The steady hum of the copier filled the quiet office as Dove stood waiting for the last of her documents to print. The warmth of the freshly copied papers lingered in her hands as she flipped through the stack, checking for errors. Through the large windows, the last rays of the sun spilled golden light across the room, painting long shadows over the desks and the carpeted floor.
Most of the staff had left hours ago. It was just her and Danny now, as it often was on Fridays—two interns too determined, or perhaps too stubborn, to leave unfinished work behind. Across the room, Danny sat at his desk, sleeves rolled up and tie loosened, scanning a case file with a pen poised in his hand.
Dove glanced over at him, catching the furrow in his brow and the way he kept glancing between the stack of papers and a small book open on his desk. He looked frustrated, his lips pressed into a thin line as he scratched a few notes on the margin.
"You've got the face," Dove said, leaning against the copier with a grin.
Danny looked up, his eyebrows knitting together. "The face?"
"Yeah," she replied, gesturing toward him. "The 'if this doesn't start making sense soon, I'm going to set it on fire' face."
Danny sighed, leaning back and tossing his pen onto the desk. "Abernathy's got me translating all this Russian junk for a client. None of it makes any sense." He gestured at the small book, which Dove now realized was a Russian-English dictionary. "And this thing is about as helpful as a rock."
Dove laughed. "Russian? When did that become part of the job description?"
Danny shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "Apparently, Abernathy thinks 'intern' means 'free translator.' I don't even speak Russian—I'm just winging it and hoping I don't accidentally promise the client a nuclear submarine."
That made Dove laugh harder. She stepped forward, walking over to his desk and leaning against the edge. "Let me help," she said, peering at the papers.
Danny shrugged, sliding the dictionary toward her. "Be my guest. I'll even let you take credit if we crack this thing." Danny leaned closer to the document, pointing at a line of text. "This one starts with.. uh, it kind of looks like an upside-down 'n.' And the next one kind of looks like an 'x' with, like, a tail?"
They both laughed before their focus quickly narrowed back to the work in front of them. After an hour of squinting at symbols and trying to make sense of them, their efforts were clearly going nowhere. The frustration finally got the better of them, and their concentration dissolved into giggles as they started flipping through the dictionary, reading random words aloud.
"Cat," Dove said, smirking. "It's 'kot.' That's cute."
Danny snorted, leaning closer. "Okay, what about.. hmm.. how do you say 'our boss is an asshole'?"
Dove chuckled, flipping through the worn pages of the dictionary, her finger running over the Cyrillic text. "Okay, so.. 'Nash boss' means 'our boss.'" She paused, turning a few more pages. "And for 'asshole,' you'd say 'mudak.' So.. 'Nash boss—mudak.'" She glanced up at Danny with a triumphant smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Danny raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "You're a natural," he teased, leaning back in his chair. "Think we can work that into casual conversation?"
Dove laughed, closing the dictionary with a soft thud. "Not if we want to keep our jobs."
Danny nodded, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Fair point," he said, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. He paused, the playful glint in his eyes softening. "Okay, what about.. how do you say 'got any fun plans this weekend'?"
Dove looked up from the dictionary, her brow furrowing slightly as she studied his face. There was something unspoken in his tone, a subtle shift that caught her off guard. She opened her mouth to respond, but before the words could come, the lights flickered once, then went out completely, leaving them in pitch black. The faint hum of the building's power faded, replaced by an eerie silence.
Dove sighed, grabbing her bag from the back of her chair and pulling out a small flashlight. She clicked it on and pointed it at Danny, who was scanning the room cautiously, his jaw set. "Guess that's our cue to call it a day."
Danny nodded curtly, slipping on his suit jacket and leather bag in one smooth motion. "What is this, like the third outage this week?" he asked, his voice edged with curiosity and suspicion.
Dove stood and followed him toward the office door. "I think so, yeah,"
Danny opened the door, holding it open for her as she walked through. "Don't you think that's kind of.. strange?" he asked, lowering his voice as they entered the dimly lit hallway. The emergency lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting long shadows on the walls. "I mean, this building isn't even a year old."
