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Summary
Eddie looks out the window in time to watch the Welcome to Illinois! The Prairie State sign go by. His first time out of Indiana, and it’s to join the poor man’s witness protection program with a bunch of fucking vigilantes. Not that Eddie has anything against a little righteous violence, in theory, but despite, like, everything about him and everything about Hawkins and the way the two mixed like water and fucking sodium—boom! Instant hellfire—he’s never even thrown a punch in this dimension. He’s—well, okay, he’s not actually good at running, but he’s good at poking people until they snap and darting smoothly out of biting range, then icing his knees in the privacy of his home.
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Eddie needs to get the hell out of Hawkins. El knows a guy.