Chapter 19

Guys you’re about to get like three more chapters because I forgot to post anything so everything I’ve been writing lately is in one long doc that is 40 pages long LMAO so thats why i havent updated in a minute

Sun beams through Maggie’s window in the morning, when the static crackle of her walkie talkie stirs her from a restless sleep.

She groans, one eye cracking open as her hand fumbles across the nightstand. The small black device buzzes again, a burst of anxious voices erupting from it.

“Maggie? Maggie, come in! Over.”

Her fingers finally grasp the walkie and she flips it on, sitting up with a bleary scowl, “Do you guys have any idea what time it is? Over.”

“It’s an emergency,” Mike’s voice comes through, strained and panicked, “Please. We need you.”

The sleep is gone instantly. Maggie throws her covers back and swings her legs over the side of the bed.

“What’s going on? Over.”

There’s a pause, a shuffle, then Dustin’s voice replaces Mike’s, “We—we went out looking for Will. El told us he’s still alive. That he’s out there, somewhere. We didn’t tell anyone, we just… we had to go.”

Maggie’s brows furrow as she pulls on her boots with one hand and holds the walkie with the other, “You went out alone? Are you out of your minds? And where is El? Over.”

Another pause. Static crackles.

“She ran off,” Mike says, voice quieter now, “We got in a fight.”

Maggie freezes.

“What kind of fight? Is she okay?”

“She messed with our compasses. They were supposed to lead us to the gate. But she kept turning them. She didn’t want us to go.”

“Because it wasn’t safe,” Dustin murmurs.

“And when Lucas figured it out, she pushed him with her powers,” Mike finishes, “He got a little hurt. He’s okay, but…it was bad.”

Maggie swears under her breath, grabbing her jacket from the floor, “So she ran off?”

“Yeah. Right after. We’re gonna go looking for her.”

“Jesus,” Maggie mutters as she zips her coat and throws open her bedroom door, “Okay. I’m coming to you. Where are you now? Over.”

“We’re at the trail behind Maple Street.”

Maggie grips the walkie tighter, voice suddenly serious, “Stay there. Don’t move. If she’s nearby, she’ll come to you. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Over and out.”

She slings her backpack over her shoulder, checks her flashlight and the switchblade she keeps tucked inside, and bounds down the stairs. The house is still empty. No sign of Joyce. Again. That thought twists in her stomach, but she shoves it aside.

This is more urgent.

As Maggie bikes hard through the early morning chill, the roads still half asleep, she thinks of the last time she saw El. The girl had looked more and more like a rabbit in a snare lately. Maggie didn’t blame her. And now she was out there. Alone, frightened and probably hurt.

By the time Maggie skids to a stop near the trail, the boys are already pacing in the dirt clearing.

Mike is a wreck, eyes red-rimmed and shoulders hunched like he hasn’t breathed since it happened. Dustin keeps glancing around the trees, like she might appear if he just looks hard enough.

“Alright,” Maggie says, out of breath as she drops her bike, “Tell me everything. In order.”

So they do, how they’d followed their compasses, how El kept steering them off course, how Lucas snapped and El lost control. How Lucas refuses to go looking with them and insisted on going by himself. Maggie listens carefully, jaw tight, gaze darting to the tree line.

“She’s out there,” she mutters when they finish, “And she’s scared. That’s not just fear, that’s guilt. Which means she won’t come back until she thinks it’s safe.”

Mike’s voice cracks, “But we need her.”

“I know,” Maggie says softly, “And we’re going to find her.”

She scans the woods, the sharp air stinging her lungs, “You two stay here. If she’s watching, she’ll feel safer seeing you in the same place. I’m going to circle the woods and see if I can pick up a trail. Maybe she left a sign. A footprint or something.”

“But what if it’s dangerous?” Dustin asks.

Maggie turns, her expression suddenly hard, “Then good thing I brought this.”

She pulls the pistol from her bag and checks the safety. The two boys go wide-eyed.

“Whoa,” Dustin mutters, “As if you couldn’t get any hotter.”

Mike hits him on the arm as Maggie rolls her eyes.

“Stay here. I’ll call if I find anything,” she tells them.

As she moves into the trees, her breath fogs in the morning air and every snap of a twig sounds like a gunshot. Her senses are dialed up, her instincts buzzing.

