THE LINE WAS STILL SILENT. Kevin had been feverishly punching in the numbers to his house, Scoops Ahoy, Robin's house, and just about every household Amara's friends resided ever since he and the others learned the full implications behind what had started as magnets no longer sticking to fridges and whiteboards. The Russians had indeed infiltrated Hawkins, and they were fucking reopening the gate to the fucking Upside Down. He wasn't alone in his worry – Hopper had raided the kitchen for alcohol to quell his racing nerves, and Joyce was also trying to contact Will and his friends. To make matters worse it was the Fourth of July, the day Eurydice and Scott would be returning from New York and unknowingly walking into an ambush.

        "Hello, you've reached the Reid residence. Please leave – "

"Goddammit!" Kevin slammed the phone onto the hook so harshly that the device rattled. He instinctively pivoted to the kitchen, hoping that Murray Bauman, the ex-journalist-turned-conspiracy-theorist-turned-right-all-along owner of the warehouse the four travelers were inhabiting for the time being, the only person Hopper knew to be fluent in Russian, hadn't overheard the din. Luckily, he hadn't.

"No luck, I'm guessing?" Joyce queried, having hung up the phone in a far more delicate manner than her co-worker. She was frazzled as she typically was when her children and their friends were in danger, grateful that she hadn't ignored her hunch that something was off once again.

"Nope," Kevin sighed. "It went to voicemail, again. The Hendersons and the Sinclairs didn't pick up either, and Mrs. Wheeler told me everyone went to the movies yesterday. She hasn't seen them since."

"Did she tell you which ones?" was what Joyce asked next, anxiously shifting on her heels.

"No, just Mike and his friends," Kevin relayed. "I didn't have the chance to ask more before one of her friends called, but I'm assuming that Will's one of them."

"Okay, that's good to know," Joyce murmured, appearing the slightest bit relieved to have some indication of where one of her kids was last even if she didn't know where he and his friends were now. "And what about your sister?"

"Nothing," Kevin shook his head somberly, eyes fixed on his tattered reeboks. He felt like such a shitty brother; he was supposed to protect Amara from everything from insecure bullies to their parents finding out about the Upside Down, and he had failed spectacularly. Not only did he not know where she was but she likely didn't know where he was, either. "I feel so stupid, I shouldn't have come along – "

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," Joyce enveloped Kevin in a hug, leaning on her toes to reach him fully. The two of them had worked at Melvald's together for nearly three years and were closer than most co-workers, having known each other long enough for him to reveal that Amara had entrusted him with the truth of the supernatural realm and for her to enlist his help in deducing what had caused the magnets to fall in the first place, which they now understood the answer to. "Look, I don't know Amara that well, but she seems like a very strong person. I'm sure she's fine wherever she is."

"I should've at least told her where I was going," Kevin persisted, though he melted into Joyce's embrace: she had a motherly aura about her and it was very difficult to not feel comforted by her presence. Unless she was unleashing her rage upon someone, which she had done to Murray in spectacular fashion upon their arrival yesterday, causing all four men present to quake in their boots. "I told her about the magnets – heck, she tripped on one. She even theorized that the Russians were the ones building the machine because of the... oh, sweet baby Jesus."

"What?" Joyce inquired, releasing Kevin.

"Amara knew about the Russians in the first place because of some Russian broadcast one of her friends picked up," Kevin informed Joyce, renewed adrenaline invoking him to pace the perimeter of the office. "It has to be connected to this, and I bet she's involved somehow. She doesn't know when to quit, I'm telling you."

"But, are you sure – "

"Two years ago, she saw the Demogorgon in the middle of the road and went right back the next day to see if she could find it again," Kevin contested, almost grinning in disbelief at the memory of just how rash his sister could be at times. "I guarantee you she did the same with that transmission, she's too reckless for her own good. That's why I can't reach her, because she's probably gotten herself in trouble somehow. And if she knows about this, then your kids could as well."

"Which is why I can't reach them either," Joyce concluded, questioning why she hadn't realized that sooner. Every time she or Hopper or Will had been mixed up in anything concerning the Upside Down their paths would eventually merge and they would find that their companions had also been involved in some shape or form. While she and Hopper had been looking for Will, his friends had been, too. And Amara and her compatriots had faced down the same pack of Demodogs that had mauled everyone at Hawkins Lab, including her dear Bob. In the end, it was always holistic.

