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THE ONE SILVER LINING of Billy's unforeseen appearance at the Byers house was that his Camaro provided the group a method of transportation to Merrill's farm, where Hopper had dug a hole in the midst of investigating crops that had decayed due to the tunnels. The only other options beforehand would have been hot-wiring Bob Newby's Toyota, which none of them knew how to do, or walking all the way there and back, which none of them wanted to do. So they loaded Billy's car with all the gasoline, pesticides, rope, and protective equipment they could find before Amara drove them off.
Dustin, Steve, Mike, and Max were all crammed into the backseat and every once in a while one of them would complain that another was invading their personal space. They'd patched Steve's face up to the best of their abilities; Max had a four-step, foolproof procedure for healing injuries that she'd developed from all her years of skateboarding, but Mike insisted that they didn't have enough time so they had resorted to emptying Amara's first aid kit of bandaids, cognizant that Steve would despise the patterned ones Dustin had brought along with him.
"Okay, that's Randolph," Lucas, who was navigating from the passenger seat, told Amara. "Make a right."
Amara did so, signaling right even though there was no traffic. She also didn't travel above the speed limit; while she had owned her Honda long enough to become comfortable driving it, a car like Billy's that reeked of cigarette smoke and gasoline was uncharted territory for her and the lack of ambient light was unnerving. But even with her anxiety, she was the only person in their group who was both conscious and had a license.
"Could you pick up the pace a bit?" Mike hollered from the back, oblivious to Amara's apprehension due to driving an unfamiliar car. "We're short on time here!"
"I'm sorry Mike, do you want me to crash the car?" Amara shot back above the roar of the engine. "We can't help El if we're dead." Even so, she pressed her foot harder on the accelerator until she was going five miles above the speed limit. She was still nervous, but she remained at that speed when it didn't make her more nervous.
It was odd to Amara how battling Demodogs was natural to her at this point, and yet she freaked out when driving a car that wasn't hers.
"Amara?" a voice that didn't belong to Mike, Dustin, or Max uttered from the back. Steve was awake, and the agony from Billy's blows was suddenly slamming into him at full force. His arm felt like dead weight as he brought it to the bridge of his nose with a groan, only for the person he had thought to be Amara to pull it back gently.
"No, don't touch it," Dustin came into Steve's field of view. "Hey, buddy... It's okay. You put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a good fight. You're okay."
Amara would've thought Dustin's effort to make sure Steve was okay to be endearing, but she was too busy trying not to total the car. Meanwhile, Steve was wondering where they were and why it felt like they were moving.
