chapter twenty-two
reconciliation

        Alex recognizes the sea of dead grass before she emerges into the junkyard (how can she not?  It's what she remembers most vividly—the dead grass cradling Lucas's limp body).  She doesn't want to be back at the junkyard so soon.  She sees it all over again—Lucas's limp body, El's inhuman scream, Mike and Lucas on the ground, pulled punches, the yelling and screaming, fresh blood, the accusations.  It's here that only a few days ago, everything falls apart and Alex can't do anything but watch.  Their motley crew slips through their fingers.  But this might as well be the only place that will keep them alive.  The bad men are a speck in the distance, but they are growing ever bigger with each passing second.  Safety is an illusion.  They are still on their own.  They are back to square one.  And they're running out of time and places to hide.  Eventually, they'll be driven out of their hiding spots like cattle—they'll run out of food, search parties will be sent after them, and the bad men will not give up.

These thoughts don't stop Alex from letting her bike clatter to the ground and collapsing onto her knees as soon as she pulls to a stop in the junkyard.  Her calves burn and her knuckles are stark white from gripping the handlebars of her bike tightly.  She takes deep breaths (5...7...8...) in an attempt to calm her still racing heart.  That moment just before the van sails over their heads replays in her head, the moment where she prepared herself for the end of it all.  She's tired.  They're all tired, but especially El.  She sways on her feet as Mike climbs off the bike.  Her eyes are half-closed and blood trails from her nostril.  Alex fears that she would have crumbled to the ground like a marionette with cut strings right then and there if it hadn't been for Mike's steadying arm snaked around her waist.  Alex watches as he helps her gently to the ground.

El shouldn't have to kill herself in order to save them.

"Holy...holy shit," Dustin gasps, dropping his bike to the ground.  "Did...did you see what she did to that van?"

"No, Dustin, we missed it," Mike retorts, sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

"I mean, that was...that was—"

"Awesome," Lucas speaks up.  He's still breathing heavily, but he manages to repeat, "It was awesome."  He walks over to El, sinking to his knees so that he is eye-level with the girl.  El eyes him with suspicion at first but relaxes when she realizes that Lucas has no ill-intent.  Rather, his eyes are shining excitedly, and he wears a soft smile on his face.  "Everything I said about you being a traitor and stuff...I was wrong.  I'm sorry."

He reaches out a hand and places it on El's shoulder, filling the gap that lies between them.  The girl tenses at first but leans into the touch.  And for once, everything seems to be coming together at the seams.  Piece by piece, they are rebuilding what they once had, it's better now, though.  What they had before was frail, like a sheet of paper in rain.  Before there was enough trust.  There wasn't uncertainty and doubt, and ultimately that was their downfall.  The foundations on which they have rebuilt what they had before are stronger now—there's trust, now.  Reconciliation is the first step to their success. 

"Friends..." El starts, her voice is soft, barely above a whisper, and rough as sandpaper.  Alex can hear the exhaustion.  El fixes Lucas with a weak smile.  "Friends don't lie.  I'm sorry too." 

"Me, too," Mike pipes up. 

He offers a hand to Lucas once again.  Alex can see the guilt that has been eating at him ever since the day in the junkyard.  The day seems to have been thousands of years ago.  All he wants is to reignite what they had before.  He just wants his best friend back, and Alex can see that Lucas wants the same.  The latter rises from his seat on the ground without a word and faces Mike.  Lucas lets a weary grin spread across his face and grasps Mike's hand firmly.  And finally, all the pieces snap into place.  There are no sides anymore.  No longer is it Alex and Dustin and Mike and El versus Lucas.  It is all of them versus the world now. 

Together or not at all.

"Lucas, did you find the gate?" Alex asks after a few moments. 

She hates to break up the tender moment between them, but she knows that they're still in a race against time.  The others seem to remember where they stand against time and all eyes are now on Lucas. 

"Not exactly," Lucas answers. 

