He ran the whole way to his house, his heart pounding and his lungs burning. He couldn't hear Freddie, and he didn't stop to think about it. The house looked awful - as unkempt as if no one had darkened the door in months - but he had no time to take it in. Before he could go inside, he saw Eric hurrying towards him from another direction, his mother close behind him.
“Eric! Mom! There's something happening, I don't know -”
“We heard, Jake,” Eric panted. “We were on our way here and we saw a bunch of military trucks passing. Seems like they're all going towards town hall. Mrs. Davis said she saw a bunch going in the opposite direction.”
Jake breathed heavily. “Okay, you guys go inside. Be careful. I'll come back when -”
“We're not hiding in the house, Jake,” said Gail.
He turned to her, giving her his most pleading look. “Mom, I want you to be safe.”
“And I want to make sure our friends are okay,” she said firmly.
He looked from her to Eric, and knew it would be pointless to argue with her. “Okay,” he said. “But be careful.”
The three of them set off, towards the centre of town where they could hear sirens. Gail was going as quickly as she could, but Jake was growing more and more desperate to take off running. They turned around a corner, and were met with the sight of a large presence of humvees on the street. There were armed men outside some of the houses, and frightened looking townspeople on the lawns. More trucks sped quickly by.
Jake noticed Margaret Taylor standing on one lawn, holding a terrified looking Sally to her. He turned to his mother, and saw that she had noticed. “You go to talk to the Taylors. I'm going to follow those trucks,” he said.
“Jake!” said his mother.
He turned. She wore a pained, but resolute expression. “Come back when you're done.”
He leaned in to hug her, and quickly hugged Eric too. “Look after Mom,” he whispered.
He was running again, following the side street, turning onto Main. Even more trucks gathered outside here. There were people being directed to move. As he passed Gracie's market, he saw a steady stream of thin, ragged looking people being lead outside by more soldiers. He kept going.
As he neared Bailey's, he could see Mary walking across the pavement, dragging a dazed looking Mimi behind her. The rest of her regulars had already been evicted, and were standing or sitting on the curb.
“Mary, what's happening?” he asked.
Mary looked visibly shaken. “I don't know. They said we're being evacuated. They said there wasn't room for us to bring belongings.”
“They're taking people away? Did they say where?”
“No. Some camp, I guess. Why would they do that? We're not doing well, but I'm sure we're better off here.” She glanced over her shoulder.
“I don't know. Look, are you guys okay?” he asked, glancing at Mimi, who was leaning precariously.
“We'll manage,” said Mary, attempting a brave smile.
“Just do what they say, okay? Stay safe.” He gave her as much of a reassuring look as he could muster.
She nodded, and turned back to the street, supporting Mimi as she walked.
Jake rushed next door as quickly as he could. Town hall was deserted. He raced towards the mayor's office. 'Evacuated? They're looking for the bomb, aren't they? It, and Hawkins.'
There was no answer. He burst through the door to find Gray seated, staring at the window.
“Gray, what are they doing?” he demanded.
“Evacuating the town,” said Gray in a dull voice.
“For what reason?” asked Jake, his voice rising.
“Does it matter?” was the quiet reply.
“Why are you sitting in here? Why aren't you out there, helping them? Calming down the crowd, lying about how we'll all be safe, doing something?” He could hear a hysterical note in his own voice now.
“There's nothing left to do, Jake.”
Jake looked for one more moment at the stony faced man sitting in the mayor's chair. He turned then, and ran back outside, back to the people who needed him.
It was noisier now. There were people talking, shouting, and soldiers shouting back at them. They were afraid - that he could hear, but he could hear anger too. He heard something else then, that made his blood run cold. An unfortunately familiar sound: gunshots.
He didn't have a gun, or any sensible plan, but he was running towards the sound. Nothing else had hurt him yet in this strange world - not the dogs, the road thieves, or weapons swung by fearful townspeople. He followed the direction in which he had heard the sound - down this street, around that corner - and as he came onto the street, he could already see a crowd gathering around one of the lawns. His heart lurched.
He could recognize his own mother, from this far away. She was kneeling, clinging desperately to something, sobbing. He sprinted the rest of the way.
As he came closer, he noticed the soldier standing a few feet away, still pointing his gun. Others were already crossing the doorstep, going inside to make sure no one else was hiding.
His mother was shouting now, between her sobs, as she held onto the body lying in front of her, bright red blood flowing over her hands and onto the grass. Heather's eyes were closed, her face almost peaceful, her skin especially pale under the afternoon sun.
Jake was frozen, watching in horror the elements of the scene in front of him coming into focus. Eric was standing behind his mother, shaking. The soldier was saying something, something about “...she pulled a weapon on us. We had no choice.”
