SEASON TWO
BOOK TWO
It had been almost a year since the vanishing of Will Byers in the small town of Hawkins, Indiana. And overtime, it had returned to normal - as did the people that were caught up in the disappearances of children and teenag...
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The longest time had passed since Mary's phone call with Corina. And in the meantime, she, Joyce and her father had laid out all of the sheets of drawings Will had made — which were like pieces to a puzzle, they all seemed to add up. And so, Joyce Byers' house was decorated with paper that had messy scrawls over them, all different colours and shapes and sizes.
It felt like forever had passed before Jim was finally onto something. He realised Will had been talking about something growing and spreading. And at the same time, both him and his daughter realised it were like vines — and if Jim was correct, then he knew where it was and what the source was.
He had rushed outside, insisting that Mary should stay with Joyce and gave her no time to argue. And so, two hours later she found herself pacing the Byers' living room. She was rubbing at her temples, speaking to herself in her head and assuring herself that her father was fine — even though he had been gone a long time. And then there was the case of Eleven, what if she left the cabin and her father wasn't around to find her?
Mary shook her head, suddenly springing into action, "I have to go. I can't just sit around waiting any longer." She said as she moved for the door but Joyce rushed after her, catching onto her arm.
"Mary, wherever your dad could be, it could be dangerous —"
"Which is exactly why I have to go," She said with determination. She softened her gaze, "Please, Joyce." She pleaded.
Joyce held her eyes, searching them and all she could find was courage. She sighed and nodded, letting her go, "Alright fine, but you better be careful." She gave in and Mary offered her a grin.
"I'm always careful," She said before turning to leave. She was halfway out the door when she realised she had arrived in her father's truck. She popped her body back in the door, "I'm gonna need to borrow your car."
Joyce chucked her the keys and she offered a smile before jogging down to the woman's old station wagon. She got inside, putting the keys in the ignition and starting it up. She was sure she knew where her dad had went — where it all started up at the farm; where things were dying.
And so, she drove in that direction. Joyce's car was slower than she would have liked but it was faster than walking. And within a while, she entered the farmland and drove down the path to the fields where Jim had been investigating.
In the dark, though the headlights she noticed her father's police truck and pulled up beside it. She got out of Joyce's car, slamming the door shut behind her and looking around for her dad; but he was nowhere in sight.
She spun on the spot, "Dad!" She called into the Autumn air, condensation blowing out of her mouth. She got no reply.
She sighed heavily and walked around the car before she was suddenly losing her footing but managed to catch herself before she could fall. She blew out a relieved breath before looking down to see she had almost slipped into where someone had been digging a deep hole — through, it didn't meet the bottom.