Dove frowned, clicking off her flashlight and shoving it back into her bag. "I hadn't really thought about it, but yeah, I guess it is kinda weird."
She glanced over at Danny as they walked, noticing how his jaw was set and his hand gripped the strap of his bag tightly, his knuckles white. He looked more tense than usual, his eyes darting toward every shadow as if expecting something to jump out.
"Are you scared of the dark or something?" Dove asked, her tone light but curious.
Danny snapped his head toward her, his expression startled. "What? No, of course not."
Dove raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Then why are you so nervous?"
Danny exhaled, his hand relaxing on his bag strap slightly as he glanced away. "I'm not nervous," he said, though his tone was a little too defensive.
"Uh-huh," Dove said, giving him a pointed look, a small smirk playing on her lips. "You've been twitchy ever since the power went out, but I'm sure it's unrelated."
As they rounded the corner, the food court came into view. The space buzzed with the confused and annoyed murmuring of mallgoers and employees. Storefronts stood dark and shadowed, barely illuminated by the faint red glow of the emergency lights. The usual hum of the air conditioning and mall music had vanished, leaving behind an eerie stillness punctuated only by the shuffling of feet and muted voices.
Danny glanced around, his unease clearly growing as his grip on his bag tightened again. He turned to Dove, his voice low but insistent. "You mean to tell me this isn't freaking you out even a little bit?"
Dove chuckled, turning back to him with an amused smirk. "Trust me," she said, her voice steady, "it takes a lot more than a power outage to freak me out."
As if on cue, the lights flickered back on, flooding the mall with fluorescent brightness. The air conditioning roared to life, blasting cool air into the once-stuffy space, and the hum of electronics and machinery gradually filled the silence. The low murmurs of the crowd shifted to relieved chatter as people adjusted to the sudden return of power.
Dove raised an eyebrow at Danny, her smirk widening. "See? Crisis averted. Come on, scaredy-cat." She gave him a playful nudge before starting toward the exit.
Danny shook his head, muttering under his breath as he followed her. "I wasn't scared, just cautious," he insisted, though his tone lacked conviction.
"Sure," Dove replied over her shoulder, her teasing tone making him roll his eyes.
The bustling energy of the food court began to pick up again as stores reopened, their neon signs flickering back to life. Employees moved quickly to reset their kiosks, while shoppers returned to browsing as if nothing had happened. But Dove and Danny didn't stop, weaving through the crowd with a shared purpose: escape.
Danny shot Dove a sideways glance. "You know, if something had happened, I'd probably be the one saving your ass."
Dove let out a soft laugh, pushing open the door to the outside. "If by saving, you mean standing behind me while I do all the work, then sure, Danny, whatever helps you sleep at night."
Danny sighed, a resigned grin tugging at his lips as they stepped out into the warm summer evening, the hum of the mall was replaced by the softer sounds of the world outside—crickets chirping, distant laughter, and the faint rumble of cars in the parking lot. "One of these days, Dove, you're going to need me to save you, and I'm going to remind you of this exact conversation."
Dove chuckled, rolling her eyes as she adjusted the strap of her bag. "I'll see you Monday, Danny."
Danny smiled, his hands slipping into his pockets. For a moment, he seemed like he was about to say something more, his gaze lingering on her. But then he just nodded, his smile softening. "Yeah, see you Monday."
Dove offered him a small wave before heading toward her car. The cool breeze brushed against her skin as she walked, and she couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder. Danny was still standing there, watching her go, before finally turning toward his own car.
Dove's drive home was quiet, the streets of Hawkins lit only by the faint glow of streetlights and the occasional passing car. Dove kept the radio low, the soft hum of music filling the silence as she navigated the familiar route.
Pulling into the driveway, Dove cut the engine and grabbed her bag from the passenger seat. The house was dark, save for the faint glow of the porch light. Her mom was most likely already asleep; the house always felt a little too quiet when it was just the two of them.
Dove slid her key into the lock, carefully turning it to avoid making too much noise. The door creaked faintly as it opened, and she winced, pausing to listen. Nothing. Just the faint hum of the fridge from the kitchen and the soft tick of the clock on the wall.