The five children kneel in the dirt.  Mud stains their knees and the sunlight beats down on them in harsh waves of heat, but they do not care.  Alex digs her fingers into the dirt.  It's warm.  She digs her fingers father.  She feels it caking underneath her fingernails and the grime stains the pads of her fingers, but she does not particularly care (her mother would, though.  She almost takes comfort in hearing her mother's voice in her head), the feeling is familiar and natural to her. 

During his expedition, Lucas manages to find the point-source location of the gate.  Hawkins Laboratory.  He doesn't venture inside, and Alex does not blame him.  The building lies on the outskirts of Hawkins, miles away from the epicenter of the sleepy town.  It's surrounded on all sides by a fence and strictly monitored at all times.  Hawkins Lab is not a place where you want to step foot in alone.

Three sticks in the form of a right triangle represent Hawkins Lab.  Here, miles away from the real thing, and kneeling over a smaller version, Alex doesn't think the lab looks so scary.  But she has to remind herself that everything from a distance seems smaller.  Even their problems.  They're still utterly alone and back at square one.  They know a little more now, but that does not change the fact that they are stranded in the junkyard with no other place to run.

Using another stick, Lucas points out different locations on his model.  He digs it into the dirt parallel to the longest stick and drags it along the length of it.  "This is Randolph Road, right here.  The fence starts here," he points at the top of the longest stick, "and goes all the way around."  He places down a discarded soda can, rotted and rusted in its age, and places it in the center of the triangle.  "And this is the lab right here.  The gate's gotta be there, somewhere.  It's gotta be."

"Well, who owns Hawkins Lab?" Dustin wonders.

"The sign says 'Department of Energy'."

"Department of Energy," Dustin repeats.  "What do you think that means."

Alex shrugs.

"It means government," Mike answers.  "Military."

"Then why does it say 'Energy'?"

"Just trust me, all right?" Mike interrupts.  "It's military.  My dad's told me before."

"Mike's right," Lucas confirms.  "There's soldiers out front."

Dustin tilts his head in confusion.  "Do they make, like, lightbulbs or something."

Alex nods.  "Mhm.  Very high-end lightbulbs.  Worth millions of dollars.  It's why the lab's monitored so closely."

Mike, who kneels beside Alex, reaches over and lightly punches her in the arm while rolling his eyes.  "No, weapons...to fight the Russians and commies and stuff."

"Weapons," Lucas repeats. 

As if the calamity of their situation finally sinks in, Dustin lets out a loud gasp, eyes wide in frenzy.  "Oh, Jesus, this is bad."

"Really bad," Lucas agrees.  "The place is like a fortress."

"Well, what do we do?" Dustin asks.

"I don't know," Mike admits.  There's a somberness in his voice as he looks around at his companions.  "But we can't go home.  We're fugitives now."

The world falls quiet again as they all let this sink in.  Home is but a distant memory.  The place they once believed would protect them from monsters is suddenly infested with them.  Before, her house was nothing but a faceless skeleton surrounded by the woods, but now, Alex aches more than ever, for the comfort of her own home.  But we always want what we can't have.  

The silence is only broken by a faint rumble in the distance. 

"G-guys," Dustin stammers, "do you hear that?"

One by one, five heads are turned, squinting against the harsh sunlight.  Alex's fingers dig deeper into the soil, she needs something to grip in her panic.  Just over the treeline, Alex can make out the shape of a helicopter headed straight toward them.  It's about the size of her thumbnail right now, but she reminds herself that it's only going to grow bigger with each second that they sit and stare. 

"Shit," Alex hisses, and that seems to snap everybody out of their paralysis.

The five pre-teens scramble up from where they sit, gathered around the model.  They all seem to have the same idea as they lunge for their bikes.  In seconds, the bikes are stashed away under the rusted, abandoned bus and the children are scrambling in through the door.  Alex is the last one in and she practically throws herself through the door just as the helicopter passes overhead.  She tumbles into the aisle with a soft thud and lays there for a few, heartstopping moments, staring up at the ceiling.  The only exposure they have to the brilliant blue sky now is the emergency escape exit.   

"Mental," Dustin breathes.

