THE KIDS AREN'T ALRIGHT ｡ STRANGER THINGS

17 - RAISING HELL

Trouble usually did not follow Dottie Fields, it usually found somebody more interesting to watch and torment. Trouble enjoyed creating chaos and that was something Dottie was definitely not interested in. But funnily enough, trouble backtracked that day and decided that particular dark skinned girl with a snacking complex and no time for mystery was ready for a little chaos.

Dottie had followed the three boys for a long while, her old truck purring the entire time. They had stopped at Lucas Sinclair's house for a short time, then bypassed the main supermarket in town, Bradley's Big Buy, where the glass doors had been smashed. The act of spying on the three boys was growing boring when they went off road. Dottie had parked the truck near the entrance they had taken into the woods, near the old train tracks. She had almost pushed open her heavy door to follow them, but remembered a promise she had made about wandering alone in the woods to her best friend. I won't be a hero, don't worry. 

Rolling down her window a fraction, letting in a flow of cool air to circulate through the stuffy truck, she eased down in her chair and pulled out her half eaten bag of beef jerky. She figured her little brother and his friends would reappear soon enough. All she had to do was wait. Sadly, the waiting game dragged on a little longer than she had expected. She had eaten all her jerky, along with a melted 3 Musketeers bar. She had even pulled out some homework to finish off before Monday rolled around again. Boredom was not her friend and somehow she had drifted off to sleep, dreaming of nothing very memorable.

Her face was awkwardly pressed against the chilly glass of her window when voices stirred in her mind, waking her quickly. With a jolt, her head was snapping up and finding the kids returning from the woods. She was wiping a line of drool from her chin, shaking away the cloudiness from her mind when she started the engine. The party of boys had an extra person tagging along now and Dottie was already assuming this was the girl with weird powers of some sort. Without thinking again, she followed them while they peddle away on their bikes. The kids travelled back to the Wheeler house and Dottie was already rolling her eyes. "Do these kids do anything remotely interesting?" She was growing so bored, so irritated that she began talking to herself.

Dottie parked the car behind a white van, watching through the front window as the kids entered through the back door. With her stomach growling, she reached into the glove box and moved around some candy wrappers trying to find something to eat. "Follow the kids, what a great plan." She hadn't been sitting there for long, chomping down on another candy bar when something did happened. The back door was flinging open in sync when the white van in front of her purred to life. Dottie was already dropping the candy bar to her lap with a startled yelp. Quickly, she was starting her own truck and madly following the kids again. This time it was much harder keeping tabs on them, the group zipping into side streets. It took her almost a full minute to realise the white vans were following them too.

"Fiddlesticks." The word fell from her lips as she slammed on the brakes, not wanting to be recognised by the vans too. She had no clue what was going on right now, but had a funny feeling it wasn't good news. She veered into a different street, knowing exactly where she was going without being tailed. When she came to another bend in the road, her gaze snapped towards her left while catching the sight of one of the white vans hovering in mid air. Her mouth gaped open as the van smashed towards the ground. The kids peddled right by her, not even bothering to make sure nobody was hurt. With her heart thudding in her chest, questions racing in her mind she followed them again. When they raced towards a very familiar off road stretch of land, she knew where they were headed.

About fifteen minutes later, Dottie was pulling her truck to a firm stop at Hawkins junkyard. She had been here a handful of times with her father when they went searching for odd parts to replace in the truck. He was showing her how remake the engine, their little shared project. Shoving open her door, the dying sunlight touched her shoulders as she scanned the area. "Micky?" Her voice sounded strange as it echoed off the rusted metal and hunks of broken cars.