chapter vii .
fuck mason anderson

VAL WAS AWOKEN TO THE SOUND of a car overhead, which normally would not have scared her as bad as it did that particular morning—but when one is hiding with a fugitive of the law, one is pretty sensitive to the fact that people are nearby. Panic engulfed her as the car's engine droned to a stop at the top of the very hill she and Eddie were at the bottom of.

     She threw a lifejacket at him. He didn't move. She threw another—still nothing. Finally, she resorted to poking him with an oar, still ducking beneath the window so their visitors could not see her. Eddie jerked awake, already on-edge, but Val put a finger to her lips and used her other hand to point above her head, out the window. His eyes followed, and subsequently widened in fear. He mouthed a curse, then dove in front of Val so they were both hidden by the window.

Eddie's hand found Val's arm and he clutched it, as if he were preparing to protect her from the threat—but he was the one that let out a high-pitched scream when the door burst open to reveal some very non-threatening threats. Dustin, Robin, Steve, and Max poked their heads in, all smiling at the pair.

"Didn't realize you spent the night, Val," Dustin said as he made his way in, "or else we would've brought you something, too."

"Don't sweat it," Val muttered, stepping out from behind Eddie.

As it was, Eddie shared his cereal with Val as they sat across from each other in the boat. The rest of them surrounded the couple, looking pretty forlorn.

Val swallowed the minimal amount of cereal she had put in her mouth, then looked to Dustin. "Spill."

"So, uh, we got some good news and some bad news, and also some really bad news," he said, shifting on his stool. "How do you prefer it?"

"Bad news first, always," Eddie said immediately.

"Maybe do a bad news sandwich," Robin suggested. "Like, do the real bad stuff first, then the good stuff, then the medium-bad stuff."

"It's not called a bad news sandwich, it's a compliment sandwich," Steve pointed out. "That wouldn't make them feel any better."

     Dustin sighed heavily. "Alright, fine, I'll start with really bad, then we'll work from there." He drew in a short breath, then looked to Val. "Your name got out."

     She scoffed, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. "Pretty long time coming," she said casually. "How did they find out?"

     "One of Eddie's neighbors recognized you," he replied. "Said she knew you 'cause you used to be over there a lot. But it means that you're on their radar, too. Which leads me to the other bad news—we tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they're definitely looking for you. Both of you, now."

     "Also, they're, uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy," Steve added. "Like, a hundred percent kind of convinced."

     Eddie swallowed. "And the good news?"

     "Your name hasn't gone public yet," Robin said. "But if we found out about you, it's only a matter of time before others do too."

     "Actually, it's not," Val chimed in, her throat feeling like sandpaper as she spoke. "It's, uh—I went home last night, to see if I could get any sleep, but Mason was hosting a party with all his basketball friends and shit. Jason Carver was there. And, uh, he's after you, Eddie. All of them are.  And if my name's out there, too... He already didn't like either of us very much, but this would be motivation enough to kill us."

     Not even to mention what he would do to Mason, she added in her mind, but didn't say aloud. Not that she cared about him.

     "So to keep that from happening," Dustin said, "we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence."

     Eddie tilted his head. "That's all, Dustin? That's all?"

     Val twisted her lips. "Piece of goddamn cake, right?"

"Yeah, no, that's pretty much it." Dustin smiled.

"Listen, guys," Robin said, "I know everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we've actually been through this before. I mean, they have a few times, and I have once. Mine was more human-flesh-based, and theirs was more smoke-related, but bottom line is, collectively, I really feel like we got this."

"Yeah, see, we usually rely on this girl who has super powers," Steve said, "but, uh, those went bye-bye, so..."

"So we're technically in more of the–"

"In the brainstorming phase," Max supplied.

Steve pointed to her in agreement. "Brainstorming."

Dustin spluttered. "There's nothing to worry about."

Val raised her eyebrows in cynicism. "Nothing to worry about, he says, as police sirens begin in the distance."

Everybody perked up their ears. Sure enough, the sound of sirens echoed closer towards the boathouse. Nobody moved for a moment, unsure of what to do, but Robin looked at the two convicts in the room.

"Tarp," she said. "Tarp!"

Before she could even argue, Val was thrown beneath the blue tarp with Eddie. It was closer than she had ever been to him, and she recognized that, but also simply couldn't find it in her to fix it. And he didn't make any stupid jokes about their proximity, so she took that as a win.

     "Shit," she heard Steve whisper.

     Val met Eddie's eyes, his face tinted blue from the tarp overhead. He gave her a grim look as the sound of the sirens grew closer and closer—then passed them completely, and grew further and further away. Val waited a beat, then curiously sat up in the boat, she and Eddie both giving the others inquisitive looks.

