Billy's gone.
Ruby Buckley's world ended with him.
But Hawkins isn't done with her yet.
When strange deaths begin again, Ruby is pulled into the heart of the storm. Between shadowy nightmares, the town's newest outcast, and someone she was never s...
( songs for the chapter ) please, please, please, let me get what I want // the smiths with or without you // u2
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The drive back into Hawkins passed in a strange, hushed blur.
They avoided the main roads, veering off onto dirt paths that barely deserved to be called roads at all, the Winnebago rocking gently beneath them as trees thickened on either side.
When Steve finally slowed and pulled into a clearing just inside the town lines, it felt less like arriving somewhere and more like stepping out of the world entirely.
The engine cut. Silence rushed in.
They were tucked away in the woods, hidden, but not trapped. Tall trees ringed the clearing, their leaves whispering softly above a stretch of overgrown grass that hadn't been tended in years. A few leaning electricity poles lingered at the edge of the land like forgotten sentinels. The air smelled green and damp and alive.
If things had been different, if the world hadn't been ending, if they weren't preparing for a fight they might not survive, it could've been peaceful.
It almost hurt, how peaceful it was.
"All right," Nancy said, clapping her hands once, sharp and decisive, already stepping into the role she'd claimed without asking permission. "We need to be efficient about this. We split up. Everyone handles one thing. No wasted time."
The group shifted, the quiet breaking apart into movement and purpose.
"Eddie and I can make the shields," Dustin offered quickly, already halfway out of his seat. Eddie gave his shoulder a squeeze as he stood, like this was just another project, another plan.
"Lucas and I'll do the spears," Erica cut in, daring him to argue. He didn't.
Nancy nodded, mentally slotting everyone into place. "Good. Max, can you help me with the shotgun? I need someone to hold it steady while I cut it down."
Max blinked, surprised. "Uh- yeah. Yeah, okay."
"And you three," Nancy continued, turning to Steve, Ruby, and Robin, "Molotovs."
"Whatever you say, fearless leader," Robin said, snapping a lazy salute.
"Let's move," Nancy said, already heading for the door, shotgun slung over her shoulder, hand saw grabbed on instinct as she stepped out into the clearing.
They spilled out after her in a steady stream, arms full, expressions set. Steve followed with a red cooler and as many empty liquor bottles as he could manage, tucked under his arms, balanced against his chest. He set them down just outside the RV without a word, already mentally somewhere else.
Robin stayed behind long enough to raid the kitchen, shoving more bottles into a paper bag along with a white T-shirt she'd found under the sink. Whoever owned this place drank like they were preparing for the apocalypse. She grabbed two smaller gasoline tanks and glanced over her shoulder.
