Hopper grabbed a rifle from one of the unconscious Russian soldiers, checking the magazine with practiced ease before slinging it over his shoulder. He joined Joyce, Murray, and Dove at the table where the blueprints were spread out. Dove pointed to key areas on the map, carefully explaining the specifics of her plan. Her steady voice carried over the room as she detailed the logistics: Dustin and Erica would guide the group from Cerebro while she, Robin, Steve, and Danny escorted them to the high ground.
Hopper and Joyce listened intently, occasionally nodding as Dove clarified their roles and the route they would need to take. The discussion shifted to Eleven's safety, and Murray begrudgingly offered his warehouse as a secure location, his expression clearly showing he wasn't thrilled about the arrangement but understood its necessity.
The group huddled around the blueprints, committing the plan to memory, the weight of the situation grounding them in a shared determination to see it through.
Meanwhile, Dustin and his friends were huddled together on the floor, their voices low and hurried as they exchanged amends. Lucas gave Dustin a quick slap on the back, their faces still tinged with the gravity of the situation, but there was a flicker of their usual camaraderie underneath.
A few feet away, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan had pulled Robin and Danny aside, filling them in on the bizarre and horrifying events of the past two years involving the Upside Down. Steve's tone was clipped, his words almost exaggeratedly pointed whenever he answered Danny's questions, making his dislike abundantly clear.
Danny, however, didn't seem bothered. If anything, he looked mildly entertained by Steve's obvious hostility, offering the occasional nod or amused glance that only seemed to fuel Steve's irritation.
With the plan laid out and the roles clarified, Dove left the table where Hopper, Joyce, and Murray were finalizing logistics. She straightened, taking a moment to collect herself before making her way toward the group of older teens.
As Dove approached, the low hum of conversation faltered, and one by one, they all looked up at her. Robin paused halfway through a sarcastic remark, Nancy and Jonathan exchanged a quick glance, and Steve folded his arms tightly, his jaw still set in a subtle scowl.
But it was Danny who caught her attention. His eyes locked onto hers, his expression shifting into something new. There was admiration there, a quiet kind that seemed almost out of place in the chaos surrounding them. Beneath it, though, was something deeper—concern, like he was silently taking in the weight she carried on her shoulders.
Dove stopped a few feet away, her gaze sweeping over them before settling back on Danny for the briefest of moments. She cleared her throat, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "Are we all caught up?" she asked, looking toward Robin and Danny specifically.
Robin nodded, though her brow furrowed slightly. "Caught up? Sure. Processing it? Absolutely not," she said with a slight shrug, her usual dry humor peeking through.
Dove's lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, but her eyes lingered on Danny for a moment longer, waiting for his response. He gave a small nod, his expression softening, though his gaze didn't leave hers. "Yeah," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "We're caught up."
Before she could say anything more, Hopper's booming voice echoed across the room. "Dove!"
She spun around, startled by the urgency in his tone. He was standing by the table, holding a set of car keys in his hand, his expression impatient but resolute. "Let's get this show on the road," he barked, his arm drawing back as he tossed the keys in her direction.
Dove instinctively held out her hands, ready to catch them, but before the keys could reach her, a blur of motion crossed her path. Steve jumped in front of her, snatching the keys out of the air with an exaggerated flourish.
"I'll drive," he announced, a smug grin spreading across his face as he turned to Hopper.
Dove blinked, staring at him in disbelief. "Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously," he replied, holding up the keys like a prize. "I saw what Hopper drove here. Trust me, I need to be behind the wheel for this one." He flashed his trademark grin, as if that explained everything.
Dove rolled her eyes, but decided not to argue. She turned back around, stepping toward Nancy and pulling the handgun from her waistband.
"Just in case," Dove said, her voice low but steady as she held the gun out.
Nancy's eyes flicked to the gun before meeting Dove's gaze. She nodded, her expression serious as she took it from her. "Thanks," Nancy said quietly, sliding the weapon into her waistband.
Dove straightened, taking a steadying breath as she glanced around the room one last time. The weight of what lay ahead was heavy, but she pushed it aside. "Alright," she said, her voice rising as she motioned for Dustin and Erica to follow her. "Let's move."
