chapter xix .
kerosene bottles
THE WAR ZONE HELPED MASON REMEMBER why he hated being in the rural part of Hawkins. The store was full of a bunch of hicks, going crazy over the super sale the War Zone was hosting. Everywhere he looked, there was a plethora of ammo, a holstered gun, a hand grenade—pretty much any type of weapon ever created was hanging on the shelves of the War Zone. Mason wondered how big the explosion would be if the place was set on fire.
"So much for avoiding angry hicks," Robin said.
"Okay, uh.." Nancy drew in a short breath. "Let's make this quick."
"Uh, yes please," Erica agreed, side-eyeing an old man with a beard that reached his knees.
They all branched off to different areas of the store to gather everything they needed for Dustin's plan. Mason and Erica wandered off towards the more hands-on weapon section—i.e. the grenades, baseball bats, and.. machetes. Mason found a pretty badass steel bat that had a nice swing to it, and dumped it into the cart Erica was pushing. She already had a few different types of knives inside. Mason glanced at them, then looked to Erica with a cocked eyebrow.
"What?" she said. "They're easy to use handheld and even better when they're attached to a spear. Way deadlier than that stupid bat you picked up."
"Hey," he said, hands on his hips, offended. "I know how to use a baseball bat. Played for years when I was younger. I could take someone out with it if I really wanted to."
Erica scoffed. "Yeah, sure."
They turned down the next isle to shop for some lighters, but Erica stopped dead in her tracks. Mason ran into her back. He started to ask her what the hell she was doing, but when he lifted his gaze to the end of the isle, he saw what had startled her: Andy and Chance down the way, checking out a sharp-looking dagger.
"Shit," Mason whispered. He turned away immediately and tugged on Erica's shoulder for her to do the same. They rolled off back to where they'd left the rest of their group.
"Aren't you friends with them?" Erica whispered, as they passed more boys in basketball letterman jackets.
"Used to be," Mason replied, ducking his head as Chance turned around. "Not too close anymore, seeing as they're buying knives, probably intended for gutting V. So.. no, I'm not a big fan."
Then a familiar drawl stopped him dead in his tracks: "Could I see this real pretty .357 please?"
Mason turned over his shoulder to see his former best friend stood at the check-out counter, inspecting a handgun closely. He lifted it up and pretended to shoot something—or somebody. Mason was suddenly overcome with an intense feeling of burning rage, and he barely even heard Erica urgently calling his name as he made his way over to Jason.
"Fancy seeing you here," he said bitterly, leaning onto the counter next to him. "Gonna go out hunting soon, or what?"
"Well, well," Jason said, looking Mason up and down. A smile made its way onto his lips. Mason was furious he couldn't tell what Jason was thinking. "The prodigal son returns. Long time, no see, huh, pal?"
Mason nodded to the weapon in his hand. "What's the gun for, J?"
"I think you know, Mason."
"I'd better not," he said, his voice low. He leaned in, not breaking eye contact with Jason the whole time as he said threateningly, "Go anywhere near Val or Eddie with this thing, and you're dead."