"We have to tell the others," Kevin determined, to which Joyce nodded. Without wasting another second the two of them rushed back into the living room, where Hopper had one hand pressed to his forehead in exhaustion, Murray was refilling his and the former's drinks, and Alexei was sketching up more of the layout for the room the machine was located in, somewhat disgruntled that he couldn't watch more Looney Tunes. All three of them glanced up when Kevin and Joyce entered the room.

"Well?" Hopper interrogated, cigarette smoke leaving his mouth in a puff of air. "Anything?"

"No, but we think they might already know," Kevin briefed Hopper, plonking himself on the stool adjacent to the couch Murray and Alexei were occupying. "There was some Russian dispatch my sister and her friends overheard a few days ago, and knowing her she's likely involved. But we can't reach any of them. Anything on your end?"

"Smirnoff says there's a way to turn off the machine," Hopper muttered. Kevin rolled his eyes at the fact that the man was still dubbing Alexei by that term long after he had agreed to disclose the details of the Russian operation, even if it had taken time. "But it's in some underground fortress that's supposedly impossible to break into, so we're going to have to contact the military."

"Underground fortress... " Kevin murmured, hoping beyond belief that Amara hadn't gotten herself trapped down there. But knowing his sister and her idiotic but simultaneously ingenious friends, he wouldn't have put it past them to have found a way in. "Where is this fortress?" he inquired of Alexei.

"он говорит, где эта крепость?" Murray reiterated to Alexei in Russian. Breaking into the decrepit Hawkins Lab had only introduced them to the fucking Russian Terminator who was presumably still searching for them, and investigating the houses near the power plant had confirmed that the Russians were siphoning energy from the electrical grid to power the machine. But the apparatus hadn't been there, because the Russians were smart enough to conceal it somewhere beyond where most people would look. Now that Kevin thought about it, the houses by the power plant were all properties of –

"под торговым центром Starcourt," Alexei answered. Even in Russian, Kevin knew what it implied before Murray translated it for them.

"He says, under the Starcourt Mall," Murray transcribed, but Kevin had already shot up from the stool. Of course it was the goddamn mall; the Russians had excavated a network beneath Hawkins' soil and planted a trendy mall right on top, and the townspeople of Hawkins had naturally fallen for it, because who couldn't resist the joys capitalism had to offer? And it had paid off for the Russians, for nobody other than a select group of individuals familiar with supernatural commodities had caught wind of anything.

"That's where she is," Kevin resolved, not even considering the fact that most of the evidence pointed against him. "That's why I can't contact her. She literally works at the mall – she's bound to have found a way in."

"I don't think you're hearing the part about it being in an impenetrable fortress," Hopper argued, not even bothering to take Kevin seriously. Sure as he was that the military could bust in somehow, he doubted a teenage girl could if thin Rambo couldn't in the words of Alexei. "There's no way your sister could've made it in."

Kevin squared his shoulders, looking the man who had been nothing more than a nuisance throughout the duration of their journey dead in the eye. "Well, I think you underestimate her."

COCOONED WITHIN THE SUPPOSEDLY IMPREGNABLE FORTRESS, the mismatched trio of Erica, Amara, and Dustin finally emerged from the air ducts, courtesy of a loose hatch in the floorboards of what appeared to be a storage compartment for the green vials. Back in the elevator, the substance inside the cylinders had hardly been their biggest concern as they'd been more preoccupied with finding a way out, but now that Amara knew what they were intended for, she would've been tempted to destroy every damn one if it didn't risk compromising their location.

"Jackpot," Dustin declared, hoisting himself up; the others followed, keeping their footsteps as light as the grated floor permitted them to. With a quick scan of the room, the three of them determined themselves to be alone – all they needed was to keep it that way long enough to make it back to the elevator and return with help as Robin and Steve had instructed them to, but it had taken them almost a day just to travel through the vents and they still had that endless hallway to contend with. If it took them twelve-and-a-half-days for them to make it that far per Erica's math, the odds of their friends surviving were very slim.

"Oh-ho-ho!" Dustin had unearthed a transport vehicle that made their journey back far more bearable, hurrying down the stairs leading to it. "You up for a drive, Amara?"

