Sesser, Illinois.
One day before Max's escape.
James watched as Murray led Jonathan and Nancy into the living room. Murray's expression gave away his irritation at having received visitors like this.
Neither of them noticed James, who stood watching from the hallway.
—So —Murray said—, what brings you all the way from Hawkins?
Jonathan and Nancy exchanged a tense look. It wasn't just nervousness; it felt rehearsed… and even so, they hesitated.
—We're here because of Barbara —Nancy finally said—. Because of what happened to her.
Murray's expression shifted for barely a second.
—Barbara Holland? —he asked—. She ran away. But don't worry, I'm close to finding out where she is.
—No —Nancy replied, shaking her head—. She didn't run away.
Murray frowned.
—Explain.
Nancy took a deep breath and pointed to the board covered in clippings, arrows, and dates.
—Your theory is headed in the right direction —she said—, but the timeline is wrong. And the girl… the girl isn't Russian.
—Oh, she isn't? —Murray replied, crossing his arms.
—No. She's from Hawkins Lab —Nancy continued—. Her name was Eleven.
The name immediately caught James's attention. Without realizing it, he stepped a little closer to the living room.
—It's a long story —Jonathan added after a moment—. We should sit down.
Once everyone took a seat, James decided to join them. His presence startled Jonathan and Nancy; they recognized him right away.
—Wait —Nancy said as he sat down—. I know you. I've seen you with my brother and his friends in Hawkins.
—What are you doing here, James? —Jonathan asked.
They knew each other; Will had helped James with a few school subjects.
—I'm visiting —James replied calmly—. Murray is my guardian.
Jonathan and Nancy exchanged another uncomfortable look, unsure how to proceed with James there.
—Don't worry —Murray interjected—. James has always helped me with my investigations.
Understanding that James wasn't leaving, Jonathan and Nancy had no choice but to explain the real reason for their visit.
—Well… it's hard to believe —Jonathan began.
—But we have proof that all of this happened —Nancy cut in.
James looked at them strangely, while Murray started to lose patience at how they were circling the point.
—How about we start at the beginning? —Murray suggested—. Then you can show me the proof.
And so the story began: Will Byers's disappearance, Barbara Holland's death, a monster capable of traveling between dimensions, and a girl with powers who found Will… and died saving her friends.
When Nancy finished, James and Murray remained silent.
James's expression made it clear he didn't believe a word. Murray, on the other hand, seemed to be fitting each piece into his own investigation.
—You said you had proof, right? —Murray asked after a few seconds.
Nancy pulled a tape recorder from her bag and played it. The voice of a middle-aged man filled the room, admitting responsibility for Barbara Holland's death.
When the recording ended, Murray stared into nothing, processing what he had just heard.
—Well? —Nancy asked—. Is it enough?
Murray didn't respond. When Nancy looked at James, he simply shrugged.
—I need to think —Murray said.
He stood and headed for the kitchen. Jonathan and Nancy followed.
—So? Does the tape incriminate them or not? —Nancy insisted.
Murray didn't dignify the question with an answer. He took out a bottle of vodka and started pouring.
—I need to think —he repeated.
—It's a simple question. Does the tape incriminate them or not? —Nancy demanded, desperation creeping into her voice.
—It's not a simple question, Nancy Wheeler —Murray snapped.
—You don't even believe us, do you? —Jonathan said.
—I do believe you —Murray replied, calmer now—. But you don't need me to believe you. You need them to believe you.
—Them? —Jonathan asked.
—Them: the mailman, the housewife, the office worker —Murray explained—. You need everyone else to believe you.
—That's why we recorded the tape —Nancy said.
—It's not enough —James said, speaking up for the first time.
—Exactly! —Murray exclaimed—. The tape gives us some credibility, but the moment someone with a bit of authority says it's fake, people will believe them.
—So… all of this was for nothing? —Jonathan asked, exhausted.
—I didn't say that —Murray replied.
—Then what? —Nancy pressed.
—I need to think —Murray said, taking his first sip of vodka—. That's strong.
He walked to the table and watered it down.
—Much better —he said after tasting it.
At the same time, Murray and Nancy had an epiphany.
—We water it down —they said at once.
—What? —Jonathan asked, sharing a confused look with James.
—The news is too strong —Murray explained—. Too concentrated. We need to turn it into something familiar.
—A lab leak —James suggested.
—Correct. We'll say Barbara was exposed to a lab leak —Murray confirmed—. It's horrible, but familiar.
—That way they'll pay for what they did —Jonathan said.
—And not just that —Murray added—. We'll cause a national scandal. I doubt any of them will ever find work again.
