For a moment, everything is still – the fog clings to the ground like a heavy blanket, muffling the world around me. The faint rustle of leaves barely breaks through the thick air, and the low guttural growl of Dart rumbles somewhere in the mist, sending shivers down my spine. I press myself against the doors of the bus, my eyes trailing Steve as he moves deeper into the clearing. I clutch the lighter, the cold metal digging into my palm. The tiny grooves on the flint wheel bite into my skin, leaving marks I can't feel over the sharp adrenaline rushing through my veins. With every step Steve takes forward, I sidle to the right, my free hand bracing against the bus, carefully stepping over the bricks we laid for the barricade, ensuring my footing in case I need to run.
Steve pauses for a moment, his figure barely visible through the thick fog, as if it's swallowing him whole. I squint, following his gaze into the gray void, but I can't make out what he's seeing. Every muscle in my body tightens, bracing for something I can't even see. My feet inch forward, my eyes flicking back to the gasoline trail marker. It;s only a few steps from the safety of the bus, but it feels like miles. I roll the flint wheel once, twice, and the lighter finally sparks. I'm surprised by the steadiness of my hands, by the evenness of my breaths, and sureness of my steps.
"You can do this," I whisper, rolling my shoulders and neck, digging my feet into the ground. I inhale deeply, exhale slower, telling myself it's just like a tennis match. Be quick. Be strong.
Steve is walking backward now. I can hear his voice in the distance – calm, like he's talking to a dog. His shoulders are slightly hunched, the bat hanging low at his side, but it's his free hand I focus on. His open palm faces me – a subtle signal to wait. Steve creeps slowly, and finally, from the fog, Dart appears – moving just as slow, just as deliberate, but there's a sureness in his step that wasn't there when Dustin and I last saw him. Dart's head is lifted, the guttural clicking growing longer and lower, like he's communicating, and that's when I realize.
He's not following Steve out of curiosity. He's hunting him.
My heart beats so fiercely it feels like it's trying to escape my chest, each beat loud in my ears. I strain my eyes, scanning the fog, but it's as if the mist is playing tricks on me. The clicking from Dart cuts through the silence, sharp and unsettling, sending a chill crawling down my arms. There's more. There has to be more. I heard them that night while I was stargazing with Billy – those same guttural growls, distant, but growing closer. Now, they feel like they're everywhere.
"Steve," I whisper, barely audible over the pulse of blood rushing in my ears. He hears them too. His posture stiffens, his hand gripping the bat even tighter. His gaze is fixed now, not just on Dart, but on the creeping shadows that grow clearer with every passing second.
A knot of dread twists in my stomach as shadows rise from the fog – a shadow creeping through the haze behind Dart, another standing on the roof of an abandoned car, and one circling from behind the bus. Three. There are three more of them.
My legs tense, ready to bolt back to the bus, but I stay rooted to the spot. I can't leave Steve. I need to do something now.
"Steve!" Dustin yells, pushing open the doors to the bus, breaking the silence that has fallen over the night. "Abort! Abort!"
Steve is deeper into the clearing now but the sound of Dustin's voices forces Dart and his pack into action. Steve rolls out of the way as Dart lunges and without thinking, I flick the lighter. Its flame is small, but searing in the cold air. I drop it onto the trail of gasoline, and in an instant, a line of fire bursts to life, roaring through the clearing. The demodogs furthest away shriek, scattering back from the sudden wall of flames, but it's not enough. Dart and another are already too close, their eyes locked on Steve as he tries to escape.
"Lacy, come!" Dustin yells, waving me towards him, "You gotta get on the bus!"
"Shut the doors, Dustin." I say, nodding towards my brother, "Trust me."
I don't give my brother a moment to react before I am yelling, "Hey!" Picking up a loose piece of a broken metal pipe lying nearby that's heavy and awkward in my hands, but it's all I have. The second demodog snaps its attention to me, lowering its head so close to the ground that its jagged claws scrape against the dirt. The muscles ripple under its thick skin, coiling like a spring ready to snap. I can almost hear the quick, shallow breaths it's taking, before it changes course.
"What are you doing?" Steve calls, dodging Dart as he leaps towards Steve once more.
"Shut up," I mutter, knowing he can't hear me. I tighten my hold on the pipe, desperate for something to steady me. The rough metal bites into my skin, but I barely register the pain. "Come on," I hiss, my pulse hammering in my ears. I whistle sharply, drawing the demodog's gaze.
It lunges.
Time slows. I swing the pipe with everything I have. It connects with a sickening crack, the force knocking me off balance. The impact jolts up my arms, sending a sharp ache through my muscles. My breath is ragged, each inhale burning as I swing again, desperate to land another blow before it strikes again. The demodog skids across the dirt, but it doesn't stop, recovering in an instant. Its body is already coiling to spring again.
