CHAPTER FORTY ONE
" WHAT? IT'S THE 4TH OF JULY "
"I THINK YOU KIDS ARE BAD LUCK." Dylan said. "I don't think I want to hang out with you anymore."
They stood in front of Heather Holloway's house, ringing the bell. Dylan waited more anxiously than the others, Heather was actually her friend, and everything was starting to add up: Billy's odd behaviour, her absence. But didn't want this to be the conclusion. She wanted Heather to be okay.
When the third ring went unanswered, they barged in. They weren't even past the porch when the stench of chemicals burned her nose. In the kitchen they found the source, piles of cleaning supplies poured out and mixed.
The house only got more eerie as they went further into the house, half eaten food and wine in the dining room, blood on the floor, and robes meant to restrain.
"They must have moved them somewhere."
Dylan was trying to remain objective and helpful but she was only thinking about where Heather was and if she was still alive. Things weren't looking good.
"There must be a source. Mrs. Driscoll kept saying she wanted to get back, get back to what?"
"A source. The place Billy didn't want me to see," said Eleven.
"Then we have to go there." Nancy stated. "Mrs. Driscoll will lead us."
Dylan sat in the hospital lobby, left alone with the kids again. She wished Dustin were there, at least he would talk to her, but all the kids were too wrapped up in their own drama to entertain her. She'd rather have done with Nancy and Jonathan but the hospital had a two visitor policy and since they were coupled up, they chose each other. That made her miss Steve. She wondered what he was doing—slinging ice cream? On a date with someone new? Both were equally as likely. Unfortunately. She wanted to call him so bad, even with the reoccurring threat of the Mind Flayer.
The lights flickered once and Dylan ignored it. But then it became constant which concerned her. Will stood, fear on his face as he watched the lights turn off and on. That said one thing to her: Will could feel it.
"He's here."
Dylan got up at that and they took off down the hall after Nancy and Jonathan.
Dylan stood out of breath from four flights of stairs as Eleven broke down the door with Nancy behind it. The Mind Flayer had taken on a new form, not human at all, but disgusting and disturbing. Eleven flung it through the window and Jonathan and Dylan ran to Nancy, who was laying on the ground.
Jonathan propped her face in his arms, frantically asking if she was alright. Dylan knelt beside her and brushed the goop on her face into the sleeve of her hoodie the best she could.
"She's alright. Right, Nance?" Dylan answered for her. "Let's get the hell outta here, huh?"
Nancy nodded. Dylan extended a hand, Jonathan extended another and they both brought Nancy to her feet and didn't let go until she stabilized herself.
"Yeah, let's get the hell outta here." Nancy mirrored Dylan's sentiment.
MIKE AND MAX ARGUED WITH EACH OTHER, dragging Nancy and Lucas into it. They were all rested, showered, and rejuvenated which meant since everyone wasn't bonding over pure fear, they were at each other's throats. Dylan slipped away from the group, finding the phone in Hopper's cabin and dialling a familiar number.
The dialled tone kicked in, and the phone rang and rang, but eventually someone picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hi, um—"
At the sound of her voice, Jonathan turned. "What are you doing?" She shooed him off but it didn't work. The others looked back at her.
She covered the receiver. "I'm making a phone call. So, please be quiet."
"To who?" Nancy crossed her arms. "Do you have a plan in the works we don't know about?"
"I'm calling Steve! Alright?"
"Right now?"
"As opposed to after the Mind Flayer finds us and kills us?"
"It's not going to kill—"
Dylan shushed Nancy. "Yeah, hi, Mrs. Harrington. Is Steve there?"
"Dylan, is that you? It's nice to hear from you. But unfortunately Steve is out. I don't think he'll be home tonight."
"Oh." Dylan said, her mind racing, thinking of all the things that could keep him out all night. "That's okay. I just wanted to see how he was doing. Let him know I called?"
Nancy went from accusatory to sympathetic as Dylan hung up the phone. "He wasn't home? He's probably at work."
"His mom said she didn't expect him home tonight," Dylan shrugged. "But whatever, let's get to the important stuff."
The group exchanged glances and she was we aware they knew it wasn't 'whatever.'
Eleven sat in front of them, blindfolded, and they waited for the information they needed. To pass the time, Dylan thought of every possible scenario Steve could be in right now and she hated 90% of what she came up with. But it definitely passed the time waiting for the next near death experience quickly.
And it came, just as she thought it would, this time accompanied by beautiful sparkly 4th of July fireworks, for the ambience, of course.
"Seriously. Next time I leave this town I am not coming back."
The Flayer approached the cabin and the group rushed back inside the cabin.
"Can you use a gun?" Nancy asked her.
