By: Kelly Kearney
After last week’s deadly cliffhanger, the second episode picks up right where we left off — in the aftermath of Teddy, Phil, and Susie’s murders. Only, that demon baby that tore those children to shreds didn’t leave a single trace behind of what really happened in that theater. In fact, the entire town believes all three kids simply vanished, and they’ve set their sights on Hank, the projectionist at the Capitol Theater, his traumatized daughter Ronnie, and the only other survivor from that night — “Looney” Lily Bainbridge.
This week the investigation into the disappearances — along with a shocking revelation about Major Hanlon’s attack on base — dives deep into the racial strife of the 1960s and the buried secrets beneath the town of Derry.
Truth Takes a Backseat to the Bigotry of the Times
After a quick recap of the theater massacre — including Phil’s (Jack Molloy Legault) assumption that Derry Air Force Base created the demon baby in one of their top-secret experiments— we’re shown, from every angle, how those three children were eviscerated by the beast seemingly controlled by Matty Clements (Miles Ekhardt). The scene is brutal and bloody, and one of only two survivors, Lily Bainbridge (Clara Stack), can’t get that night out of her head. It’s a carousel of trauma for her, but she’s not the only one haunted. For a moment, it seems Ronnie (Amanda Christine) also survived that hellish night — only to face an even bigger nightmare afterward. While Lily relives the horrors in her sleep, across town Ronnie and her father Hank (Stephen Rider) are under constant surveillance by local police.
Racial tensions are running high in Civil Rights–era America, and the cops sitting outside Hank’s mother, Louella’s (BJ Harrison) apartment — where he and Ronnie are hiding — don’t seem remotely interested in finding the truth. They already have a Black man they can pin it on and that seems to feed the angry racist minds of the locals. Their lazy investigation and blatant racism not only fuel their jokes about the children’s disappearance but push them to absurd speculation about where the bodies went. No blood, no remains — it’s as if those kids never existed. The disgusting suggestion that Hank might have eaten them earns laughter among the two officers, revealing how little they care about justice.
Inside the apartment, Hank is unraveling under the weight of the town’s suspicion. Louella told the police he was home that night watching TV — but her word means nothing to them. Not when they need a scapegoat.
With anger bubbling just beneath the surface of every encounter, Hank decides to keep Ronnie home from school, much to his mother’s frustration. She insists he send Ronnie back with her head held high since their family has nothing to hide. Keeping her locked away only feeds gossip and looks like guilt. Hank understands this but he is terrified. He already lost his wife — we later learn she died giving birth to Ronnie — and he’s not about to lose his daughter to some angry local looking for revenge. His mother refuses to let fear dictate their lives and demands Hank do right by his daughter and move on from the town’s ugly accusations.
Having only one parent left, Ronnie is terrified of losing her father to a false charge of murder. When she is caught eavesdropping, her father does his best to calm her nerves. He promises her that they’ll keep living their lives as if nothing’s wrong — just like innocent people do.
Mrs. Hanlon Arrives in Derry
Across town, at his new house, Major Leroy Hanlon (Jovan Adepo) sits on the front porch drinking a beer and reading the paper when his wife, Charlotte (Taylour Paige), pulls into the driveway with their son, Will (Blake Cameron James). Hank is as much a family man as he is a soldier, and he’s thrilled to finally have his wife join him in their off-base home in Derry. After greeting her with a warm hug — and dodging questions about the sore shoulder he’s been hiding since the attack on base — Mrs. Hanlon immediately notices two things: the house is much bigger than their previous one, and the staring eyes of the locals make her uneasy. When she asks if he’s sure they’ll be okay living off-base, Hank smiles and nods to a woman walking by with her dog — a woman who doesn’t bother to hide her disapproval. Major Hanlon simply says that if anyone has a problem with them living there, they can take it up with JFK himself. The president supported equal rights for all Americans, including Black families living in predominantly white towns.