She slipped inside, softly closing the door behind her. Almost immediately, she felt the familiar brush of fur against her leg. Looking down, she smiled as Tews meowed softly, the family cat's green eyes blinking up at her.
"Hey, Tews," Dove whispered, bending down to scoop the cat into her arms. Tews purred contentedly, nuzzling against her chest as Dove carried her toward her room.
The soft carpet muffled her footsteps as she nudged her door open with her hip. Inside, the room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the blinds. Dove set Tews gently on the bed, the cat immediately curling into a small ball on her comforter, her soft purring filling the otherwise silent room.
Dove stood there for a moment, watching the small rise and fall of Tews's breathing. A warmth settled in her chest, but it was fleeting. An unwelcome memory bubbled to the surface, unbidden and sharp.
The image was vivid—Mews's bloody body curled in the corner of Dustin's room, lifeless and cold. The sound of Dart's wet, gruesome chewing filled her ears, a memory so hauntingly clear it felt as if she were back there. Her stomach twisted, and her chest tightened as the weight of that moment crashed over her like a wave.
Dove took a deep breath, her hands gripping the edge of her desk for support. She felt the start of a dull ache blooming behind her eyes, the kind that warned of a headache that would linger if she didn't get a grip. Closing her eyes, she counted her breaths, in and out, focusing on the rhythm until the memory began to fade, retreating to the darker corners of her mind where it belonged.
When she opened her eyes, the room was still, peaceful, safe.
Tews stretched out a paw, flexing her claws lazily before curling back into her ball. Dove let out a shaky breath, giving the cat a small, reassuring smile even though she knew it wasn't for Tews—it was for herself.
She moved to her dresser, opening the top drawer and pulling out a small bottle of painkillers. Twisting off the cap with a practiced motion, she tipped two pills into her hand and swallowed them dry, the bitterness lingering at the back of her throat. She set the bottle back in its place, her fingers brushing over a few loose trinkets in the drawer before she shut it.
Dove reached up to tug the hair tie from her ponytail, letting her hair fall loose around her shoulders. She combed her fingers through it absentmindedly as she made her way to the closet, grabbing a soft, oversized T-shirt and a pair of worn flannel pajama pants. Changing quickly, she folded her day clothes neatly and set them on the chair in the corner.
The bed creaked softly as Dove slid under the covers, careful not to disturb Tews, who opened one eye and gave her a slow blink before settling back into her spot. Dove adjusted her pillow and sank into it, her body feeling heavy with exhaustion.
But as much as she tried, sleep didn't come easily. The image of the Mews lingered in her mind, vivid and unrelenting. Dove squeezed her eyes shut and turned onto her side, trying to focus on the comforting rhythm of Tews's soft breathing. It's over. It's done. You survived, she told herself, her inner voice desperate and firm. But no matter how tightly she clung to the present, the past pressed in.
Dove was jolted awake by a loud pounding on the front door. The sound echoed through the quiet house, pulling her out of a dream she couldn't quite remember. Groaning, she shoved her face into her pillow, hoping whoever it was would just go away. The pounding persisted, harder this time, shaking the door in its frame.
"Ugh, seriously?" she muttered, her voice muffled by the pillow. She dragged herself out of bed, her limbs heavy with the lingering weight of sleep, and shuffled toward the door.
Passing through the kitchen, she glanced at the clock on the wall, her eyes widening as she registered the time. "Shit," she muttered, suddenly more awake. She picked up her pace, her bare feet padding against the cool floor as she reached the door.
Pulling it open, Dove was met with the sight of Dustin's friends—Mike, El, Will, Lucas, and Max—all looking uncharacteristically serious for kids their age. Mike was at the front, his hand still raised as if he were about to knock again.
"Finally!" Mike exclaimed, lowering his hand and stepping closer. "We've been out here forever!"