It's then, with a sickening feeling as she stares up at the rusted ceiling above her that she realizes that they have been headed into the bus like livestock.  Even miles away, the bad men are still the butchers.

. . .

Alex stretches across the worn bus seat and hangs upside down, staring up through the emergency escape exit at the blue sky.  Her head pounds from the blood that rushes from the rest of her body to her head, but she doesn't care.  She just keeps staring at the open sky above.  All too well, she realizes just how much she's taken for granted.  She doesn't know the next time she will be able to set foot on the sea of dead grass outside.

The minutes blend into hours and now Alex isn't sure how long they've been cooped up in the back of the bus.  The only indication that time has passed at all is the setting of the sun and the lengthening of the shadows outside.  They've spent this time in silence, for the most part, too scared to make a sound for fear of alerting the bad men who prowl like wolves. 

"Dustin," Alex finally asks in a low undertone, her voice raspy.  The boy looks up at her from where he sits.   "Do you still have your magic bag of snacks by any chance?"

There's rustling and then a second later, a bag of trail mix is hitting her square in the face.  It drops to the floor lamely and Lucas dives for the bag but Alex manages to roll off of the bench and grab it before Lucas can get his hands on it.

"Hey, no!" Dustin exclaims.  "Al's the only one entitled to snacks from my bag because she's the only one who respected them."

Lucas groans.  "Seriously, dude?  That was a week ago."

Alex opens the trail mix and throws a raisin at Lucas.  She hates raisins.  Instead of dodging, Lucas tries to catch the shriveled fruit in his mouth.  He misses and it drops to the floor lamely.  Alex lets out a laugh despite their situation.  They make a game of this, tossing pieces of the trail mix into the air and trying to catch them in their mouths.  After all, none of this changes the fact that fundamentally, they are still children.  Even if they were forced to grow up.  The childlike energy and wonder will still resurface from time to time. 

"Mike, hello?  Mike?"

"You guys hear that?" Dustin questions.

"Mike, it's me, Nancy."

Mike jumps up from where he sits against the bus seat with his knees drawn to his chest and lunges for his backpack on the opposite side of the bus.  He rifles through his backpack until his hand is secured around his Supercom and he withdraws it as the rest of his companions gather around him. 

"Mike are you there?  Answer."  Mike holds the Supercom up to his ear.  "Mike, we need you to answer."

"Is that your sister?" Lucas questions.

"This is an emergency, Mike," Nancy continues.  "Do you copy?  Mike, do you copy?"

Alex can hear a tremor in her voice.  This can only mean one thing.  She's scared.  But is she scared for herself, or is she scared for Mike?  They don't know what is on the other side of the radio.  Nancy could be surrounded by the bad men. 

"Okay," says Dustin, "this is weird."

Lucas reaches out to take the radio from Mike's hands, but Mike bats him away.  "Don't answer!"

"She said it was an emergency!" Lucas argues.

"What if it's a trick?" Mike retorts.

"It's your sister!"

"What if the bad people kidnapped her?" Mike asks.  "What if they're forcing her to say this?"

"Mike's right," Alex says, "we don't know what's happening on her side."

"I need you to answer," Nancy's voice pierces through the static once more.

"It's like Lando Calrissian," Dustin murmurs.  Alex furrows her brows in confusion while Mike and Lucas only roll their eyes.  "Don't answer."

"We need to know that you're there, Mike."

And then a new voice joins the static.  A voice that she recognizes as Jim Hopper.  "Listen, kid, this is the chief.  If you're there, pick up.  We know you're in trouble, and we know about the girl."

"Why she with the Chief?" Lucas questions.

"How the hell does he know about..." Dustin trails off, glancing over at El.  The others follow his gaze.  El only stares back, just as confused as the rest of them.

"We can protect you, we can help you, but you gotta pick up.  Are you there?  Do you copy?  Over."

Mike takes a deep breath and looks around at his companions.  His party.  Mike nods and Alex nods in return.  Nobody moves to stop him as he presses down the button on his Supercomm.  "Yeah, I copy.  It's Mike.  I'm here.  We're here."