The journey into Hawkins was especially disastrous. The highway led directly into town but considering her role in the community, she was forced to take a different route. Whenever she would see a car, she would have to weave in and out of the woody biome. The lack of lighting had almost caused her to get lost several times, and the only thing drawing her back to the path was the passing of headlights. Her feet ached tremendously, the soles of her shoes beginning to deteriorate more with each step she took. In an attempt to shoo away the pain that was gradually rising up her legs, Emelia convinced herself that she was only a few miles away from her safe haven.

Much to her surprise, Emelia had yet to run into a patrol. It had been a while since she had heard so much as a whisper from any of the groups, so she figured they had all headed home for the night. Even after she believed she was in the clear, the girl refused to let her guard down. Nothing good ever resulted in celebrating before the win, and she knew she would not be the exception.

The town was stirring to life when Emelia finally made it into town, the lights of neighboring business flicking to life as the countdown to opening neared. The sun was just barely peaking through the clouds, leaving Emelia just enough darkness to lurk in. There were hardly any cars present on the streets and those that were present seemed too tired to take notice of her. She didn't have a clock on her but due to her surroundings, it wasn't hard to distinguish the time of day.

Her stomach growled in hunger, and Emelia leaned over to clutch it. The lack of nutrition was really getting to her, and she knew that if she didn't eat something soon, she would not have the energy to prevent her starvation. With each day she found herself in hiding, Emelia began to eat less and less. It was a coincidence really – something that needed to be fixed if she was going to survive this war.

Upon noticing the presence of a gas station, Emelia's eyes scanned the parking lot. The property wasn't in the best condition. Potholes lined every inch of the pavement, creating a large fissure in the center of the lot, and the siding along the building was buried beneath a thin layer of moss. There were only a few cars parked outside of the building – one of which left in a hurry once they realized they were almost late for work – so she knew this would more than likely be her best shot at snatching a semi-proper meal.

She had never been a big fan of the food gas stations had to offer but as she approached, nothing smelled better. The aroma of cheap hot dogs and buttered popcorn invaded her senses every time the door was opened, and she had to do everything in her power to stop herself from running down that hill. Despite being armed, Emelia was smart enough to know that she couldn't walk in there with guns blazing. All she had to defend herself was a puny switchblade and that wouldn't do her any good, especially in a situation where someone else was more prepared. If she was going to succeed, she had to be stealthy.

The neutral tones in Emelia's outfit aided in concealing the dirt that caked them, making the preparation upon entrance rather minimal. As long as she was careful, she would be able to make it in and out of the establishment with ease. Passing as a civilian was not going to be the hard part. Not being recognized was.

Emelia had been a crime junkie for several years, spending every moment of her free-time tuning into the local specials on the radio, so she knew better than to enter with her eyes glued to the ground. This action would only label her as suspicious and decrease the amount of time she had before she was identified.

A bell chimed above her head as she entered, almost stopping her dead in her tracks. The sudden sound had touched her with alarm, and she knew this was going to be a lot different than one of her podcasts. Emelia slid past an exhibit of sunglasses, lifting a pair to her face after false observation. The prop gifted her a false sense of safety, calming her nerves a bit as it hid her identity slightly from those around her.

The smell of the quick eats made her mouth water and as she approached, the large variety of snacks and meals preyed on her hunger. Emelia stopped in front of an endcap, pretending to decipher between the different brands. There wasn't really a question in her mind. The moment she saw the bright blue bag of nacho chips, she knew they were going home with her. Emelia had been a sucker for Doritos since she was very young but when the company released the creamy Ranch flavor, the original no longer stood a chance.

Emelia placed the items onto the counter and followed the clerks gaze up towards the television in the corner of the room.

City officials are looking for a young girl, now identified to be eighteen-year-old, Emelia Kortez, after a murder took place in eastern Hawkins on Thursday. She is considered to be armed and dangerous, so if you see or hear anything suspicious, please report it immediately to your local sheriff's department.

"Just this," Emelia uttered. The clerk pulled the bag towards him, flipping it over so he could scan the barcode. His vision remained on the screen for a few more moments before he lowered his gaze to her, standing there for a brief moment. The hesitation in his movements was enough to spark anxiety in Emelia once again.