After a hug and a strong handshake with his father, Will races upstairs to check out his new room and finds a telescope waiting by the window. It’s a “welcome home” gift from his dad, and the boy is instantly thrilled. Right away, we see the differences between the soldier and his son: Major Hanlon is a disciplined, masculine military hero, while Will is softer, more curious — drawn to science, space, and the mysteries beyond. Their differences don’t divide them, though; they shape how the major approaches his son. Will might not follow in his father’s masculine footsteps, but he’s deeply moved that his dad knows him well enough to give him something so thoughtful.
Of course, as a pilot, Major Hanlon often charts flight paths by measuring planetary distances, so it’s no surprise he hopes this small glimpse into the stars might spark Will’s interest in the Air Force. After a lighthearted joke about spying on the neighbors, Will quickly reveals his strong moral compass — saying he doesn’t think they should use his new telescope for that kind of thing.
Later that night, Charlotte and her husband talk about their son. Major Hanlon thanks her for suggesting the telescope. “At his age,” he says, “all I wanted was a baseball mitt.” But Charlotte smiles and reminds him that Will’s long past using baseballs as paperweights — it’s time he had something that truly speaks to who he is. Father and son may be different, but that same moral code — an instinct to do what’s right — clearly runs in their blood.
The following morning takes us to the local high school, where Marge (Matilda Lawler) steps off the bus and immediately spots the sign out front announcing a nightly curfew. Ever since the students went missing, the town’s been living in fear — but not Marge. She’s too busy trying to catch the attention of The Patty Cakes, the popular clique that rules the school.
Determined to squeeze her way into their orbit, Marge struts right up to the group, who are busy laughing about one of their own’s crush on a boy they all think isn’t worth the time. When Marge sees the girl becoming the butt of the joke, she jumps in — cracking her own line about how much of a loser the boy is. Her boldness upsets the girl who confessed the crush, but it earns Marge a spot at the table for lunch later.
Marge is a little over-the-top, a bit of a scene-stealer — something the clique’s queen bee notices instantly. So, later, at lunch, Marge’s ambition takes a hit when she spots her best friend Lily talking with returning student Ronnie. The whispers and side glances that follow divide Marge’s attention — torn between the new friends she’s desperate to impress and the one who’s always been there for her. She winds up making fun of Ronnie to score points with The Patty Cakes, but the more they laugh the more obnoxious she becomes. Patty (Maya McNair)–head of the clique, doesn’t like to share the spotlight and Marge is working overtime to shine.
Back to School
During their first-period class, Marge tries to talk to Lily and check in to see if she’s okay. Lily plays it off like she’s fine, but when Marge digs deeper and brings up Ronnie—and how it’s affecting both of their standings with the Patty Cakes — Lily can no longer play nice. She reminds Marge that their friends are dead, so the opinions of the Patty Cakes mean nothing to her. The bluntness shocks Marge, who stays quiet as class begins.
Their teacher, Miss Douglas (Deborah Tennant) , an older and strict woman, pauses when an out-of-breath Will barrels through the door. He’s late to his first class on his first day at a new school, but he has a good excuse. The building was unfamiliar, and he couldn’t find the room. Assuming the teacher might take pity on him proves to be a mistake. She does nothing but reprimand him, warning that if he’s late again, it will work against his final grade..
Will hangs his head and takes the nearest seat as whispers ripple through the room. Being the only Black student in class, he can feel the eyes of bigotry on him. Still, he remains stoic, a small smile on his face, eager to learn despite it all. One boy seems genuinely kind and interested in him, and Lily—an outcast herself—doesn’t join in the mockery either. But when Will goes to sit and the boy behind him yanks the chair away, sending him crashing to the floor, he realizes just how difficult life in Derry might be.