Dustin turned around and pointed at the pair. "You two stay here." Then he gestured to the rest of them. "We are going to follow that ambulance."

               VAL HAD NEVER BEEN MORE ON-EDGE IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. Somewhere out there, her foster brother and his gang of basketball players were hunting Val and Eddie, Dustin was leading the rest of the group towards an active crime scene, and Val herself was stuck in an abandoned boathouse with Eddie.

     "This is great," she said, bouncing a ball against the wall repeatedly. "This is just... great."

     "You keep saying that, but I'm not sure you really mean it." Eddie's voice was mockingly thoughtful as he rested in the boat, his eyes shut. Val had thought he was asleep until he spoke up. "How long have they been gone now?"

"I don't know, but it's getting dark," she replied. Radioing them had been no use—if Dustin was going to give her a walkie talkie to contact them, Val figured it would have been helpful if Dustin actually answered when she called. "And I'm getting hungry."

"You're telling me," he said, rubbing his face. "Wonder if there's anything in Rick's house for us to eat."

Val shrugged carelessly. "Wouldn't hurt to check."

Neither of them made a move to do so. They shared a furtive glance. Val heaved a sigh.

"I guess I'm going, then."

Eddie stopped her as she reached the door, sitting up in his boat and holding out a hand as he called her name. "And, uh, if you happen to find any tunes that we could listen to—"

"I've got some cassettes in my car," she said flatly. "And Mason leaves his stereo in the backseat after practices. I'll grab it on my way back down."

"What cassettes?" he asked curiously.

Val shifted between her feet. "Fleetwood Mac," she replied, shrugging casually.

Eddie raised his eyebrows. "You listen to—"

"Yeah, I do," she cut him off. "Edge of Seventeen happens to be my favorite song, thanks, so it's either Stevie Nicks or nothing. You choose."

     "Fine. At least Fleetwood Mac is tolerable. Stay safe," he told her. Then she was out the door and back into the woods that shielded Reefer Rick's house so well, gave them such good protection from the cops. Albeit, quite scary in the nighttime.

     She was only a few steps from her car when the sound of a different vehicle pulling into the driveway froze her in her tracks. She mouthed a curse. So much for protection. There wasn't even time for her to dive behind her car before the doors of the assailant car burst open and out spilled the last people Val wanted to see. Five flashlights pointed directly to her face.

     "Well, look who it is!" Jason shouted, resting his arms on the driver's door and smiling sickly at Val. "Who'd've thought we'd run into you here? I surely didn't expect to."

     Mason appeared from the passenger's side, his eyes wide with surprise. "Val? What the hell are you doing here?"

     She straightened, already formulating lies in her mind to get her safely out of this situation. But if word had already spread to Jason that she had been there the night Chrissy died, Val was already done for. She wet her lips and hoped the latter wasn't accurate.

     "What are you doing here?" she shot back, falling back into her usual character. "I didn't think Coach Helms was very tolerant of his team doing drugs."

     "What?" Mason scrunched his face up and shook his head. "No, we're not here for—"

     "Well, why else?" Val cut him off breezily. She gestured behind her. "This is Reefer Rick's place, after all. It's why I'm here."

     "Didn't Rick get arrested?" the tall kid behind Mason asked. Val knew his name to be Patrick—but that was the extent of her knowledge. The rest of the team must've opted to stay home, because beyond Mason, Patrick, and Jason, there was only Andy and Chance.

     Val held back a wince at her slip-up. "And?" she said, shrugging casually. "He still has a stash around here somewhere. I was just trying to see if I could find it. And you never answered my question—why are you here, if not for drugs?"

Mason opened his mouth to reply, but Jason cut him off with his insufferable almost-southern drawl. Val wondered how the hell he had such an accent—he had been born and raised in Hawkins, Indiana, just like the rest of them. But it wasn't the time to be worrying about that.

"That's none of your business," Jason said, slamming his car door shut.

"If you're here for weed, good luck finding it," she said, heading off to her car. Her heart was racing. They both knew she was aware of why he was really there.

"Now, wait a minute," Jason called after her. "You know this house better than everyone, sweetheart. Mind giving us a tour?"

His words held an unspoken threat. She stopped in her tracks, but didn't turn her full body around to face them. Her head cocked to the side. "I'm not a real estate agent, dickwad. I'm sure you'll find your way around pretty easily."