It doesn’t take long before Maggie hears shouting.

“Mike?! Dustin?!” she yells, voice rising with urgency as she spins in place, trying to pinpoint the direction.

The only answer is more yelling. Louder this time.

“Shit,” she hisses, heart pounding in her ears. 

Without a second thought, she breaks into a sprint, boots crunching through underbrush as branches whip past her face.

She follows the noise, breath ragged, legs burning as the forest suddenly clears. Her eyes go wide as she breaks into the open at the edge of the quarry, the same place they had found “Will’s” body.

The sight hits her like a punch to the gut.

Mike stands dangerously close to the cliff’s edge, while Dustin is being restrained by one of two unfamiliar boys. One has a switchblade pressed to Dustin’s throat.

“Mike!” Maggie screams, horror tearing through her.

Mike glances at her, just once, brief and broken, then steps off the cliff.

Her scream rips through the air, “What the fuck?!”

She doesn’t even register the boy holding Dustin anymore. Her legs move on instinct, barreling toward the cliff.

“Who the hell is she?” one of the boys spits, tightening his grip on the knife at Dustin’s neck.

Wrong move. Maggie slams into him, knocking him clear off his feet with a growl of fury. 

“Touch him again and I’ll skin you alive and feed you to a bear.”

She and Dustin scramble to the edge, peering down in terror only to freeze. Mike isn’t gone. He’s floating in midair, rising back up from the water upside down.

“Holy shit,” Dustin breathes, stunned.

Mike hovers at the edge before falling back to solid ground with a thud. The other two boys gape, frozen in place. Their confusion turns to fear as a figure steps into view from the trees. El.

She walks forward with deadly calm, blood trailing down from her nose. The boy who’d been knocked over scrambles backward and the one who held the knife suddenly screams, doubling over and clutching his arm.

“She broke my arm! My arm!” he shrieks in pain.

Maggie narrows her eyes, voice ice cold, “And I’ll break your other one if you don’t leave in the next five seconds.”

The two boys don’t need to be told again. They turn tail and bolt, one tripping over his own feet before sprinting away like a coward.

“Yeah, you better run!” Dustin yells after them, grinning wildly, “She’s our friend and she’s crazy! You come back here and she’ll kill you!”

But the victory is short-lived. El sways, then slumps to the ground, her shoulders shaking. Maggie bolts over, kneeling beside her and gently grabbing her shoulders.

“El, are you okay?” she asks.

Mike stumbles over, still catching his breath.

“El?” he echoes.

Tears streak down El’s face as she shakes her head. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, guilt thick in her voice.

“Sorry?” Mike asks, brows furrowing, “What are you sorry for?”

“The gate,” she chokes out, “I opened it… I’m the monster.”

“No.” Maggie leans in, “Hey, shortstack, you just saved his life. You’re far  from a monster.”

Mike kneels down beside her, eyes soft, “You saved me,” he repeats, “Do you understand? You saved me.”

He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close. Maggie slides in on the other side, wrapping her arms around both of them, and Dustin joins a beat later. For a moment, they all just breathe together.

El trembles in Maggie’s arms, pale and exhausted.

“Here,” Maggie says gently, drawing back enough to look at her, “Let me help. I’ll give you some more energy, okay?”

She places her hand over El’s, focusing. Slowly, subtly, she pulls a bit of the fatigue from the girl, just enough to steady her limbs and let her sit upright again.

El blinks up at her, a faint smile brushing her lips, “Thank you.”

Maggie smiles back, brushing a bit of dust off her shoulder, “Anytime, static shock. Now, let’s head back, shall we?”

The kids agree, walking their bikes down the quiet suburban street toward the Wheeler house. El walks silently alongside them, arms wrapped around herself. Maggie glances at her from time to time, protective instinct prickling like static beneath her skin.

They reach the house and enter through the basement door.

“I’ll, uh… help El get cleaned up,” Mike offers quickly, his voice softer than usual.

“Well, can’t Maggie—” Dustin starts to suggest, only to glance over and find Mike and El already disappearing into the bathroom.

Maggie drops onto the basement couch, sprawling out with a smirk. She wiggles her eyebrows at Dustin. 

“It’s best we give them some alone time, Snack Pack. Let ’em romance each other.”