Back at the Air Force Base, Major Hanlon meets with Colonel Fuller (Thomas Mitchell) and crosses paths with Staff Sgt.Masters (Chad Rock), who’s just leaving Fuller’s office. Fuller informs Hanlon that Masters was behind the attack on the base—one of the masked men demanding information about the B-52 project. There’s no word on who the other assailants are, but Fuller is convinced Masters will break and name his cohorts. That seems to ease Hanlon’s mind—until Fuller mentions the weapon found in Masters’ barracks: a Makarov, a Russian-issued pistol. Hanlon knows that gun well, having used one in Korea. The revelation unsettles him, though we don’t yet know why. Not until later, when he visits the court-martialed airman accused of attacking him.
While her husband focuses on the investigation, Charlotte takes a stroll through her new hometown, getting a feel for the people and the lay of the land. Most stare at her like she doesn’t belong. A few offer polite smiles and greetings, and after buying a bouquet of flowers, she passes a group of locals protesting the new Paul Bunyan statue being erected downtown. When she wanders into the butcher shop to pick up something for dinner, she overhears one of Derry’s grand dames complaining to the butcher that she and her friends will not tolerate such an eyesore in the middle of town. The butcher, Stanley “Cleaver” Kersch (Larry Day), smiles and humors her, joking that they should just “let the pigeons sort it out.”
When Charlotte steps to the counter, Stanley assumes she’s just passing through—he’s lived in Derry a long time and knows every face. His slip of the tongue isn’t cruel, just the product of a small-town habit. Charlotte’s attention shifts when she hears a commotion outside, and sees three boys chasing another (Bentley Hughes), knocking him to the ground and beating on him. She asks Stanley why no one’s doing anything, but he just shrugs—“boys will be boys.” That doesn’t sit right with her. Leaving her roast behind, Charlotte rushes outside and pulls one of the boys (Tom Hulshof) off, ordering him to stop. The boy steps toward her, eyes hard, and she feels a flicker of unease. When she looks around, the townspeople are all watching. The bullied boy seizes the moment and runs, as the other three chase after him. All Charlotte’s intervention seems to have done is draw attention to herself—she didn’t stop the violence, only interrupted it.
That night, she turns the incident into a lesson for Will. “Boys will be boys” doesn’t fly with her. Boys should be decent and kind—and her boy will be both. It’s clear where Will gets his moral center: his father, a patriot and hero; and his mother, determined to raise her son with compassion and curiosity.
She shifts the subject, saying boys aren’t just measured by integrity—they’re measured by their mamas, too. She pulls Will up from the table, placing him against the doorframe, and uses a book to mark his height. After making the first dash on his growth chart, she tells her husband, Leroy, that someone ought to do something about those “packs of rabid dogs” fighting in the streets. She even says she has half a mind to talk to their parents. Will quickly begs her not to. That catches her attention, as she wonders if he’s been bullied too. Will assures her that nothing happened at school, though he doesn’t mention the chair incident or the teacher’s harshness. He knows his mother’s fiery nature could make things harder for him.
As the dinner conversation continues, Leroy stays mostly quiet, letting Charlotte lead the parenting. When she won’t drop the issue, he finally steps in, agreeing with Will that she should leave it alone. He vaguely mentions “what happened in Shreveport” as a reason to avoid stirring up attention. That sparks an argument, prompting Will to excuse himself–the tension makes him uncomfortable. His parents insist they’re just talking, but it’s clear something deeper is simmering. Upstairs, Will can still hear them fighting—Leroy brings up Shreveport again, and Charlotte makes it clear she blames the move to Derry on him. Leroy reminds her that he wasn’t the one who provoked the bricks being thrown through their windows. Their argument only adds to his bad day, but he can’t tell her the full truth—his work and the attack remain classified. From her reaction, it’s obvious that secrecy has already driven a wedge between them, one that’s only going to grow wider when later, he gets a new assignment.
Look At The Mess You’ve Made
In another part of town we check in with Hank, Ronnie and Louella. She’s furious about the police harassing them day and night. They’re convinced Hank had something to do with the disappearance of the children—and no matter how solid his alibi is, or how little reason he has to hurt those kids, the cops won’t let up.
