BAD TIMES • STEVE HARRINGTON

14. the watchers

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chapter fourteen

WHEN THE NEXT MORNING CAME AROUND, Diana found herself taking a deep breath and grabbing Eleven's hands once more. They were sitting cross-legged across from each other, and their eyes were covered by blindfolds. Diana had never scried that way before, but, in her opinion, it felt very similar to looking into the blackness of a scrying bowl.

The two girls had been having trouble finding the flayed on their own, and, unsurprisingly, they were having trouble finding them together. A few pictures of the flayed were spread out between them and even that was proving to be of no help.

"There's too much to look through," she whispered to Eleven as their minds walked through nothingness. The sound of the static from the TV was merely a distant buzz and their friends' voices on the other side of the door were forgotten.

"We have to." In the physical plane, Eleven's left hand slivered out of hers. She could hear the younger girl grabbing a tissue and wiping the blood from beneath her nose. Diana herself rarely ever bled when scrying or using her gifts, but she and Eleven had been under so long that she too found herself reaching for a tissue and swiping it beneath her nose.

Their hands linked again.

"Maybe we're looking for too many at once," Diana suggested, looking to the younger girl, her yellow shirt contrasting greatly with the blackness of their minds—the void Eleven had called it.

"Maybe...maybe we should try just one?" The girl asked uncertainly. They both decided on Billy, someone they were more or less familiar with, and at the very least, he was one point to focus on.

Within minutes they could see a blip in the never-ending darkness, and as they approached it, it was clear that it was Billy sitting alone and unaware that he was being watched. They shared a look and in the physical plane they slid their blindfolds off.

The room was too bright. Diana rubbed the pain from her eyes and wiped the blood from beneath her nose once more. She saw Eleven doing the same and adding the tissue to a significantly large pile of used ones.

Diana glanced at the clock. Nearly three hours had passed. "Are you ok?" She asked to which the girl in question nodded her head. "Do you know where he is?"

She nodded and Diana nodded too, answering her own question. "His room. You think if we go back under he'll lead us to the source?"

"He'll be there." Diana didn't have to ask who exactly was the 'he' the girl was referring to. Before she could reply she heard faint yelling outside of the door. It sound like Mike and she and Eleven barely caught the end of what he said.

"...because I love her and I can't lose her again." His voice was angry. When she turned to see Eleven's reaction, the girl's expression was one of surprise but she schooled it into some sort of subdued confusion and exited the room, Di following close behind.

Everyone looked to them, as if they'd forgotten the two girls were even in the cabin.

"What going on?" Eleven asked, seemingly determined not to acknowledge or even let on that she'd heard what he said.

Mike looked like a deer in head lights as he shook his head and answered quickly. "Nothing. Nothing."

"Just a family discussion," Lucas replied, ever calm.

"Oh." Eleven paused for a second and swallowed. "We found him." Diana could practically see the question in their eyes.

Nancy was the first to ask it. "Found who?"