"Get on the bus!" Steve shouts, but I'm already stepping forward, pipe raised. The demodog shakes off the blow and charges again. This time I imagine the opponent across the net, watching its feet, the way its body leans, and sidestep out of the way. With a wild swing, I slam the pipe into its back. The shock of impact shoots up my arms, but I can't stop now. Desperation and terror surge through me, fueling my strength as I bring the pipe down again, the echo of the sickening thud mixing with demodogs screeches.
"Let's go!" Steve yells. He's already running for the bus, Dart on his heels.
I sprint after him, panic seizing my chest as I reach the steps. I can hear their claws tearing through the dirt, and can feel their breath on my back. Steve yanks me inside, forcing the doors shut just as Dart throws his weight against them.
The entire bus rattles under the weight of Dart's assault, the frame groaning with each impact. The pack, no longer deterred by the fire, which is dying in the wind, returns. The force of their attacks reverberates through my bones, like standing too close to a thunderclap. My teeth clench so hard my jaw aches, but I can't let go. Steve and I press harder, trying to keep the doors from flying open.
Above us, the sound of claws dragging across the metal shrieks through the air like nails on a chalkboard, sending an icy jolt down my spine. The vibrations ripple down the bus, making the entire frame shudder. They're on the roof.
"The hatch," I breathe, barely able to keep my footing as Dart throws himself against the door again. "Steve, the hatch!"
"Go!" Steve grunts, using his legs to brace the doors. I don't hesitate. I sprint down the narrow walkway, slipping over Dustin's backpack. The demodogs' claws rip through the metal above, each passing second dragging out longer than the last.
A screech pierces through the air. Max screams.
I look up just in time to see a demodog lowering its head through the open hatch, its mouth wide, petals of teeth dripping. I only have a second to decide: run the other way or save Max.
My body moves on instinct. I shove Max hard, knocking her to the ground just as the demodog's jaws snap shut. We hit the floor together, but I scramble up, palming for anything – anything – to use against it, but Steve is suddenly there, jamming his bat into the creature's face, standing over us, yelling, "You want some?"
The demodog screeches again, its gaping mouth wide as it snaps at Steve. The rows of its teeth glisten in the moonlight. The moment drags out, my hand gripping Max's arm, pushing her as far behind me as I can. I want to close my eyes, turn away, and cry, but I can't. I meet Max's eyes, wide with terror, feel Dustin's hand gripping the collar of my jacket as he moves away from the hatch, and hear Lucas' rapid breaths on the other side of us. We're not going to make it, but I can't let them know that.
Suddenly, the screeches from above stop. The demodogs on the roof fall silent, their low growls echoing into the night, calling back to something in the distance. The one at the hatch straightens out, looking out into the horizon, tilting its head from side to side before forgetting about us completely, dropping from the roof with one final snarl. Without another sound, they vanish back into the fog, almost as quickly as they had appeared. I sag against the cold metal wall, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My chest aches, the air heavy with the stench of burnt gasoline, but any relief I feel slips away almost as soon as it comes. Something isn't right.
The silence is deafening, as if the world itself has stopped spinning. Steve turns and looks at me, his eyes filled with questions – wide and slightly fearful. My arms are still outstretched, a weak attempt to protect my brother and his friends, and I finally drop them, lifting the back of my hands to wipe my eyes. I feel a small tugging on the collar of my jacket and look up to find Dustin, trying to pull me to my feet. For a moment, my chin quivers, meeting his gaze, but I let my brother help me up, wrapping my arms around him tightly, resting my chin on the top of his head.
"You beat the shit out of that one," Dustin mumbles into my shoulder and I can't help but laugh, pulling away to look at him.
"Where the fuck did they go?" I ask, glancing towards Steve who is now searching out the window. Steve turns to look at me, a look I can't quite read settling across his face.
"Steve scared them off?" Dustin suggests, and I watch as Steve smirks somewhat at the idea before he shakes his head.
"No chance," Steve sighs, resting the bat against the wall, "they're going somewhere."
"Then we probably shouldn't be here when they come back," I say, surprised at the calm in my voice. My hands are shaking and I force them into my pockets, smiling slightly at Steve, but nodding my head firmly, "Like, right now."
Steve nods, "Grab what you need," he says, voice tight. "We're getting out of here."
The kids scramble, throwing on their backpacks and gathering up what little gear we brought. My heartbeat thrums in my ears, unease lingering after the demodogs vanish. We pile out of the bus, the cold night air wrapping around us as I glance toward my truck parked a few yards away.
"Get the bike in the bed," I urge, watching as Lucas picks his bike off the ground. "We'll pile in and go home."
"No," Dustin says, aimlessly playing with his radio. "We go to Mike's or Will's. I've been calling them all day and I haven't heard shit."