While Ronnie tries to sleep, she overhears them arguing. The shouting feeds into one of her deepest fears—losing the only parent she has left. She rolls over and stares at a picture of her mother (Tenika Davis) on her wedding day, a small but painful reminder of how terrified she truly is. Trying to block out the sound, she buries her head under the covers, squeezing her eyes shut and taking deep breaths—until she hears heavy thumping.
Her eyes snap open, and as she tries to pull the sheets away, she can’t escape them– they seem endless. She thrashes and pulls, yet the fabric keeps going, until it turns slick—like skin. She’s trapped inside something alive! She claws at the fleshy walls around her as the space begins to fill with fluid. She’s drowning in some thick, viscous goo—screaming underwater, and pounding to escape. When she finally tears through the membrane, she’s expelled in a flood of fluid, gasping and slick with afterbirth. Ronnie has just burst from her mother’s womb.
Across the room, her dead mother sits in a rocking chair, a gaping hole in her abdomen where Ronnie emerged. The ghastly figure mocks her daughter for “ripping her open a second time.” Apparently, Ronnie tore her mother so badly during birth that it led to her death—and now she’s done it again.
Her mother’s voice grows guttural and cruel as she hisses the truth: not only did Ronnie kill her, but she’ll kill her father too—just like she killed those kids. The accusation pierces through Ronnie, who screams in terror as the still-attached umbilical cord begins to pull her backward, toward the gaping, tooth-lined wound. In one of Derry’s most grotesque nightmares yet, Ronnie is forced to chew through her own umbilical cord to free herself before her mother’s monstrous birth canal devours her whole.
When she finally breaks free, she cowers in the corner, sobbing and trembling. Her mother, now spider-like, detaches from the chair, shrieking, “Look at the mess you’ve made!” before lunging at her daughter. Ronnie screams for help—until the door bursts open and her father rushes in. He finds her alone, shaking and hysterical, not drenched in afterbirth but in tears and terror.
Across town three Black airmen, Reggie (Shane Marriott), Loverboy Jax (Dorian Grey) and Dick Hallorann (Chris Chalk) sit at a bar, taking a night off to drink and commiserate about the ongoing investigation and the attack on Major Hanlon. Once again, race plays its part. Two of the men were interrogated for hours—despite having no ties to the assault, no motive, and no evidence against them. Of course, they were the first to fall under military suspicion. The third man, Hallorann, the one who works closely with General Shaw (James Remar) and seems to have some inside knowledge about the secret project, wasn’t questioned at all. His connections—and his privilege—probably gave him cover.
When the local police chief Clint Bowers (Peter Outerbridge) walks into the bar, the atmosphere shifts. The barflies swarm him immediately, demanding to know when he’s going to arrest Hank. They insist the whole town knows he’s guilty, yet instead of doing his job, the chief is “off the clock,” having a drink. The problem is, there’s no evidence. Hank’s alibi checks out. The chief reminds them that this is still America, but the angry men fire back—“This isn’t America. This is Derry.” When they warn him that if he doesn’t deliver what the people want, he won’t be sheriff much longer, the pressure to satisfy Derry’s thirst for blame outweighs his duty to seek the truth.
With the air thick from smoke, booze, and barely veiled racism, the bartender approaches the table of the three airmen. He doesn’t bother to hide his intent: they’re not welcome. They gather their things and leave, one of them muttering that Hallorann knows a place where they can drink in peace—as long as they can handle the moonshine.
Special Privileges
It seems the soldiers are no match for the homemade alcohol, because we find them stumbling drunk and practically carrying each other back to Derry Air Force Base. When they reach the front gates, the guard on duty (Adam Langton) stops them—informing them the base is on lockdown and no one has permission to leave.