“It wasn't even loaded!” said Gail, her voice cracking. She let out a long shuddering breath, and turned her tear-stained face towards the lifeless one beneath her, smoothing the dark hair away from her still eyes.
The soldier didn't stop. “Ma'am, this is an evacuation. We are under orders from the federal government to bring order here. Civilian safety is of the utmost importance, but -”
“This is order?” she cried, glaring up at him. “Do you know how many times strangers, some in uniform, have come here and hurt us?”
Jake noticed Eric shaking even more visibly. He still couldn't move himself. He could barely breathe. He could feel something boiling inside him as the soldier spoke again.
“We told her we were representing the Allied States government. It's not our fault if she didn't believe -”
“And why should she?” came Gail's voice again. “The last people who came here on government orders killed -” her voice was wavering, but suddenly became hard as she said, “You're just like them. I don't believe you either.”
She fixed him with a calm, still glare that was so filled with hatred, Jake would have been slightly afraid if he hadn't known exactly how she felt. April, his father, Mitchell Cafferty and Ravenwood, the Marines, Gray's misguided use of power, he couldn't remember what had already been there in him and what he had seen here. His mother said nothing else, but the look she was giving the soldier said everything: What more can you take away from us?
The soldier evidently did not see all of this; as he started talking again he reached for Gail's arm. “I'm sorry you feel that way ma'am, but we're still in the middle of an evacuation, so I'm going to have to ask you to -”
With a shout, Eric had lunged at the soldier, screaming wordlessly as he wrestled him to the ground. Before Jake could make a move to help his brother, three other soldiers had appeared, and were pulling Eric up. He kept fighting, smashing, hitting and kicking anything in his reach. They subdued him forcefully.
One of them, who was obviously in charge, said, “You're being evacuated, the easy way or the hard way. You pick.”
Eric struggled again. “Fine,” said the man. Two of the soldiers started dragging Eric towards the street. Finally, after standing still so long, Jake snapped back into action. “Where are you taking him?” he demanded.
“To the transport. We're trying to get everyone moving towards your town hall, where there will be trucks waiting, in some kind of order, but some people are hell bent on making sure that doesn't happen.”
Eric fought with his captors some more. “You're lying!” he shouted. “This isn't order!”
“I suggest you come too. We wouldn't want your family to be separated,” said the one in charge.
Jake looked down at his mother, who was staring wide-eyed at her struggling son, but still holding onto Heather. He felt as torn as she was.
“We're right behind you,” he said, hoping they wouldn't do anything to his brother before he caught up with them. The two men started to pull Eric along with them. “Stay with Mom, Jake!” he could hear Eric shouting.
“You two should be coming along now too,” said the original soldier, the one Jake assumed was the shooter.
For the first time, Jake felt his own face crumbling. “What about her?” he motioned to Heather.
“We'll deal with the body,” said the man.
Jake took a shaky breath, restraining himself from reacting so he wouldn't be dragged away like Eric had been. He bent down over both forms on the ground, putting his arm gently on his mother's shoulder.
“Mom?” he said quietly. “It's okay.”
“It's not okay, Jake,” she said, quietly but firmly.
“I know,” he whispered, “But we have to go be with Eric. He needs us now.”
He saw her struggling, but knew she would get up for her sons. “Just a minute,” she snarled at the soldier, who took a step back. She gently lowered Heather's head onto the ground, smoothing her hair one last time and placing her hands together. Jake reached for his mother's hand, briefly brushing his own across Heather's arm. He wished dearly he didn't have to leave her. He forced himself not to think about it as he pulled his mother to her feet, and began walking away, his arm around her.
Neither of them said anything as they followed the rest of the people who were slowly making their way towards main street. Jake kept holding on tightly to his mother, who kept walking, looking ahead with that terrifying calm that had come over her. He himself was fighting to keep going. His mind was on Eric, fighting with a fire he could no longer surpress, and Heather, too late for anyone or anything, and the others, all of them, lost and confused and being taken away from their homes. He didn't need to imagine this - he could see them all around him.
Main Street was even more crowded than it had been before. Jake didn't know how many men were needed to make so many people move at once. He could see the trucks, being loaded up with people. Headed towards some FEMA camp, no doubt. 'What are they going to do when they don't find Hawkins? Is that why they want everyone in the same place, so they can question them, and keep them away from their houses? What Freddie, you're not going to speak to me now?'
He had no time for the reply that didn't come. He was trying to navigate a Main Street swarming with people; frantic family members calling out for each other, children crying, and some people still arguing with the soldiers.
He spotted Jimmy standing at the edge of the crowd, looking around helplessly. He steered his mother in that direction.
