Chapter 64

It’s been two weeks my bad😭😬can’t believe the next chapter is the end of season four, what?!?!?!?!

Eddie slaps a newspaper down on the kitchen table. A collage of advertisements stares back at them. He jabs a finger at one.

“Check this out. The War Zone. I’ve been there once. It’s huge. They’ve got everything you need for, uh… well, killing things, basically.”

“You think fake Rambo has enough guns there?” Robin squints at the grainy photos, “Is that a grenade? How is any of this legal?”

“Grenade?” Maggie perks up immediately, sliding the ad toward herself, “We’re allowed grenades now?”

Eddie shakes his head, “Lucky for us, it is legal. Place is just far enough outside Hawkins. We avoid main roads, cops. And, you know, angry hicks.”

“If we’re trying to avoid angry hicks,” Erica says flatly, “maybe we don’t go to a store literally called War Zone.”

Nancy crosses her arms, “Normally, I’d agree. But we need weapons. I think it’s worth the risk.”

“Me too,” Lucas says without hesitation.

“Sure,” Dustin adds, “but is it worth the time? It’ll take all day to bike there and back.”

“Who said anything about bikes?” Eddie smirks.

Steve narrows his eyes, “What, you got some sort of car we don’t know about?”

Eddie stands and steps into Steve’s space, “It’s not exactly a car, Steve. And it’s not exactly mine. But it’ll do.”

He pivots toward Max, “Hey, Red. You got a ski mask? Bandana? Something like that?”

Max takes a moment to think and shrugs, “Something like that. In my trailer. I’ll grab it.”

“I’ll go with you!” Maggie beams.

Max nods toward the door, and they step out into the heavy, gray afternoon. Clouds hang low, fully covering the sun.

“God, I hope this plan works,” Max mutters.

“You and me both,” Maggie says, “I don’t exactly want to be snap, crackle, popped like a Rice Krispie Treat.”

Max huffs a small laugh out as they reach her front door, “Who said you were gonna be bait?”

Maggie stops mid-step, eyes wide, “Uh, me. Maggie Byers. I say that I’m bait.”

They head down the narrow hallway to Max’s room. Max goes straight to her closet, shoving aside clothes until she finds what she’s looking for. She pulls it out with a quiet victory under her breath.

She turns around, holding the old Michael Myers mask she wore for Halloween two years ago.

Maggie giggles, “Oh, that’s perfect.”

Max doesn’t smile back this time.

“Listen,” she says, “I don’t want you to be bait.”

Maggie rolls her eyes lightly, “It’s not negotiable. I’m here to protect you. I’m older. I’m wiser. I have seniority.”

“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t,” Max shoots back, “You can help them out there. You have powers, I mean they could come in handy. If the weapons fail, you’re their last shot.”

Maggie shakes her head, “They might not even work against Vecna. I mean,what am I supposed to do? Cut myself, transfer it, and hope it slows him down? It’s not like I can stab myself in the heart and transfer it to him. I’d already be dead.”

“But being bait is more dangerous. You’ve almost died too many times,” Max says, “The Mindflayer. At Starcourt. Every time, you throw yourself in front of someone, like you think you’re bulletproof.”

“That’s called being helpful.”

“That’s called being reckless,” Max fires back, “And I’m tired of watching you bleed. And so is everyone else.”

“You think Nancy can handle losing you?” Max continues, relentless now, “You think Jonathan can? Will? Your mom? They’ve already buried enough. I’m not letting you add yourself to the list.”

Maggie swallows.

Max goes on, shifting gears,  “With or without your powers, you react fast. You improvise. When things go wrong, you figure something crazy out. I’m better at enduring. If I’m in there with him, I can stall. I can distract. You’re better at pulling me out.”

Maggie shakes her head faintly, “You’re talking like this is a game.”

“I’m talking like this is war,” Max says, “We’re literally about to buy weapons from a place called War Zone. This isn’t theoretical anymore.”

Max meets Maggie’s eyes.

“You are not responsible for me,” Maggie says.

“I know,” Max says gently, “But I get to choose this. And I’d rather it be me than you.”

A somber silence accompanies the battle in Maggie’s mind.