They insist they did have permission, but once again, they’re met with white suspicion. The guard says he’ll have to call their superiors to confirm their story, already assuming they’re lying and about to face a court-martial. When Hallorann’s name is mentioned—along with that “super-secret spy mission” he’s working on—the situation changes. His clearance carries weight, and those privileges extend to his friends. Smirking, the soldiers saunter past the guard and back onto the base. As they cross a crack in the pavement, one of the men, Reggie, asks Hallorann what exactly he does that earns him such special treatment. Hallorann just laughs. As night fades to dawn, the camera lingers on that same crack—now widened into a massive dig site. The military is unearthing something buried deep beneath Derry’s soil. For a top-secret project, the rumble of machinery, helicopters, and men sifting through the dirt is deafening. Yet somehow, the townspeople sleep right through it. Everyone, that is, except for the local kids—and the Native families who’ve lived on that land for generations, all seem clueless to what the military is up to. The secrecy of it all seems almost impossible. Phil—the same boy from Episode 1 who watched the base’s cargo planes landing and wondered what the military was really up to—might have been onto something. Whatever they’re looking for under Derry, it’s no ordinary operation.
Next, we learn why Hallorann is such a critical part of this project. Colonel Fuller finds him the next morning, hungover and slumped in the crow’s nest overlooking the dig. He demands to know why Hallorann has his men digging through dirt based on nothing but his “feeling.” Whatever special gifts Hallorann has, they haven’t produced results, and Fuller’s patience is running thin. “We’re close,” Hallorann insists. “I can feel it.”
Back at school Lily avoids Marge and the Patty Cakes table, choosing to sit alone. Her best friend can’t understand why she wouldn’t at least try to stay in with the popular crowd. But Lily has bigger things on her mind—like Ronnie. They share a trauma that’s made them both outcasts, and it makes sense they’d stick together. Unfortunately, those optics don’t fit into Marge’s plans to win back their social standing.
When Ronnie approaches, the Patty Cakes sneer, calling her Hatchet Hank’s kid. She ignores them and sits with Lily, confiding what happened the night before. Lily is stunned—It came back. Not as shocked as Ronnie is when Lily admits she didn’t tell the police what she saw. Lily explains that she told the cops Hank wasn’t at the Capitol Theater that night—but she couldn’t very well tell them that a demon baby flew out of the movie screen and killed the children. After her time in the Juniper Hill mental hospital, “Looney Lily Bainbridge” doesn’t exactly have credibility. She said what she had to: that she didn’t really know what happened, only that Hank wasn’t there. That confession rattles Ronnie. It feeds her fear that her father will take the fall—just like the demon told her he would. “He’ll fry for it,” the voice whispered and now she is terrified the voice was right.
She begs Lily to tell the truth, hoping it’ll push the police to look deeper into the children’s deaths. As much as losing her father is Ronnie’s biggest fear, returning to Juniper Hill is Lily’s. The two argue—fear and guilt building between them—as the Patty Cakes pound on the lunch table behind them, playing some childish rhythm game. The sound grates on their nerves until it becomes unbearable and Lily snaps. “Your dad will be fine!” she promises. Ronnie leaps to her feet and screams profanities knowing Lily can’t possibly believe what she is saying.
The cursing catches a teacher’s attention, and before Ronnie can defend herself, she’s dragged out of the cafeteria. Lily storms off in embarrassment. Looney Lily and Hatchet Hank’s daughter—Derry’s new pariahs.
While all this chaos unfolds in the lunchroom, the camera cuts to the hallway. Will sits on the floor beside a shy girl, watching as she kisses a note and slips it into a boy’s locker. Nearby, another student—Rich (Arian S. Cartaya), the drum major from Will’s first class—grins and tells him he can’t sit there, the seat’s “reserved.” He’s only teasing. The two strike up a friendly conversation that gets interrupted when Marge and the Patty Cakes strut past. The sound of music swells—Rich’s crush forming right before our eyes as he watches Marge, her glasses catching the romantic light.
Love takes a backseat to chaos when another student rolls a stink bomb down the hallway. Rich and Will sprint for cover, but Will collides headfirst into Miss Douglas, who tumbles to the ground in outrage.