"Your glasses," he uttered, and Emelia jumped in realization. Quickly apologizing, she placed the sunglasses on the counter and pooled all of her cash in her open palm. She didn't have much – only a few damp bills and spare change that she had accumulated from one of the vending machines at school. Sliding the wad of coins and bills to the man, Emelia lowered her gaze towards the floor. The moment the receipt began printing, Emelia grabbed the bag of chips and turned towards the door. Just before she could make it to the exit, the clerk cleared his throat, wiggling her sunglasses between two of his fingers to catch her attention.

"Thanks," Emelia spoke, placing the sunglasses on once again. She took one more step towards the door.

"You know, it's crazy," the man blurted, and Emelia froze, hand on the door. "I see hundreds of people come in here a day and these murders – they make me think."

"Yeah," Emelia breathed out, glancing back at the male once again for a brief second. A flash of study consumed his face, and his smile faltered as he observed her dirtied features. "Anyone can be a murderer these days."

With that, Emelia exited the building and stopped on the sidewalk, examining the steady rain that now saturated the town's limits. Her gaze fell to a sloppily parked bike on the pavement and a small smirk rose onto her face. She glanced over her shoulder, making sure that she was out of view from the others, and tied her hood tightly around her neck. Without a moment's pause, Emelia hopped on the bike and took off down the slope. The plastic bag swung loosely around the handlebars, whacking against her side as she pedaled. Emelia leaned her head back, allowing the rain to hit her exposed skin for a brief moment, and released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. Despite the irony, Emelia felt a sense of pride wash over her. She was going to enjoy this moment, whether the town thought she deserved it or not.

–

The school was the last place Emelia should be and yet, there she was crouched behind the dumpster of Hawkins' High. The smell was wretched, the decaying of previous lunch items toxifying the air around her, and she tried her best not to gag. Only feet away stood countless students, all chattering amongst their friend groups.

One thing that Emelia had grown thankful for was the gift of time. During her long trek into town, Emelia had constructed a plan that would aid her in getting back to her friends. She had no means of communication but due to the newfound information she had gathered from the loud teenagers in the forest, an idea had stemmed in her mind. It was going to be a long shot and because they had yet to be truly acquainted, Emelia knew it would more than likely be a hit or miss situation.

Due to obvious reasons, the Hellfire Club had been completely disbanded. All mentions of the group had been banned from school property, including props, merch, and even word play. The party members had been questioned by both faculty and police officers, making their existence at the establishment to be risky in itself. Although it was probably in their best interest to stay home, Emelia hoped that at least one of them would show up.

"Freaks!" a voice shouted, catching Emelia's attention immediately. Perched partially between the school door and the brick entryway, Jason Carver glared across the school yard at an incoming group. She didn't have to look to know the Hellfire Club was approaching. The majority of the school yard was empty now, making it a key time for them to arrive. Unfortunately for them, it just wasn't their day. Jason scoffed and opened the door for the rest of his goons, the grimace remaining on his face even when the door closed behind him.

"Ignore them," a voice spoke. Emelia tore her glare away from the door and risked a peak out of hiding. There were only two members present – Gareth and Jeff. Gareth had been in her psychology class and although they had barely spoken, she knew firsthand how important the club was to him. There wasn't a day that Emelia saw Gareth without his Hellfire t-shirt and although it wasn't the most hygienic move, the action made it clear how devoted he was to his friends. "They're just trying to get under our skin."

As the pair approached, Emelia's anxiety grew. The window she had was growing thinner with each step they took, and she knew that if she didn't act soon, she was going to kiss all chances at finding her friends goodbye. Opening her mouth, Emelia panicked and let out the first noise that rose to her lips. It was a mixture between a cough and a bird call.

The boys stopped in front of the dumpster and began to converse. At first, Emelia was convinced they hadn't heard her but before she could bring herself to make another noise, Gareth's eyes moved in her direction. His posture was tense, as if he was preparing for battle, and a confused expression crossed his face. Emelia cleared her throat once again and a slight flicker of hope flashed on his face.

"Eddie?" he muttered under his breath, glancing over his shoulder at the aid that stood atop the front steps. He shot her an awkward wave and cleared his throat to cover up his speech. "Please, tell me that's you, man."

"Not quite," Emelia whispered, revealing herself ever-so-slightly. She kept her hands visible at all times and observed as Gareth's expression immediately shifted to skepticism upon recognizing her. She could sense that he was contemplating ditching the entirety of the situation immediately, so she spoke again, "Please, just hear me out. I'm looking for Eddie."

