Murray

The cheap neon sign of the Wayside Motel blared obsessively outside the window, bathing the small room in a dirty pink light. Murray sat on the edge of his bed, cleaning his revolver—a habit that helped him calm his shaking hands after the hell he'd endured in Hawkins. Alexei, pale but already recovering, reclined on the next bed. The wound on his side was tightly bandaged, and on the nightstand stood a mountain of comic books, bought at a gas station by Murray "just to keep this child in a grown man's body from going crazy with boredom. "

Bauman looked at Alexey. The boy was leafing through the brightly colored Batman pages, his lips moving and trying to decipher the English words. It was strange to realize that this man was one of the smartest physicists in the USSR, who had a hand in opening the portal to the inside out. Right now, he seemed the most defenseless creature on earth.

• ...turn the page, you've been looking at it for five minutes already.
  Murray muttered in English, knowing that he wouldn't understand, but just to break the silence.