Fallout || Stranger Things [2]

twenty-two || trials and tension

     Will ran a hand along the back of his neck. "You know how Tate pulled Nina out? The gate opened, but only for a little while?"

     "You think...someone opened a rift?" he asked hesitantly.

     "Only for a few moments, but yes," Will replied.

     Billy ran a hand along his arm, unsure if the biting chill was still just from the soft night wind. "Will, she couldn't be over there. We saw...we saw them take her away. And Nina said their powers diminish over there-"

     "What if she didn't open it to get out?"

     Billy's ears drew back, another ripple of goosebumps running down his arms. "You mean, she opened it from this side?"

     "When...when I went missing, they used a fake body to get people to stop looking," Will said. "We don't know what happened in the ambulance once they took her, not really."

     "Will."

     "The voices, the songs."

     "Will."

     "Billy, I think she's still alive."

||

Dr. Zharkov lifted his head as Tatum stepped into the decrepit viewing cell, an all too cheery smile on his face as the door sealed behind her. "Good morning, Tatum," he greeted, leaned against the desk at the back of the room with his hands folded on his knee.

     Tatum ignored him, craning her neck around the room filled with a handful of armed guards.

     The main sector of the cell was still empty, fresh blood slowly drying on the floor where Yelin met his end. The trap door rattled as an extensive huff emitted from behind it.

     "Hm, curious," Zharkov mused as he rose from the desk. "It was asleep until you got here."

     Tate glanced from the guffaw of the hidden demo-dog to the doctor. "Surprising, when you're the one who feeds it."

     Zharkov grinned. "Maybe it'll get another meal."

     Oh, I'm certain it will. "Where's your fearless leader, then?" she asked, folding her arms over herself as she wandered in further away from the door. She regarded the other guards, several of which had their turns 'keeping her in line.' "I kind of miss the bastard. He never calls."

     Zharkov rolled his eyes as her voice dropped with distain. "He just landed."

     Tatum hummed in acknowledgement, letting her eyes fall on the small trap door as it rattled. It doesn't want to be here. The thought pushed through her like a wave, drawing her brows in. Home. "That's new," she murmured to herself.

     A key swipe from the outside jostled the door open, Ozerov and a small fleet of men entering with too much excitement to be hesitant.

     "Ah, there's our golden girl," Ozerov said with a laugh, shedding a hefty fur coat before he tossed it behind him. "I hear you have something to show me."

     "Another failed end in a long line of them, but sure," Tate replied, arms still tucked tight around her.

     Zharkov grumbled to himself before raising the walkie talkie from his side. "Send fifteen."

     Orlo's first, she thought. Her eyes panned the parade of guns ready to stop her at any turn, Zharkov and Ozerov the only ones not set off by her presence. "Somebody better have tissues for me. This is gonna be a shit show."