Dustin turns an impressive shade of crimson and starts stammering, “You know ummm, I m–mean, we–we could—”

Maggie raises a hand like a crossing guard, “Don’t even finish that sentence. I beg you.”

Dustin throws his arms up in exasperation, muttering under his breath as he flops down beside her.

Just then, static crackles harshly through the walkie-talkie sitting on the table beside them. Garbled shouting erupts from the speaker, followed by a burst of noise that sounds like someone in serious distress.

“It’s Lucas!” Dustin exclaims, diving for it, “Lucas, hello? Say that again?”

The voice is jumbled and nearly incomprehensible. Maggie leans in as Dustin bolts upright.

“Guys!” he yells, running to the bathroom without knocking, “It’s Lucas! I think he’s in trouble! Do you remember how he said he was trying to find the gate?” Dustin pants, “What if he found it?!”

The four of them huddle around the walkie-talkie. More yells and static. A burst of Lucas’s voice comes through, barely coherent.

Mike snatches the radio, twisting the dial, “What’s he saying?”

“I don’t know,” Dustin says, frustrated, “He’s way out of range.”

“Lucas, if you can hear us, slow down,” Mike speaks into the radio, “We can’t understand you.”

Another burst of fuzz. Then a phrase cuts through.

“Mad hen… mad hen…” Dustin repeats, confused, “Does that mean anything to you? Like a code or something?”

A second later, Lucas’s voice crackles back again.

“The bad men are coming!”

“Bad men,” Mike echoes in a whisper, eyes widening, “Bad men!”

Then chaos erupts. Mike and Dustin take off up the stairs without another word.

Maggie groans, throwing her head back, “Great. Just what we need. The government hunting us. Fantastic.”

Dustin comes barreling back down a moment later, “We have to go! Right now! Come on!”

El stands, pale and alert, as Maggie springs to her feet. The four of them rush outside, grabbing bikes in a flurry of panic. El hops onto the back of Mike’s as the others mount theirs.

They only get a few feet before they freeze, several government agents and vans are blocking the street, faces emotionless and watching.

“Go, go, go, go, GO!” Dustin yells, and they take off like rockets.

The tires of their bikes squeal on the pavement as they fly down the street, wind biting at their faces. Dustin shouts into the walkie.

“Yeah, Lucas! They’re on us! Cornwallis. Copy that, Elm and Cherry!”

Two black vans screech into view behind them, engines roaring like beasts. The kids swerve into a backyard, cutting across neatly trimmed grass. A swing set creaks violently as they tear past it, nearly plowing into two little girls

“Sorry!” Maggie yells over her shoulder.

They burst onto the next street, meeting up with Lucas at the corner. Everyone stops just long enough to catch their breath.

“Where are they?” Lucas gasps.

“I don’t know!” Mike huffs.

“I think we lost them,” Dustin pants, doubling over.

A second later, the sharp screech of tires interrupts him. The vans appear again, swerving into view like something out of a nightmare.

“Of course,” Maggie grits out, “Dustin, this is why we don’t say things like that!”

The kids curse and take off again. One van appears directly in front of them, charging fast.

“LOOK OUT!” Dustin screeches, veering hard left.

Just as the van is about to slam into them it lifts. Suspended midair, wheels spinning, the vehicle flips over them in slow, surreal motion before crashing behind them in a cascade of sparks and metal.

They don’t stop. They don’t speak. They just ride.

Breathless and terrified, they finally reach a long-abandoned junkyard. Piles of forgotten cars tower over them. Everyone hops off their bikes, gasping for breath.

Dustin is the first to speak, gesturing wildly, “Did you SEE what she did to that van?! That was insane!”

Maggie crosses her arms and raises a brow, “No, Dustin. We all went blind at the same time. Very tragic.”

“That was awesome. It was awesome,” Lucas pants, bending over with his hands on his knees.

Lucas kneels down in front of El, his head bowed slightly.

“Everything I said about you being a traitor and stuff…” he says, “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

El looks at him through tear-glossed lashes.

“Friends… friends don’t lie,” she murmurs, “I’m sorry too.”

Lucas gives her back a light pat, a tentative smile pulling at his lips.

“Me too,” Mike adds quickly, stepping forward with his hand extended toward Lucas.

Lucas stares at it for a second, eyes flicking up to meet Mike’s. Then, with a breath, he clasps Mike’s hand and shakes it.