"Between that and walking down that hallway again, definitely the first option," Amara replied. She was still apprehensive regarding Steve and Robin's safety and unsure if they were even still alive, but finally exiting the stuffy interior of the air ducts and uncovering a more efficient method of transport were helpful factors in clearing her mind enough to properly focus while driving.

"Aw, come on," Dustin bemoaned upon catching no sight of a key in the ignition, not that Amara was expecting there to be one.

"You seriously thought they'd just leave keys in there?" Erica quipped, once again mirroring Amara in a snarkier, more upfront manner.

"There's gotta be a spare," Dustin pointed out. He and Amara proceeded to scour for the spare key they needed to operate the cart, for none of them knew how to hot-wire it nor felt like traveling on foot more than they already had. Checking above and beneath the automobile only to be met with no key, neither of them took notice of Erica's discovery.

"Hey, guys?" she queried. Dustin had hopped down from the cart in disappointment and Amara was rifling through the back compartment. Neither of them paid her any mind, but Amara hoped that Erica hadn't picked up on approaching footsteps or the whirring of machinery. Luckily, they had a ventilation system they could dive right back into if needed.

"Yeah?" Dustin muttered, not paying full attention.

"How big did you say that Demogorgon was?" Erica questioned, her eyesight directed at the steel cage that loomed over her.

"Why do you ask?" this time it was Amara who responded, closing the back door in dissatisfaction. She momentarily paused her endeavor to locate a key and followed Erica's line of sight, her eyes widening upon deciphering what the girl had been referring to. It seemed as though the Russians were more familiar with the Upside Down than she and the others had initially presumed, and it terrified her more than she already was if that was even possible at this point. "Oh, shit."

"Big. Nine feet or so," Dustin stated nonchalantly, too engrossed in his task to catch what his companions had encountered. "Why?"

Disregarding what the Russians planned on employing a Demogorgon for, Amara rejoined Dustin, who was now digging through a set of drawers. The cage revealed nothing new, only that they needed to close the gate as soon as they could. Upon finding nothing useful, Dustin produced his screwdriver and tried his luck with a storage cabinet, this time uncovering what they had been searching for.

"Found 'em," Dustin grinned toothily, only for his smile to drop no sooner than it had materialized. "Erica?"

Before Amara had a chance to panic upon having lost sight of Erica and once again antagonize herself for being a horrible babysitter, a zapping of electricity resulted in her and Dustin jolting in fright. Whipping around to face Erica, they found her equipped with what appeared to be a cattle prod and a mischievous smirk to match.

"What the hell is that?!" Dustin recoiled, eyeing the device warily.

"A deadly weapon. Could be useful," Erica shrugged, zapping it again with no regard for how hazardous it was despite how she'd referred to it. Dustin and Amara flinched again, and the latter pried it out of the girl's grip before she could unintentionally electrocute herself or either of them.

"For what?" Dustin retorted, not seeing her point.

"What do you think?" Erica shot back, irritated that Amara wasn't letting her wield the weapon. "Taking down Commies, saving your friends."

"Thought you were more realistic than that, nerd," Dustin disputed. "We don't even know where they are, and even if we did, there are a million guards up there with weapons way deadlier than that. The best thing we can do for them is to get out of here and find help."

While Amara understood Dustin's logic, they didn't have the luxury of time to formulate a calculated plan to rescue their friends. They'd already been separated for nearly a day and even if the cart significantly sped up the process of making it to the elevator, there was a very real possibility that the Russians could kill or severely injure Robin and Steve during the time at which it took to reach the surface, mobilize aid, and return. Saving their friends with nothing but a cattle prod for defense wasn't strategic, but they didn't have many other prospects.

"Normally I'd agree with you, but we don't have the time for that," Amara spoke up fervently. Dustin and Erica had crammed into the vehicle but she made no move to join them. "Getting help won't matter if the Russians kill them while we're gone. Look, I don't care if saving them without backup is foolish or not well-thought-out enough. I can't lose them, Dustin. I can't."

"Okay, but even if we did that, we don't know where they are," Dustin contended, even though he was aware that Amara wasn't going to back down easily. It was no less than he anticipated from her. "We're more likely to die than save them if we do this alone."