Dove smiled sheepishly, leaning against the doorframe. "Sorry, guys," she said. "Didn't mean to keep you waiting." Dove stepped aside and the group filed in, their excitement palpable as they began chattering about their plan to surprise Dustin when he got home. Will and Lucas started unfolding a large poster board while Mike and El went to Dustin's room to set up the first phase of their plan.
Max lingered in the entryway, arms crossed as she eyed Dove's pajamas and messy hair. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You know it's like two in the afternoon, right? Did you just crawl out of bed?"
Dove chuckled, running a hand through her disheveled hair. "It's been a long month," she said with a shrug. "I'll be right back."
Max's grin widened, but she didn't press further. Dove turned and made her way back to her room, the faint sounds of the group's conversation trailing behind her. Inside, she grabbed a pair of jean shorts and a fresh t-shirt, swapping out of her pajamas quickly. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, sighing at the lingering dark circles under her eyes.
Dove was mid-stroke through her hair with a comb when a soft knock echoed from her bedroom door. She glanced up, setting the comb down on the edge of the dresser. "Come in," she called out.
The door creaked open, and Max leaned against the frame, her arms crossed. "Do you have any markers?" she asked casually, though her gaze flitted around the room, taking in Dove's scattered belongings.
"Yeah, I should," Dove replied, turning back toward her dresser. She opened the top drawer and began rummaging through it, pushing aside notebooks and loose papers. "Give me a second."
Max wandered a bit, her hands in her pockets, her sharp eyes scanning the room absentmindedly—until something caught her attention.
The edge of a Polaroid peeked out from the small trash can by Dove's desk. Curious, Max crouched and pulled it free, turning it over in her hands. Her brows furrowed slightly as she studied the photo. Steve had his arm wrapped around Dove's waist, pulling her close, his other hand playfully covering Dustin's face. Dove's head was thrown back in laughter, her joy so genuine it was almost palpable. Max realized it had been a long time since she saw Dove that happy.
"You threw this away?" Max asked, her tone laced with surprise as she stood, holding the picture up.
Dove glanced at Max, her eyes narrowing slightly as she noticed the photo in her hand. Straightening up with the markers clutched in her fingers, she let out a small sigh. "Yeah, I did."
Max looked back down at the photo, tilting her head slightly. "Have you talked to Steve?"
"Not exactly," Dove said, her tone clipped as she stepped closer to Max.
Max raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Not exactly? You two have worked in the same building all summer, and you haven't talked?"
Dove sighed, reaching out to pluck the photo from Max's hand. Her fingers brushed the edges as she looked at it briefly before setting it down on her desk. "The opportunity hasn't exactly presented itself," she said, her voice firm, though there was an edge of hesitation.
Max gave her a look that was part disbelief, part exasperation as she took the box of markers from Dove's outstretched hand. "You know, Lucas and I have broken up like a million times, but he always comes crawling back."
Dove crossed her arms over her chest. "This is different," she said firmly. "It was a mutual decision. We both agreed it was for the best."
Max raised an eyebrow, a skeptical smile tugging at her lips. "That's why you threw that photo away, right? Because you're both just so fine with it?"
Dove froze for a moment before shaking her head, brushing off the comment. "It's complicated, Max."
Max nodded slowly, her teasing smile softening. "Let's get back out there before they start arguing about who gets to use the glitter glue."
Dove laughed as they walked back toward the living room, thankful for the change of subject. "Please tell me you didn't buy them glitter glue."
Max shrugged, her tone amused. "And noisemakers."
Shaking her head, Dove followed Max into the living room, where the group was already hard at work—or, more accurately, causing chaos. Lucas was attempting to hang streamers above the doorway, arguing with Will about proper placement. Mike was sprawled out on the floor, carefully organizing their supplies, while El sat cross-legged nearby, adding small, glittery flourishes to the poster's border.
As the final touches were added to the poster and the streamers were secured in place, Dove paused, hearing the familiar hum of her mom's car pulling into the driveway.
The group quickly scattered around the house, the kids sliding into their hiding spots. Dove's heart raced with excitement as she peeked out the window. Moments later, the front door creaked open, and Dustin walked in, looking more frustrated than she had expected. He rushed down the hallway, his focus entirely on getting to his room.