“You don’t get to protect everyone,” Max adds, “Sometimes you have to let someone protect you.”

Maggie looks away, blinking hard.

“This is infuriating,” she mutters.

“Good,” Max replies, “Stay mad. Just stay out of Vecna’s hands.”

Maggie lets out a shaky breath, staring at the Michael Myers mask.

“…You better come back,” she says quietly.

“I will,” Max says immediately, “But I need you out there. Not in his head. With them. Ready.”

Maggie finally nods once.

“Fine,” she says, “But if this goes sideways, I’m breaking every rule.”

Max smirks faintly, “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Maggie nudges her shoulder lightly, “Let’s get back before they think Vecna’s got us both.”

Max nods with a soft smile.

The girls head back toward Eddie’s trailer, gravel crunching under their shoes. The Michael Myers mask dangles from Max’s fingers.

When they step inside, Max tosses the mask to Eddie. He catches it midair.

Steve eyes it, “That’s the best you’ve got?”

Eddie turns the mask over in his hands, “It’s unsettling. It’ll do.”

He pulls it over his head. The white face tilts slightly to the side.

Robin squints, “You look like a Halloween clearance rack.”

“What exactly is the plan here?” Nancy asks, arms crossed.

Eddie’s voice comes out muffled, “Just trust me and follow my lead.”

“That’s never ended badly,” Steve mutters.

Eddie swings the door open and strides out. Everyone exchanges a look that says this is insane before trailing after him.

“Stay low and quiet,” Eddie instructs.

They circle around the back of the trailer. Eddie peeks around the corner, mask first, then jerks his head back.

He motions them forward.

They move in a tight, awkward clump. Maggie nearly bumps into Robin, who nearly trips over Dustin, who nearly faceplants into Erica.

Eddie starts walking faster. And then he’s sprinting.

They tear across the small trailer park. A couple sitting outside their trailer, mid-conversation, are completely oblivious to the sight of a masked lunatic leading a parade of teenagers.

Eddie swerves right, waving frantically for them to go around the back of the trailer. He grabs a half-open window, shoves it up higher, and climbs through.

Steve follows with a grunt. Nancy slips through more gracefully. Robin almost gets stuck halfway and has to wiggle. The kids pile in after.

Maggie flops down on the couch inside, pressing a hand to her chest, “I hate cardio.”

The interior smells faintly of cigarettes and old carpet. Someone’s crocheted blanket is draped over the back of the couch.

Maggie pops back up and darts to the front just as Eddie drops to his knees under the steering column, pulling wires free.

She leans over him, “Hot-wiring. Nice touch.”

Steve crouches beside her, “Where did you learn to do this?”

Eddie strips two wires with practiced ease, “Well, while the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish and play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire. I swore I wouldn’t end up like him. But now I’m wanted for murder and now grand theft auto.”

Robin rushes up front, “Eddie, I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving.”

Eddie glances back at her, “Relax. I’m just starting this thing, Harrington’s got her.”

He turns to Steve with a grin, “Don’t you, big boy?”

Steve freezes.

“Gay!” Maggie shouts, pointing before darting toward the back of the RV.

Steve sputters, “That’s not— I mean— That’s not what—”

The engine roars to life with a violent shake.

Outside, yelling erupts.

The trailer’s owners are suddenly at the door, pounding furiously, “HEY! WHAT THE HELL?!”

“Everybody hang on to something!” Steve shouts.

Maggie drops straight to the floor and wraps her arms around the base of a seat, “I don’t even have health insurance!”

“Oh my God, oh my God, drive, Steve, drive!” Dustin shrieks.

Steve slams the gas.

The RV lurches forward. The pounding on the door fades as they shoot out of the trailer’s tiny yard.

“We’re so back!” Maggie cackles from the floor, hair in her face.

“Hold on!” Steve yells, wrenching the wheel hard to the left.

The RV fishtails slightly as they tear out of the trailer park, gravel spraying behind them. Erica screams something unintelligible.

Once they hit the main road, the ride smooths out.

Everyone slowly peels themselves off whatever surface they clung to.

