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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE XXIII. suzie, do you copy? [ season 3, episode 1 ]
The front door to Dustin's house clicked open, and the group instantly got into position.
Rather aggressively, Lucia shushed Mike and Lucas ── who thought having a conversation about relationships was opportune right now ── and snapped her fingers to signal time. Eleven nodded compliantly. She squeezed her eyes closed, focusing on the little figurines in the next room over that they set out in according places underneath Dustin's bed just ten minutes before. She kept them stagnant for the meantime, but when the moment came, she would use her skills to warp the toy robots' metallic limbs into working parts.
At the sound of footsteps racing up the staircase, Max pressed the back of her head against the wall and bit her lip to refrain from laughing. She, Will and Lucia exchanged an excited glance.
Nervousness knotted tightly in Lucia's stomach. She tried not to think about how close Max's hand was to her own.
"He's here," Mike hissed suddenly.
Everyone tensed. Dustin was walking through the corridor toward his room, muttering something incoherent under his breath. He sounded annoyed, probably looked it to.
Lucia grabbed the door knob, and when she could no longer see Dustin's distinctive baseball cap as he moved into the shadows and disappeared into his room, she closed the guest bedroom door as quietly as she could. Mike and Lucas rushed to the other side of the room, where miscellaneous boxes containing unused ornaments were stacked. Max and Lucia quickly reciprocated, manoeuvring between the boxes before pushing their backs against the wall. Eleven remained in position, gripping Mike's fingers, eyes closed.
After a beat, Will's outstretched palm opened like a flower and then closed into a fist, "Okay, now."
El lowered her head, chin gravitating toward her throat. Concentrating hard, the usual trail of blood began to trickle from her left nostril. The others watched her in anticipation.
A distant murmur of electronic toys roaring to life sounded, and a heavy patter of panicked footsteps followed. Dustin's door creaked open. He was mumbling to himself again, this time less vexed and more confused ── which was plainly down to the fact his robots had somehow gained control of their own metallic bodies.
Soon enough, the congregation of robotic toys followed the path Eleven had assembled in her mind. They zoomed into the room the group were currently hiding in, and Dustin was too preoccupied watching his moving toys in awe to notice his friends were hiding, pressed against the wall directly behind him.