With the plan in motion, they moved on to the hardest part: execution. Murray and Nancy drafted letters to the country's most important newspapers. Jonathan edited and duplicated the tape, while James prepared the envelopes.
After several hours of work, they returned to the living room, victorious and exhausted. Jonathan, Nancy, and Murray celebrated with vodka; James settled for a soda.
—Another? —Murray asked, noticing Jonathan and Nancy's empty glasses.
—No, thanks. We have to head back to Hawkins —Jonathan replied.
—Why don't you stay here? —Murray offered—. We've got a guest room.
Jonathan and Nancy exchanged a look and whispered to each other.
—Could I sleep on the couch? —Jonathan asked at last, avoiding her eyes.
—Couple trouble? —Murray asked, amused.
He knew they weren't a couple; he had researched everyone close to Barbara. Still, he enjoyed the chaos.
—We're just friends —Jonathan said. His voice was low and uncertain, but everyone heard it.
—You've given me a lot of news tonight —Murray said—, and that's the first lie.
Nancy looked away, uncomfortable.
—We're not together —she insisted, a bit too quickly.
—Forgive me if I don't believe you —Murray replied dryly—. Let's see… daddy issues.
Jonathan tried to deny it, but Nancy spoke first.
—His dad is an idiot —she said without thinking, then fell silent.
—Thought so —Murray continued, now looking at Nancy—. You're harder. You're terrified of ending up like your parents, but you still can't let go of—
He let the sentence hang.
—Steve —Jonathan said after a moment, without looking at her.
—Steve! —Murray repeated—. We like Steve.
—Sure —Nancy replied, unconvinced.
—But we don't love Steve —Murray concluded, leaving the room in an awkward silence—. Anyway, I'm going to bed. James, you're past your bedtime.
—Damn old man —James muttered as he headed upstairs.
—There's a pull-out couch in my office —Murray added—. You can use that and the guest room… or do what you both actually want. Good night.
He didn't wait for an answer.
Upstairs, once out of their sight, Murray's expression turned serious.
—Well? —he asked as James entered the room—. What do you think?
—Hard story to believe, even with proof —James replied.
—You don't believe them?
—Do you?
—You can move things with your mind and teleport —Murray said—. How is this any different?
The words shook James. He chose not to comment.
—The girl's name is a little on the nose, don't you think? —he said instead.
—And you said I'd never find her —Murray replied with a faint smile.
—I'm worried about the part where she turns to dust and disappears.
—There are many explanations for that —Murray said—. But it's late. Go to sleep. I recommend music.
—Since when are you a matchmaker? —James asked as he left.
—James, you know me —Murray replied—. I love drama.
James rolled his eyes and left. He ignored the advice about music… until the noises from the guest room after midnight made him change his mind.
*I hate you, Murray,* he thought as he turned up his stereo to drown it out.
______________________________________
Perfecto, continúo **con el resto del capítulo**, manteniendo **exactamente el mismo formato de diálogos (—)**, ritmo narrativo y coherencia con lo que ya te entregué arriba. No cambio estructura ni tono.
---
**The next day**
Everyone was gathered in the dining room. Murray had been generous enough to make breakfast for everyone. He wore a smug smile as he watched Jonathan and Nancy shift uncomfortably in their seats.
James, for his part, had dark circles under his eyes that betrayed his exhaustion. He hadn't looked up from his plate since it was set in front of him.
—So, Jonathan —Murray said with suspicious calm—, how was it in bed?
The clearly malicious question made Jonathan nearly choke on his food.
—I mean… the pull-out couch isn't exactly comfortable —Murray added, savoring every second.
Jonathan managed to mumble something unintelligible, keeping his eyes down. Murray, meanwhile, observed everything with open amusement.
After breakfast and some final adjustments, Jonathan and Nancy began gathering their things to leave.
—Since I'm not charging you rent or food —Murray commented casually—, how about you help me take my nephew to Hawkins?
Jonathan and Nancy exchanged surprised looks. Even so, they agreed. Murray had helped them, and it wasn't out of the way.
—Let me grab my things and we'll go —James said.
Murray's request struck James as strange. He had always been reluctant to ask for favors. James tried to read something in his expression but immediately knew he wouldn't get answers.
He went upstairs and packed the box Murray had given him along with his Walkman into a backpack.
When he returned, Jonathan and Nancy were already waiting by the front door.
—James, let me know when you get home, understood? —Murray ordered.
James nodded silently as he stepped outside.
—This is for you —Murray added, handing Jonathan a bottle of vodka—. And if you ever feel like visiting again—
He paused briefly.
—Don't.
Without waiting for a response, Murray closed the door, leaving the three of them stunned.