"I can sure as hell try." Dylan said, not wanting to be stuck weaponless like the last time. Nancy urged her to follow and they raided Hopper's shed for supplies. Nancy loaded a shotgun and passed it to Dylan, then loaded a second one for herself. Nancy quickly went over the basics, and urged Dylan to let off a practice shot, Dylan did and Nancy seemed satisfied enough at the results.
The kids barred all the doors and windows and then they waited.
"It's close." Will warned. Only seconds later did a gooey tentacle break through the cabin wall, grabbing for them.
Jonathan swung his axe into it repeatedly but it hardly slowed the being. Nancy shot at it but was backed into a corner. "Fuck," Dylan whispered, realizing it was her turn to make a move. Nervously, Dylan steadied her gun, pointing it at it's side, and shot until she was out of ammunition. It did little but it at least removed the Flayer's attention from Nancy long enough for Eleven to subdue it.
It squealed in pain as Eleven severed the head and retreated, only to return again with more. But Eleven knew what to do this time, severing them almost with ease.
Dylan let out a breath she had been holding, feeling a false sense of relief. But what came next was bigger and more vicious and it swooped up Eleven.
Nancy reloaded Dylan's gun that was laying on the ground and tossed it to her, doing the same to her own, and they both fired at the Flayer. Lucas grabbed Jonathan's fallen axes and did his part. Once it's legs were severed from it's body, Eleven fell to the cabin floor. A part of the Flayer had attached to her leg and when it was pulled off, blood spewed out, running down her leg. Dylan resisted the urge to gag at the inside of Eleven's leg being bared. Blood was one thing, a deep hole in the side of someone's leg was a whole other category of gross.
Filled with rage, Eleven stood and finally banished the Flayer. For the moment.
"Okay, okay, everybody out!"
They rushed out, Dylan forcing some more ammo into the pockets of her shorts and taking the gun—as a safety precaution. She didn't have the best aim but it was better than nothing. They piled into the Wheeler's station wagon, Max sitting on Dylan's lap. Eleven was beside them, dripping blood onto Dylan's own leg. Dylan pretended not to see it.
"Guys, we gotta get something on her leg fast. Or she's gonna bleed out." Dylan called to the front. Nancy looked at her through the rearview and nodded.
Of course, since nothing they were doing was normal, this meant breaking into a supermarket. Dylan helped Mike lift Eleven into the store, and she managed to sift a bottle of wine off a rack with her free hand, which earned her a dirty look from Mike. "What? I'm way too sober for this. Did you see her leg?"
Mike and Dylan laid Eleven down on the floor, sat next to her and propped her upright. They waited for the others to come back with supplies, on Max's orders. Dylan banged the neck of her wine bottle off the metal shelf, sending glass shattering to the ground. She then reached over her head for a plastic cup and poured.
Mike and Max watched her process, staring as she began to down the glass. "What? It's the 4th of July, I'm on summer break, I'm fighting an inter-dimensional demon again, and this girl," she pointed to Eleven who was breathing heavy, "has a gross gash on her leg I had to witness. Let me cope."
Max shrugged. "Honestly, I can't argue with that logic."
Dylan tipped her cup toward Max approvingly.
"Where are Lucas and Will?" Max huffed, moving on. "They should be back. I only asked for a washcloth and bowl."
"They're probably distracted by something stupid," said Mike. "Or eating whatever they want."
Max stood and looked at Dylan, putting out her hand. "Come on, go help me look for them.
Dylan shifted her cup and bottle into one hand and let Max pull her up with the other. Dylan walked and poured, following the sound of the boys' voices.
"There they are." Dylan pointed. "By that large array of fireworks."
"Of course they are." Max said, annoyed. "That doesn't look like a bowl!"
"No, it's better. There's a reason that this says 18 or older. This sucker is filled with 150 grains of black powder. AKA gunpowder. Strap two of these together and it's bigger than an M-80. Five of them and we got ourselves a stick of dynamite."
"Sounds cool," said Dylan.
"—You wanna kill that thing with fireworks," said Max.
"Do you have a better idea?"
"Yeah. Eleven."
Max sighed and turned around the other way toward where they had left Eleven. Dylan grabbed a bowl off a shelf and handed it to Max. "Who needs boys, am I right?"
When Max and Dylan made their way back to the aisle, everyone looked more frantic than when they had left. Dylan frowned. "What's wrong now?"
Mike tipped his head to glance up at her. "Dustin. We need to find him, he needs help."
Nancy quickly wrapped up Eleven's leg with Max's advisement. Then she was blindfolded once again, trying to determine Dustin's location.
"He's at the movies?" Lucas said, pushing his cart full of dangerous fireworks. "He's concerned about the gate opening and he decides to go watch a movie?"
"You sure he said 'gate' and not 'great'?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"Wait, wait, so let me get this straight," Dylan interrupted their petty argument. "We're going to the mall?"
"Yup."
Dylan let Max drag her by the hand back to the station wagon, in a permanent state of confusion.