Steve jingled the keys obnoxiously as he headed toward the exit, and Dove shook her head, following after him with a determined stride. As they walked through the front doors of the mall, the group spilling out into the parking lot, Dove finally saw what Steve was so excited about.
Her steps slowed, and she stared at the car parked under the dim lights. It was impossible to miss—a butter-yellow Cadillac convertible. Its polished chrome accents gleamed under the faint glow of the parking lot lights. The bright color, paired with the red leather interior, was almost obnoxious.
Her gaze drifted down to the license plate: TODFTHR. The strange combination of letters made her cock her head, trying to decipher it.
"Oh, man, now this.." Steve's voice broke through her thoughts as he walked toward the car, the excitement practically radiating off of him. His grin stretched wide as he ran his hand over the shiny chrome. "This is what I'm talkin' about!" he said, his voice brimming with pride.
Robin followed behind him, frowning as she eyed the license plate. "Toddfather?" she asked, pointing at it with a skeptical look.
"Screw Todd!" Steve exclaimed, jumping over the driver's door with a flourish. "Steve's her daddy now." He said slipping into the driver's seat, like he had just claimed a throne.
Robin, already halfway into the backseat, froze, her eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. "Did you just talk about yourself in the third person?"
Erica, climbing in next to her, wasn't about to let that slide either. "Did he just call himself daddy?" she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and disgust.
Dove, still shaking her head in disbelief, slipped into the front seat, squished between Steve at the wheel and Danny on her other side. The car's interior smelled like old leather and faint cigarette smoke. It was bigger than it looked, but still not big enough to escape the awkward closeness of their group.
Steve glanced over at Dove, that ridiculous grin still plastered on his face as he turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life with a deep rumble that echoed through the parking lot. It was loud, just like the car itself—definitely not designed for subtlety.
"Alright," Steve said, his hands gripping the steering wheel like he was about to enter a race. "Where are we going?" He glanced at Dustin in the backseat.
"Weathertop," Dustin answered matter-of-factly.
Steve blinked. "Weather-what?"
"It's west of here," Dove cut in, trying to stifle her growing frustration. "Near Cherry Oak."
"Just drive!" Dustin yelled, leaning forward as if sheer force of will could make Steve move faster.
"Okay! Jesus!" Steve snapped back, throwing the car into gear with a bit too much enthusiasm. He stepped on the gas and the convertible jerked forward, the wheels squealing slightly as they sped out of the parking lot.
Dove braced herself against the dashboard as Steve tore down the road, weaving the yellow convertible through the streets with far too much excitement for someone heading into potential danger. She cast a glance at Danny, who seemed more amused than concerned, and then back at Dustin, Erica, and Robin in the backseat.
Steve, with one hand on the wheel and a grin plastered on his face, reached over and flicked on the radio. Almost instantly, the speakers crackled to life, blasting out Jackie Wilson's Higher and Higher. The upbeat rhythm filled the car, echoing through the open air as the wind whipped past them. Steve, clearly enjoying himself, drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, completely in sync with the music. The convertible roared down the empty road, its engine loud enough to drown out almost everything—except Steve's enthusiasm.
He glanced over at Dove, then into the rearview mirror at Dustin, his grin still wide. "So, how much longer?" Steve asked, his voice raised over the sound of the blaring music and rushing wind.
Dustin, who was leaning forward between the front seats as the wind blew his curly hair all over the place, looked out into the dark road ahead, then back at Steve with a mix of excitement and impatience. "We're almost there," he insisted, his voice laced with urgency. He shot Steve a look that said, speed up already.
"Almost there?" Steve repeated, one eyebrow raised, but his foot pressed harder on the gas pedal. The convertible surged forward, picking up even more speed. The wind whipped through everyone's hair, and the car seemed to glide over the road like it was made for this—though, Dove was sure that wasn't the case. She grabbed the edge of the dashboard, holding on tight as they flew past darkened fields and occasional stretches of forest.
"Steve, seriously, maybe slow down a little!" Dove shouted over the music, her eyes wide as she looked out at the blur of trees speeding by. But Steve either didn't hear her or decided to ignore the suggestion entirely. The wind, the music, and the thrill of the open road had him completely in the zone. His grin only widened as the familiar lyrics blasted out from the radio.
