TWENTY-NINE
— bob the brain
SHE FELT DISGUSTING. She had slept in the same pair of jeans two days in a row, her hair was greasy, she had a pounding headache, and her occasional anxious stomach ache had become constant. The skin on Lucy's thumb had been relentlessly picked at, to the point were it was bleeding— that wasn't going to stop her, though. Sitting criss-cross on the Byers' sofa, she let her eyes bore into one of the drawings before her. There was almost nothing to look at; an aimless bunch of scribbles on a crinkled piece of paper. But, in the larger scheme, it told a story. The tunnels of Will's mind. And, knowing that story, she felt sick. Lucy wanted to sink into the cushions and cease to exist.
Her brother left at the crack of dawn, and she hadn't heard from him since. She was silently begging him to call, whether it was from Dustin's house, the cabin, or wherever. Radio silence. For all she knew, he and Dustin had been devoured by a Demogorgan.
Lucy swore, her face was green. The anxiety-nausea was literally seeping into her skin, displaying itself in ways that others could see. She continued to pick at her skin, occasionally glancing down at the gash on her thumb, before looking back up at the wall of drawings. She heard footsteps from down the hall— they echoed her way, heavy, and coming up from behind her. Then, a hand on her shoulder.
"We'll find him, Lucy." Her words were soft, comforting. Joyce spoke in such a gentle tone, Lucy almost believed her. The way the words rolled off her tongue, the genuineness behind them. When the teenager didn't respond, the woman moved from behind the sofa. With a sharp pointer finger to one of the drawings, she tapped. "He's here."
Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat. She backed up into the sofa. "But, where is here?" she spoke, nearly in a whisper.
Her face fell. The woman had dreaded that question— her stomach tangled into a knot, and she dropped her hand to her side. There was no definite answer to what Lucy has asked. A thought conjured in Joyce's mind, and the sentence was on the tip of her tongue; then, a car pulled into the driveway. A red Camry parked perfectly, and her brows lifted.
There was a light knock on the door, and she opened it immediately. Lucy watched as a man spoke to Joyce; with a sweet smile on his face, he held out an armful of brain-games. He nodded, as if he were explaining something, and the woman held the door open only a crack. She recognized him— Bob Newby, the worker at Radio Shack.
"I can teach them to him," Bob said, looking down at his games.
Joyce pursed her lips. "He's sleeping."
The man's shoulders fell. "Okay," he sighed. "...I can wait with you."
"Listen, it's just not a good time," the woman said, speaking between her teeth. "I'll call you, okay?"
A soft smile spread on Lucy's pink lips. She pressed her forehead to the doorway, humming lightly. "Bob the Brain," she murmured, watching as the man trodded towards his car.
She could see the gears shift in Joyce's head. Her eyes lit up, and her brows raised. Pulling her attention back towards the closed door, she rushed forward, and yanked it open. "Bob!"
Bob Newby was a genius, and she was sure of it. The way his brain worked was special— with the brain-games in his hands, he stared up at the drawings plastered across the wall. His brow twitched, and Bob cleared his throat. "You, um... drew these?"
Will nodded. "Yeah."
"How, exactly?" he asked, turning to Joyce.
The woman wagged a finger. "Hey, no questions asked, okay?" she interrupted, stern. "We just need you to help us figure what..." Joyce's eyes traced across the wall, and she jumped. "Bob!" She beckoned the man over to the newest spot on the wall, the drawing were Jim apparently was.
Lucy moved across the living room. "Do you know where this is?" she pointed. "Can you piece it together, Mr. Newby?"
He sighed and looked around, stopping only to pull Joyce away for a moment. Through his peripheral, Bob could see Lucy's eyes widen. She ran a hand down her face, and he cleared his throat.
They left the room, and it deepened the pit in her stomach. She pressed her back to the wall, moved the hair from her eyes, and zoned out. If Bob couldn't figure it out, no one could— then, footsteps sounded down the hall.
"It's Lovers Lake!" Bob shouted, running from the room. "That's Lake Jordan, and that's... that's Sattlers Quarry?"
Her face fell. Pushing herself off the wall, Lucy moved towards Bob. "You can see all of that from these drawings?" she asked, the amazement promoting a half-smile on her lips.
Just, follow it naturally... it moves to Eno River. So the lines aren't roads, but they act like roads. That's the giveaway! Ha! It's not a puzzle, it's a map. It's a map of Hawkins!"
Her chest fell with a sigh, and her eyes shot across the room. Pupils moving from drawing to drawing, the puzzle pieces began falling together in her mind. The sketches, scribbles, whatever— it was a map of Hawkins. "Ho-ly shit," she exhaled, nodding. "Bob... you're a genius."
It look them hours. Hours, a lot of work, and someone Lucy was considering a classified genius. Bob mapped it out, calculating the feet, and was able to decipher the map of Hawkins. Now, the sun had set, and they were acting out their mission— they were going to find Hopper.
Her weight on her chest was nearly impossible to ignore. They knew her father was in the Upside Down, and they were going to find him— but what if something had gone wrong? What if he wasn't going to leave the Upside Down? The thought gave her a headache.