After a moment of hesitation, they got into Jonathan's car and began the drive back to Hawkins.
____________________________________
Hawkins, Indiana.
Lucas rode with Max toward the old railroad tracks. The silence between them was heavy; neither wanted to mention what had happened at Max's house.
When they arrived, they got off their bikes and began pushing them along the abandoned tracks.
—So where are we going, stalker? —Max asked, breaking the silence.
—We're meeting Dustin and Steve at the old sawmill —Lucas replied.
—Steve? —Max raised an eyebrow—. Steve "perfect hair" Harrington?
—Yeah. That one.
—And how exactly is Dustin hanging out with Steve?
Lucas had no answer. He shrugged, and they kept walking until the sawmill appeared ahead.
Dustin and Steve were carrying metal sheets toward an old trailer.
—What are you doing? —Lucas asked.
Both jumped at the sound of his voice.
—Jesus, Sinclair! Trying to give us a heart attack? —Steve exclaimed, clutching his chest.
—Max? What are you doing here? —Dustin asked, confused.
—I came to check whether you're all a bunch of lunatics —she replied bluntly.
—The more hands, the better —Steve said, gesturing toward the piles of metal—. We're turning that trailer into a fort. Help me reinforce it.
Four long hours followed. Steve directed and handled the heaviest work; the others fetched, carried, and followed orders.
—Yeah… I think this should do it —Steve said, studying the reinforced trailer.
—And what exactly is this supposed to do? —Max asked skeptically.
—Keep us from getting eaten —Steve replied matter-of-factly.
Max watched as he walked over to a bucket, set it several yards away, and pulled out raw beef. He dropped it on the ground, soaked it in gasoline, and laid a trail leading back to the trailer.
Once everything was ready, they entered the improvised shelter to wait for Dart to take the bait.
—Why the hell did you bring Max? —Dustin whispered to Lucas.
—I told her everything —Lucas whispered back—. Since she didn't believe me, I brought her so she could see proof.
The space was small, and they weren't whispering very well. Max and Steve heard everything.
—Is this serious? —Max asked Steve, ignoring the growing argument between Dustin and Lucas.
—You don't believe them, do you? —Steve replied. When she shook her head, he sighed—. I don't blame you. If Jonathan and Nancy hadn't dragged me into this, I wouldn't either.
—That actually sounds like a good story —Max said, intrigued—. And since we have time… want to tell it?
Steve studied her for a moment before beginning to recount how it all started when he tried to apologize to Jonathan for being an asshole… and how it ended with him facing a monster from another dimension with a spiked bat.
The story matched Dustin's a little too well.
When Steve finished, Max climbed onto the roof of the trailer to think.
Several minutes passed before Lucas climbed up and sat beside her. He didn't do it right away; he stood there for a moment, as if unsure whether to interrupt. In the end, he sat down, leaving a small space between them.
They didn't speak.
Night slowly fell over the sawmill, and fog began to drift between the trees, blurring the distant lights. The silence wasn't uncomfortable… just heavy.
Lucas fidgeted with a small stone between his fingers before daring to speak.
—You don't have to say anything —he murmured—. I just… thought you shouldn't be alone.
Max didn't look at him, but she didn't move away either.
A few more seconds passed.
—Do you miss California? —he finally asked, carefully, as if the question itself might break.
Max let out a slow breath.
—A little —she admitted—. I miss my dad more. He stayed there.
Lucas nodded, not trying to fill the silence.
—That must be hard —he said simply.
—It is.
Lucas hesitated again, searching for something that wouldn't hurt as much.
—Did you go to the beach a lot?
Max let out a faint smile, barely noticeable, at the obvious effort.
—Not really —she replied—. I skated more. Swimming isn't my thing.
Lucas smiled too, relieved to see her react.
—I'm glad you still skate —he said—. It'd be weird to see you without it.
Max turned her head slightly toward him, surprised.
—Oh yeah?
—Yeah —he shrugged—. It kind of… suits you.
Max looked forward again, but this time the weight in her chest felt a little lighter.
They hadn't solved anything.
But for the first time since James disappeared, Max didn't feel completely alone.
—Hey… did you see that? —she whispered, pointing—. We've got movement near the yellow car.
The warning put everyone on edge. Dustin and Steve moved toward the windows. Max grabbed the binoculars.
—Are you sure it's not a dog? —she asked cautiously.
No one answered. The creature had stopped well short of the meat.
—Guys… it stopped —Lucas reported quietly.
—I don't get it. It likes meat —Dustin whispered.
—Maybe it's tired of beef —Steve said, grabbing the bat.
—What do you think you're doing? —Dustin asked, already dreading the answer.