“Have you seen Margaret?” he asked.
Gail nodded silently. Jake was scanning the crowd for Eric. “Jimmy, what the hell happened?” He didn't know what he was asking anymore. It was all crowding together.
“They told us to help, but they took over themselves. We're being evacuated too.”
He caught a glimpse of Eric, in the midst of a crowd, still shouting loudly at the men who were holding his arms. “Mom, can you stay here with Jimmy?” he asked. She followed his gaze to Eric.
“Just stay with Jimmy, okay? I can't help Eric if I'm worried about you getting hurt too.”
She nodded slowly. He ran into the crowd, but before he could get to Eric, he was cut off by a group of people rushing forward ahead of him. Skylar was in the midst of them, shouting. He grabbed her by the arm.
“What are you doing, Skylar?” he shouted.
“I told you something was coming!” she shouted.
“I told you not to do anything stupid!” he shouted back. “Where did these people come from?”
“The church!” she yelled over the noise. “I gathered everyone I could as soon as I saw what was happening.” She started to rush forward again, he tried to pull her back.
“These guys aren't playing!” he shouted. “I've already seen them kill someone!”
Skylar just looked more incensed. “Then I won't go willingly,” she said, her face determined. “This is our home!” she screamed over the roar, as her compatriots shouted and cheered their approval.
“We won't leave without a fight!” They took up the scream, all shouting at once, pushing forward. The soldiers were trying to push back, but things were getting out of hand quickly. Someone threw a punch, someone lunged, and the soldiers struck back. Suddenly, as if a switch flipped, and it had become a full blown riot.
Totally unafraid for the first time, Jake pushed through the crowd. He dodged between his fellow townspeople and the soldiers they were fighting, aware once again of the eerie feeling of time slowing. He stepped around Bill, who had jumped into the fray. His friend was falling, his nose already bleeding as he hit the ground. He pushed between some people who were trying to get out of the middle of the fight, and found his way to Eric. One of the men who had been holding him had entered into the fight, knocking down a man with his baton. The other was fighting Eric.
Eric threw a punch at the soldier, connecting with his jaw, but the soldier responded by hitting Eric with the butt of his gun. Jake rushed forward and tackled the soldier. He fell to the ground. Jumping up, Jake grabbed Eric before he could rush into combat with another opponent.
“We have to get out, Eric!” he shouted.
“I don't care!” his brother yelled back.
“Come on, Eric,” he pleaded. “You have so much -”
“What do I have, Jake?” he screamed. “What?”
Jake couldn't speak. What did they have? The rushing around him was deafening. They were blurring together, slowing down. Suddenly, everything had stopped, and Freddie was standing beside him.
“How are you doing, buddy?” he asked quietly.
“Not so great,” said Jake, taking a huge breath. He realized, as he stood there panting, that they were still there, all around him, frozen like a film frame. He looked around at his friends, his family, his neighbours, his people, engaged in a losing fight with the armed men.
“Don't you just wish you could harness all that fighting spirit?” asked Freddie.
Jake glowered at his friend. “What do you mean?”
“Your friends who will defend themselves and their homes, to the bitter end. Your brother, not standing to see those he loves hurt, your mother, standing up to the people who take away from her.”
He leaned around, staring at the people frozen in the bizarre tableau. Bill was on the ground, holding his face. He could see Skylar, her whole face seeming to be in motion, though nothing moved. Two soldiers had grabbed a hold of her, another had raised his gun and was pointing it at her. Jimmy was on the edge of the crowd, running towards his friends. His mother was on the edge too, searching for her sons, tears still streaming down her face. He could see Mary, amidst a group of people pushing towards the soldiers, her arms raised to stay above the sea. He looked, but he couldn't see Mimi anywhere. He saw, at the edge of the crowd, a group of soldiers readying the tear gas for the tangled mass of people.
He sighed. “This is just like-”
“Just like what you were afraid would happen?” asked Freddie.
Jake held his hands to his head. “What the hell are they doing?”
Freddie glanced at him calmly. “The question is: what are you going to do, Jake?”
They still didn't move, but he felt like he could hear them, their thoughts, their fears, one pulsing cry.
He looked to Eric again. His forehead had a gash in it, his body was twisting around as he searched for the next target for his rage, and his eyes were stricken.
“What are you going to do?” asked Freddie.
He was seeing more faces now: Emily sighing as she stared across the debris-filled river, Stanley laughing desperately, trying to connect with someone who could talk back, Heather's fierce eyes as she stood in her dark doorway.
He thought of them again, that day he had last seen them all, before Bonnie had been killed and everything had changed again. They had been confused and angry, but standing up from their chairs, asking questions.
He could feel it inside him now, his whole being, filled with their collective scream. He looked away from Freddie, and ran towards his brother.
