BEWARE and WARNING!
This book is different from other books.
You and YOU ALONE are in charge of what happens in this story.
There are dangers, choices, adventures, and consequences. YOU must use all of your numerous talents and much of your enormous intelligence. The wrong decision could end in disaster—even death. But don’t despair. At any time, YOU can go back and make another choice, alter the path of your story, and change its result.
YOU are a high school student from California. You’re preparing to attend a journalism seminar in a distant town over your spring break, when you suddenly meet a troubled student with a mysterious background. Do you choose to help her, or do you continue on your trip to Hawkins, Indiana? Whatever you choose, you will soon nd yourself on an unexpected adventure that takes you into a world of secret government operations, psychic powers, parallel worlds and even vengeful monsters!
It is the beginning of the last day before spring break at Lenora Hills High, and you are stuck inside with the editor in chief of the school paper as he lectures on and on about your duty to the paper. You want to roll your eyes so badly, but right now you need to appear to be listening.
“You haven’t turned in the name for your next new student pro le,” he says, barely disguising his disdain for you.
“Isn’t there something else I could do? I’m a good writer, and I could really dig into a good story if you let me, instead of these uff pieces,” you remind him for the millionth time.
“Not this again.” He frowns. “Look, either give me a name by the end of the day or you’re off the paper.”
With those last words, he orders you out of the room. You grumble as you leave, stomping down the hallway amid smiling faces eager for the break. The energy is contagious, and you feel lighter. At least you have something to look forward to over break: a real conference for student journalists in a whole other state! You’ll get to travel by plane on your own for the rst time and meet student journalists from all over the country. Maybe then someone will take you and your work seriously. You hope that will be your host and organizer for the conference, Fred Benson. For now, you head to class daydreaming of the conference waiting for you in Hawkins, Indiana.
Turn to the next page.
You head out to the courtyard as the day ends. You still haven’t found a subject for the pro le for the paper, but at this point, you don’t really care. A yell pulls your attention; a crowd is gathered around some freshmen. One is on her knees after apparently falling; the smug looks of the girls standing by her make it clear she was tripped on purpose. The girl on the ground gets up and yells, “Angela!” She puts out her hands and screams. There is a moment of silence, and then the crowd breaks into laughter at the absurd spectacle. A teacher pushes through the crowd and pulls the girl, Angela, away as the kids start to move on. The strange girl is joined by a boy, who tries to comfort her as they pick up the pieces of a broken project. You catch a snippet of their conversation. “We can x it together . . . ,” the boy says. Her doe eyes water, and your heart breaks. Aside from her bizarre scream, she seems helpless and afraid. You could just walk away; you need to go home and get ready for your trip. That has been the only thing keeping you going through the sluggish week. Still, you feel for the girl. You could go talk to her; it seems the boy she’s with isn’t able to comfort her. You realize she’s new and you need a subject for your pro le! Do you go to talk to her?
If you choose to talk to her, turn to page 4.
If you choose to get ready for your trip to Hawkins, Indiana, turn to page 74.
“Here, let me help.” You bend down to pick up the severed bottom half of a clay man in a brown uniform and hand it to the girl. “I’m sorry for what happened. Bullies are a pain.”
“Like mouth breathers?” she asks genuinely. You laugh. “Yeah, you could call them that—a lot of bullies are mouth breathers.”
“Like the boys who called Will Zombie Boy—” “El!”
“Zombie Boy? That’s a weird insult.” You look at the boy, Will, quizzically. He clearly wants to avoid that conversation, so you take the hint. “You’re new to the school, right?” They nod. “Have you read the Lenora Hills Gazette? We’re doing a series of interviews with students here, just basic introduction stuff. Would you be interested in being interviewed? It’s pretty cool.” You start to see a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Will blurts out. “Anyway, your boyfriend will be here over break.” He starts to walk away.
“I never got your name . . . ,” you say hurriedly, and reach out your hand for a handshake to stop her from leaving. She says her name is Jane. “Well, Jane, it might be cool for your boyfriend to see you being interviewed.” Her eyes brighten. Bingo! You got her! “Yeah, maybe he can be in it too. We could feature a picture of you together.”
Jane quickly agrees, and you make a plan to meet at RinkO-Mania tomorrow.
Go on to the next page.
