𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 , steve harrington ⁽ ¹ ⁾

10; the lab

SAR'S PISTOL WAS SLOTTED IN HER HAND. The sun had long past dipped below the horizon. Darkness rose between the trees and the fence-line. The only light that could be seen was emerging from the depths of Hawkins' Lab. They'd decided, smartly, that it would be a good idea to stay out of the deep forest. Instead, they were sneaking along the outskirts of the lab. The two teenagers followed the high fence. Sar suspected it might be electrocuted, and refused to let Steve touch it. He was just amused at her paranoia.

Sar had brought a new flashlight: a heavy duty one which cut through the blackness of the night like a knife. It was held out in front of her in one hand, her pistol clutched in the other. She was leading them along the fence-line first, eyes out for any intrusions and mind open for the monster. Their boots sunk into the mud. The both of them were silent, eyes scanning for any clues. Sar wasn't exactly quite sure what they'd find. The lab was exceptionally good at keeping their secrets. She knew that for a fact.

The two spent a while walking around the perimeter of the lab. A few more strands of the slime was found, but it didn't help them in the case. The monster was in this general area, they knew that already — it gave them no information about whether it was connected. Still, they trudged on. Her foot was aching in her shoe again and she had begun to develop another limp.

Her flashlight glinted off something protruding from the stone base of the fence. She slowed to a halt. "What's that?" Sar crouched down, coming to eye height with the storm pipe. It was narrow, but she knew it too well. It led straight inside the walls.

All someone had to do was get through a door — or blow through the east-facing wall (an action she remembered in great detail) — get into the garden, and climb through here. It was familiar to her. She remembered squeezing Katie in first, the guards right on their tails as she crawled into their minds. James was shoving her forward every inch of the way. It was a hard fit for her, let alone James. Her elbows had scarred against the concrete insides, knees jagged as a constant reminder of that time. How her palms had been torn. James had even got a bullet to the shoulder — a much more impressive scar than measly gashes. It had been a narrow escape.

She shone her flashlight on the entrance. A scrap of blue and white patterned cloth was stuck to the jagged stone. She didn't touch it, she didn't have to. She recognised it too well from years spent in those damned hospital gowns. "What—"

She'd torn her flashlight away before Steve could question her further. With the furrowing of her eyebrows, she swung around, casting the light into the surrounding forest. Who had it been? she wondered. And how long has this been there? The light cut between the trees.

"What are you thinking?" he asked Sar.

"I'm thinking," she replied, "that there's more to this puzzle than we originally thought." She was biting the corner of her lip again. Her eyes were narrowed. She took another step deeper into the forest, torchlight scanning for any sign of sign of where the child might have gone. The forest floor was void of even footprints for indication. Something crackled in the distance.