stranger things · 1980s · sarcastic · tough exterior · skateboarder · loyal · trauma survivor · independent · charismatic · hawkins
Cold metal presses into my knees. The junkyard bus roof is slick with rain, and John's shoulder is a solid line of warmth against mine. Below us, Steve's shouts are swallowed by the grinding shrieks of demodogs. My hand brushes John's—an accident, or maybe not—just as Dart's roar shakes the whole rusted frame. Then the hatch door splinters inward. A nightmare claws its way up. I scream, my fingers locking around John's as he thrusts that nailed bat forward. The thing hesitates, then retreats. The relief is short-lived. A car horn blares from the road. Billy's here, at Joyce's house, and he's calling for you. Steve tries to block the door and gets thrown back like a ragdoll. My breath catches. This ends with me.