You spin me right round, baby, right round . . . The music thumps loudly at Rink-O-Mania but still doesn’t overcome the sounds of laughing, squealing, and the occasional fall. The disco ball streams light around the rink. Jane leads Mike, her boyfriend, by the hand to the rink. You trail behind, trying to catch snippets of the conversation, but sticking close to Will, who follows the lovey- dovey couple miserably. “So you, Mike, and Jane all grew up together?”
“Uh, no,” Will says distractedly. “Mike and I grew up together, and we met El— I mean, Jane, a few years ago, and then when Hop— I mean, when her dad died in a mall re, she came to live with us and we moved here.”
You notice Will calling Jane El. Will stays quiet watching Jane and Mike. There’s a wistfulness in his eyes. You don’t know what to make of it. Before you can ask him about the nickname, the group skates out of the rink to grab food.
“Milkshakes! Yum!” Angela approaches your table. “Where, oh where have you been hiding this handsome thing?” Before you can register what is happening, Angela pulls Jane toward the rink. Will looks panicked as one of the boys with Angela grabs a milkshake from the table and follows.
Turn to the next page.
You race to the rink. The lights fade, and a spotlight hits Jane as Angela leads a group skating menacingly around her. You try to push through, but it’s too late! The boy throws the milkshake in Jane’s face, and she falls at on her back, to the crowd’s amusement.
“Sorry you can’t cry to teacher today,” taunts Angela. “You’ll just have to cry to your daddy instead. Oh, wait, you can’t do that either.” Angela skates away with a vicious grin.
You can’t believe she went there, to make fun of someone’s dad being dead! Jane grabs a skate. Jane marches in the direction of Angela. You chase after her. “Jane, don’t!”
She smashes the skate in Angela’s face. The wounded girl crashes to the oor, touches her face, sees the blood on her ngers, and cries. Mike and Will run up to Jane.
Her eyes look glazed over, as if she is somewhere else. You leave, not wanting to get more involved with Jane.
Go on to the next page.
Sunlight wakes you up. It’s a bright day, and you feel hopeful about putting yesterday’s events behind you. Your mom is already at work, so you’re home alone, checking and doublechecking that you have everything for your trip to Hawkins, when you hear a knock at the front door.
“Mom?” She probably forgot something. You open the door to nd two police of cers asking for you. “Is something wrong?”
“You need to come with us. You are under arrest for assault and battery,” one of cer says gruf y as he pulls you out the door.
“Wait! There must be a mistake. I didn’t do anything!” You pull back, trying not to let them take you.
“You were listed as an accomplice by the victim. You can explain at the station.”
The next thing you know, you’re in the police car. There are still some hours before your ight, and you hope that you’ll get back in time to make it. You didn’t do anything, after all.
Turn to the next page.
“Turn to your left.”
You turn and try to hold your head high, but all you want to do is scream in frustration. The camera ashes, and your mug shots are nished. The of cer leads you into another sparse room to wait for transport. Nothing you said in the interview helped, and you remembered too late that you probably should have stayed quiet and waited for a lawyer or a parent. How many times did your mother tell you to know your rights and use them? You sit on a hard bench and ruminate over it.
The door opens, and another of cer enters, followed by . . . Jane. Great! When the of cer leaves, Jane leans over to you.
“I’m really sorry,” Jane whispers. “I tried to tell them you didn’t do anything, but they said Angela said something different.”
“Save it.” You turn your body away from her as best you can on the rigid bench. “Everything is ruined now anyway.” The defeat washes over you. So much for spring break. Once your mom bails you out of jail, she’ll put you under house arrest.
“Time to move,” an of cer yells through the door before walking in and leading you and Jane out to a police van. You are going to jail! As the van pulls away, you see Mike standing on the road staring after Jane.
Go on to the next page.
You rest your head against the cold metal and stare at the road through the little sealed windows. At least you’ll have a more interesting column than usual for the paper.
You are jolted when the van comes to a sudden stop. Pulling yourself upright, you yell in the direction of the driver, “What’s going on?”
Jane tenses up. She looks ready to spring into action. You hear the lock click, and Jane pushes through the doors, knocking over a cop and landing face- rst on the asphalt. Two men grab her, and she yells.
A kind-looking man stands before her and says, “Hey, kiddo.” She stops struggling and walks slowly toward the man, as if in a spell. Jane knows him?
“What about this kid?” A stern-looking woman in a suit with short dark hair nods in your direction.
“This is a—” Jane looks back at you, then turns to the man. “Friend.”
