five fugitives, one junkyard

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧

Alina was fed up with being chased. Fed up with the rattle of her heart in her chest, her heavy breathing, her eyes darting back and forth. The wind rushed through her hair as her bike glided down a small hill, a shortcut leading onto another road. Alina knew all of these roads, had walked and biked on their streets many times during her life, but right now everything was a blur of fear and the soft burn in her calves from pedaling, adrenaline rushing through her while she, along with Mike, Dustin, and Eleven, biked down the hill.

Alina looked behind her, only to see the Hawkins Power and Light vans beginning to catch up. "Faster!" she gasped, panic lacing through her. She quickened her speed, her rapidly moving legs a blur as she fought to get away from the vans. Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop.

"Shit!" Dustin swore, his hat rattling on his head as a couple of vans came from the other side of the road. His face was etched with panic, even more than it had been on the cliff at the Quarry. Because he knew that these weren't a couple of school bullies. These were adults with guns and a thirst for vengeance. And they were coming right for them.

"This way," shouted Mike, "come on!"

Alina followed him as he turned onto a driveway, heading onto a grassy path behind the house. The faint cheers of two children could be heard as her bike skidded over the grass, and Alina realized in horror exactly why as her bike began barreling down another hill. Two little girls were chanting some sort of song, slapping each other's hands in a kind of game you only play when you have nothing else to do. And Alina, Mike, Dustin and Eleven were about to crash right into them.

She rang her bell frantically while Dustin shouted for them to move. Finally, the girls turned around, saw that there were three bikes barreling towards them at full speed, and jumped apart with a shriek. Dustin's bike plowed right through, closely followed by Alina's and Mike's, and they rode down a hill back to the main road, gasping for breath.

That was when Alina heard the sounds of a fourth bike on the road and turned around to find Lucas Sinclair catching up to them. He had a camouflage bandanna tied around his head, and he was the best thing Alina had seen all day.

The four bikes slowed to a stop. "Lucas!" Alina shouted, extraordinarily relieved to see him there. "Are you okay?"

Lucas didn't answer, scanning the street for any sign of the Hawkins Power and Light vans. "Where are they?" he asked, panting, his dark eyes narrowed.

"I-I don't know," said Mike, breathing hard.

"I think we lost them," said Dustin, just as there was a screeching of tires, the vans having returned to come and chase them.

"We definitely didn't lose them!" shouted Alina, her heart sinking. For a minute, she'd thought they were safe. But now they were running again.

"Go, go, go, go, go!" Mike yelled, and they were off again, this time with another member alongside them in a camouflage bandanna.

"Faster! Faster!" Lucas's voice had risen around three octaves. All of the party members were screaming, terrified out of their minds, with no choice but to go forward. Just as they did so, however, another van came around the corner in the direction they were heading, effectively blocking the road, and their path to freedom. It was the same tactic Troy and James had used back at the Quarry, but this time there would be no chance of stopping. Their legs were pumping too hard to stop, and they were about to be flattened by the van.

There was no turning around. The vans were on them on either side. The party's screams got even louder, Alina looking around wildly for a solution, the van creeping closer and closer... until it lifted off the ground, floating into the air almost gracefully above their heads. It seemed to last a million seconds, and Alina could see every detail on the soaring van, including the crack in the windshield and the dent in the front.

Then the van crashed onto the ground in front of the other vehicles, stopping them completely. Anyone who had been inside it was dead, Alina knew, their lives snuffed out in that instant. But as she looked over at the perpetrator of this accident, with blood dripping out of her nose, she only felt relief, then panic. What if her dad was in there?

He doesn't care about you, Alina thought fiercely. Stop thinking of him. Stop thinking about him, especially when you're about to die.

But when she looked behind her, Alina saw the men from the Lab getting out of their vans. Besides Doctor Brenner was Brandon Fairgrieves, and a rush of relief went through her that he'd made it.

He doesn't care about you, but you care about him. You want him to stay alive. This didn't sound like her own voice anymore. You're weak.

Alina pedaled harder, even though the danger was gone, and tried to drown it out.

Her palms were itchy, and sweat beaded on her forehead. The energy was building up again, and she needed to let it out, let it out before her hands turned into fire. Her world flickered for a moment, back into the darkness of before, and then the energy sparked off of her.

She continued biking, even as blood ran down her face, even as her tires went over the blackened grass, her eyelids drooping.

They ended up in the junkyard where Mike and Lucas had fought a million years ago. Alina slid off her bike and dropped onto the ground, the coarse grass brushing against her cheeks. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God." Her words slurred together in her exhaustion. She was too tired to even raise an arm to wipe the blood away from her now-bruised face. "Oh, my God. We did it. We're alive. We made it."

"Holy... holy shit!" Dustin let his own bike fall onto the ground. "Did... did you see what she did to that van?"

"No, Dustin, we missed it." Mike rolled his eyes. He'd already helped Eleven off his bike, and the girl sat, panting, her eyes closed, a thin stream of blood coming from one nostril.

"I mean, that was... that was..."

