IT'S NIGHT WHEN THEY REACH REEFER RICK'S HOUSE.
The sky is pitch black and there's no sound but the humming of the car's engines and the light chirping of crickets. Surprisingly, all of the vehicles passengers stay silent, merely staring out the window at the long patch of forest they were passing, or lost in thought over everything.
Carla sits in the passenger seat—much to Dustin's dismay—staring out at the passing trees, the lake sitting out in the distance. One of her hands rests on the center console, clasped with Steve's. He rubbed a reassuring thumb over her knuckles, the other tapping against the wheel lightly.
Everything down in this area felt so empty, but maybe Carla was just seeing the worst of everything right now. The unease of Chrissy's death and the looming thought of the Upside Down weighs down on the Wheeler's shoulders. She tries to focus on the pressure of Steve's hand in hers to keep from going down that hole.
The Harrington boy twists the wheel, the car pulling into a driveway of the address Robin had given them at Family Video. A mailbox that sits out front reads 'Lipton' and Carla knows they're at the right place.
Steve parks the car and everyone gets out, curiously scanning over the perimeter of the house. The silence is defeating except the light thud of boots against dirt. Carla pulls her jacket a little closer, feeling the night chill—in every month but summer, Hawkins held a chill. It didn't help the nervous atmosphere that already surrounded the house.
"Carla...."
The Wheeler glances around at the sound of her name, "Hm?"
She looks around and there's no one around her—not even her friends. Her brows furrow as she scans around the perimeter, unable to spot Steve, Robin, Max, or Dustin. She hadn't even blinked......where we they?
"Hey, guys?" Carla starts walking towards the house, looking around for her friends. They wouldn't have just left her outside—Steve would have ushered her in. Someone would have gotten her attention if she zoned out for a minute, which she didn't. "Guys—"
"Carla..."
There it was again. The whisper of her name.
The Wheeler turns around, eyes widening as the creature from her nightmares stands near Steve's BMW. It's vine covered body squelches and he thuds closer, it's eyes locked on Carla's figure.
What the hell was happening?
"Carla."
Carla flinches, taking a sharp inhale of breath. She quickly whips her head to see Steve standing across from her, a flashlight in his grasp.
"....Steve." the Wheeler breathes, glancing back. The creature wasn't behind her; her friends were still here. Steve's BMW sits innocently in its parked position and the crickets continue to chirp. Everything was still as it was.
The only odd thing was the pounding in her head, suddenly returning with an even sharper pain. But, Carla hasn't had any Advil since the morning—she wasn't used to a non-helped headache like now, so yeah, it was probably normal to feel a more piercing pain.
"Here's a flashlight. For some reason, Dustin has like....fifty in his bag." She glances down at the flashlight in Steve's grasp and takes it, holding it tightly. Steve doesn't miss how skittish she looks—or the way she flinched when he got her attention. "Baby? You okay?"
YOU ARE READING
⁴𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐃, 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 ✔
Random𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡...... almost nineteen year old carla wheeler is trying to work her way through senior year without any interdimesional distractions but is forced right back into fighting after mysterious deaths start happening all over happening, p...