"So?" I ask, fumbling with my keys. I drop them in the dirt and exhale slowly, watching as Dustin scoops them up for me. "We need to go home Dustin."
"We check on Mike and Will first," Dustin says, holding the keys out for me. "Please, Lacy."
I can feel the weight of every second, but nod, my neck feeling tight. "Fine," I sigh, jamming the keys into the lock and throwing open my door. "Everyone in! Let's go."
I jump into the driver's seat, Steve moving around to the bed of the truck to help Lucas lift his bike. Dustin and Max pile into the truck as I jam the key into the ignition, twisting it hard. The engine coughs, sputtering for a moment before going silent. My heart feels like it's stopped completely.
I twist the key again, the truck whining, refusing to start. "Come on, come on," I mutter under my breath, jamming the key hard in the ignition, leaning over to pat the dashboard in desperation. My hands tremble slightly as I try once more. Nothing. Silence.
I rest my head against the steering wheel, a hollow laugh bubbling up in my throat. Of course. Of course, the truck is dead. My pulse throbs in my throat, frustration creeping into every muscle. "Piece of shit!" I slam my palms hard against the wheel, the thud echoing through the silence.
The sudden realization hits me like a punch to the gut. Billy had told me. He warned me this thing was falling apart, but I was too stubborn to listen. Too caught up in everyone else's problems that I didn't see a huge one right in front of me.
"Lacy?" Dustin's voice is small, uncertain, barely breaking through my haze of frustration.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, forcing myself to breathe. "It's fine," I mutter, pressing my finger to my temple. My chest aches, frustration bubbling up. "Everything's fine. Steve leans through the window, his face grim in the pale light. His eyes meet mine, and I can see it –the realization settling over him too. We're stuck.
"What's wrong?" he asks, voice tight.
"The truck's dead," I manage to say, the words feeling like nails on my tongue.
Steve's face hardens, and he glances around, "Alright. We walk." His voice is low, steady, trying to stay calm for everyone else. "We'll cut through the woods."
The kids scramble out of the truck, throwing on their backpacks. Steve helps me out of the driver's seat, his hand resting briefly on mine. I swallow hard, letting his touch anchor me for a second before I pull away. "We're fine," I say, my voice brittle. "We just need to get moving."
As the group falls into step, Steve takes the lead with Dustin and Lucas just beside him. I try not to think too much of it – the way my brother seems to admire Steve. He walks right next to him, looking up at Steve with a look I don't really recognize. A tinge of jealousy strikes me, my brother is growing up, and I might no longer be the coolest person in his life. I watch them closely as we push forward into the woods, the trees looming overhead, their branches creaking softly in the night air.
For a while, no one speaks. Just the sound of our footsteps crunching through the leaves fills the silence. The night air is colder out here, the fog wrapping itself around the trees like it's trying to swallow us whole. I shove my hands into my pockets, trying to keep my mind from drifting to the fact that we're stranded with demodogs lurking somewhere out there.
Max glances at me from over her shoulder. She looks tense, her hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets. After a few minutes, she pauses, waiting for me and breaks the silence. "I don't get it."
I raise an eyebrow, falling into step beside her. "What?"
"You," Max shrugs, her voice low. "Why would you do that for me?"
I frown, unsure what she's referring to, until I remember her scream on the bus. A cold chill running down my spine at the memory. "Put myself between you and one of those things?" I ask, glancing at her.
Max nods and I stare ahead, the question catching me off guard. I shrug, trying to find the right words,"It's kind of what older siblings are supposed to do." I pause, looking at her now, "You protect them."
Max scoffs softly, her voice growing quieter. "Not all of them."
Her words hang in the air for a moment, and my stomach tightens as the implications sink in. I don't need to ask to know she's talking about Billy. My throat feels tight, but I push through it. "Max…"
She kicks a small rock in front of her, avoiding my gaze. "You don't have to say it. I know what kind of person Billy is." She pauses, kicking at the rock again before finally looking at me, "I thought you were like that too. I thought that any person who could see something nice in Billy was just as angry as him, but I'm glad I was wrong."
I frown, my heart sinking. "Is he really that bad?"
Max sighs, her voice laced with frustration, "Like I said before, he wasn't always like this, but if you like him, maybe he's not as … angry."
I nod slowly, feeling my heart sinking even further. "I told him I'd go on a date with him tonight," I admit with a sigh, "like a real date, but clearly that's not happening. He'll probably be pretty angry with me too."
Max shoots me a curious glance, and I realize I've said too much. My stomach twists uncomfortably when I catch Dustin's eyes ahead. He's frowning, his pace slowing as if he's been listening in. Dustin stops in his tracks, turning back toward me, "Seriously? You're still thinking about Billy, even now?"
I freeze, Max goes quiet beside me, her gaze shifting between me and my brother. "Dustin," I say, my voice sharp but uncertain, "now's not the time."