"I don't care, I really don't," Amara asserted, her voice cracking mid-sentence. It wasn't logic: it was an unyielding devotion to salvage two individuals who meant the world to her. Her vulnerability was enough to convince Dustin to view their situation from her perspective even if he wasn't keen on agreeing with her. "I'm not leaving them behind. They'd do the same for us."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, nerd," Erica piped up, prompting Dustin to face her. "But you're outnumbered. Let's go kick some Commie ass."

"Okay, okay, jeez!" Dustin conceded, slapping his hand against his forehead in irritation. Of all the surprises they'd come across, Amara and Erica teaming up against him had to be the biggest one. "But back to my earlier point, we still don't know where they are – "

"Yeah, we don't," Amara agreed, her gaze shifting to the abundance of green vials she had briefly been tempted to shatter. Perhaps she'd get her wish after all, and better yet it would be to rescue Steve and Robin. "But if we could draw the guards to a particular location, we'd see where they're coming from... "

WITH ENOUGH GREEN VIALS to eat away at the floor and cause a diversion, Dustin, Erica, and Amara settled on the courtyard as it was an area reminiscent of the hub with various hallways funneling into it. The drive there didn't take as long as Amara had predicted it to, and she was grateful that they didn't run into any passerby who would've easily caught sight of their lack of Russian uniforms. She parked the cart in an enclave near the electrical cabinet the five of them had hidden behind less than 24 hours ago, cautiously stepping out along with the others.

Cartridges in hand, the three of them inched their way over to the red trunk on the outskirts of the courtyard, crouching behind it. It was crazy to think that they'd just been there, endeavoring to infiltrate the comms room and notify their friends of their whereabouts. This time, the enclosure was significantly less populated, but they couldn't risk anyone discovering them when Robin and Steve were already in their grasp. But in the end, they'd all go down fighting or escape by some miracle.

"Okay, remember," Amara whispered, having formulated a rough idea that scarcely qualified as a plan, but a plan nonetheless. "We're going to break open the vials and spill them onto the ground – "

"Then hide behind the cart," Dustin finished.

"Wait for the alarm to go off," Erica recited, uncharacteristically serious for once. She was by far the bravest ten-year-old Amara had ever met.

"Then... " Amara held up the cattle prod for effect. "Okay. You guys ready?"

"Ready," Erica and Dustin responded in sync.

"Okay, let's go." The three of them equipped themselves with one cylinder each, and Amara idly wondered how robust they had to be if they could momentarily hold off a closing elevator door. After knocking them against the floor (and somehow not attracting any awareness from the guards) didn't succeed, they resorted to using the cattle prod, leaving a glowing ring of radioactivity Amara hoped wouldn't contaminate them. There had to be a basis for why scientists attired themselves in hazmat suits while handling the cartridges, but they could worry about radiation poisoning another time.

They quickly scurried back behind the cart before anyone could glimpse them, tucking themselves as far away from sight as possible. Amara could faintly pick up on the sizzle of the green substance corroding the floor and the footsteps of Russian soldiers as they took notice as well. She clutched the cattle prod in the hope of grounding herself; it didn't provide the same solace as her trusty crowbar, but it was comfort nonetheless.

The same alarm to have separated the three of them from their friends reverberated across the entirety of the base and they sprung to their feet, eyes peeled to specify which direction their adversary would emerge from. By now a cluster of soldiers had encircled the evidence that the three intruders to slip through their fingers were still at large, the liquid having burrowed a sizable hole in the ground. Amara, Dustin, and Erica's cue came in the form of what looked to be a Russian general materializing to investigate the commotion.

"Now!" Amara hissed. The three of them tore in the approximate path the general had come from while he and his subordinates were otherwise occupied. Veering to the right, they found a single door in front of them, and Amara activated the cattle prod in the event that they would end up confronting someone. Readying themselves for anything that might await them on the other side, they burst into the room to find the two people they had moved heaven and earth just to get back to... and a doctor of sorts with a set of pliers fastened to Steve's nails.

Amara didn't even think. She drove the cattle prod right into the doctor's arm.

The doctor consequently stumbled back and released Steve, convulsing uncontrollably. She tugged the device back and dropped it to the floor with a clatter but the damage was done; she was left to stand in shock at her own actions as the doctor crashed into a rolling table and onto the ground, where he twitched before falling utterly still. What Amara had presumed to be a shocking device appeared to be more lethal when inflicted upon humans rather than species from the Upside Down as it was presumably designed for, for they could withstand conditions humans couldn't.