Maggie, watching all of this from her perch on a busted tire, lets out an exaggerated breath of relief. 

“God, I’m so glad I never mess up,” she says, clutching her chest, “That would be a real blow to my ego.”

They all pause for a beat and then burst out laughing, the tension finally cracking into pieces. For just a moment, they’re kids again, laughing in the middle of a junkyard like the world isn’t trying to kill them.

Mike wipes his eyes, still chuckling. 

“So… what did you find?” he asks, turning to Lucas.

Lucas immediately perks up and kneels down in the dirt, gathering sticks and a crushed soda can from around the lot.

“Okay. This,” he says, placing a long stick down in the dirt, “is Randolph Road. The fence starts here and goes all the way around.”

He draws a line beside it with his finger, then sets the can down at the center, “This is the lab. Hawkins Lab. The gate’s gotta be in there somewhere. It’s gotta be.”

Dustin’s eyes squint with curiosity, “Well, who even owns Hawkins Lab?”

Lucas shrugs, “The sign out front says ‘Department of Energy.'”

“The Department of Energy?” Dustin repeats, making a face, “What do you think that means?”

Maggie smirks, “Well, Dustin, if I had to take a wild guess, it’s got something to do with energy… power… maybe electricity. You know, real advanced stuff.”

Dustin crosses his arms, clearly not amused, “Thanks, Captain Sarcasm.”

“It’s government,” Mike says, “Military.”

“Then why does it say energy on the sign?” Dustin asks again, still baffled.

Maggie slaps her palm to her forehead, “I swear to God.”

Mike sighs, “My dad’s talked about it before. It’s military. Trust me.”

“Mike’s right,” Lucas adds, “There’s soldiers out front.”

Dustin’s eyebrows shoot up, “Do they make like… lightbulbs or something?”

“You know, it’s taking every ounce of restraint I have not to hit you with this stick,” Maggie says, holding up a twig threateningly.

“They make weapons,” Mike explains, “To fight the Russians or commies.”

Lucas slowly glances over at El. 

“Weapons…” he breathes, voice quiet now.

“Oh, Jesus. This is bad,” Dustin mutters.

“Really bad,” Lucas agrees, “That place is like a fortress.”

“Well, what do we do?” Dustin asks, pacing nervously now.

Mike shakes his head, “I don’t know. But we can’t go home. We’re fugitives now.”

“Ahhh,” Maggie sighs wistfully, leaning back against the rusted shell of a car, “The career I’ve been dreaming about since I fell through the ceiling. Just missing a leather jacket and a warrant with my face on it.”

A deep mechanical thrum cuts through the air.

“Guys? Do you hear that?” Dustin asks, looking up.

A black helicopter rumbles low overhead, blades slicing through the quiet. They all freeze.

“Shit—go, go, GO!” Maggie shouts, grabbing her bike and shoving it beneath the skeleton of an old bus. 

The others follow, scrambling to hide their bikes and climb inside. The metal creaks as they all tumble to the floor, elbows and knees bumping in the confined space.

“Henderson, you’re crushing me,” Maggie grunts, Dustin’s awkward body half-sprawled across her legs.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he stammers, scrambling off her, his face cherry red.

The sound of rotors fades slightly overhead and a voice crackles from the walkie-talkie.

“Mike? Are you there?”

Nancy. Mike jumps up and digs through his backpack, yanking the walkie free.

“Mike, we need you to answer,” Nancy says, her voice tighter now, “This is an emergency. Mike. Do you copy?”

Maggie leans toward him, “We’ve gotta pick up.”

“Okay, this is really weird,” Dustin mutters.

She reaches for the walkie, but Mike snatches it back, “Don’t answer.”

“What?” Lucas balks, “She said it’s an emergency!”

“What if it’s a trick?” Mike says, his voice sharp.

Lucas gestures wildly, “It’s your sister!”

“What if the bad men got her?” Mike argues, “What if they’re forcing her to say this?”

“We need you to answer,” Nancy calls again.

Dustin’s eyes go wide, like a lightbulb just flipped on in his head. 

“Like Lando Calrissian,” he mutters, “Don’t answer.”

“We need to know that you’re there, Mike,” Nancy pleads again.