Cut to detention, and we find Will sitting across from Ronnie—she for cursing, him for knocking over his teacher. The two outsiders were caught in Derry’s web, both paying the price for things that weren’t really their fault.
Stardust And Juniper Hill
Meanwhile, Will’s mother is downtown shopping when she spots the secondhand store where her husband bought the telescope. On a whim, she decides to go inside and thank the owner, Rose (Kimberly Guerrero) for the kind gift. Right away, the two women hit it off. Rose doesn’t look or act like the rest of the locals, and that small sense of difference creates a quick camaraderie between them. Charlotte mentions she’s looking for things to decorate their new home with, and though the shopkeeper usually closes for lunch, she decides to keep the shop open so Charlotte can browse in peace.
As they talk, Rose casually asks if Charlotte has a child. When Will’s name comes up, the woman smiles—but there’s tension behind it, like she’s forcing herself to keep that polite expression when she’s really fighting the urge to say more. As we know, the children in Derry go missing, haunted by an evil whose origins we still don’t fully understand… yet.
Back in detention Will still stinks from the bomb and Ronnie does her best to avoid him while pacing the classroom. She teases him for being a science nerd, doing extra work that wasn’t even assigned to them. Will surprises her by explaining the science behind the smell – that the chemicals in his stink bomb are the same found on the rings of Jupiter and Venus. So, maybe he does smell bad… but also, maybe he is “covered in stardust.”
It’s dorky but disarming, and it lands, putting a smile on Ronnie, the rebellious wild card’s face. She finds herself drawn to the good-mannered bookworm, and something like friendship begins to take root between them. Their light moment is quickly cut short when they spot police cars pulling up outside the classroom window. Officers are dragging Lily Bainbridge away in a squad car, and this makes Ronnie nervous. Will asks if Ronnie knows her, but Ronnie just stares, silent, rage brewing beneath the surface.
Down at the station, Chief Bowers questions Lily again. He admits there’s still no evidence linking Hank to the disappearances, but insists she might change that. At first, the questions are the same as before—until he brings up Juniper Hill, and his tone shifts from curious to threatening. He warns Lily that if she can’t place Hank at the theater, the townspeople will turn on her instead. The only survivor of the incident, already branded unstable, she’d be right back in Juniper Hill before she knew it.
Cornered and terrified, Lily gives in. She edits her original statement, saying she can’t be sure Hank wasn’t there after all. It’s the lie the Chief needed in order to unleash the mob. Hours later the police storm Hank’s house, dragging him off in cuffs while Ronnie screams for them to stop. Her worst nightmare has come true—and she knows exactly who’s to blame: Matty Clements, that demon child, and Lily Bainbridge.
Furious, Ronnie races to Lily’s house, pounding on the front door, demanding to know what she told the chief. Lily tearfully admits she was tricked, and that she didn’t know what else to do. Before Ronnie can respond, Lily’s mother (Alixandra Fuchs) slams the door in her face, but Ronnie won’t be turned away. She runs to the front of the house, shouting at the top of her lungs, “What did you do, Lily Bainbridge?”
The next day, Major Hanlon finally gets the answers he’s been hunting for. He visits Airman Masters—now locked up, awaiting court-martial for his supposed role in the attack. Hanlon brings with him a Russian pistol and tells a story about using one during the Korean War. “Terrible weapon,” he says. “Anyone who isn’t familiar with it can’t even load the chamber right.”
He slides the gun across the table, and when Masters fumbles with it, Hanlon knows—this man isn’t the shooter. He’s just taking the fall for someone higher up. When Hanlon brings his findings to General Shaw, Shaw admits the shocking truth: the attack on Hanlon was a test, orchestrated to prove that after his brain injury he was still sharp, still the hero he once was. Shaw needs a soldier with a nimble mind and an unwavering bravery—and Hanlon just passed with flying colors.
