Kissing Habits.

10. Battle of The Junkyard

Chapter Ten
Battle of The Junkyard

GROWLS ECHOED THROUGH THE MIST. Everybody was on high alert, new tension running through their shoulders. Immediately, all people inside the bus clambered to a window to stare outside into the night.

"You guys see anything?" Theodora Özdemir asked from behind her friend in a whimper, her hands clutching the back of Camila's hoodie.

"No," the other three replied in an accidental unison, their eyes squinting to see anything, anything at all through the darkness, and the mist that hung low on the grass. The junkyard had a few street lamps scattered around, but didn't do much to help the Babysitter's Club.

Momentarily, Dustin pulled away from where his face had been pressed up against the glass. "Lucas, what's going on?" He called up the ladder, only to be replied with a dismissive, "Hold on!"

"I've got eyes! Ten o'clock!" Lucas managed to shout down after a few seconds.

Immediately, all faces pressed to the glass moved to look where Lucas had directed, and, sure enough, a small slimey dog was prowling through the mist, the only telltale sign of it even being there, being the way the light overhead shined along its alien sheen.

"What's he doing?" Theodora whimpered once again, conflicted between looking to be part of whatever this was, or keeping her peace. "Oh, I wish I was at home right now. I'm never taking a babysitting job from your mom again, Henderson."

"You shouldn't have to," Dustin muttered back. "I'm not a baby anymore. Don't need to be sat on by a highschooler."

"He's not taking the bait," Camila stated in a whisper, the realisation sending a shiver down her spine, goosebumps along her arms and legs. "Why isn't he taking the fucking bait?"

"Maybe he's just not hungry and will leave us alone, and then we can all go home and pretend this never happened," Theodora spoke from further behind, now having decided she did, in fact, want to keep her peace.

A few beats passed, everyone wondering what they could be doing right now, if not this. Camila would probably be bugging Agapito so she could watch what she wanted to watch on the television, because he's been hogging it all day. Theodora could picture herself running a nice bubble bath, and perhaps stealing some of her mother's wine so sip on whilst bathing. Dustin would probably be working on some scientific contraption, or watching Star Wars, or whatever it is kids do these days. And Steve Harrington would probably be sitting in his room, that bouquet he'd bought for Nancy still on his bedside drawer, wondering where it all went wrong.

"Or maybe he's sick of cow," the man himself mumbled. It was a thought they'd all been scared to say, and damn Steve Harrington for having the guts.

At this, Camila immediately pulled away, the blood draining from her face. The others' eyes followed.

"We have to get ready," she pushed out, trying to force down the waver that cursed her, and she bent down to grab the spun rope she'd found earlier. "We might not make it out of this."

STEVE WAS THE FIRST. Although the bus door creaked as it opened, he tried to put it in the back of his mind that whatever it was hadn't heard it. His steps were soft, but deliberate, and his grip was ready as he wielded his trusty bat.