Dove followed him, leaning against the doorframe as he slammed his duffel bag onto his bed. "Hey, what's wrong?"
Dustin sighed, flopping down on the edge of the bed. "No one's answering their walkies. It's like they don't even care that I'm home."
Dove smiled softly and walked over, sitting on the bed next to him. "Well, I'm happy you're home, Dustin."
Before Dustin could respond, a sudden mechanical whirring sound filled the room. His toy robot, long abandoned in the corner of his closet, roared to life, its lights blinking and arms moving as it buzzed and beeped erratically.
Dustin jumped, his eyes wide with surprise. "What the hell?" he muttered, standing and moving toward the closet. The robot shuffled forward on its own, followed by more toys—marching in a perfect line toward the hallway.
Dustin grabbed his can of Farrah Fawcett hairspray from his dresser and held it out like a weapon. "Stay behind me," he instructed, his voice serious. Dove bit back a grin and nodded, following him cautiously down the hallway.
The toys continued their synchronized march, leading them straight to the living room. As soon as they crossed the threshold, the toys stopped abruptly, shutting off in perfect unison. The room fell eerily silent, the only sound the faint buzz of the ceiling fan overhead.
Dustin rushed toward his R2D2 toy, picking it up and turning it over in his hands, his expression a mix of confusion and intrigue. "What is going on?" he asked, his brows furrowed.
Dove leaned casually against the doorway, watching as Dustin's friends silently emerged from their hiding spots. Lucas stepped forward, holding up the glittery sign that now read 'Welcome Home Dustin!'
All at once, the group blew into their noisemakers, the loud, shrill sound echoing through the room.
Dustin screamed, spinning around in shock. His reflexes kicked in, and before anyone could stop him, he raised the can of hairspray and sprayed Lucas directly in the face.
Lucas yelled, dropping the sign and stumbling backward, his hands flying to his face.
Dustin blinked, lowering the can. "Lucas, oh my God! I'm so sorry!" He rushed over to help as Lucas tried to wipe the hairspray from his eyes.
Dove was laughing from the doorway, shaking her head as she watched the chaos unfold. "I think they're happy you're home, Dustin," she said, her tone light but amused.
Dustin turned, his panicked expression melting into a sheepish grin as he realized what was happening. He glanced at the sign on the floor and then at the streamers, his face lighting up. "You guys did all this for me?"
"Of course we did," Will said with a warm smile.
Meanwhile, Max led a grumbling Lucas to the kitchen, helping him rinse out his eyes. The rest of the group followed Dustin into his room, chattering excitedly. Dove trailed behind, still chuckling at the chaos of the surprise.
Once inside, Dustin began his grand tour of the various gadgets he'd made at camp. After showing off a few of his inventions—which elicited some admitedly underwhelming reactions—Dustin knelt down, laying his duffel bag flat on the floor. With a dramatic flourish, he unzipped it, revealing a mess of metal parts, wires, and switches. Dove peered down at the pile, trying to make sense of what she was looking at.
"What is that?" Mike asked, frowning.
Dustin grinned wide. "Behold, Cerebro!" he declared, pulling out a metal rod with a switch attached. "This is an unassembled one-of-a-kind, battery-powered radio tower. When it's up and running, it's going to be the most powerful communication device you've ever seen. I'm talking North Pole to South Pole."
Dove raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "And what exactly are you planning to do with this thing?"
"Talk to my girlfriend, of course," Dustin replied casually.
The room went silent for a moment as everyone stared at him. Mike's mouth dropped open. "Wait, girlfriend? Since when do you have a girlfriend?"
Dustin's chest puffed up with pride. "Since camp, duh. Her name's Suzie, and I can talk to her whenever I want—thanks to Cerebro."
His friends exchanged skeptical glances, but Dustin just grinned, standing tall. "And now, all we have to do is set it up."
Mike tilted his head. "Set it up where?"
"Weathertop," Dustin said confidently, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
Dove blinked, surprised by the sudden request. "I'm assuming you'll be needing a ride."