"Awesome," Lucas finished. "It was awesome." Still panting from the chase, he walked over to Eleven, kneeling beside the small girl. "Everything I said about you being a traitor and stuff... I-I was wrong. I'm sorry." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, embarrassment for what he'd done colouring his cheeks.

"Friends..." Eleven began, "friends don't lie. I'm sorry, too."

"Me too," added Mike. For the third time, Mike stuck out his hand for Lucas to shake, to finally conclude this conflict. If there was anything good to come out of the van chase, it was making them realize how petty their fight had been.

Lucas stood up, pausing for a second, before finally grabbing Mike's hand. The two boys shook, both of them embarrassed for brawling. Then, after a moment, Lucas turned to Alina, who had stood up, wiping the blood off of her face, and leaned against the bus for support. His face conveyed so much shame that his shuffle over to her seemed like torture to him.

"I'm so sorry," he told her. "I shouldn't have been so rude to you. I was... I was an asshole. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have called you a liar, and I definitely shouldn't have called you dangerous. What you did while we were biking... it was kind of awesome. You're awesome, Alina, and I know you're not dangerous. And you don't need to be on my side all the time. You're allowed to disagree with me. I'm sorry I didn't realize that."

He stuck out his hand. "Do you want to be friends again?" he asked. "I understand if you don't, but I just thought that I would as—"

Alina grabbed his hand, cutting off his sentence. "Of course," she said. "Of course I will. I can never stay mad at you, Lucas Sinclair."

And Alina Fairgrieves shook Lucas Sinclair's hand, and they held on for perhaps too long. But it didn't matter, because Lucas was back, the shivers in Alina's spine whenever she touched him were back, and the party (minus Will) was together. And with two new members.

She's safe. They're all safe.

Brandon stood outside the Wheeler household, a plume of smoke from his cigarette rising into the November air. He was beside Connie and Brenner, and hoped that Karen Wheeler, who he knew from around town and had even babysat for, would be comforted by his presence.

Mr. Wheeler opened the door. Brandon knew him, too, but not as well. Granted, he seemed nice enough, and easy enough to persuade, although it was the last thing he wanted to do. But he couldn't say that, couldn't even think it.

"Mr. Wheeler?" Connie asked, as Karen came up behind him, confused.

Ted Wheeler blinked. "Yes?"

Connie held up her badge, and Karen's eyes widened. "Brandon," she whispered. "What's going on?"

"We need to come inside," said Brenner, his voice smooth as honey. "You can talk to him when we do so."

The Wheeler family currently at home—Karen, Ted, and Holly, were ushered to the kitchen as the Hawkins Lab employees got to work searching through the house. Karen bounced Holly and looked around nervously, while Ted just let out periodic sighs when he saw men carrying up boxes.

"I'm very sorry about this." Brandon stood beside them, watching his coworkers. "But it's procedure. Don't worry, after it's over you'll get all of your things back in one piece."

"I don't understand." Karen's voice was faint. "What's going on? Why are they here? What did my son do? Where do you come into this?"

"This is—they thought it'd be best to see a familiar face. And... well, I work with these people. I'm so sorry that it had to come to this, but I promise you someone will explain everything. Nobody's in trouble."

"It doesn't feel like that to me!" Karen seemed flustered. "I would like to know what's happening, and I'd like to know right now!"

"Well, you're in luck." Brenner had returned, this time carrying a yellow t-shirt spotted with blood. It was a Benny's Burgers shirt, one of the places Subject Eleven had fled to before finding the boys and Alina. "Come, sit down. This might be hard for you to hear."

Karen and Ted sat down as Connie told them a fabricated story of what had happened. A picture of Subject Eleven glared up at them from the table as the couple tried to process this news.

"I-I... I don't understand." Karen was the first to speak. "You think my son is hiding this girl?"

"What happened to her hair?" Ted asked.

"We just need to know if you've seen her in the past week," said Connie. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her, and she maintained an air of professionalism as she spoke, even if everything she was saying was bullshit.

"No, no."

"Absolutely not," said Ted. "Our son with a girl? I mean, believe me, if he had a girl sleeping in this house, we'd know about it." He turned to his wife. "Wouldn't we?"

"Are you sure?" Brandon spoke up. "Has your son been acting strange or disengaged lately... or even like he's hiding something?"

Karen was silent for a moment before letting out a sigh. "This girl... what has she done?"

"I'm afraid we can't answer that," said Connie.

"Oh, my God," said Ted. "Is she Russian?"

After a while, Brandon tuned this all out, thinking of his daughter. While Karen began to get hysterical, tears running down her face, begging them both to tell her about her son, Brandon fretted about where she was. He only snapped out of his reverie when Brenner sat down, instructing Karen Wheeler to remain calm.

"We will help him," he said, in a voice that was almost hypnotic. "I give you my word. But in order for me to do that... you have to trust me. Will you trust me?"

I need you to trust me. Do you trust me, Alina?

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧

a/n: well, brandon didn't manage to warn them in time, but at least alina and the party are safe, right? there can't possibly be any consequences for his actions, right? we'll see! :)

hope you enjoyed this chapter! thank you so much for 2k reads on this book! that's amazing!

'till next time! :)