"Yeah, so is the rest of the world," he scoffed, keeping his back turned to the school and maintaining a firm glance on her frame. Emelia looked between the stairs and Gareth, preparing to run if anything went wrong. "And they're looking for you, too, Kortez."

"Believe me, I'm aware," Emelia sighed, an unfathomable amount of stress exiting her body with her breath. She pivoted her feet below her in an attempt to release the cramp that was slowly inching its way up her shins. "Look, I know how close you were to Eddie, and I need your help contacting him."

"Why would I help you?" he snapped, quickly correcting the volume and tone of his voice once he realized how harsh it came out. The pair exchanged a glance as concern drove its way back to his face. A brief silence passed between the pair as Gareth's eyes faltered towards his friend behind him, concealing the wetness that maneuvered its way into them. "Just tell me something. Is Eddie okay? Is he alive?"

"Eddie and I got separated," Emelia began, keeping her response as vague as possible. Even after the words left her mouth, the boys didn't take their eyes off of her. "But he isn't alone. As far as I know, they're okay. I'm just trying to get back to them."

"I knew it," Jeff muttered under his breath as the pair broke out in smiles. Gareth let out a breath of relief and ran a hand through his hair.

"He didn't do it, you know," Gareth whispered, locking eye contact with Emelia once again. A reassuring smile twitched on Emelia's lips, and she nodded, expressing mutual feelings with the boy. "He didn't kill that girl."

"I know," Emelia replied. In that moment, she had never wanted to hug the boy more. "Look, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. Do you have any means to contact Eddie?"

Gareth and Jeff exchanged a look of focus as they pondered a potential solution. Jeff tilted his head, seeming to convey a thought to his friend, but Gareth returned it with a sole shake of his head.

"What is it?" Emelia questioned.

"It won't work," Gareth uttered, glancing back at his friend before finally agreeing to spill. "My dad got me this walkie-talkie a few years ago - "

"You have a radio?" Emelia blurted, quickly ducking behind the dumpster once she realized how loud she had been. Once she realized the aid hadn't taken notice of her, Emelia popped her head out again.

"It's in my room somewhere," Gareth said, chewing on a corner of his lip as he thought. "I don't even know if it still works and even if it did, I wouldn't know how to work it or if Eddie even has one."

"Leave that to me," Emelia spoke, trying to remember the details of her friends' walkies. She had only gotten a few glances at them but for the most part, they didn't seem very hard to use. "Do you mind?"

Gareth stared at her for a brief second before digging into his pocket and pulling out his keys. After a few moments of hesitation, he tossed the lanyard in her direction.

"4807 West Balsam," he urged, shifting uncomfortably between his feet. Jeff stood behind him with a prideful grin on his face, and he clapped him on the back lightly. Emelia nodded in Gareth's direction in gratitude, and he scoffed in disbelief. "I don't even know why I'm doing this."

"Yes, you do."

Wasting no more time, Emelia pushed herself to her feet and bolted into the treeline. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Emelia felt a sense of accomplishment over what she was doing. She had managed to build a plan from the ground up with just her head and heart in a matter of a few hours. She felt like celebrating, but she knew that her struggles were far from ceased. The streets of Hawkins were filled with patrols and even if she managed to make it to Gareth's house without being caught, she still had to find her way around the complexity of his radio.

Emelia kept her head down as she walked, glancing up every so often to examine the street signs. Balsam was only a few blocks away from the school and although she didn't live in the neighborhood, she was quite familiar with it. Her grandmother used to live a few streets up from Balsam and during the summers, Emelia would spend all of her free-time at her house. There was a playground that resided in the center of the neighborhood and her grandmother always let her go there to play so long as she memorized the streets. Even after she died and Emelia no longer came around, the knowledge never left her.

The squealing of breaks attracted her attention as a nearby car rolled to the stop sign. Emelia took notice of the bold lettering along side the vehicle and immediately quickened her pace. Feint music buzzed from the car and from what she could tell, the officer was paying more attention to the donut than he was to her. The numbers of Gareth's address kept repeating on her lips until she reached the driveway. Looking both left and right, Emelia shuffled up the driveway and thrust the key into the door's lock. As soon as the door cracked open, Emelia wasted no time in slipping through.