Dustin gave her a hopeful look. "Come on, Dove. It'll be awesome. It's not far, and we can get it set up in no time."
Dove sighed, glancing at the eager faces around her. She couldn't help but smile. "Fine, fine. Let's go."
The group walked toward the front door, each carrying various pieces of Cerebro. Metal parts jangled as they moved, Dustin leading the charge with a triumphant grin on his face.
"Where are you guys going?" Max asked, looking up from the sink where she and Lucas were still rinsing out his eyes.
Will couldn't resist a small smirk. "We're going to talk to Dustin's girlfriend."
Max and Lucas shared a look, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Girlfriend?" Max repeated, her tone laced with skepticism.
Without missing a beat, they followed the others outside, trailing behind as Dove unlocked her car. The group piled in, Cerebro parts shoved between them as they settled in for the short drive. The kids buzzed with anticipation, though Dove couldn't help but notice Dustin's nervous energy radiating from the seat beside her.
After a few minutes, Dove pulled into the parking lot near Weathertop. The familiar hill stretched out before them, and the kids jumped out, each grabbing a piece of Cerebro as they started the trek up the incline.
"You know, I'm pretty sure people in Utah have telephones." Max muttered as they walked, already out of breath from the steep climb.
Dustin huffed, adjusting the metal rods in his arms. "Yeah, but Suzie's Mormon."
"Oh, shit." Lucas replied, processing the information. "She doesn't have electricity?"
Max rolled her eyes. "That's the Amish."
Dustin sighed dramatically. "Mormons are super religious white people. They have electricity and cars and stuff, but since I'm not Mormon, her parents would never approve. It's all a bit.. Shakespearean."
"Shakespearean?" Max gave him a sideways glance.
"Yeah," Dustin said, puffing up with pride. "Like Romeo and Juliet."
"Hey guys!" Behind them, Mike and El lagged a bit, walking hand in hand. Mike gave Dustin a sympathetic look. "This is fun and all, but El's got curfew." With that the couple walked back down the hill.
Dustin frowned, checking his watch. "Curfew at 4?"
"They're lying." Lucas said.
Will watched as the couple continued down the hill, his expression annoyed. "It's been like this all summer."
Max shrugged, her tone light. "It's romantic."
Will's face twisted in mild disgust. "It's gross."
Dustin, however, looked frustrated, kicking a stray rock off the path as he muttered, "It's bullshit. I just got home."
"They're missing out on the fun." Dove said, taking a few steps forward, and giving them a reassuring smile. "Come on, we're almost there."
The group trudged up the last stretch of the hill, groaning as they reached the top. Sweat trickled down their faces, and Lucas immediately unscrewed the cap of his canteen and chugged the entire thing in one go.
As the others set down their bags and began unloading Dustin's equipment, Dove paused a few steps behind them, her gaze sweeping over the familiar view. The golden light of the sun painted the hills and trees in warm hues, the breeze carrying the faint scent of pine. It was as stunning as ever, but something about the scene made her chest tighten.
The last time she'd been here was with Billy.
She hadn't thought about that night in months, so the memories caught her off guard. She remembered the way he'd looked at the view, his usual bravado slipping away for a rare moment of genuine warmth and surprise. She could still feel the electricity of her first real kiss, the way his lips had pressed against hers with a mix of tenderness and urgency. For a moment, it had felt perfect, like the rough edges of who he was had softened just for her.
But then the memory sharpened, the edges cutting into her like glass. The parking lot. His hands on her, rough and insistent, pulling her closer. And then, the hollow finality of him driving off, leaving her standing there alone to walk home. Her stomach twisted as the emotions of that night threatened to resurface.
"All right, let's get this thing up," Dustin declared, snapping Dove out of her thoughts as he crouched down to pick up one of the metal pipes.
The others followed suit, their laughter and chatter grounding her. Dove pushed the memory away, focusing instead on helping her brother. She and Will each held one of the poles steady, gripping them tightly as Dustin crouched to secure the bolts. Max and Lucas busied themselves wrapping the old umbrella frames with strips of tin foil, their makeshift antenna reflecting the sunlight in flashes of silver.