The man sighs and nods to the other adults. The stern woman offers you a hand and leads you out of the van to a black car. Jane follows the man to a different car.
“Where are you taking me?” The woman doesn’t answer. It doesn’t seem like you have much choice.
Turn to the next page.
You are driven to a small diner. Inside you and Jane sit with the man. A waitress takes your order. Jane asks for pancakes. The man turns his attention to you. “I’m Dr. Owens. So you’re Jane’s friend?”
“Um . . . right.”
“Well, you’ve got a choice to make, and I’m sorry I can’t give you any more details than this. I need to take Jane with me, but she won’t go until she knows what will happen to you. You’ve got two options— you can come with us, or you can go back to Lenora but not back to your house.”
“Then where would I go?”
“The Byerses’ place.” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you more than that.” You can see a plea in Jane’s eyes; whatever is happening, she is scared. After what Jane did to Angela, is it wise to go with her? And what is happening with the Byerses?
If you choose to go with Jane, go on to next page.
If you choose to go back to Lenora, turn to page 25.
The convoy transporting you and Jane stops in front of an anonymous concrete hut with a single door. They lead you inside to an elevator. “You didn’t really think we were working out of a shed, did you?” Owens asks. The elevator stops, and the doors open into a large concrete hallway. “Do you know what an ICBM is?” the doctor continues. You all proceed past guards. Your mind ashes to old black-and-white movie reels of mushroom clouds in history class. “It’s a big ol’ empty space, so we repurposed it to house something much more powerful than a missile: you.” Owens points to Jane. You want to ask Owens what he means.
“Hello, Eleven.” Jane stops dead in her tracks, her face pale as she stares at the tall man in front of her. Jane’s breathing gets heavier, and goose bumps appear on her neck as the man slowly gets closer; he knows she’s scared of him. “Your gifts have been stolen. I believe I know why. Let us work together again, you and I. Daughter and papa.”
Turn to the next page.
“I thought Will said your father died in a mall re?” you blurt out.
“He’s not my—” Jane struggles to speak. You nally understand what it means to smell fear.
The man puts his hand on Jane’s shoulder. Jane pushes him off and runs back down the hall toward the elevator.
Without thinking, you run after her. Three security of cers block her way and grab her. She struggles but is no match for them. A woman in a lab coat comes up holding what looks like a gun with a syringe attached. She stabs it in Jane’s neck. Jane goes limp. “What are you doing to her?” you yell.
The tall man walks up and shushes you, then bends down to cradle Jane. “Everything’s going to be all right. You’re home.” He lifts her up and walks away.
Go on to the next page.
Owens follows the man, but you pull on his sleeve. “Who is he? What has he done to Jane?”
“He’s . . . His name is Dr. Brenner. For lack of a better word, he’s—a colleague.” A team of lab coats swarms around Jane, changing her into a white out t with a matching cap that has wires sticking out of it. In the middle of the room is a large machine that opens up to a pool of water. You watch as the team lays Jane in the water.
“What are they doing?” You nudge Owens, who stares at Jane with a sorrowful look.
Brenner interrupts. “We’re getting her gift back. This is the only way.” He walks into a control room overlooking the machine. In the room are various screens and monitors. You can see Jane inside the tank and a small television that is blank.
“What do you mean, her gift?”
Brenner ips some switches, and the machine starts to whirr. The television in the control room begins playing. You see a small child, a girl with a shaved head, in what looks like a hospital gown.
“Is that—”
“Jane, years ago,” Owens answers. You look from the television screen to see Jane, the real one, on one of the monitors, oating in a pool of water. “You should go. You don’t need to see this.”
Turn to the next page.
“You brought me here, remember?” you retort, your eyes never leaving the screen. There are other kids like Jane in the video— girls and boys of various ages, all with shaved heads and loose gray gowns. They are playing in a white room with a rainbow painted on the oor and along the walls. “What is this?”
“Surveillance tape from my old lab,” Brenner answers.
“Well, well, look who nally decided to join us.” A blond man in a white shirt and white slacks walks up to the young Jane on the television.
“Who is that?” you ask Owens. He doesn’t answer. A machine started to beep slowly as it came online and started scribbling graphs on long paper. “What’s that?”
“It’s keeping track of her brain and heart activity,” Owens says, then turns to Brenner. “She’s rejecting it.”
“Give her time,” Brenner says calmly.
“We shouldn’t have just thrown her in like this. She’s going to drown in there.” The surveillance tape is paused.
