Angelica "Freak Two" Munson

Chapter 87

"Four chimes," Max whispers, looking up from the floor, "Vecna's clock. It always chimes four times. Four exactly."

"I heard them too," Nancy nods.

Angie leans forward, her voice low, "He's been telling us his plan this whole time. Four kills. Four gates..."

"The end of the world."

It had finally caught up to them.

"If that's true," Dustin begins, "he's only one kill away."

Eddie throws his head into his hands.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he exclaims softly.

Steve points at Max, directing her.

"Try them again," he mutters, "Try them again."

She dashes for the phone, letting it ring amongst the silence.

After a moment, Max sighs, slamming the phone back on the hook.

"Anything?"

"No," she huffs, "It rang a few times, then went to busy signal."

"Maybe you punched it in wrong," Steve suggests, "Try again."

"I didn't punch it in wrong," she insists.

"Well, I don't know."

"She knows how to use a phone, Steve," Angie mumbles, looking up from the carpet.

"I'm just saying, she could've typed it in wrong," he says, throwing his hands up in surrender.

Max stomps back to the phone, "Fine, I'll try it again,"

She pauses, listening to it again.

"I told you," she scoffs, "Same shit."

"How is that possible?" Lucas asks, shifting in his seat.

"Joyce has this telemarketer job," Dustin discloses, "She's always on the phone. Mike won't stop whining about it."

"Okay, yeah, but this phone's been busy for, what, three days now?" Max questions rhetorically,  "That's not Joyce. No way. Something's wrong."

"She's right," Nancy agrees, moving towards the window, "It can't just be coincidence-- It can't be. Whatever's happening in Lenora is connected to all of this. I'm sure of it... But, Vecna can't hurt them. Not if he's dead. We have to go back in there."

"Back to the Upside Down?" Angie scoffs, her eyes flickering to Steve's wounds, "No."

The thought of losing him stung enough the first time.

She couldn't handle that again.

She wouldn't.

Not unless completely necessary.

He stands, his voice becoming agitated, "Let's think this through."

"What is there to think through?"

Angie rises, following Steve's lead.

"We barely made it out of there last time," she emphasizes.

"Yeah, because we weren't prepared," she exclaims, "But this time, we will be. We'll get weapons and protection. We'll go through the gate, we'll find his lair, and we'll kill him."

"Or he'll kill us," Steve argues, "The only reason you survived is because he wanted you to. He's not scared of us."

Robin laughs, unamused, "And for good reason. We were wrong about Vecna-- Henry-- One-- Sorry, what are we calling him now?"

"One,"

"Vecna,"

"Henry,"

They all answer in reply, coming up with scattered opinions.

"Right," she hesitates, dissatisfied with their answers, "We've learned something new about Vecna/Henry/One. He's a number like Eleven. Only he's a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin. But my... my point is, he's super powerful. He could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It's not a fair fight."

"Then why fight fair?" Dustin shrugs, "You're right. He's like Eleven. But that gives us an upper hand."

Angie grins, "We know Eleven's strengths. And weaknesses."

"Weaknesses?" Erika questions, her tone disapproving.

"When El remote-travels, she goes into this sort of trance-like state," he explains, "I bet the same is true of Vecna."

"That would explain what he was doing in that attic," Lucas gasps.

"Exactly. When he attacks his next victim, I'll bet you he's back in that attic, physical body defenseless."

"Defenseless?" Steve scoffs, "What about the army of bats?"

"True," Dustin agrees, "We'll have to find a way past them-- distract them somehow."

"And, uh, how do we do that, exactly?" Eddie asks, finally speaking.

"No idea," he mumbles quickly before continuing, "But once they're gone, he doesn't stand a chance. It'll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin."

Robin cocks her head, thinking, "That all sounds good in theory, but there is no pattern to Vecna's killings. I mean, at least not one that I can decipher. We don't know when he's going to attack next-- We don't even know who he's going to attack."

"Yeah, we do," Max corrects, "I can still feel him. I'm still marked. Cursed. I ditch Kate Bush, I draw his focus back to me."

Angie shakes her head, "Max, you can't. He'll kill you."

And, she couldn't let that happen.

"I survived before," she insists, "I can survive again... I just need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic. Then, you can chop his head off. Stab him in the heart. Blow him up with some explosive Dustin cooks up-- I honestly don't care how you put this asshole in his grave. Just... whatever it is... whatever you do... try not to miss."

They pause, taking it all in.

The silence is suffocating, louder than any of their words.

After a moment, Angie speaks up.

"So, does anybody have any ideas?" she asks, cutting through the silence.

Eddie shrugs, leaping from the couch, "I might."

They follow him into the kitchen as he grabs a newspaper.

"War Zone," he points, "I've been there once. It's huge. They've got everything you need for, uh... well, killing things, basically."

"You think fake Rambo has enough guns there?" Robin questions, looking down at the ad, "Is that a grenade-- I mean, how is any of this legal?"

"Well, lucky for us, it is, so..." Eddie grins, resisting a scoff, "This... This place is just far enough outside of Hawkins. As long as we steer clear of main roads, we oughta be able to avoid cops and, uh, angry hicks."

"If we're trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn't go to some store called War Zone," Erika suggests, her tone disapproving.

"Normally, I'd agree, but we need the weapons," Nancy approves, "So, I think it's worth the risk."

"Me too,"

"Yeah, but is it worth the time?" Dustin proposes, looking up from the ad, "It'll take all day to bike there and back."

Angie crosses her arms with a smile, "Who said anything about bikes?"

"You got some car we don't know about?" Steve asks, his hand resting on the small of her back.

Eddie stands, matching his sister's grin, "It's not exactly a car, Steve. And, it's not exactly ours, but, uh... it'll do."