Dove stood back for a moment, watching as her brother took charge. Despite the seemingly random assortment of parts, it all started to come together, and as the structure grew taller and taller, she was impressed by how meticulously Dustin had planned everything out. By the time they were finished, Cerebro stood at least 15 feet tall, casting a long shadow over the hill.
Dustin wiped his hands on his pants, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "Not bad, huh?"
Dove nodded, genuinely impressed. "You really outdid yourself this time"
Dustin puffed out his chest, obviously pleased by the praise. "You guys ready to meet Suzie?" he asked, his voice laced with excitement.
The group gathered around as Dustin crouched down by the radio, carefully adjusting the dials. Static crackled through the speakers as he flipped through the frequencies, his fingers moving with practiced ease.
"Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over," he called into the mic, his voice full of hope. The air around them seemed to still, everyone holding their breath, waiting for the moment when Dustin would finally reach Suzie.
"Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over," he repeated, still with no answer. He looked up at his friends, who stared back skeptically. Dove could see the doubt creeping into their expressions, but she kept quiet, not wanting to add to Dustin's frustration.
"I'm sure she's just busy," Dustin said, his voice faltering slightly. "It's around dinner time." The others nodded, though Dove could tell they didn't believe him.
He looked back down at the microphone and spoke into it again, "Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."
As the minutes ticked by, the sun began to set, casting an orange glow over the horizon. The heat from earlier in the day started to dissipate, leaving a cool breeze that ruffled their hair. The light dimmed, and shadows stretched long across the hill. Dustin remained crouched by Cerebro, his fingers constantly adjusting the dials, but the radio continued to hiss with nothing but static.
Max, now lying on the ground beside Lucas, sighed deeply and muttered, "How much longer are we gonna do this?"
Lucas, resting with his hands behind his head, shrugged. "As long as Dustin wants, I guess."
Dove glanced over at her brother, watching him fidget with the controls. His posture was tense, his brow furrowed in frustration. She could tell he wasn't going to give up anytime soon.
An hour passed, then another. The sun disappeared completely, leaving them in darkness with only the faint glow of the radio's lights illuminating Dustin's determined face. The stars had come out in full force, twinkling overhead as if mocking the still silence of the radio.
Max rolled onto her back, staring up at the sky. "Dustin, come on! She's not there," she said, her voice tired.
"She's there, all right?" Dustin insisted, gripping the mic tighter. "She'll pick up."
"Maybe Cerebro doesn't work," Will suggested gently.
"Or maybe Suzie doesn't exist," Lucas added, a teasing edge to his voice as he glanced at Dustin.
Dustin's face twisted in annoyance, and Dove could see his shoulders tense up. "She exists!" he insisted, his voice sharp.
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "She's a genius and she's hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect."
Max sat up quickly, her eyes narrowing. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice challenging.
Lucas immediately backpedaled, his eyes wide. "I mean.. you're perfect!" he stammered, scrambling for the right words. "I mean, like, perfect in your own way. In your own special way."
Max couldn't help but laugh. "Relax, I'm teasing. I'm obviously perfect, and Dustin's obviously lying."
Dustin stayed quiet, his face set in stubborn determination. Max stood and brushed the dirt from her pants, signaling for Lucas to join her. "Come on, let's head out."
Lucas gave Dustin a sympathetic shrug before following Max down the hill. Will apologized softly before he left too, leaving Dove and Dustin behind.
Dove stood and placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. "I know you're not lying, Dustin. But it is getting late. We can try again tomorrow, okay?"
Dustin nodded, though his eyes never left the radio. He was about to turn it off when a sudden burst of static came through. The radio screeched, and the siblings froze.
Dustin's eyes widened as he dove for the mic. "Suzie? Suzie, is that you?" His voice cracked with desperation, but instead of a little girl's voice, something else came through—an unfamiliar, deep voice speaking in Russian.
Dove's heart skipped a beat, and she exchanged a bewildered glance with her brother. Dustin's face contorted with confusion as the strange voice crackled through the speakers, the foreign words chilling in the stillness of the night.