Eddie stays up front in the passenger seat. Steve grips the wheel, focused, but keeping casual conversation.

Robin, Nancy, and Maggie cluster together in the middle seats. Maggie’s leg is bouncing with leftover adrenaline. Nancy is already calculating how much prison time this could technically carry.

In the back, Dustin, Lucas, and Max sit on the couch, breathing hard. Poor Erica is gripping an armrest, trying not to lose her shit.

“You know, Eds,” Maggie calls, propping her chin on the back of Steve’s seat, “I missed committing crimes with you.”

Eddie laughs, “I did too, Mags. I did too.”

Nancy crosses her arms, “I didn’t.”

Maggie nudges her shoulder, “Oh, c’mon, Nance. The police love me.”

“They tolerate you,” Nancy replies, “Barely.”

Maggie grins, “That’s basically a fan club in this town.”

Steve exhales slowly, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

The ride to War Zone takes a maximum of thirty minutes, though it feels longer with Dustin narrating worst-case scenarios from the backseat.

The sun is bright, glinting off the fake rockets mounted on the massive sign out front. The parking lot is packed.

They pile out of the RV.

Inside, the store is exactly what you’d expect from an ammo store. The air smells like gun oil and rubber. Racks of rifles line the walls. Glass cases showcase handguns. Shelves sag under ammo boxes, knives, crossbows, survival manuals, gas masks, and enough camo to hide anything.

Robin slowly turns in a circle, “So much for avoiding angry hicks.”

“Let’s be…fast,” Nancy says.

“Yep,” Maggie agrees.

“Definitely,” Erica says, adjusting her backpack.

They split up.

Erica heads toward tactical flashlights and batteries. Steve heads for the baseball bats and camping gear.  Robin grabs rope, duct tape, fuel, and anything labeled “industrial strength.” Nancy moves straight for the long guns.

Maggie drifts through the aisle with growing excitement, hands brushing over grenade replicas before finding the very real ones in a locked case that an employee has just opened for someone else. She waits and watches, and then somehow ends up holding several, cradled against her chest.

She strolls up behind Nancy, who’s examining a shotgun.

“Nance,” Maggie whispers, “look what I’ve got.”

Nancy turns and has to do a double-take. She stares at the cluster of grenades hugging Maggie’s torso.

“No.”

“But why?” Maggie whines, eyes sparkling, “This is my one chance to finally blow something up.”

“Or blow someone up,” Nancy counters, adjusting her grip on the shotgun, “Or yourself. Or the RV. Or the entire state of Indiana.”

Maggie pouts, “You’re killing my dreams.”

“I’m trying to prevent your obituary.”

A voice cuts in from beside them.

“Nancy Wheeler. Maggie Byers.”

They both turn.

Jason Carver stands there looking like he hasn’t slept in days. His hair is a mess and there’s a wild, dangerous look in his eyes. A pistol rests casually in his hand.

“Wouldn’t expect to find you here,” he says.

Nancy’s spine goes straight.

She pastes on a tight smile, “Scary times.”

His gaze flicks to the shotgun in her hands.

“I’m…sorry about Chrissy,” she adds softly.

He nods once, “Want my advice? Shotguns aren’t good for much past killing small birds.”

He steps closer, invading space.

“They’ve got power, sure. But no range. Forces you into close-hand combat.”

His hand shoots out, grabbing the barrel. He jerks it sharply.

“Then someone can just grab it like this… and redirect it.”

Maggie shifts instantly, stepping between them, grenades still clutched in her arms.

“You want my advice?” she says evenly, “Step away before you get your jaw broken. Or are you just asking for a round two? Didn’t look too great for you the first time, did it?”

Jason’s jaw tightens. His eyes drag over her face.

“Aren’t you friends with that freak?” he says, “The one who killed Chrissy?”

The store noise drowns around them.

Maggie’s voice goes flat, “I haven’t seen him since he disappeared. Don’t know where he is. Don’t have a hotline to fugitives.”

He studies her, trying to see through bone.

“Right,” he says finally, with a small mocking smile, “Well. Don’t you worry. We’ll find him.”

“Great,” Maggie replies sweetly, “Because I was losing sleep wondering.”

