Indianapolis was louder than Hawkins in every possible way.
Cars didn't slow at intersections unless forced. People walked like they had somewhere to be, eyes forward, shoulders tight, minds already three steps ahead of their bodies. Neon signs buzzed even in daylight, and the air smelled like gasoline, hot pavement, and ambition.
Alex loved it immediately.
Noise was camouflage.
They checked into a modest motel near the interstate—cheap, forgettable, the kind of place no one remembered unless something went wrong. Alex insisted on two rooms, despite Claire's raised eyebrow.
"Professional boundaries," he said dryly. "Also, I snore."
"That's a lie," she replied. "You're too controlled to snore."
He grinned. "See? Already learning my weaknesses."
Once inside, Alex locked the door, checked the window, then did something Claire hadn't seen him do before.
He sat down.
Hard.
For the first time since leaving Hawkins, the tension he'd been carrying loosened just enough to hurt.
"You okay?" Claire asked, standing awkwardly near the desk.
"Yeah," he said after a moment. "Just… recalibrating."
She nodded, accepting it without pushing. That was becoming a pattern. She knew when to press and when to observe.
Alex pulled out his notebook again, flipping to a fresh page.
Indianapolis represented something Hawkins never could: scale. Infrastructure. Blind spots created not by ignorance, but by overload. If something strange happened here, it drowned in the noise.
That made it perfect.
SYSTEM STATUS
Operational stability: Restored
Urban density advantage detected
Recommendation: Establish anchor point
"Anchor point?" Alex muttered. "You're getting bossy."
Claire tilted her head. "Talking to yourself again?"
"Thinking out loud," he corrected. "It's cheaper than therapy."
She smiled faintly, then sobered. "That thing on the bus… it was looking at you."
"Yes," Alex said. "And that's new."
He stood, pacing slowly. "Up until now, the breaches were passive. Environmental. Like cracks forming under pressure. What happened on the bus was targeted."
Claire's pen moved quickly. "Meaning?"
"Meaning someone—or something—recognized interference," Alex said. "And traced it."
"To you."
He didn't deny it.
A knock sounded on the door.
They both froze.
Alex raised a hand, signaling silence. He moved quietly, checking the peephole.
A young woman stood outside, clipboard in hand, motel uniform wrinkled but clean. Early twenties. Bored expression.
"Housekeeping," she called. "Just checking occupancy."
Alex exhaled and opened the door halfway. "We're good. Just checked in."
She nodded, already turning away. "Cool. Coffee machine's busted, by the way."
"Thanks," Alex said.
She paused, glancing back at him. For just a fraction of a second, her eyes unfocused—like the child's had on the bus.
Alex's blood ran cold.
Then she blinked, shook her head, and walked off, humming softly.
The door closed.
Claire's voice was low. "Alex."
"Yeah," he said. "I saw it too."
SYSTEM ALERT
Observer proximity event
Possession likelihood: Minimal
Monitoring advised
"They can use people now," Claire whispered.
"Not use," Alex corrected. "Borrow. Influence. Like tapping a shoulder."
"That's worse."
"Yes," he agreed.
Alex didn't waste time.
By evening, he'd rented a small workspace downtown—nothing fancy, just a shared office with outdated computers and too many extension cords. He paid cash, used a name that wasn't fake enough to raise suspicion, and started working.
Claire watched him code with fascination.
"You're building software," she said. "In 1982."
"More like… optimizing existing ideas," Alex replied. "Accounting tools. Data organization. Things businesses don't know they need yet."
"And they'll buy it?"
"They'll depend on it," he said calmly.
She shook her head. "You're cheating time."
"No," Alex said. "I'm respecting it."
By midnight, he'd made three phone calls and secured two meetings for the next day.
Money would follow.
It always did.
The system hummed quietly—not excited, but approving.
SYSTEM UPDATE
Economic foothold established
Resource flow: Initiated
Travel viability increased
Claire closed her notebook. "You're building a life while the world's falling apart."
Alex looked at her. "That's how you survive the fall."
The dreams came back that night.
Not the violent ones. Not screams or monsters or endless corridors of flesh.
Just space.
Alex stood in a place without direction. No up. No down. Just vast, echoing emptiness. Somewhere far away, something breathed—not with lungs, but with intention.
It noticed him.
Not as prey.
As context.
Alex woke with a sharp inhale, sitting upright in bed, sweat cooling on his skin.
SYSTEM EMERGENCY NOTICE
Cognitive contact detected (Dream-state)
Data incomplete
Mental defenses holding
"Fantastic," he muttered. "Now it's in my head."
A knock came at his door minutes later.
Claire stood there, fully dressed. "Tell me you didn't sleep either."
He stepped aside. "Come in."
She sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her arms. "I dreamed of standing in a crowd where no one cast shadows."
Alex stiffened.
"That's… specific," he said carefully.
She met his eyes. "It knew I was watching."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and intimate.
SYSTEM NOTICE
Shared exposure detected
Bonded anomaly risk: Increased
"Well," Alex said eventually, forcing lightness into his tone, "on the bright side, you're officially in too deep to quit."
She laughed weakly. "That's comforting in a terrible way."
They sat there as dawn crept in through the curtains, city noise slowly rising.
"Alex," she said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"You're not alone in this anymore."
He looked at her—really looked—and nodded once. "I know."
Outside, Indianapolis woke fully, unaware of the invisible lines crossing its streets, unaware that something ancient had just discovered a new hunting ground.
And somewhere between worlds—
Something adjusted its attention.
SYSTEM UPDATE
Multi-location breach awareness confirmed
Threat intelligence evolving
Next phase imminent
Alex stood and grabbed his jacket.
"Come on," he said. "We've got work to do."
And this time—
They weren't running.