Later, in a crowded grocery store, Lily shops for her mother. The stares and whispers of the locals follow her down every aisle, their eyes heavy with accusation. The walls seem to close in until she finds herself trapped in a narrowing aisle lined entirely with Pennywise Corn Flakes – boxes covered with the smiling and rotting faces of Matty, Susie (Matilda Legault), Phil and Teddy (Mikkal Karim Fidler).
Panicked, Lily turns, only to find herself surrounded by jars of pickles. Inside one, she sees her father’s (Liam Seamus Murphy) decapitated head floating in brine, whispering for her to “give Daddy a kiss.” Horrified, she smashes the jar to the floor—but as the glass shatters, more jars begin to burst open, releasing severed limbs that crawl across the tiles and knit themselves together into a grotesque, glistening mass of flesh. A slick tentacle coils around her neck, pulling her down as the monstrous body gurgles out grotesque, syrupy declarations of love. She thrashes, screaming, “Leave me alone!”—until suddenly, a voice cuts through it.
“Lily Bainbridge!”
She looks up to see Mr. Janko (Victor Ertmanis), the shopkeeper, standing over her. The store is perfectly normal. No monsters. No blood. Just a single broken pickle jar at her feet – and the scent of vinegar and fear sharp in the air.
Operation Precept
After Hanlon passes the test, General Shaw escorts him through the high-security gates that lead to a classified section of the Derry Air Force Base. It’s here Hanlon learns why Shaw was so intent on proving his intelligence and fortitude.
Behind those gates lies a top-secret Department of Defense project—one designed to win the Cold War before the first missile is ever launched. Inside the sprawling compound are war rooms, labs, and bunkers filled with scientists and soldiers all working toward one goal; They’re not building a weapon, they’re looking for one.
According to Shaw, the military has learned of a mysterious entity—something ancient, possibly sentient—that feeds on human fear. It doesn’t just terrify its victims; it kills them, draining their life through sheer terror. The belief is that if they can locate and harness this force, they could wield fear itself as a weapon against America’s enemies.
Shaw explains that the entity’s energy can be traced through “beacons,” points that pulse with faint disturbances scattered around Derry. If they can triangulate those signals, they can pinpoint the entity’s location and capture it. With tensions rising after the Bay of Pigs and the rumor of Soviet missiles just off the U.S. coast, Shaw insists this “fear weapon” could give America the ultimate edge in the Cold War. He tells Hanlon he needs him on the front lines of the operation. A man who’s faced death, who’s fought in Korea and lived through his own trauma, is the kind of soldier who might survive contact with this thing. Hanlon doesn’t hesitate—he’s not the kind of man to turn his back on his country.
Before he can respond, Fuller rushes in, rain slick on his uniform, with Hallorann just behind him. “Sir,” he says, breathless, “they found something at the dig site.”
Shaw’s expression hardens. Within minutes, he and Hanlon are in a Jeep, tires cutting through the mud as they race toward the excavation site on the edge of town.
Meanwhile, across Derry a car winds its way down the rain-slick road toward Juniper Hill Asylum. Inside, Lily Bainbridge sits, silent and pale, while her mother drives. When they arrive her mother barely offers a goodbye. The orderlies waiting at the gate greet Lily with smiles that feel like sneers. The door locks behind her and whatever fragile hope she had of escaping Derry dies right there.
Returning to the dig site Shaw, Hanlon, Hallorann, and Fuller arrive under a heavy downpour. Floodlights cut through the mist, illuminating a pit where crews have been excavating all day. They climb up to the Crow’s Nest to get an aerial view of what’s been unearthed—and that’s when they see it. Deep beneath the mud and rain, the team has pulled an old car from the earth. When they pry open the doors, a family of corpses spills out, bloated and pale, long buried beneath the Derry soil. It looks to be the same car that picked up Matty Clements. At least now they’ve found what’s left of them, but what does that mean for Hank – the accused and sitting in jail for a crime he didn’t commit? Chief Bowers will have plenty of explaining to do, but considering the attitudes of the locals, guilt or not, they want Hank to pay.