GOODBYE, BOB

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THE MIND FLAYER

__________c h a p t e r  t h i r t y - t w o

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c h a p t e r t h i r t y - t w o

"We need to make Will sleep," Mike grabs the sedative while Bianca keeps an eye on the door.

"What?"

"He's a spy. If he knows where we are, so does the shadow monster," he explains, upsetting Will.

"He's lying!"

"He killed those soldiers! He'll kill us, too!"

"He's lying! He's lying! He's lying! He's lying! He's lying!" he begins to scream.

Bianca blocks out the yelling, keeping her eyes on the door. Gunshots begin to blare, only adding to the chaos.

"Okay, Will, Will, listen. Do you know who I am?"

"You're..." he hesitates, cementing Mike and Bianca's hypothesis. "You're mom!"

"Hold him down," she tells Bob, taking the sedative from Mike's hands.

"No, no, let me go! Let me go! Let me go!" he continues to scream, this time so loud, Bianca has to cover her ears.

Eventually, they get him asleep, just as Hopper and Dr. Owens approach the door. Bianca opens it quickly, letting them in and immediately closing it back.

"We gotta go. We gotta go," he picks Will up, leading everyone else down the hall.

They make a run for it, only to be surrounded by soldiers attempting (and failing) to defeat the creatures running around.

Feeling trapped, they lock themselves into the surveillance room in hopes they'd find another way out.

Bianca, usually an optimist, was this close to accepting that she was gonna die tonight. Maybe if she hadn't seen the monsters on every screen, devouring various workers and soldiers, then she'd be a little more hopeful.

To make matters worse, the power goes out.

Resting a hand on her rosary, Bianca shuts her eyes at the awful turn of events.

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Meanwhile, Samantha and the junkyard group go through the woods, following the creatures' trails.

"And you're positive that was Dart?" Lucas questions Dustin for the third time since they left.

"Yes. He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt."

"He was tiny two days ago," Max exclaims, rightfully more confused than the rest.

"Well, he's molted three times already."

"Malted?" Steve asks, and Samantha gives him a look of disbelief.

"Jesus Christ."

"Molted," Dustin corrects. "Shed his skin to make room for growth like hornworms."

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