Kissing Habits.

11. Hawkins Lab

Chapter Eleven
Hawkins Lab

"YOU'RE POSITIVE THAT WAS DART?" LUCAS ENQUIRED, ONLY TO EARN A SIGH FROM DUSTIN.

"Yes, I'm positive," Dustin responded, seemingly trying his hardest not to scoff at his friend. "He had the exact same yellow pattern on his ass."

"But, how can you be sure?" Max asked this time. "He was literally tiny two days ago."

"Yeah, and he's molted three times already. He's not like any normal pollywog, clearly."

Now safe from the attacks of the whatchamacallits, the Babysitter's Club began slowly but surely making their ways back into town, following the same railroad track the first four of them had used just earlier that afternoon.

It was dark, probably not safe, but it wouldn't be any safer waiting around for them to come back. Probably, nowhere was safe. At least right now, until they got to the bottom of this.

"If he's molted this much already, and is only that big, he's got to molt again soon, right?" Camila piped up from the middle of the group, shining her flashlight ahead of her.

In front of her, Dustin nodded, and hummed in affirmation. "And when he does, he'll be fully grown, or at least close to it. And more dangerous than before. So will his friends."

"Great," Theodora groaned from beside Camila, running a stressed hand through her ratty hair. She hadn't shampooed in at least two days, now, and it wasn't feeling great.

And then the tweens started arguing about something or other "rule of law," but what caught the ears of the grown-ups was the faint screeching far within the trees. At this time of night, and in these big of woods, it was impossible to see anything, or assume how far or close they were.

Eyebrows furrowed, Camila divided from the group, only a few paces away, her torch shining into the pitch black tree line.

"We're fucked..." She muttered, glancing back at the Babysitter's Club, half of which were young kids bickering too much for their own good. "You guys hear that, too, right?"

With a nudge, Steve pulled the kids out of their spat, and into the present, where he equipped his bat, and lead everyone further into the trees.

"Hey, why are we heading towards the sound?" Max questioned, tone desperate, her fingers anxiously finding the fabric of her jeans. She lingered behind, watching for a moment, hoping they'd all change their minds and come back. But, with this group, you can never expect anything of the sort.

The trees led out onto a clearing, of which overlooked even more trees, and the quieter side of Hawkins. Overhead, the moon shone high and bright, almost illuminating the scene for them.

Once he'd come to a stop, Lucas pressed his binoculars to his eyes. "The lab," he announced, an edge to his tone. "They're going back home..."

And they needed to be stopped.

"WHO'S THERE!?" THE VOICE SHOUTED OUT INTO THE WOODS. It had taken longer than anyone was hoping it would, but the Babysitter's Club had reached Hawkins Laboratory, but it appeared someone had beat them to it.