Nancy gently pulls the shotgun back from Jason’s grip, “We’re done here.”

She turns to the counter and pays quickly.

Maggie sets her grenades down with a grin, not wanting to let them go. The employee gives her a strange look, but rings them up anyway. They regroup at the end of the aisle.

Erica appears first, arms loaded with flashlights and batteries.

“Jason and his buddies are here,” she whispers.

“We just had a delightful bonding moment,” Maggie mutters, “We need to leave.”

Across the store, Robin locks eyes with them. Steve notices the tension instantly. He nods once. Time to go.

They move fast, but not fast enough to look like they’re fleeing. They shove everything into the RV.

“What happened?” Lucas asks from inside.

“We’ve gotta go,” Steve says, already sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Your old friends are here,” Erica tells Lucas.

Dustin practically tackles Steve with urgency, “Drive. Please. Before we get totally jumped.”

Steve doesn’t argue. The engine roars and the tires squeal as they peel out of the parking lot.

In the side mirror, Maggie catches a glimpse of Jason stepping out of the store, scanning the lot.

They drive for several minutes in tense silence before turning off onto a dirt road that leads to a wide, empty field bordered by trees.

Steve kills the engine.

“Well,” Robin says faintly, “That was fun.”

They unload everything onto the ground. The smell of oil and dust mixes with the summer air.

Dustin and Eddie start putting together makeshift spiked shields made of nails and metal trash can covers. Steve and Robin prepare Molotov cocktails, which Maggie thinks aren’t needed with the presence of her grenades. Lucas and Erica sit together, attaching knives to sticks to create spears.

Maggie sits beside Nancy and Max. Max holds the shotgun steady as Nancy takes a handsaw to it and begins to cut through the barrel of the firearm.

“Is this legal?” Max asks.

“Actually, I think it’s a felony,” Nancy says, “But it guarantees one thing. I won’t miss.”

She slams her hand against the barrel, and it falls to the ground.

“You know this all seems like overkill when I have my grenades,” Maggie says with her cheek pressed to Nancy’s leg.

“You got grenades?” Max asks with a smile.

“Of course I did,” Maggie scoffs, “I was not gonna pass up that opportunity.”

Nancy smirks, “We’re not blowing up the house. You’d get us all killed.”

“Well, we don’t know that if we don’t try,” Maggie reasons.

“You’ll blow us all up,” Maggie and Max say in unison.

Once they have everything prepared, the group piles their weaponry back into the RV. And now begins their drive to the Creel house.

The engine hums and the tires crunch, but that is all they canb hear. There’s no music or arguing or light-hearted conversation to lift spirits. Everyone stares straight ahead or out the window.

Lucas grips his wrists, holding himself together. Max sits rigid, eyes fixed on nothing. Dustin keeps adjusting his hat over and over. Steve drives with both hands tight on the wheel, knuckles pale. Robin’s knee bounces. Maggie wrings her hands over and over, staring at the detailed lines. Nancy checks the shotgun again, even though she already checked it twice.

Eddie watches the sky.

The sun is lowering, bleeding into the horizon, turning the world a golden orange.

No one says it out loud, but they’re all thinking the same thing. There’s no telling who could be killed.

The Creel house comes into view slowly, rising out of the trees. The RV rolls to a stop.

A crow calls somewhere in the distance. The wind pushes through dead leaves, dragging them across the yard.

Maggie gives Max a tight hug.

“Be safe,” she whispers.

“You too,” Max whispers back.

Maggie pulls the Sinclairs into a hug as well, despite Erica’s protests.

“Don’t die,” Maggie says with a smile.

“Not planning on it,” Lucas tells her, matching her smile.

Max, Lucas, and Erica step out with their lanterns in hand.

Eddie tilts his head to the window and looks at the sky one more time. The orange light spills across his face, catching in his eyes. The day is slipping away fast, the sun sinking lower. Whatever waits inside that house is already in motion, already counting down. The plan is dangerous and reckless, and doesn’t promise everyone walks away.

Time feels thinner, tightly stretched, and ready to snap. And for Eddie, this is the last time he’ll see the sun.