Alex didn't sleep that night.
Not because he was afraid—fear had a rhythm, a cycle he understood well enough to manage—but because his thoughts refused to slow down. They stacked on top of one another, neat and sharp, like tools laid out before a job that was already overdue.
Hawkins Lab had confirmed what he'd suspected for weeks.
This wasn't an accident.
This wasn't a crack in reality caused by negligence or bad luck. It was a project. A sustained, methodical attempt to push into somewhere humanity had no business pushing into.
And worse—someone on the other side was starting to push back.
Alex sat at the small desk in his apartment, a cup of untouched coffee growing cold beside him. He'd dismantled the transmitter from the lab in his mind a dozen times, replaying the way the energy spiked just before the breach destabilized.
Brenner hadn't panicked.
That detail mattered.
People panicked when they lost control. Brenner had leaned in.
That meant contingency plans. Layers of them.
Which meant Alex needed to move faster.
SYSTEM STATUS
Cognitive Load: Elevated
Suggestion: Strategic prioritization required
"Yeah," Alex murmured. "I know."
He opened a notebook—paper, not electronic—and began writing.
Short-term goals.
Reduce Hawkins exposure.
Increase personal capability without drawing attention.
Create income streams that justified travel.
Mid-term goals.
Leave Hawkins regularly.
Establish footholds in other cities.
Identify other thin zones.
Long-term goals.
Outpace the breach curve.
Stay alive.
Simple. Clean. Terrifying.
A knock came at the door just before sunrise.
Alex didn't jump. He didn't even tense.
He just closed the notebook and stood.
Claire looked worse than he felt.
Her hair was pulled back hastily, dark circles shadowing her eyes. She held a cigarette she hadn't lit, turning it between her fingers like she wasn't sure why it was there.
"You look like hell," she said.
"High praise," Alex replied, stepping aside. "Come in."
She didn't sit. She paced instead, stopping near the window where the first hints of daylight crept in.
"They followed me," she said quietly.
Alex's jaw tightened. "Lab?"
"No," she replied. "Not directly. Different car. Same behavior. Too deliberate."
"Did they approach?"
"No. That's the problem." She met his eyes. "They want me nervous."
Alex exhaled slowly. "Then it's working."
She laughed once, humorless. "I'm a journalist, Alex. I've had angry mayors, drunk cops, corporate lawyers breathing down my neck. This is different."
"Because this time," Alex said, "they don't care if you print anything."
Silence stretched between them.
Claire broke it first. "You're leaving."
It wasn't a question.
Alex nodded. "Not permanently. But often. I'm setting up consulting work. Electronics repair contracts. Software development."
"In 1982," she said flatly.
He smiled. "You'd be amazed what people will pay for if you use the right words."
She studied him. "You've done this before."
"Something like that."
She leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Take me with you."
Alex blinked. "What?"
"I can't stay here and pretend everything's fine," she said. "And I won't be useful dead."
"That's not—"
"I know," she cut in. "I know I slow you down. I know I'm not… whatever you are."
Alex's expression softened. "You're the only person asking the right questions."
She smiled faintly. "That might be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."
He considered it carefully. Traveling with Claire meant risk. Exposure. Emotional complication.
But it also meant perspective.
And someone who noticed when things didn't add up.
"Fine," Alex said finally. "But you listen when I say run."
"Deal."
Outside, Hawkins woke up slowly, unaware that two of its residents were already planning their exits.
The bus to Indianapolis smelled like old upholstery and regret.
Alex took the window seat, watching Hawkins shrink into the distance. Claire sat beside him, notebook open, already scribbling observations.
"First stop?" she asked.
"Indy," Alex replied. "Then Chicago. Maybe Detroit."
She raised an eyebrow. "You aiming to collect all the worst reputations in one trip?"
"Bad places have good blind spots," he said.
The bus hit a pothole, rattling them both.
Claire glanced at him. "You okay? You went pale."
Alex pressed his fingers against his temple.
The system had gone quiet.
Too quiet.
SYSTEM ALERT
Connection latency detected
External interference suspected
Warning: Sensory desynchronization possible
The air felt wrong again.
Not thin like before. Not cold.
Close.
Alex scanned the passengers subtly. Ordinary people. Tired faces. No one reacting.
But something was there.
Watching.
Testing.
Claire followed his gaze. "Alex?"
"Stay calm," he said softly. "And don't react."
The bus lights flickered.
Just once.
A child near the front started crying.
Alex's pulse ticked up.
SYSTEM WARNING
Micro-breach detected
Location: Mobile containment compromised
Threat level: Low but unstable
"Mobile breach?" Alex muttered under his breath. "That's new."
Claire's voice was barely audible. "Talk to me."
"The lab isn't the only one poking holes anymore," he said. "Or the hole's learning to move."
The crying stopped abruptly.
Too abruptly.
The child stared forward, eyes unfocused.
Alex stood slowly, gripping the overhead rail as if steadying himself.
"Hey," he called lightly. "Driver?"
The man didn't respond.
Alex swallowed.
SYSTEM EMERGENCY NOTICE
Direct attention detected
Recommendation: Disruption and disengagement
Alex reached into his bag, fingers closing around a compact device he'd modified overnight. Not a weapon. A signal spike—messy, unfocused.
He triggered it.
The lights blew.
The bus jerked violently as the driver shouted in surprise. People screamed. Chaos erupted.
And whatever had been watching recoiled.
The pressure vanished instantly.
Alex dropped back into his seat, breathing hard.
Claire grabbed his arm. "You did that?"
"Mostly," he said. "And that means we're officially off the map."
The bus limped to a stop ten minutes later, everyone shaken but unharmed. Power failure, they were told. Rare, but not impossible.
Alex didn't believe in coincidence anymore.
As they stepped off onto the roadside, Claire looked at him with a mix of awe and fear.
"This isn't just Hawkins," she said.
"No," Alex replied. "Hawkins was the invitation."
SYSTEM UPDATE
Breach behavior evolving
Containment assumptions invalid
New directive: Adaptation required
The sun was high now, bright and indifferent.
Alex adjusted his bag on his shoulder and started walking.
"Welcome to the bigger picture," he said.
And somewhere, unseen and patient—
Something followed.