The next morning, after hearing from El about the bad men, Mike sprang into action. He ran up the stairs, careful to avoid his mom—he couldn't risk her going down to the basement and finding Eleven.
He rushed out the front door, hopping on his bike and shouting a quick goodbye as he pedaled off. But instead of heading to school, he circled the block and hid behind a stand of trees down the street.
There, he waited.
Minutes passed. He checked his cheap digital watch—8:30 a.m. He had about twenty minutes before second period started. Panic started to creep in. What if his mom had gone downstairs after all? What if she'd found El?
Then, finally, her car came down the road. Mike ducked lower and watched as she passed by without noticing him. He let out a deep breath, muscles finally relaxing.
After waiting a few more minutes to make sure she wouldn't catch him in the rearview mirror, he hopped back on his bike and raced home. He cut around to the backyard, stashing his bike in a hidden spot behind the house before slipping in through the back door.
He crept down into the basement. El was standing in the middle of the room, curiously looking through toys and books. She didn't notice Mike coming down.
"Hey, El," Mike said softly.
El jumped and turned quickly. "Mike," she said, relieved.
"Sorry. I came back because... I have to figure out a new plan."
El nodded quietly.
"You want to look around upstairs?" Mike asked.
"Yes," she said softly.
Mike nodded and led her up the stairs. As they emerged into the main part of the house, El looked around, wide-eyed. The first time she'd been here, it was dark and late—they'd been sneaking in. This was her first real look.
Mike caught himself smiling as he watched her explore. He shook it off quickly.
"You want something to drink?" he asked.
El nodded.
Mike led her to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "We've got... OJ, skim milk, apple juice, water, and... cola."
"Water," El said.
Mike poured her a glass. She drank it quickly and set the empty glass on the counter, then wandered out into the living room. She stopped in front of a large box with metal rods sticking up.
"That's the TV," Mike said. "Pretty cool, right? It's 22 inches."
He kept talking about the TV, not noticing that El had already wandered off again. She was standing on a small ledge, peering at photos on a shelf.
Mike joined her.
"That's my sister Nancy. And that's baby Holly. Those are my parents."
"Pretty," El said, pointing to Nancy's picture.
"I guess," Mike replied, a little embarrassed.
El stepped down and walked over to a recliner, running her hands over the soft fabric.
"That's our La-Z-Boy. It's where my dad sleeps," Mike explained. "You can try it if you want."
El looked at him for permission. He nodded. She sat cautiously.
"It's fun. Trust me."
Mike pulled the lever and the chair suddenly reclined. El gasped, then giggled nervously. Mike laughed too.
"See? Fun, right?"
He reset the chair. "Now you try."
El reached for the lever, pulled it, and reclined back on her own. She smiled, and both of them laughed again.
---
Meanwhile, Jonathan was driving out of Hawkins, heading toward the city—and toward the man he least wanted to see.
His father.
It had been years since he'd seen Lonny. He wasn't doing this for himself. It was for Will. If the cops went to confront Lonny, he might run. But if Jonathan went alone, maybe he'd talk.
As he drove, his favorite song came on the radio—"Should I Stay or Should I Go."
The memory hit hard.
He remembered the night his parents were fighting, screaming through the walls. Jonathan had taken Will into his room and blasted this song to drown out the noise.
> "You like it?" he asked Will.
> "Yeah, it's cool," Will said.
> "You can keep the mix if you want."
> "Really?"
> "Yeah, really. All the best stuff's on there—Joy Division, Bowie, Television, The Smiths... It'll totally change your life."
> "Yeah, totally."
Then, in the background: Joyce screaming.
> "Where the hell are you, Lonny? I don't want to hear it! I don't want to hear it!"
Jonathan had gotten up and shut the door. He turned the music down and sat back on the bed with Will.
> "He's not coming, is he?" Will asked.
> "Do you even like baseball?"
> "No, but... I don't know. It's fun to go with him sometimes."
> "Come on. Has he ever done anything with you that you actually like? Like the arcade?"
> "I don't know."
> "No. He hasn't. He's trying to force you to be... normal. But you shouldn't like things just because someone tells you to. Especially not him."
Will looked down and nodded.
> "But you like The Clash? For real?"
> "For real. Definitely."
Jonathan turned the music up, and the two of them sat on the bed, bobbing their heads in time.
Now, in the car, Jonathan passed a sign:
Leaving Hawkins. Come Again Soon.
That's when the emotion broke through. He started sobbing behind the wheel. He'd held it together for his mom's sake, but inside he was crumbling. After a moment, he wiped his tears, changed the song, and steeled himself.
Too soon for that song.
---
Back in Hawkins, Joyce had just arrived at the store. She rushed inside, ignoring the cashier, and made her way to the back where the phones were. She bought a pack of cigarettes and used what was left of the money Jonathan had gotten for the posters.
She'd asked him earlier, "Why do you still have so much money left?"
Jonathan told her, "John gave me some and walked off before I could give it back."
Joyce had been surprised, but it made sense. She knew about their "special" connection.
Now, she hurried out of the store, got into her car, and raced home. She needed to be there in case Will called again.
---
At that same moment, a man in an electrician's uniform knocked on the Byers' front door. No answer. He peeked through the windows—nothing.
He pulled out a radio. "We're all clear."
> "Copy that," another voice replied.
A group of men exited the van nearby, dressed in white hazmat suits. Hawkins Lab personnel.
Each man carried a briefcase. Among them, unmistakable in his calm authority: Dr. Brenner.
They opened their cases and pulled out strange, high-tech sensors. The devices began to beep softly as they moved around the house. The man who'd knocked returned to the van—ready to act as lookout or getaway driver.
The team circled the house. The beeping grew louder.
They stopped in front of the shed.
Brenner kicked the door open. A man held it wide to let light in. Brenner moved to the back of the shed and scanned the walls.
The sensor in his hand began beeping faster as he turned to the right. He leaned in.
There, in the corner, was a small, oozing mass—black and glistening like tar.
Brenner's eyes widened. "Extraordinary," he whispered.
"This is the highest reading we've recorded since the lower levels of the lab—where the gate first appeared."
He crouched closer.
"It seems... the cracks in our dimensional plane are spreading. This is fascinating."