He grabbed Eric's arms, and the movement started again. Eric was struggling, not realizing yet who was holding onto him.
“Eric, we have to stop this! People are getting hurt. Not this way!” He could barely hear his own voice over the crashing ocean.
“I - can't - stop it!” shouted Eric, fighting against Jake as he protested.
“We can't let them die like this!” shouted Jake.
“People are already dead, Jake! You have no idea what's already been done -”
“I do! I know what you've already been through. April's dead! Dad's dead. They're gone. These people are alive. We need to help them stop this. They shouldn't die over this!”
Eric struggled against him, and sobbed openly as he kept shouting. “That's how we'll all end anyway. I've seen it, again and again. We could never save them. Never!”
As screams erupted around him, Jake held on, using all the strength he had left. “I know, Eric. You did what you could. You always have. Do what you can now. Please.”
“I can't Jake! I can't keep standing here stupidly while they die. Ravenwood, Mitchell Cafferty, and that soldier back there. I didn't stand up to any of them.”
“It's not your fault they died. Heather, Dale, or April. They're gone, and we're here. Come on Eric!”
“No, Jake!” shouted Eric, breaking free.
Jake took a quick breath and lunged forward, tackling Eric. They both fell, struggling amidst the huge throng of people running, fighting, and trampling. Jake let out a cry as he felt himself sinking into the pit of flailing arms and legs and bodies.
“Jake?”
It was dark, and the cold seeped into his bones.
“Oh my God!”
There were still arms holding onto him, and he still struggled. He could hear someone shouting nearby, “It's Jake Green!” but he couldn't tell if the voice belonged to the arms he was trying to push away.
“Jake, are you okay?”
He blinked, and glanced up. In the darkness, he could barely make out a head of curly hair. His eyes focused in on the shocked face that was inches away from his.
“Dale?” he whispered groggily. Dale was supposed to be dead. “How are you here?”
“Importing - what are you doing here? Seems like it was a bad crash.”
Dale was looking at him with an intense expression of worry. It wasn't making sense.
“You're - you're dead. And Heather-” his voice was strained. “The others are all - Eric! Where's Eric?”
“Do you think you hit your head?” asked Dale, who was leaning back a little. Jake was grabbing him by the sleeves.
“They were all just here - they were dying! We have to do something! Eric! I need to stop him!”
“He's - his - she's - I'll go get - hang on!” sputtered Dale, trying to stand. “Just hang on a second Jake. I'll be back.”
He was alone again, lying on the ground, and his surroundings were coming into sharp relief. They were somewhere outside, and there were no buildings around.
He heard soft footprints approaching. Dale stood over him again, careful not to get too close this time. “Mary was waiting for a delivery. I got her on the radio. She and Eric are on their way, and they're bringing help. Can you move?”
Jake tried, and answered him with a groan. “Maybe you'd better not try,” said Dale.
Jake was still reeling from the things he'd witnessed moments before. He wanted to ask more questions, but as he felt the crushing feeling coming back to him, he stayed silent. Dale stood nearby, shifting his weight awkwardly. A few times, he mumbled something to one of the others Jake couldn't make out in the darkness.
Soon, he could hear another vehicle approaching. Headlights blinded him as it skidded to a stop. “Over here!” Dale shouted unnecessarily.
“Jake!” His brother's voice, so anguished moments earlier, reached his ears.
“Eric?” he whispered. Eric was beside him on the ground already, assessing him for injuries and throwing a blanket over him. “Eric - Mary, you should find her, she's -”
“She went to get Mom. We'll see them at the med centre.”
“Everyone else - you have to stop them. They'll die.”
“You don't know how glad we were to hear you were alive. Everyone's been so worried!”
Eric wasn't listening. He didn't understand. “Eric, the A.S.A. caught the others. They're going to take them away.”
“No, Jake, we're okay. They let us all go free. Everything - well, so much has happened!”
Jake's breathing was heavy, and he could hear the hoarseness in his voice. “But they were taking you away. And Heather was dead. I kept thinking, everyone else will be dead soon.” His voice sounded pitiful, but he was barely aware of the paramedics lifting him onto a stretcher. He could only see his brother's confused face.
“No, they let us go. Heather's fine. She's - well, she'll want to tell you herself. It's okay, Jake,” he said, looking at his older brother with concern. “You were just dreaming.”
“But -” Jake started as they pushed him into the ambulance. It was coming back now - Freddie, the choice he'd have to make. He hadn't realized it had been as simple as waking.
“I know, Jake. Sometimes I dream about it too,” said Eric.
The doors swung shut as as the ambulance started; both Green brothers were left to thoughts of their own dreams.