"Your love, lifting me higher.." Jackie Wilson's soulful croon filled the air, blending with the roar of the wind and the hum of the convertible's engine as they sped down the deserted highway.
Robin leaned toward Dustin, her voice raised above the music. "Suzie must be pretty special, huh?" she asked, her tone curious. "I mean, if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her?"
Dustin's chest puffed out slightly, and a wide grin broke across his face. "I mean, nobody's scientifically perfect," he started, clearly pleased with himself, "but Suzie's about as close to perfect as any human could possibly be."
Erica, sitting beside Robin, rolled her eyes and leaned back with a sigh. "She sounds made-up to me," she said flatly. Without waiting for a response, she turned toward Steve in the front. "She sound made-up to you?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Steve's hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, and there was a noticeable pause. He glanced in the rearview mirror at Dustin, but his words faltered just a bit too long.
Dustin's eyebrows shot up, his expression suddenly serious. "Why are you hesitating, Steve?"
"I-I'm not! I'm not!" Steve stammered, his voice suddenly defensive as he shot a panicked look at Dustin. "I think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real."
Dustin narrowed his eyes but didn't have time to argue further. "Left!" he suddenly yelled, pointing dramatically.
Steve glanced around, frowning. "There's not a road here."
"Turn left now!" Dustin insisted, his voice almost frantic.
"Are you kidding me?" Steve shouted, looking out at the empty stretch of dirt and grass. But there was no time to argue. With a sharp jerk, Steve yanked the wheel left, sending the yellow convertible veering off the road and crashing straight through a wooden fence.
Dove screamed as the car jolted wildly, her body slamming into Danny, who braced himself but winced at the impact. Erica's shriek echoed from the back as they barreled through the field, the wheels kicking up dirt and grass, the ride rough and chaotic.
Steve's knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he tried to keep the car from flipping over. "Where are we going?!" he shouted over the sound of the engine and the wind roaring in their ears.
"Up!" Dustin yelled, pointing toward the distant hill that loomed ahead.
The convertible bounced over uneven ground, its yellow exterior looking utterly out of place as they tore through the field. The headlights illuminated the bumpy path ahead, casting long shadows over the grass as the car hurtled toward the base of the hill. Jackie Wilson's voice continued to blare from the speakers, completely unfazed by the chaos unfolding inside the car.
The yellow convertible barreled up the hill, the tires kicking up dirt and rocks as Steve pushed the car to its limits. The incline grew steeper with every foot, and Steve leaned forward, gripping the wheel tightly, his eyes narrowed in determination.
"Come on, come on, baby!" Steve muttered under his breath, the engine roaring as it struggled to climb.
But just as they were about halfway up the hill, the car gave a sickly sputter. The engine coughed once, twice, and then—silence. The headlights flickered briefly before the car rolled to an unceremonious stop.
Steve slammed his hands against the steering wheel. "You've got to be kidding me!"
Robin sighed, shaking her head. "Guess the Toddfather has it's limits."
"Come on," Dustin said, already scrambling out of the backseat and hopping onto the grass. "We're close. Let's go!"
No one needed convincing. Within seconds, everyone was out of the car, the sound of doors slamming shut behind them as they started sprinting the rest of the way up the hill. The night air was thick with urgency, the only sound now their feet pounding against the dirt and their heavy breathing as they raced toward the top.
Dustin's backpack bounced with each step as he neared the top of the hill, finally reaching the flat summit. Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees and fiddled with his makeshift radio setup, his fingers flying over the knobs and dials like it was second nature.
"Come on.." Dustin muttered under his breath as he fiddled with the dials, trying to catch a clear signal. The static hissed and crackled, then slowly softened. His eyes lit up, and without hesitation, he clicked the button on the radio mic, leaning in. "Bald Eagle, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?" His voice was calm, but there was a noticeable urgency behind it.
The rest of the group arrived, out of breath, forming a loose circle around Dustin. Steve bent over, hands braced on his knees, still panting from the sprint up the hill. "Scoops Troop? Really? That's what we're calling ourselves?"
Dustin didn't even flinch, eyes locked on the radio. He clicked the mic again, his tone firmer now. "Bald Eagle, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop. We're in position, do you copy?"
For a tense moment, the radio was nothing but a steady hum of static. The air around them seemed to still, as if the entire hillside was holding its breath with them. The only sounds were the faint crackling from the radio and the quiet wind rustling through the grass.
