Demise of Mayfield

Chapter Seven: Some Form of Cold

Four days later.

The vines slowly crawled to the surface, seeking to reign the new territory that was not the Upside Down. Everywhere in Hawkins was covered in darkened clouds, occasional thunderstorms claiming the once sunny skies. Quite frankly, this drove more people to leave. It was intimidating, not having a single ray of light. With each day that passed, Hopper could only sigh and shake his head.

"We're bound to end up being the only ones who remain." Hopper sat on a rocking chair on the porch, giving El a glance. "What do you say, kid?"

Eleven stepped forward, her lips pressed into a thin line, and she squinted her eyes. "Maybe." She extended her hand out, faintly catching bits of the Upside Down's flakes. She eyed it curiously, humming quietly. "It damages the world but not us." She looked at Hopper.

"Well, that explains how the others didn't die when they were on the other side." Hopper said.

Eleven nodded, soon shaking the flake off. "But... the flakes gradually make things cold."

"... Just like when Will was first trapped," Hopper's eyes widened.

"Yes."

"... If the flakes fall more and more with each passing day," Hopper ran his hand against his mustache, "we're bound... to have an early winter-like season."

-

The rift near Max's home had grown significantly, causing it to take in the cars and homes of people. Max's mother barely salvaged her own, living on the edge with a rift that surged closer little by little with each day.

There were alternative paths, yes, but Max's mother began to consider taking shelter at the school. She didn't know how much longer it would take before the house was consumed.

"Nancy," said Max's mother, "I was wondering if you could bring some groceries..."

"Yeah!" Nancy spoke through the phone. "What things do you need? I'll bring them. Need anything else?"

"That's all, thank you. I'm packing since I'm thinking of moving Max and I to the shelter at the school."

"Oh, I see. Is Max packing right now?"

A sigh left the mother's lips, and her breath wavered. "I... don't know what's wrong with Max. She's been having a cold lately."

Nancy widened her eyes, her eyebrows raised, "How is she right now?"

"She's currently buried under blankets, but every time I check on her, she's kicked them off in a sweat."

"... I'll bring some medicine too."

"Okay, thank you."

The call ended.

Nancy hung up the phone and grabbed her purse, walking towards the door in a rush. She bit down on her bottom lip, wondering what was up with Max. Nancy ignored Jonathan's remarks, pushed Mike's comments out of her ear. She made her way to the car, starting the engine until Joyce pulled open the door to the driver's seat.

"Care to say where you're going?" Joyce asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh," Nancy flushed, "sorry." A small laugh fell from the tip of her tongue. "Max's mother—she asked me if I could get them some groceries and stuff. They're moving to the refuge later today."

"Oh," Joyce gasped. "Want someone to come?"

"Uhm, I think I can go on my own, Mrs. Byers." Nancy smiled. "Thank you though." She closed the door, rolling down the window before she reversed. "Do we need anything?"