Before she knew it, he had caught up to her, and his hand once again found a grip on her upper arm. "I'm not kidding, White. Come look around with us." His voice was low, threatening. "If you're only here for drugs, I'm sure it'll do you some good."

She set her jaw, furious. Her eyes trailed past Jason's shoulder and found Mason's in the darkness. He had taken a few steps forward when Jason grabbed Val's arm. Mason's grip on his flashlight was visibly tight—his knuckles were paling with restrained force.

Val seethed silently, in hopes of hiding her anxiety. If she left, Jason and his guys would tear the whole place apart trying to find Eddie. And eventually, they would—it wasn't like he had a grand hiding place. But if Val stayed and 'helped,' maybe she could throw them off her trail—and, subsequently, Eddie's.

     "Fine," she said. "Let's take a goddamn look, then."

     Jason and his men had no mercy when it came to Rick's house. They ransacked everything, room by room, looking for Eddie. Val kept to herself, occasionally picking up a magazine and dropping it back down half-heartedly. She felt like a hostage.

     She found herself in the main bedroom, watching as Mason flipped a mattress in an attempt to see if Eddie had somehow weaseled his way beneath it. "J, he's not here, seriously."

     "Just shut up and keep looking!" Jason shouted, clearly now losing his temper. Val wondered how he had even thought to check Reefer Rick's place—somebody must've tipped him off.

     Mason glared at Jason, but altogether continued tossing lamps off their posts and ripping closets apart, storming back down the hall and out of the bedroom. Jason's attention was drawn out the window.

     Alarms blared in Val's mind. She had to draw his focus away from the window, the only window in the entire house that pointed to the boathouse.

     She picked up the closest thing to her left—an empty beer bottle—and turned around so her back was facing Jason. She tossed the bottle to shatter against the wall just next to Jason's head. When she turned around, he was glaring at her.

     "What the hell was that?" he asked furiously.

     She just shrugged innocently. "Oops. Just trying to help you find him."

     Jason's jaw rolled in rage. He scowled at her for a moment longer before pushing past her to make his way back towards the main living room. He gathered his guys together, ripping a baseball bat from Patrick's hands.

     "Follow me," was all he said, before shoving the front door open and heading in the direction that made Val's stomach churn with fear. She rushed after them, her mind racing with distractions to stop them from reaching the boat house, but none came. She could only hope Eddie could gather enough wits to get the hell out of there.

Jason ripped the door to the boat house open. Val peered inside over his shoulder—it was empty. Literally empty; the boat was gone. She exhaled a silent sigh of relief. Eddie would be the death of her.

Her relief was short-fucking-lived, because only a moment later, Patrick's voice came from a few yards away: "Out here, Jason!"

Jason and Val practically tripped over each other trying to get there first. Sure enough, when they found Patrick, he was pointing to a boat paddling out into the lake. Eddie had only made it a few yards out, but when his plan was foiled, he cursed loudly and began paddling away for his life.

"Hey, freak!" Jason called. "Where do you think you're going?"

He began stripping down to his boxers, pressuring Patrick to do the same, all while keeping an eye on Eddie.

Not a moment of hesitation crossed Val's mind before she dove right into the water, not even bothering to remove any clothes or take her shoes off. She had always been a good swimmer, but with Jason and Patrick after her, she found her movements tight and sporadic. It was hard to keep herself afloat purely on adrenaline.

She reached Eddie easily. He held out a hand, tugging her up into the boat with him. They each took an oar and began paddling away from Jason.

"Not fast enough," Val said worriedly, glancing back over her shoulder to see Jason and Patrick on their tail. She ditched the paddle and began fumbling with the engine—which, of course, did not turn on. God knew how long it had been sitting in Rick's boat house. She cursed. "Come on, piece of shit!"

Eddie took to jabbing at Jason with the oars, cursing him out as he did so. In the excitement, nobody noticed that Patrick had fallen behind, staring off into the distance, his eyes wide.

Suddenly, he was dragged beneath the water. Jason stopped reaching for the boat. Eddie stopped jabbing the oar. Val let go of the engine and stumbled back in fear as Patrick shot up out of the water, levitating in the air.

"Oh, my god," she said, her eyes wide. "Just like—"

A splash. She turned; Eddie had fallen into the water out of panic. Something behind her began to snap. Without even looking, she knew it was Patrick's bones: The same thing that had happened to Chrissy was repeating itself with Patrick. There came a big squelch, and Val knew Patrick's eyes had popped, just like Chrissy's. Val held a hand over her mouth and clutched her stomach with the other. Jason screamed. Patrick's body hit the water, then never came back up again.

     Val turned over the side of the boat as what little food she had had for breakfast came back up.