the black car behind them had stopped, with both front tires blown out beneath it. Steve narrowly avoided side-swiping the disabled car as he sped past, catching up to Joanna. They drove for another mile or so, both checking their mirrors every few seconds. At last Joanna turned onto a side road, with Steve pulling up beside her.
"To the police station?" Steve asked.
"No," Joanna replied shakily. "Whoever they are, I think they'd know to find us there."
"Shit," Steve uttered. "Where to then?"
"We need to regroup and come up with a plan somewhere we know is safe," Joanna said. "Follow me. I know somewhere we can hide out for a while."
He followed her down a couple of main roads before she turned off onto one of the many gravel roads in the area. However, after a time, she turned off onto what arguably was not even a road, barely defined by the occasional patch of pebbles and other tire marks. The deep, wooded area felt damp and cold with a sense of mystery about it. They came to what appeared to be an old, gray barn.
"Are you sure this is safe?" Max questioned.
"Not at all," Steve replied.
Joanna came to a stop and helped Eleven from the car, noticing yet another nosebleed had occurred.
"Oh, honey," she said, handing her the last of her wet napkins from her apron.
"Where are we, exactly?" Steve questioned, dragging out each syllable.
"Oh, this is just my cousin's... spot," she replied, her eyes darting about. "None of you are narc's, right?"
The kids shook their heads while Steve remained motionless. Finally, they were led to the tall barn door.
"Open up!" Joanna shouted, banging a flat hand on the door. "It's me. I need your help."
A heavy silence came over the area for a time, until at last, the sound of a lock clicking open rang out, followed by another, and then by yet several others. Unbeknownst to Joanna, the entire group had begun exchanging questionable glances at one another behind her. Finally, the door creaked open, though only enough for one dark eye to be seen on the other side of it.
"What the hell?" a male voice questioned.
"I'll explain everything," Joanna replied, raising her palms halfway, "but we need a place to hide for a while."
"You're welcome here anytime," he said, "but unless any of them are regulars here, the posse's gotta go. I mean, what are these guys, a bunch of five-year-olds?"
"Eddie!" Joanna snapped. "It's all of us or none of us. Please."
After another tense moment of silence, and a loud sigh from behind the door, he finally pulled it open, allowing everyone to step into the musty, dimly lit barn.