Dove glanced at Danny, who stood beside her, his fingers curled tightly around the rifle slung over his shoulder. His eyes scanned the distance, his jaw set, and his expression unreadable.
Suddenly, the radio crackled again, and Murray's voice broke through. "Yes, I copy."
A collective sigh of relief rippled through the group, a few chuckles even escaping their lips as the tension eased slightly. Dustin grinned as he leaned into the mic. "Call sign?"
There was a long, begrudging pause before Murray's voice returned, deadpan. "Bald Eagle."
Dustin smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Please repeat."
Murray's frustration came through loud and clear, his tone clipped. "Bald Eagle. This is Bald Eagle," he repeated, clearly not enjoying the playful banter.
"Copy that," Dustin replied, suppressing a laugh as the others leaned in closer, now standing shoulder to shoulder around him. "Good to hear your voice, Bald Eagle. What's your 20?"
"We've reached the vent," Murray's voice came through. "I'll contact you when I need you. Until then, silence."
"Roger that, Bald Eagle. This is Scoops Troop, going radio silent. 10-10, over," Dustin confirmed, setting the mic down and leaning back with a satisfied smile.
Steve gave Dustin a firm pat on the shoulder. "Nice job, Henderson," he said, the tension in his voice loosening as the group prepared for the next step.
The group sat scattered across the hilltop, the night air cool against their skin as they waited in silence. The only sound was the faint hum of the radio, crackling occasionally but offering nothing more. The tension in the air was thick, each second stretching out longer than the last.
Dustin and Erica remained crouched near the radio setup, Dustin's eyes flicking between the device and the distant horizon as if hoping Murray would suddenly spring back to life over the airwaves. His fingers idly fidgeted with the dials, but he knew better than to adjust anything now. All they could do was wait.
Steve paced nearby, hands stuffed in his pockets, his steps restless and uneven. His eyes darted toward the edge of the hill, then back toward the group, always scanning, always looking for some sign that things were moving forward.
Robin leaned back against a rock, arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed on the stars above. She looked calm, but Dove knew that beneath that nonchalant exterior, Robin's mind was probably racing. Even now, her lips twitched with some internal thought, though she said nothing.
Danny stood a little ways off, rifle still slung over his shoulder, his eyes locked on the distant treeline. His stance was firm, his expression unreadable, though his grip on the weapon hadn't relaxed once. Dove watched him for a moment, trying to read the silent thoughts behind his steady gaze. He was always so calm, so in control, but the look in his eyes told her he was holding something back.
Dove herself sat cross-legged on the ground, trying to force herself to focus, to keep the mounting anxiety at bay. She could feel the adrenaline in her veins, a sharp reminder that this was far from over.
Her mind kept wandering back to her nightmares, the ones that had haunted her for months. She now understood what they were—a reflection of the Upside Down. Though she had never physically been in that dark, twisted dimension, the images from her dreams lingered in vivid detail, as if she had. It felt too real to ignore.
"How long are we supposed to wait?" Erica asked, breaking the silence. Her voice, laced with impatience, echoed over the quiet. She sat on a rock near Dustin, her arms crossed as she stared at the group expectantly.
Dustin gave a tired sigh, still focused on the radio. "Murray said he'd contact us when he needed us," he said, his voice a little more clipped than usual. "We just have to wait."
Erica scoffed, shifting in her seat. "Great. Love that plan. Sit around while we wait for Bald Eagle to swoop in and save the day."
Dove shifted her position slightly, her legs stiff from sitting still too long. "We can't rush this. We've got a plan, and we need to follow it."
Danny turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. He'll come through. Just gotta be patient."
Steve huffed, stopping his pacing for a second to look out over the hill. "Not exactly my strong suit," he muttered.
Robin smirked from where she sat. "No kidding."
Steve shot her a look but said nothing, returning to his pacing instead. The silence stretched on again, and the longer they waited, the heavier the air seemed to grow. Every so often, one of them would glance at the radio, willing it to come alive.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the radio crackled to life. The sudden burst of static cut through the silence like a jolt, making everyone freeze in place. All heads snapped toward Dustin, whose hands hovered anxiously over the radio controls. The static fizzled, wavered for a moment, and then a voice—Murray's voice—broke through, muffled but clear enough.
