SHADES of GREEN ↬ m. wheeler

XXII. RISE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
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❝RISE❞

　
　

THE light of the moon slashed across the Quarry water, a white-silver splatter among the black. It shimmered and caught Dustin's eyes. He froze.

　Lucas urged Dustin to help him gather the rocks, along with Max—but not really Max—but he could hardly hear him. Dustin was captured in a state of shock, so great that it dulled all of his senses. He'd been unable to be of any help, in his fight to clear his mind and comprehend what was happening.

　He had known Jade was different, that she could pull flame to her skin, but not that she could turn into someone else entirely, like something out of a comic book. He'd always had the sense that there was something odd about Esme, but not that she was an actual monster who just used him to hurt his friends. And he'd known Max had changed drastically, but not that she'd been kidnapped by another monster and that the Max he'd communicated with for the past few months had not been her at all.

　And now Eleven was here, in front of him, alive despite the fact that he'd watched her die, clinging to Mike, and it was only another blow to keep him down. Dustin's head was swinging with the confusion of it all, and he faintly hated himself for not being able to hold it together and fight like the others. Hated himself for only wishing that Patrick would come back like El had.

　Perhaps he should have been surprised or afraid to find an army of people rising from the Quarry waters, marching in a crisp line. Despite the darkness, there was a certain glow about them...

　He was not afraid. Not surprised. Dustin was met only with the urge to groan aloud.

　

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THE GLORIOUS LIGHT winked out, and Jade lay limp against the ground. The ashes of Esmeralda drifted past her, down to the water of the Quarry, and Jade had to take a moment to digest it all.

　A horrible aching crept to the center of her heart, but Jade shoved it away. Esme had been an enemy all along, and Jade had never quite liked her anyway. She supposed it was the clash of their blood, something innate that forced them apart. She supposed her constant discomfort had quite a lot to do with being around her natural enemies. So how could she mourn that?

　A cry broke Jade away from her thoughts. She'd almost considered it a mercy, until she realized from whose mouth the cry had poured. Jade recognized Nancy, her hair scraped back into a ponytail; one of the several remaining Wurqa snatched a bat studded with wicked nails from her hands, and threw it over the edge of the Quarry.

　Jade started to rise, and took in the rest of the scene. Jim Hopper was there, firing silenced bullets into every creature he fixed his eyes upon; he never missed. Steve, clad in his tough black police uniform, twirled a metal baton that had been broken at some point; he shoved the jagged edge into the throat of a demodog, and caught a spray of dark liquid. He cried out at the impact. Jonathan, hacking at everything in his sight with a machete, seemed to be fighting his way toward Nancy, but he was too far, and the creatures were closing in—

　Jade, having only risen to her knees, closed her eyes. Her body seemed to have taken on a mind of its own. Her hands folded together, and she pictured the brilliance of the sun and all the other stars. She envisioned one, a great ball of fire, and felt her hands forced apart by a wave of heat.