"Oh, God," Amara gasped, her hands flying to her face. She'd killed someone, she'd killed someone, she'd killed someone –

"Amara, help me out!" Dustin exhorted, straining to remove the binds securing Steve and Robin. Both of them looked worse for wear, a red handprint on Robin's cheek and Steve's face embellished with bruises and dried blood, a sight that was all too familiar for him. It was enough for her to push aside what she'd just done – what everyone in her old neighborhood continuously claimed she'd ultimately do – and free their friends.

"Amara! That's crazy, we were talking about you earlier," Steve slurred, peering at the girl who had stormed into the interrogation room like a fucking knight in shining armor with dilated brown eyes. "You look pretty."

Amara ducked her head before Steve could detect her reddening cheeks. It was unusual for him to compliment her on the basis of her looks; he called her smart and funny and capable and a badass, but not pretty, save for when he complimented her on her prom dress back in June, which was expected. Either way, she chose not to think too much of it, concentrating on unfastening the shackles around his wrists.

The first sign that something was wrong with Robin and Steve was the fact that neither of them made any move to get up from their chairs upon release. They appeared perfectly content to remain sitting as though they didn't still have a Russian bunker they needed to vacate, a stark contrast from the brave souls who had held back a drove of guards long enough for their friends to escape. The second indication was how unfocused their gazes were and that they kept laughing for no reason every few seconds.

"Come on, let's go!" Erica demanded, attempting to lift Robin into a standing position; with assistance from Dustin, the two of them were able to succeed by bracing her arms over their shoulders. Amara did the same to Steve, practically collapsing under his weight. It didn't help that when she turned her head the lifeless doctor entered her periphery, reminding her that she had been the one to render him that way.

It was a Herculean labor to lug the two of them back to the cart, which was thankfully not too far away from the interrogation room. The base was now swarming with soldiers, all of whom had their guns drawn and were barking out commands in Russian. It was a miracle that none of them caught the five of them what with how vociferous Steve and Robin were being, but they somehow made it back to the transport vehicle. The Russians had evidently done more to them than just physical blows.

Amara couldn't slam her foot on the accelerator fast enough once they'd shoved Robin and Steve into the back compartment. Erica and Dustin were packed to her right, preferring that over being alongside their friends who seemed entirely okay with revealing their whereabouts. For someone who quivered just considering traveling above the speed limit, even when they were in a rush to draw the Demodogs away from the gate, fleeing a horde of angry Russians compelled Amara to drive as though on a highway, which she'd never done before.

"Jesus, slow down!" Steve garbled from the back. That was another sign he wasn't himself – he knew better than to speak up when Amara was nervous while driving, something he had learned after their escapade in the tunnels.

"Yeah, what is this, like the Indy 500?" Robin added. Okay, that was definitely concerning.

"It's the Indy 300," Steve corrected. Amara tried her hardest to tune them out but they weren't making it easy for her. Luckily, it was a straight shot from the courtyard to the elevator and she didn't need to worry about turning.

"No, dingus, it's 500!"

"It's 300!"

"Let's say a million," Robin reasoned. The two of them burst into a fit of giggles, collapsing against the walls of the cart and only unnerving Amara more than she already was. What had the Russians done to them?

"What is wrong with them?" Erica clamored above the din of Steve and Robin's laughter, shooting Dustin and Amara a concerned glance.

"I don't know," Amara shook her head, hazel eyes fixed on the road ahead of her. "It has to be the Russians, I'm sure of it."

She braked to a stop upon reaching the elevator, promptly exiting the vehicle along with Dustin and Erica. They unlocked the door to the back but once again Steve and Robin didn't shift from their sprawled positions. Amara spared an infinitesimal glimpse at her watch to find that it read a quarter to eight, but she didn't know what time of the day it implied. She had no concept of time anymore, only an unwavering determination to protect her friends and finally contact the others.

"Come on. We gotta go now," Dustin pressed, but the two occupants in the back didn't heed his urgency.

"Come on! Get out!" Erica exclaimed. Dustin yanked Steve out so that he tumbled onto the floor with a pained yelp, striding to the elevator door with the stolen keycard in hand. Amara was slightly more gentle with Robin, grasping her wrist and ensuring that she didn't too fall. Within time, the elevator door lifted and the five of them were back in the exact enclosure to have landed them in such trouble.

