Chapter 50: The Infected Citizens
Steve
The vision hit during Will's treatment.
Pain Heal activated, absorbing his possession attempt. The corruption link flared wider than ever before. Suddenly I wasn't just in Will's mind—I was in dozens of minds simultaneously.
Eyes opening across Hawkins.
Mrs. Gillespie at the grocery store, stocking shelves.
Tom Holloway at the Hawkins Post, typing article.
Bruce at the hospital, taking temperatures.
Doris at City Hall, filing paperwork.
Thirty-seven pairs of eyes. Thirty-seven minds with dark threads weaving through them. Not possessed, not yet. But connected. Being slowly integrated into the hive.
I gasped, pulling back from Will. My hands shook.
"Steve?" Joyce grabbed my shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"It's spreading to people." The words came out broken. "Not just Will. Not possessing—connecting. Building a network. I saw through their eyes. All of them."
"How many?" Hopper demanded.
"Thirty-seven. Maybe more I didn't catch."
Will sat up, face pale. "I can feel them too. When Steve's connected to me, I feel the whole hive. They're all there. At the edges."
"We need to identify them," Dr. Owens said. "Quarantine and treatment before full integration."
"I'll get the car," Hopper said.
Will
Riding through Hawkins, hunting infected people, felt wrong. Like witch hunt. Like paranoia made real.
But I could feel them. Small sparks of darkness in the town's consciousness. Steve's corruption let him see clearer, but I could sense direction, distance.
"Left at the next street," I instructed.
Hopper drove. Steve sat beside me, corruption spreading down his shoulders now. He looked half-dead. Moved like it too—exhausted, running on fumes and determination.
"There." I pointed at the grocery store. "Mrs. Gillespie. She's inside."
We entered. Found her stocking cans, moving mechanically. Her eyes flickered when she saw us—recognition, fear, something else.
"Mrs. Gillespie?" Hopper approached carefully. "We need you to come with us. There's been a contamination incident."
"I'm fine."
"Ma'am, you were near the pumpkin patch three days ago. We're testing everyone who had exposure."
"I said I'm fine."
Steve stepped forward. The corruption on his face made her flinch. "You feel cold, don't you? Like something's watching from inside your head. Whispering things you don't quite hear."
Her composure cracked. "How did you—"
"Because I have it too. And I know how to help."
She came quietly after that.
Joyce
Watching Steve identify infected citizens terrified me.
He knew things he shouldn't. Saw connections invisible to everyone else. The corruption spreading across his body pulsed when he got close to infected people, responding to the hive mind's presence.
He was becoming more monster than boy.
By evening, we'd quarantined thirty-seven people. Teachers, shop workers, parents I knew from Will's school. All showing early-stage infection—cold symptoms, distant stares, reporting dreams of tunnels and darkness.
Dr. Owens' team tried heat therapy. Worked on some, barely affected others. The infection was too advanced.
"We need another option," Owens said, frustrated.
Steve stepped forward. "I can absorb it. Like I do with Will. Pain Heal can pull the Mind Flayer's presence out."
"Steve, you're already heavily corrupted," I protested. "Taking on more will—"
"Will what? Kill me?" His smile was bitter. "I'm already dying, Joyce. Every treatment brings me closer. At least this way, I save people."
"No. Absolutely not."
"It's not your choice."
He moved to the first infected person—Tom Holloway, Heather's father. Placed hands on his temples. Pain Heal activated.
Steve screamed.
Steve
Absorbing Mind Flayer presence from one person was manageable. Twelve people? Agony beyond description.
Each infection tore through me, joining the corruption already spreading through my system. The hive mind's vast intelligence pressed against my consciousness, trying to integrate me fully.
Join us, traveler. Stop fighting. Become part of something greater.
Never. Never. NEVER.
I pushed it down, locked it away, absorbed more.
Tom Holloway's eyes cleared. He gasped, stumbling. "What... what happened?"
"You're going to be okay," I managed.
Moved to the next patient. Absorbed their infection. Screamed again.
The corruption exploded darker. Black veins spread down my shoulders, across my chest, racing toward my heart.
Joyce tried to pull me away. I shrugged her off, moved to the third patient.
By the twelfth patient, I couldn't stand anymore. Collapsed, corruption covering my upper torso completely. Felt like dying. Felt like burning alive from inside.
"Steve!" Chrissy's voice, distant. "Someone help him!"
Eleven appeared. Placed small hands on my chest. Her powers flared—attempting to burn out the corruption like she'd done with the Gate last year.
The corruption resisted. Writhed. Fought back.
El's nose bled. She pushed harder. The corruption dimmed slightly, but didn't leave. Couldn't leave. It was woven too deep into my biology now.
"Too strong," El whispered, exhausted. "It's part of you now. Can't separate without killing you."
I knew. Had known for a while. The corruption wasn't infection anymore. It was integration. I was becoming a bridge between dimensions whether I wanted to or not.
Joyce
Steve lay on the medical cot, unconscious, corruption covering half his body. Black veins traced patterns like circuit boards across his skin. His breathing was shallow, labored.
But the twelve people he'd treated were clear. Infection purged. Eyes bright and aware again.
"He saved them," Hopper said quietly. "At what cost?"
"Too high a cost." I touched Steve's corrupted hand—cold, wrong, but still Steve underneath. "He's killing himself saving everyone."
Will approached, face guilty. "It's my fault. If I wasn't infected—"
"No." I pulled him close. "None of this is your fault. The Mind Flayer did this. Not you."
"But Steve's suffering because of me."
"Steve's suffering because he cares. That's not your fault either."
Dr. Owens examined Steve's corruption. "The integration is accelerating. At this rate, he'll be completely converted within two weeks. Three if we're lucky."
"Converted to what?" Chrissy demanded.
"Unknown. Either he'll become Mind Flayer's puppet, or... something else. A true bridge between dimensions. Conscious, but changed."
"Can you stop it?"
"I don't know."
Twenty-five infected people remained untreated. Steve had saved twelve before collapsing. Who would save the rest?
Who would save Steve?
He woke hours later, corruption stabilized but permanent now. Those black veins wouldn't fade. Couldn't fade. They were part of him.
"How many left?" he asked weakly.
"Twenty-five."
"I can treat more. After I rest."
"Steve—"
"Don't argue. There's no other option." He sat up, swaying. "We assault the tunnels in thirty-six hours. I need everyone healthy and free from hive influence. That means purging infections now."
"You're going to kill yourself."
"Maybe. But they'll live."
He stood, walked to the thirteenth patient, placed trembling hands on their head.
And screamed again.
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