Mike noticed her mannerisms— the way she bounced her leg, how she was literally on the edge of her seat. She was anxious, and he could tell. "We're gonna find him, Lucy," he said. "Calm down."
Lucy nodded at his reassuring words, the younger boy looking at her from his spot on her right. They were in Joyce's car, driving anywhere in hopes of finding Hopper as soon as possible. Her entire body was sticky with sweat and with a quick breath out, the girl yanked off Steve's windbreaker and tossed it to the side.
Will's voice broke the air. "Turn right."
Heads turned towards his way. Their faces fell in confusion, and Joyce shook her head. Will jumped, "Turn right! I saw him," he said, urgent. "Now!"
Joyce made a sharp turn at Wills words, causing everyone in the car to scream as they trucked through trees and bushes. The vehicle came to a fast holt, and they jerked in their seats. Eyes wide, Lucy clutched onto her seatbelt.
From the passengers seat, Bob's confusion worsened. "What's Jim doing here— Joyce?"
In the center of the field, there was a giant, messily dug hole. She squinted, struggling to see, relying solely on the headlights. They were wasting time. With a sudden kick of adrenaline, Lucy pushed past Mike, and out of the Camry. Her feet hit the hard ground, and she slammed the heavy door shut. "Lucy, no!" Joyce called. "Just— just stay here."
"I need to find my Dad!" Lucy shouted, voice breaking. "I'm going in."
"Be careful!" the woman yelled, watching as the younger girl rushed past the debris.
Her face fell. There was a wormlike mass outside the hole, a tangle of creatures that blocked their entry. Joyce, now besides Lucy, grabbed for a shovel— she hacked at it, grunting.
The ground fell, revealing the open earth below them. Lucy moved forward, prompting Joyce to tense in her spot. "Don't—"
"Can you help me down?" Lucy asked, extending an arm. "Please!" The girls high-tops hit the dirty ground when she climbed in, a flashlight gripped in her hand. Joyce followed after, hot on her trail.
Lucy's chest was burning. The foggy particles clouded her vision, and she squinted. "Dad!" she shouted, a hand cupped around her mouth. "Dad!"
"Hopper!" Joyce called.
"Joyce," Bob sighed, out of breath. "Is this Wills map— are we in Will's map?"
She shouted over Bob. "Dad!" Lucy called, voice cracking. The urgency in her tone made Joyce's stomach churn— with an anxious breath, she continued after the girl.
"Hopper! Hopper!" the woman shouted.
Bob was sure, now. "We're in Wills map," he nodded. "How did he know all this?"
Her throat was raw. Rushing the hair from her sweaty forehead, Lucy let out a defeated sigh. Lips parted, she was ready to shout— then, her eyes fell upon a cigarette at her feet. She stooped down, and held it between her thumb and pointer finger. "Joyce... this is his. It's his, right?"
Joyce's throat tightened. "We're here," she nodded, looking from the cigarette to Lucy.
"Dad!" Lucy called, "Come on," her voice was lower this time, more desperate. The last conversation she and her father had was nothing but a nasty fight, and the idea of not finding him made her feel sick. Now, she had found his cigarette— Lucy had never been more determined in her life.
"Hopper!"
Her foot was caught below a vine; her body tumbled forward, hitting the ground with force. The air was pushed from her lungs, and she grunted. Planting her hands on the floor, Lucy moved her vision forward— then, she saw it. Her hazel eyes widened at the sight of her fathers sheriff hat. "Shit," she whispered. Then, her vision fell upon a shocking sight. "Look— his arm!"
Joyce and Bob rushed forward, immediately tearing at the vine-like creatures below their feet. The chopped and pulled, desperately pulling Jim free from the chokehold he was in.
"Come on," Lucy spoke to herself, ripping at the ones by his neck. She watched as he broke free and grabbed the knife, leaning forward to tear the ones at his legs. "Dad!" she sighed, jumping forward to hug her father. "Oh, my God."
"I'm okay," he said, chest heaving. Jim gasped for air, slightly caught of guard when his daughter wrapped her arms around his torso. "I'm alright, kid," he sighed, coiling a hand around her shoulder.
"Agh!"
It was happening too fast— men in white hazmat suits entered the tunnel, weapons in hand. They moved in a blur, hands on their backs, rushing them from the underground space. Hardly able to comprehend, Lucy did as she was told. She felt heat on her back, and she could hear small, screeching creatures.
She clawed out of the tunnel, eyes falling on Will— his skin was pale, his eyes were wide, and he was writhing in pain. "Will?" Her face dropped when he fell to the ground. The boy thrashed violently, sobs and screams leaving his mouth. "Will!"
He rolled onto his back, body shaking violently. Only the whites of his eyes were available. Will's body hit the ground repeatedly, and his lips fell open to form a hauntingly perfect "O". Her stomach twisted— she felt sick all the way to Hawkins Laboratory.
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im going on a school trip for 3 days and they're taking my phone SO IM TRYING TO SPEED WRITE SO I CAN PUBLISH
i think i'm gonna alternate chapters? one of lucy, one of danny & riley.. probably what i'll do
the chapters will get more entertaining than this i was j trying to get smth published
OKAY I NEEDA HURRY