—Expanding the menu —Steve replied, forcing a smile as fear tightened his jaw.
—He's insane —Max muttered as she climbed back down into the shelter.
For several endless seconds, they watched as Steve began making noise—smacking the bat against the ground, kicking a rusted can, whistling loudly. Each sound echoed through the silence… until something answered from the darkness.
The creature moved.
—Steve, abort, there's more! —Lucas shouted as more shapes emerged from the shadows—small, fast, twisted, just like Dart.
The air filled with sharp screeches.
—Steve, get back!
—Now!
The voices overlapped, but Steve was already trapped by his own decision. He took a step back, calculating distances, searching for an escape.
Too late.
The creatures lunged.
Steve ran for the trailer. The ground crunched beneath his feet as claws slashed inches from his body. One leapt straight for his legs; Steve spun and swung the spiked bat, hurling it into a wall—but it didn't stop.
Another attacked from the side.
—Son of a bitch! —Steve growled, striking again, backing up without stopping.
His heart pounded in his throat, his arms burning. He stumbled, dropped to one knee, and for a second thought he wouldn't get back up. The creatures screeched, too close.
Then he moved.
He pushed himself up, sprinted the last few meters nearly blind, and slammed into the trailer door. He shut it and locked the latch just as something crashed against the metal from outside.
The silence afterward was as violent as the attack.
Steve leaned his forehead against the door, gasping, alive—for now.
But no one had time to relax. The trailer began to shake as the creatures slammed against it, trying to break in.
Realizing they were forcing their way through, Steve ran back and forth, striking anything that poked through. Lucas readied his slingshot. Max and Dustin could only watch in terror as the fort began to come apart.
The sound of footsteps on the roof made Max look up.
Through the skylight, a creature stared at her. It looked like a skinless dog, its body tense and unnatural. For one second, Max tried to convince herself it wasn't real. That it was a joke. A hallucination. Anything.
Then the creature's head split open like a grotesque flower, revealing rows of impossible teeth, and it let out a roar that tore through her chest.
Something inside her broke.
This was no longer like a dog.
There was no logical explanation.
This was real.
The world collapsed into noise and terror. Max screamed—a raw, desperate sound—and her body refused to move. Her legs wouldn't respond. She couldn't breathe properly.
She thought she was going to die.
The scream caught Steve's attention.
—Max! —he shouted.
In an instant, he was beside her. He grabbed her arm and yanked her away, stepping in front of her without thinking. He swung the bat again and again, keeping the creature back.
Max fell to the floor, shaking, unable to look away.
Steve stood in front of her. Protecting her.
The noise, the screeches, the pounding—it all pointed to one thing: they weren't getting out of there.
And then, suddenly, the creatures stopped.
As if something unseen had called them away.
They retreated one by one, disappearing into the darkness the same way they had come.
Silence returned, heavy and unnatural.
Max was still struggling to breathe, her heart racing. Steve slowly lowered the bat, still on guard.
They were alive.
And right now, that was already too much to process.
The trailer door stayed shut a few seconds longer than necessary.
Inside, no one moved. Outside, nothing stirred.
—Steve…? —Dustin asked quietly, as if saying his name too loud might bring them back.
The latch shifted.
The door opened a few inches, and Steve peeked out—disheveled, sweaty, a small cut on his eyebrow, the bat still firm in his hands.
—Are we still alive? —he asked with an exhausted half-smile.
Everyone inhaled at the same time.
—Idiot! —Lucas exclaimed, rushing toward him—. You could've died!
—Yeah, well… —Steve shrugged—. I'll mark that as something to consider next time.
Dustin was the first to hug him without asking.
—That was awesome! —he said—. Totally reckless… but awesome.
—Thanks —Steve murmured, still catching his breath—. I think.
Max remained silent, sitting against the wall with her knees pulled to her chest. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, as if the creature were still there.
Steve noticed immediately.
He approached slowly, lowering the bat.
—Hey —he said gently—. You're safe.
Max looked up. Her eyes were glassy.
—That… that wasn't a dog —she said—. None of this is normal.
—I know —Steve replied, not softening it—. And it doesn't get easier.
That made it worse… and better at the same time.
Max nodded slowly, swallowing hard. She could no longer pretend it was just an exaggerated story.
She had seen it.
She had felt real fear.
—We need to move —Dustin said, breaking the moment—. If they left, something called them… and it could happen again.
No one argued.
Max stood slowly. She was still shaking, but she walked toward the group.
—Why did they leave? —she asked quietly.
—Maybe Steve scared them off —Dustin offered.
—No, man —Steve said—. It was something else.
—Something else called them —Lucas added, staring into the darkness where they had vanished.