Standing amidst the living room, Emelia took in the condition of the home. There were countless stacks of empty pizza boxes and crushed beer cans scattered around the room and based on the smell, they had been there for quite a while. She did her best not to judge the appearance of the home considering the drastic condition her life was in. As unfit as the home was, it was still a roof over her head. Gareth had been caring enough to allow her into his home and the last thing she was going to do was take that for granted.

"Holy mother of God," Emelia uttered, her mouth falling agape as she walked into the kitchen. There was more food in this house than she had ever seen in one place. Through the glass of the cabinets, Emelia could see just about every snack she could ever want. It had only taken her a matter of seconds before she began digging through the pantry. For her sanity, she tried not to think about how she looked in the moment. Shoving a Pop-Tart into her mouth, Emelia tucked a few more snacks into the pockets of her pants and started down the hallway.

The house was rather small, seeming to only be a two-story building. The first floor seemed to be devoted to Gareth's mother's hobbies. The first few rooms contained stacks of totes, all of which stretching to the ceiling and filled to the brim with what looked to be newspaper clippings and yarn. It was quite intriguing to Emelia, and she knew for a fact that she would be able to spend hours in there without showing any signs of boredom. The last one was simply storage.

Once she made her way upstairs, Emelia found Gareth's bedroom with ease. The stickers that decorated the exterior of his door made it quite clear that it couldn't be anyone's room except his. She ran her fingers along the uprooted edges of the stickers before pushing the door open. Upon entrance, Emelia had thought someone broke in. Clothes were tossed carelessly around the room, lining the floor entirely, and empty cans of Jolt Cola were stacked at his night table to the point where she was certain they'd fall over if any more were added. There was a desk propped against the wall, seeming to be the only clean surface in the room, and resting on the corner of it sat his walkie talkie. It looked almost completely untouched, aside from a couple scratches and the thin layer of dust that decorated its top.

Closing the door behind her, Emelia took refuge on the boy's bed and pulled her knees to her chest. She placed the device in her lap and pondered where to start, scanning all of the buttons and dials along it. She had taken a few classes that taught her the basics regarding up and coming electronics but much to her demise, none of them taught her how to use one of these.

"Here goes nothing," Emelia sighed, beginning to flip through the different channels of the TRC-214 had to offer. From what she could tell, the radio had a rather long range. She had picked up on a few conversations but they all seemed to be that of employers within the area. When she landed on the quiet channels, she began to call for help.

"Dustin? Max? Are you there?" she uttered, growing impatient as the time ticked by. When nothing happened, the pit in her stomach grew larger. The chatter of duplicate channels were beginning to make her frustrated. Biting her lip, she tried to suppress the anxiety that was burning at her stomach. "Eddie?"

Emelia dropped the receiver into her lap and ran her fingertips through her hair. Just when she was about to give up, the static in the walkie talkie changed, causing Emelia to jump to her feet.

"Hello?" she bellowed, waiting in silence with wide eyes.

"Emelia?" the voice spoke, cutting out between clicks. Although it was a bit choppy, she knew that chipper voice could only belong to one person. "Emelia, is that you?"

"Dustin!" she shouted, relief enveloping her body with a sense of warmth. "Thank God! Where are you guys?"

"We're at Eddie's trailer," he replied, sharing the same amount of concern as she did. "Where are you?"

"I'm at Gareth's," she acknowledged, glancing around the room once again as if it was her first time observing it. "It's a long story, but I'll head right over."

"No!" Dustin shouted, stopping Emelia from getting up. "There is far too many people looking for you right now. Someone saw you at a gas station and they are roaming the streets like crazy."

Emelia swore under her breath and sat back on the edge of the bed, allowing her head to fall into her hands again.

"Don't worry," a different voice spoke into the device and in the distance, Emelia could just barely hear Dustin yell in rebellion. "Me and Robin will be right over."

The receiver clicked back off and left Emelia alone in the rooms with the static once again. Her mouth fell agape, and she leaned her head against her wall. The voice wasn't clear but if it was the person she thought it was, Emelia would be just fine.

-

Thank you for reading!

I just finished writing one of the very last chapters of this book, so be excited! There is so much coming, and I look forward to releasing them to you. I have noticed my audience is picking up slightly, which is very cool to see.

Stay tuned for less filler chapters and more action scenes. A lot is in the works.

Thank you for all the support.

Much love,
Rori x