“It’s Nancy!” Maggie insists, eyes flashing, “She wouldn’t lie to us. At least not to me.”

The walkie crackles again and a new voice cuts in.

“Listen, kid. This is the chief. Pick up. We know about the girl. And we know you’re in trouble.”

“Hopper!” Maggie exclaims, sitting straight up, “Come on, it’s Hopper. We have to answer.”

“We can protect you,” Hopper continues, his voice steady but firm, “We can help you. But you gotta pick up. Are you there? Do you copy? Over.”

Mike looks around at them all, the hesitation hanging heavy. Maggie gives him a little nod.

Finally, Mike lifts the walkie, “Yeah. I copy. It’s Mike. I’m here. We’re here.”

Dustin starts pacing again like a wind-up toy.

“Will you stop pacing?!” Mike shouts.

“You know what?” Dustin shoots back, “Maybe you’re right! Maybe this is all a trap and the bad men are coming to get us right now!”

“It’s not a trap!” Lucas yells, “Why would the chief set us up? Nancy, maybe, but the chief?”

“Excuse me?!” Maggie blurts.

Both Mike and Maggie throw their hands up in unison.

“Lando Calrissian,” Dustin mutters ominously.

Lucas throws his hands in the air, “Would you shut up about Lando?!”

“I don’t feel good about this!” Dustin yells, finger wagging.

Maggie glares, “When do you feel good about anything?!”

Suddenly, the distant rumble of engines shatters the stillness. Dustin’s head whips up, eyes bulging. 

“Shit!” he yelps, stumbling back as the sound grows louder.

They all scramble toward the rear of the bus, ducking behind rusted seats and pressing their backs to the cold metal wall. El crouches next to Mike, her breathing short and shaky. Lucas peeks out the broken rear window, squinting into the dusk.

“Lando,” Dustin whispers again.

“Think they saw us?” Lucas pants.

“Both of you, shut up!” Mike hisses, eyes fixed on the front of the bus.

The front bus door opens with a metallic groan, and the kids freeze. A thud, the sound of boots hitting metal, followed by a scuffle, grunts, a sharp impact, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.

Maggie squints toward the front, jaw clenched. Mike looks like he’s holding his breath. Hopper steps onto the bus.

“Hallelujah!” Maggie cries in utter relief, recognizing the silhouette stepping up into the bus.

“Alright, let’s go!” Hopper barks, scanning the faces of the wide-eyed kids.

Maggie moves first, shouldering her way down the narrow aisle like she owns it. 

“I call shotgun!” she shouts over her shoulder.

The others hesitate, still stunned.

“Let’s go!” Hopper repeats, more forcefully now.

Dustin blinks like he’s come out of a trance. 

“Okay, okay!” he stammers.

They all clamber down the steps, one after the other, hearts pounding.

Outside, a couple of unconscious agents lay groaning nearby, clearly the ones Hopper dealt with.

Maggie vaults into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind her with an excited “Ha!”

Hopper glances at her, “You’re lucky I like you, kid.”

“I’m everyone’s favorite,” she replies sweetly, adjusting the seat with a little wiggle, “Plus, you need someone to DJ.”

He gives her a sideways look, “Touch the radio and I will put you in the back.”

Behind them, the others pile into the cab. Mike helps El into the back seat, squeezing in next to Lucas and Dustin. The doors slam shut just as more engines roar in the distance.

Hopper shifts the truck into gear, “Hang on!”

The tires squeal as he peels out of the junkyard, the truck fishtailing slightly before catching traction and roaring down the road.

“What the hell were you kids doing out here?” Hopper demands as they barrel through back roads and across dirt paths.

“We were hiding,” Mike says defensively.

“They were chasing us,” Lucas adds.

“Also, I may have told one of the vans to eat dirt,” Maggie tosses in, “I think I rattled them.”

“Jesus Christ,” Hopper mutters, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror.

El presses her forehead to the window, still pale and tired. 

Maggie notices, and subtly nudges Hopper, “She needs real food. And rest. And like three blankets and a cup of cocoa.”

“She’ll get it,” Hopper mutters.

“Wait,” Dustin pipes up, “Where are we even going?”

Hopper doesn’t answer right away. The trees whip past them, light fading fast.

Finally he says, “Somewhere safe. For now.”

Maggie looks out the window, the wind threading through her fingers.