𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 - [𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻]

𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 - down the rabbit hole

━━━━━━━

 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 grown far colder than when it had started. Each breath of air came out as nothing more than a curling coil of white mist, it drifted higher and higher until it faded beneath the dull gleam of the moonlight.

 One's cheeks were pink as the cold chewed at her flesh; though it might have been a remnant of the walloping she'd gotten from Billy, perhaps a tint left over from the blood that she and Max had scrubbed from her cheeks.

 Speaking of Maxine... You might have wondered whether or not One could drive; the answer was yes; Mick had taught her, just as she'd taught Kali and attempted to teach Axel — he was a terrible driver who liked to mount the curbs, or perhaps lightly tap a civilian or two with the bumper. But One liked to think that Mick had taught her well.

 So... Was it One driving Steve's ridiculously expensive car? No. No, it wasn't.

 Little Max Mayfield had practically begged, almost teetering to her own knees as she pleaded with One to let her drive. She was the party's Zoomer — whatever that meant — no matter how much Mike turned his nose up at the name.

 One, the very girl who had been subjected to experiments, the girl who had run away and started her own life... One, the girl with unthinkable powers... She couldn't find it within herself to say no to those glistening blue eyes and pouted lips. Maxine had gotten her way.

 So now the girl was up front, hands curled around the wheel with frightening strength. Her blazing hair trailed over her face, splaying into the air as the November chill whipped through the open window.

 In all honesty, One couldn't quite fault the girl. It was — admittedly — a bit of a bumpy ride, but for a thirteen-year-old who had only ever steered a single car within a parking lot, she was doing quite well. The turns were sharp, but that might have been due to Lucas' late timings, or his penchant for getting a little lost amidst his bouts of staring at Max.

 Lucas was snug in the passenger seat, an old map they'd managed to find was crumpled in his hands. His eyes would hastily dart away from Max, taking great care to swiftly move them to the map and trail along the painted road with a pointed finger.

 One had planted herself in the backseat with Mike and Dustin. Mike had taken the middle seat, whining as he did. But he was the smallest and the wiriest of the three. He'd eventually given up, slumping into the seat with arms folded across his chest; only perking up when One had mentioned Eleven.

 Steve who was still beaten within an inch of his life, was splayed over the three of them. His head and the long brown locks that sprouted from it were resting atop One's lap while his dirty shoes had been planted atop Dustins. The boy had scowled and groaned, but one further look at the swollen mess that was Steve Harrington was enough for him to fall silent and accept his fate as a footrest.