The journey back up to the surface was similarly stressful to their unplanned descent (how many days ago was it? Two?) but for different reasons. While they now had a keycard and were able to operate the control panel, Amara, Dustin, and Erica were in the reverse position of having to babysit Steve and Robin. The former had balanced himself on an empty forklift cart, the very same one Amara had gripped onto so intensely when they had plummeted downward, while the latter maneuvered him around with the cart handles, both of them still laughing uncontrollably.

"Hey! You look like you're surfing!" Robin remarked. Amara couldn't pinpoint what it was that the Russians had done to her and Steve, but she hoped at the very least that it would wear off eventually.

"Surfing! Yeah!"

"They seem drunk," Erica commented from beside Dustin, flinching as Steve nearly crashed into her.

"Why would they be drunk?" Dustin countered above their antics. He couldn't fathom why Russians would store alcohol in a covert underground base of all places, even if Erica did bring up a good point.

"They're definitely not in their right mind, though," Amara pointed out. She hadn't been to enough parties to gauge the distinctions between a person's behavior when they were drunk but recalled the side effects to be a lack of coordination, slurred speech, and the disclosure of sober thoughts – all factors the Russians could have used to their advantage, especially if Robin and Steve weren't willing to divulge anything to them. The possibility of them being inebriated wasn't so far-fetched, and Amara felt a jolt of terror inch down her spine at the notion that she would have ended up in a similar condition had she also been captured. "I mean, look at them."

"I'm a natural! Check it out!" Steve shouted, still suspended on the forklift. Robin jerked it from underneath him, propelling him into a stack of boxes marked for Kaufman Shoes. He collided with the floor in a heap of tangled limbs, but even that couldn't stop him from giggling.

"Wipeout!" Robin cheered, brandishing her arms.

Dustin was now hovering over Steve, pressing a hand against his forehead despite his protests. "He's burning up," he relayed to Erica and Amara, who glanced at one another with wide eyes.

"You're burning up," Steve disputed, straining to push Dustin off of him.

Robin had perched herself on the cart in an almost bored fashion, and Amara made her way over to her best friend to check on her as Dustin was doing to Steve. "Rob, talk to me," she coaxed, crouching down so she was level with her. She figured the best way to learn what the Russians had done to them was to go about a more psychological approach. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than ever, 'Mara!" Robin cried, and she almost looked it despite her far-off gaze and sluggish motions. "I finally gave the dingus a chance like you said I should, I was honest and open with him, and now we're best friends! Right, Popeye?"

"Best friends!" Steve repeated before Amara had a chance to contemplate what Robin could have meant.

Dustin was now prying open his good eye with incredible difficulty. "His pupils are super dilated," he informed Amara and Erica. The former pivoted to face Robin again and found that her eyes were as well, the inky black of her pupils so enlarged they nearly drowned out the sky blue.

"Maybe he's drugged," Erica offered. Now that Amara thought about it, the possibility of their friends being anesthetized was far more plausible than them being drunk. She had never done weed but knew that Steve did on occasion, and Eurydice had once recounted a tale of her smoking a joint in an act of rebellion against her parents in high school. The effects of narcotics were quite similar to those of alcohol, and she wouldn't put it past the Russians to possess them in the event that someone broke into their facility, which the five of them had.

"Steve, are you drugged?" Dustin questioned, but there was a part of him that already knew the answer.

"How many times, Dad?" Steve slurred, squinting up at Dustin. "I don't do drugs. It's only marijuana."

"This isn't funny, okay?" Dustin persisted, his heart sinking in his chest at how far gone the boy who was something of an older brother to him was at the moment. "I need to know what they did to you. Are you gonna die on us?"

"We all die, my strange little child friend," Robin piped up, absentmindedly toying with her short hair and providing the three individuals who had been fortunate to avoid the effects of whatever it was she and Steve were under enough to know about their current condition. "It's just a matter of how... and when."

"Okay, let's just assume they're drugged," Amara concluded, aware that their friends weren't in the right state of mind to give them any concrete answers. "We're almost there, we need a game plan."

"Steve, I need you to tell me where you parked your car," Dustin chose to say, determining that the best course of action for them was to flee the premises before anyone else could detect them and take refuge in one of their houses until they could correspond with their friends.