“Is she seeing the same tape we are?” you ask him.
“Not exactly.” Owens turns back to you. “We’re watching the tape. She’s . . . she’s reliving it. But she’s rejecting the memory.” Before he can say more, someone comes into the room and pulls him out.
Go on to the next page.
Brenner turns on a microphone and speaks to Jane and plays operatic music. She can hear him, but she doesn’t seem awake. Brenner is telling Jane a story, but you recall Jane’s reaction to Brenner earlier. You have never seen someone so afraid. And why did Brenner keep calling her Eleven? You remember Will calling Jane El. Is it some sort of nickname?
“A memory,” the real Jane says, grabbing your attention.
“Very good.” Brenner nods.
“How?” she asks.
“Never mind how.” You wish Brenner answered her question, eager to know what he is doing to Jane and how.
Turn to the next page.
“Well, well, look who nally decided to join us.” The tape plays again, showing the man in white speaking in his soft voice. “Someone’s a sleepyhead this morning.”
“I’m sorry.” You hear both Jane in the tank and the younger Jane speak at the same time. “Am I . . . in trouble?” You can hardly believe what you are witnessing. You look over at the machines to see that their scribbling has slowed down. On the television a man opens the door to the room and walks in. It’s a younger Dr. Brenner. All of the kids immediately line up.
“Good morning, children.”
“Good morning, Papa,” they say in unison, along with the real Jane.
Hearing Jane’s voice with the kids on the screen is jarring. Is she remembering what she said? You wonder if, deep in the recesses of your own mind, everything you’ve once said is stored somewhere just out of your reach.
“Number Twelve, please get the door. Follow me, children,” the younger Brenner says. Were all the kids named numbers? Then the camera switches from inside the room to the hall just outside the door, where all the kids le out.
Owens comes back into the control room. “How’s she doing?”
Brenner watches the tank calmly. “Very well. She’s swimming now.”
“Good.” Owens stands next to him. “Because I just got off the phone with Stinson. We don’t have much time.”
“Well then, she’ll just have to swim faster.”
Go on to the next page.
You go up to Owens. “What do you mean, you don’t have much time? What’s going on?”
“It’s a long story, kid.”
“You have something better to do?” You can tell you’ve got him. He leads you out of the room and down the hall to another of ce.
“Have a seat.” He points to a chair as he closes the door and sits behind a desk. “What exactly do you know about Eleven?”
“Considering I just found out her name is Eleven, not much. I met Jane—I mean, Eleven—the day before I met you.” You lean back. “You’re stalling. What’s going on?”
“So you heard me say earlier that Eleven was powerful. But her powers are gone now. We’re trying to get them back.”
“Why?” Normally you would question the idea of a person having superpowers, but this lab wouldn’t be here if it was a hoax.
He shows you a picture of a girl in a cheerleading uniform. “A few days ago this girl in Hawkins, Indiana, was murdered. Her name was Chrissy Cunningham. Then a boy was killed in a similar way the next day. His name was Fred Benson.”
Turn to the next page.
You can’t believe it. “Wait, Fred is dead?”
“How do you know him?” Owens can’t hide his look of shock.
“I—I don’t. I mean, I’ve never met him in person. He was supposed to host me when I got to Hawkins for a student journalist conference I was going to attend.”
“I’m sorry you had to nd out this way.” Owens looks at you, concerned. “But you should be very glad you are not in Hawkins right now.”
“What do you mean?”
Owens pinches the bridge of his nose as he sighs. “Chrissy and Fred weren’t killed by—the—the usual ways. They were killed by someone with powers, powers like El used to have.”
“So you need her to get her powers to nd who killed them?”
“Not exactly.” Owens leans back, his chair squeaking beneath him. “We know who killed them, but Eleven doesn’t know it yet. She’s the only one who can beat him, but—”
“But she needs her powers to be able to do it.”
“That’s right. We don’t have much time. When Chrissy was killed, a gate opened.”
“A gate?”
“A gate between our world and one we call the Upside Down, another dimension where the killer is. We believe that he’s trying to open multiple gates, but we don’t know why and we can’t do anything about it without El.”
Go on to the next page.
Owens runs his hand over his head. “But that’s not the only reason we’re short on time.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are some in our government who think El is the danger, and they’re looking for her. Remember when I told you that if you didn’t come with us, you’d have to stay with the Byerses?” You nod. “Some government agents just attacked the Byerses’ house. Jonathan, Mike, and Will are missing, along with two of the agents we posted to protect them. We know the kids haven’t been captured, but other than that, we have no idea where they are. If they found the Byerses’ house, it’s only a matter of time before they nd us.”