But he isn't backing down. "No," he snaps, his voice rising. "We're out here, running away from literal monsters, and all you can think about is whether Billy's going to be mad at you."
My throat tightens, the heat rising in my face. Steve and Lucas slow to a stop, turning to watch us. "It's not like that," I mutter, my voice lower now, but I can feel the tension building. "I'm just –"
"Is that why you never got your truck fixed?" Dustin cuts in, his tone accusatory.
I open my mouth to argue, but the words catch in my throat. "When do I have time, Dustin?" My voice is sharp, "After I'm done driving you around? Before I go grocery shopping every weekend? In between school and tennis practice?"
"You're not too busy when Billy is around," Dustin mutters, waving me off. He turns his back on me, pushing ahead of Steve and Lucas.
"You have no idea what you're talking about, " I argue, following after him, "Dad told me he would take care of it."
"Dad's not the reason the truck is dead," Dustin shrugs, still walking ahead of me. "You can't keep blaming him every time something goes wrong!"
My feet falter over a root, the weight of his words sinking in, realizing what Dustin is insinuating. "It's not my fault either!" I shoot back, not caring if my voice carries through the trees. I can feel anger bubbling over, but I can't seem to stop it. "I'm doing the best I can!."
Dustin huffs, kicking at the ground with a frustration that has been building for days. "If you weren't so caught up with Billy and your stupid friends, we'd be out of here by now." Dustin's voice shakes, but I can see something else behind the anger – fear. He's scared, and maybe that's why he's lashing out at me now.
His words cut through me, and for a moment, I stand there speechless. The pressure of everything – the responsibilities, the expectations – threatens to crush me, and I feel the tears of frustration prick the corners of my eyes. "I'm not –" My words feel hollow, and I can't get them to leave my mouth.
Steve shifts between us, his expression wary. "Guys, now's not the time –"
Dustin cuts him off, his voice shaking as he still addresses me, " It's not dad's fault you weren't there this morning! It is your fault!"
I want to yell at him, tell him he's wrong, but I can't. I've been so wrapped up in Carol and Nicole, so infatuated with Billy, and obsessed with trying to be perfect that I let it fall apart, just like dad did.
Is this who I've become? Maybe Dustin's right. Maybe I'm as lost as he thinks I am.
The air feels thick, my heart pounding in my chest. I don't know whether to scream or cry or both, but before I can figure it out, a low growl in the distance cuts through the night air. The sound rolls through the trees, echoing so close it sends a chill straight down my spine.
We all freeze. The sound is unmistakable. For a moment, neither Dustin or I move, the tension from our argument still hanging in the air with the fog. But the reality of the situation crashes over us. The monsters don't care about our problems. The anger in Dustin's eyes vanishes, replaced by his own fear. We don't have time to process what just happened between us. We don't have time for anything.
Steve's head snaps toward the noise, his eyes narrowing. "We need to move," he says, his voice commanding. "Now."
The growls rise over the hills, bouncing through the trees and ripping apart the tension between us. Without another word, we fall back into motion, the argument abandoned for now. My hands shake as I stuff them into my pockets, trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling back to Billy, to dad, to everything Dustin said. Max walks quietly beside me, her expression a little sympathetic as we follow the boys up the hill.
"Why are we going towards the noise?" Max asks, glancing over her shoulder as the wind rustles the leaves at our feet.
"They're far enough away," I shrug, feeling my own nerves tighten in my stomach, "we just need to see where they went."
We move quickly, our footsteps crunching against the dry leaves, every sound making me flinch. The fog around us feels thicker now, pressing in on all sides, making the trees look like shadows of some other world. Somewhere in the distance, the low growls every again, but they sound slightly closer this time, and I force myself to focus on the path ahead.
Steve leads the way, his flashlight cutting through the mist in short, nervous bursts. Dustin and Lucas follow close behind him, whispering to each other in voices too low for me to make out. Every now and then, Steve glances back at us, his jaw tight, urging us to keep moving faster.
At the top of the hill, something changes. The air feels different, the trees begin to thin, and up ahead I see Steve slow down, his steps cautious. Suddenly, the growls stop. The air stills, thick with an unsettling calm that prickles my skin. It's the kind that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. My pulse quickens, and I step closer to Max as Steve stops in his tracks. He turns slowly, raising a hand to signal us to stop.
"What is it?" Lucas whispers, his voice tight with fear.
"I don't know," Steve mutters, taking a step forward but his voice is tense. He glances around, his eyes narrowing as if trying to piece something together. It's too dark in the distance, wherever the demodogs are gathering, we wouldn't be able to see them anyways.
Lucas pulls out his binoculars, his shoulders straightening with tension as he studies what's below us. "It's the lab," Lucas says, handing the binoculars to Dustin, "they weren't running away from us. They were going home."