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"Guys?!" Ian calls frantically over the walkie, smacking it with his palm to see if maybe the batteries were the issue, "Do you copy?! Are you okay?"
Ian feels a shiver trail down his spine. He turns his head to face the gate, feeling some unexplainable force pull his attention away from his worry about Mike and Lucas. Something calls to him, like the Force or something. It's paranormal, it feels so wrong, but it feels so right at the same time.
The gate pulses with energy, a soft glow pulsing within the membrane cover that just so happened to cover back up again after the soldiers had burned it open. Speaking of the soldiers, they were all gone. The trucks were too. It was just dead silent. Just Ian with his thoughts in the cold November night.
It's unsettling, to say the least.
The gate calls to him, like he's in a trance. He's fully fixated on it. He feels like how Alex did when the Mind Flayer possessed her. Just follow orders, completely out of body, brain numb and blank. It's so fucking trippy.
Ian follows. He can't help but not.
He climbs up onto the windowsill, sliding down the gutter next to him like a firepole. This kid hated heights, but in this state, he couldn't feel fear. He couldn't feel anything. He had to get to the gate. He had to see what it wanted, why it was calling to him.
He trudges across the asphalt road, the gate pulling him closer and closer. He passes the front gates of the military block, stepping in without issue. He makes a beeline for the gate, membrane squelching as it slightly moves around the edges, thick vines covering the membrane for protection. The sound makes Ian want to throw up inside, but still, he moves forward.
A familiar voice screams for him.
"Ian! Ian! Help me!"
Mike.
"Ian!"
Lucas.
"Help! The Demogorgon!"
He listens to Mike's shrill screams across the military block, emanating from behind the gate. He hears Lucas' grunts and grumbles echo from the gate, as if he's fighting something.
"Ian!" Mike calls, tears evident in his eyes with the way he calls for him.
Ian stands dumbfounded. How, in the matter of seconds, did they manage to get taken, by a Demogorgon or the military, without him noticing? It doesn't even matter. They need his help.
Decked out in a thick camouflage jacket with a black waffle shirt underneath and thick blue jeans, paired with some heavy steel-toe boots, he breaks out into a sprint. He's completely unarmed, but he doesn't think about it. He doesn't have time to try and forage for a weapon. He needs to help his friends.