“So Jane needs to get her powers and defeat this superpowered murderer before the government catches her?”
“I see you understand the dilemma we’re in.”
“So why show her some old memories? How does that help her get her powers back?”
“I have no idea. That would be Dr. Brenner’s area of expertise. If I could have done this without him, trust me, I would have.” It’s clear there’s no love lost between Owens and Brenner. Jane seemed terri ed of him too.
A woman bursts into the of ce. “Dr. Owens, we need you.”
Owens runs out the door, and you follow.
Turn to the next page.
In the control room, people are running about. The machine you saw earlier is scribbling frantically.
“What’s going on?” Owens looks at Brenner.
The woman answers, “She’s going into cardiac arrest.”
“Okay, that’s enough. Pull her out,” Owens says rmly. Brenner ignores Owens. “Pull her out!” The others in the room heed Owens’s command. The tank is opened and Jane is carried to a table. A doctor picks up a pair of de brillators.
“Clear!” She presses the paddles onto Jane’s chest and shocks her. There’s no response. “Again!” The second shock wakes her. She sputters and coughs, blood trailing down from her nose.
“It’s okay. It will take time to adjust,” Brenner says soothingly to Jane. “But you’re safe now.” Jane suddenly grabs one of the paddles and smashes it against Brenner’s face. She jumps off the table, then sprints down the hall. You chase after her. She’s heading to the elevator!
“Jane! Wait!” you call out. Three security guards cut you off and surround Jane. They grab her and push her down to her knees.
You try to pull one of the guards off Jane. She screams. An overhead light bursts in a cascade of sparks as you are thrown back. Your head hits something as chaos erupts around you.
If you try to help her, turn to page 22.
If you choose to stay out of the way, turn to page 23.
In the darkness and confusion you are carried into a small room. Slowly you get up, your head throbbing. You try to think back—the last thing you remember was . . . Jane used her powers! It worked! She had them back. You swing your legs over the side of the bed and feel cold metal hit your ankle. Looking down, you see a chain hooking your right foot to the bed. “Hello? Is anyone out there? Jane? Owens?”
“They can’t hear you.” A voice you recognize comes over a speaker.
“Dr. Brenner, where am I? Where’s Jane and Owens?”
“They are back in the other part of the lab, still working on the NINA Project, and in mourning.”
“Mourning?” Your spine prickles. “Did . . . did someone else in Hawkins die?”
“Oh, no, not Hawkins. Right here.” Brenner’s voice is eerily calm. “Poor Eleven didn’t mean to hurt her new friend, but her powers— she couldn’t control them. And now she thinks you’re dead. Eleven needs me now, to help her control her powers, to make sure this never happens again. She’s nally home with her papa. That means you’ll be staying here inde nitely.”
“You can’t do this!” you yell. “Aren’t you her father? Don’t you care about her?”
“I do care about her. I care about all my children.”
The End
Jane screams, and the room explodes! The lightbulbs burst, sparks fall from the ceiling, and the three guards fall back. Owens catches up to you and pulls you back.
“These are her powers?”
“Some of them,” he answers. “The more explosive ones.”
“She has more?” Just then Jane stands and turns toward you and Owens, the shock evident on her face.
“My—my powers . . .” She looks at her hands. You remember the look on her face when she screamed at Angela at school. Was this what she was trying to do?
“Now you see it is working. Come on, Eleven.” Brenner reaches out his hand. “Let’s go back. You need to see one more memory. The truth.”
“What I saw . . .” Jane hesitates. “The blood, so much blood. What if . . . what if I don’t want to remember?” There was no blood on the surveillance tape. What is she talking about?
“You must, Eleven,” Brenner says rmly. Jane takes Brenner’s hand and enters the tank once more. Brenner retrieves a videotape labeled September 8, 1979, puts it into the VCR, and presses play.
“Are you sure about this?” Owens asks Brenner.
“You wanted results,” Brenner says. The tension between them is palpable. Something has everyone in the room scared. When the tape plays, you see it. You glimpse a tattoo on the blond orderly’s wrist and realize he is actually One, Brenner’s rst psychic kid. He removes something from his neck and he regains his powers. Then he kills everyone until Jane stops him, reducing him to dust.
Turn to the next page.