"Scoops Troop, this is.. Bald Eagle. I've reached the first junction."
Dustin's entire face lit up, a mix of relief and sharp focus. He grabbed the mic instantly, his earlier impatience giving way to action. Beside him, Erica spread out the crinkled map on the ground, the details of their previous venture into the vents laid out before them.
"Copy that, Bald Eagle. Fly left," Dustin responded, his tone steady, though the tension hung thick in the air.
As the radio conversation continued, the weight of the moment settled heavily on the group, their adrenaline spiking. Dustin and Erica worked together, rattling off directions to Murray, guiding him through the maze of vents with surprising calmness. With each instruction, Erica recounted some conversation from their time navigating the tunnels, her voice uncharacteristically lively, though Dove's memory from those moments was fuzzy. Her mind had been elsewhere at the time—too laser-focused on the thought that she would never see Steve or Robin again—to recall much of the banter Erica seemed to remember so vividly.
While Dustin finished up his instructions, Dove's eyes flicked up and caught sight of Steve standing off to the side. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his brow furrowed as he stared out into the distance. There was something different about his posture, a tension that wasn't there before. Curious, Dove stood, walking a few steps to finally get a glimpse of what he was staring at.
The lights at Starcourt Mall, visible from their vantage point on the hill, were flickering wildly, casting erratic flashes against the dark night sky.
"Guys," Steve said, his voice sharp as he pointed toward the distant mall. The tone in his voice instantly grabbed Dustin's attention, pulling him away from the radio.
Dustin stood quickly, his eyes widening as he saw the chaotic lights in the distance. "Oh, no, no, no," he muttered quickly, kneeling back down and changing the frequency on the radio with frantic urgency. "Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop!" Dustin's voice rose in panic as he spoke into the mic. "Do you copy? Over!"
There was nothing but static for a moment, and then—an otherworldly roar burst through the speaker, rattling the group with its ferocity. The radio hissed, and then silence.
Without hesitation, Steve bolted, heading straight down the hill. "Where are you going?!" Erica shouted after him, her voice laced with confusion and alarm.
"To get them the hell out of there!" Steve yelled over his shoulder, his pace quickening as he tore down the slope.
Dove and Robin exchanged a quick, wide-eyed look before sprinting after him, the fear of what was happening at Starcourt pushing them forward. Danny followed close behind, his longer strides catching up quickly to Dove's. But she skidded to a stop, turning on her heel to face Danny.
"Stay," Dove said, her voice firm, but the tension in her chest made her heart pound. She stepped closer to him, her eyes pleading as she gestured back toward Dustin and Erica, who stood by the radio looking anxious and wide-eyed. "Don't let anything happen to them."
Danny's expression softened, though his resolve remained solid. "I won't," he promised, his voice steady, but then, unexpectedly, he reached into his waistband and pulled out his handgun. Without a word, he pressed the weapon into Dove's hands, his fingers lingering as he grabbed her shoulders, grounding her in place.
"Be careful. Don't die," Danny said, his voice suddenly tender as he leaned in, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.
Dove blinked, stunned. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. She stared at him, utterly confused by the sudden display of affection. Where had it come from? Danny had always been cool, collected, practical. But this? This was something else entirely, something she had never even remotely anticipated. Her mind whirled, trying to make sense of it, but there was no time to dwell on the unfamiliar knot forming in her chest. The situation was too dire for introspection.
"Uh, right. Okay," she stammered, pulling away, still feeling the warmth of his hands as she turned and bolted after Steve and Robin, her heart pounding for reasons far beyond the immediate danger.
Behind her, Danny watched her go, his jaw clenched, but his eyes were steady, focused now on keeping Erica and Dustin safe.
Steve, who had glanced back just in time to see the brief interaction between Danny and Dove, grit his teeth in frustration as he ran ahead. His expression hardened, the knot of tension in his chest tightening further, but he said nothing. There wasn't time for jealousy or whatever it was he was feeling.
Dove caught up to Steve and Robin, her mind still racing as they ran toward the Toddfather parked below, but the rush of adrenaline kept her focused on the task ahead. There would be time later—if they made it through the night—to process everything that just happened. But for now, survival came first.