Starless Night (A Twilight/Stranger Things Fan Fiction)

Chapter 5: Theoretical Science

Alice and I try every computer in the station—well, mostly Alice; she won't let me get up for fear I'll hurt my bad leg—but none of them will so much as turn on, much less access the slow Forks internet.

Once we've resigned ourselves to this fact, Alice starts planning.

She turns the station upside down (more upside down than it already was, I should say) looking for map books and anything else she can find that will help us navigate the world—or at least, this version of the world. Most of the maps are of little help; we need to find books and articles, stuff that will help us figure out what this place is. But most of the maps don't show where libraries are.

After we've located every map we can, Alice puts me to work looking through the maps and then leaves. "I'm going to find a car," she explains, "as well as some human food... and search the local library, too."

I wave goodbye and then watch as she pushes parts of the barricade out of the way of the window, creeps through, pulls them back into place, and shuts the window behind her—all in less than two seconds.

The silence is eerie, and the dimness doesn't help. Every now and then, I'm sure I hear something breathing loudly over my shoulder, but when I turn, the room is empty.

I rifle through the ancient, yellowing books for what feels like hours. Every now and then, my mind drifts, and I put all my willpower into focusing it back. I'd once told Edward I was very good at suppressing unpleasant things, and now I need that ability more than ever.

Still, it's impossible to completely ignore the ache in my chest. The holes in me. [PLACEHOLDER], Edward had said. I shiver and try to think of something else.

When I reach the end of the second map book, I realize I need to pee. I almost laugh out loud. It seems completely prosaic, after all the strange supernatural things I've lived through in the past 24 hours.

Favoring my right leg—and wincing every time I take a step; it feels like someone is holding hot metal to my skin—I walk to the back of the station. I've been here with Charlie once or twice, but for the first time, it occurs to me how different this place actually looks from the Forks police station I know.

I wander to the office that I know to be Charlie's, but it looks completely different. I try not to think too hard about the brown stains on the wood floor—mud, or dried blood? There's an orange three-legged swivel chair behind the desk and, instead of the messy stacks of paper I'd seen on Charlie's desk, there is an ancient computer and a photo of a teenage girl in sunglasses and a tie-dye shirt with a big white peace sign on it.

It occurs to me for the first time that this world isn't an exact replica of the one I know. I wonder if, somehow, we'd accidentally travelled back in time in addition to landing in an alternate realm—but, no. The computer on the desk is covered in such thick dust, except where Alice had brushed off the screen and the keyboard, that it almost looks like snow.

This world had been somebody's home, once. Then something had changed.

Something had happened. Something had brought those strange, bloodthirsty creatures to this world. And they'd taken the realm apart.

I wonder idly if there aren't still humans who had survived in this world, somewhere. The hardest and the most paranoid, probably—the types who hoard food, just waiting for the apocalypse.

But I shake off the idea.

I turn back down the hallway and to the restroom. One of the lights flickers feebly on when I switch them, to my surprise—they haven't done that in any other room so far.

The bathroom is the same as I remember it, except covered in a layer of dust, like everything else. The toilet refuses to flush when I finish—great, I think, just perfect—and the faucet only rewards me with a few drops of water before it sputters out. I run my dry tongue over the roof of my mouth disappointedly; what I wouldn't do for some water.