"Oh, can we make a quick stop at the food court?" Steve queried. That alone confirmed to Amara that he wasn't in the right headspace to drive.

"I would kill for a hot dog on a stick," Robin added. The sockets of her eyes were now red in the corners.

"All right. Yeah, food," Dustin promised. He, Erica, and Amara were all famished themselves but understood that their main priority was staying alive long enough to make it a few more hours without food. "Yes, you can have as much food as you want, but only if you tell me where your car is parked."

"Uh-oh," Steve spoke as though just realizing something of importance. It was by far the most coherent response he'd offered so far.

    "Uh-oh?" Dustin echoed, not fully comprehending him.

"The car's off the board," Steve admitted, turning the pockets of his Scoops uniform inside out to reveal that they were vacant. "They took the keys. The Russians, they took the keys. Like, forever ago. That's a bummer, right?"

As he and Robin broke out laughing once more, Dustin turned to Amara in desperation. "Please tell me you didn't lose your keys too, Amara," he practically begged.

"I didn't, don't worry," Amara informed Dustin, who exhaled in relief. She delved into her pocket to extract her keys, holding them up for confirmation. "But my car's all the way at the back, there were no spots left."

"I can work with that," Dustin capitulated. At long last, the elevator had slowed to a stop and fresh air awaited them for the first time in days. "Okay, let's go."

But their plans changed no sooner than the double doors unlocked and the quintet trooped outdoors, Steve and Robin gushing about how they could taste the nighttime air. It was indeed a nice contrast from the interior of the bunker they'd spent approximately two days trapped in, but Amara didn't have much time to ponder on that before two Russian guards burst through the opening gate to the shipment bay, both armed and prepared to kill them without hesitation. Erica, Amara, and Dustin abruptly halted in their tracks while Robin and Steve hadn't caught notice of their new adversaries.

"Shit! Come on! Come on!" Dustin clamored, the three of them bolting back and seizing their friends' wrists. Ignoring their complaints, they dragged them in the direction of the employee hall, yanking the door open and shutting it behind them. They proceeded to sprint down the hallway, rounding corners so sharply that Steve and Robin would brace themselves against the wall for stability. The five of them hadn't defied the odds and broken out of a Russian bunker just to perish now.

"We can't go back outside," Dustin heaved, he and Erica stringing Steve along. "They're expecting us to do that – they're bound to be patrolling the front entrance already. We'd never make it to the car."

"Well, what do you suggest we do instead?" Erica retorted, wondering what was so perilous about outrunning two Russian guards to a car when they'd braved an entire fortress of soldiers.

"We need backup, lots of it," Dustin stated. "Now that we're back I can reach the others and tell them where we are. For now, we need to blend in as much as possible."

"The mall's closed, though," Amara reminded Dustin, too pulling Robin forth by her wrist. As much as she wished to get them the hell out of Starcourt, she'd left the cattle prod behind, and even if she could bring herself to kill someone a second time the guards they were fleeing from were equipped with far more destructive weapons compared to the unarmed doctor whose limp figure she still couldn't shake from her mind. She owed it to Dustin to trust him this time after the two of them and Erica had jeopardized their lives to save Robin and Steve. "Who would we blend in with?"

"I might have an idea," Dustin mumbled, tugging on Steve's arm to get him to move quicker. "Mike mentioned something about this hallway leading to the movie theater... "

It seemed like centuries ago that one of Amara's biggest concerns was her manager firing her and her co-workers for allowing a bunch of kids to access the movies for free, but the circumstances they were in had a unique way of putting everything into perspective. Fretting that she'd be late for work and leave customers unattended, hoping that none of the many mallgoers would detect their effort to infiltrate the bunker and subsequently be in danger, even her misgivings about entering a relationship with someone she'd literally killed for... it was all so very trivial. But still important.

"Okay," Amara agreed, recognizing that they needed to get in touch with their friends no matter what. "If we can't reach them we'll just blend in with the crowd when we leave. Easy enough."

"Fine," Erica huffed, losing a sliver of the respect she had gained for Amara consenting to her idea to break Robin and Steve out of the fortress without aid. "But this better be quick, nerds. I've definitely missed Uncle Jack's party by now."

published to quotev: 1/17/23
published to wattpad: 11/16/24

AUTHOR'S NOTE

alternate chapter title: in which amara and erica form an unlikely alliance