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little_pieces_of_timeFrom here.
It was both wonderful and difficult to see Joyce again, when she came by with coffee. Chloe's mother hadn't changed a bit. Maybe her blonde hair was a bit paler and wispier than it had been, and there were oh-so-faint lines at the corners of her eyes that hadn't been there five years ago, but she was still wry and cheerful and one of Max's favorite people. The only real change, as they conversed, was how she spoke about Chloe. Like a familiar chord with a wrong note, it felt very much to Max that Joyce had given up on her daughter. It hurt. It hurt more to try and defend Chloe against David's aggression and be met with Joyce defending him, saying that he had paid his dues in the war. Like that was somehow justification for yelling at and belittling - and hitting, in that other, quickly-jettisoned timeline - his step-daughter.
It hurt, too, to remember just how quickly Joyce had brought David into the Price household after William had died. A couple of months, and Joyce seemed to have moved on without any issue, and had no patience or understanding for her then-thirteen year old daughter's inability to shed her own grief as quickly. William had always been Chloe's favorite person in the world, and Max had always looked up to Joyce, but hearing how she spoke about Chloe now - even though Max knew how much of a handful Chloe had been making of herself - really hurt Max's perception of her. After Joyce turned the conversation to breakfast, Max was relieved when she went away to deliver Max's order to the kitchen.
Max turned and looked out the window at the town, watching the traffic filtering through the swaying stoplight and the people walking by, and sipped her black coffee. Hot diner coffee, black and bold, a memory likewise refreshed and thankfully found to not have changed a bit. The feeling of nostalgia was so strong, watching the town. She felt suspended in time, almost. Nowhere to be, for now, no demands on her time. Just hot coffee, the familiar smells and background clamor of the diner, her hometown, the lighthouse's comforting presence keeping watch from on-high, and the promise of a Two Whales' Belgian waffle to come.
This is like fourth-dimensional deja vu. I keep going back in time.
She sighed, watching the light at the top of the light house spin its slow, endless circle.
The lighthouse always looks so mysterious. I... I kind of wish I could stay in this moment forever.
Max smiled into her coffee, briefly. I guess I actually could, now.
But... then it wouldn't be a moment.
The sight of Joyce bringing her waffle - and the just-as-serendipitous arrival of Chloe to the diner - brought Max out of her reverie and brought a smile to her face.
Chloe grinned, seeing them. "Aha! Mom and Max, together again!"
"And Chloe, looking or a free meal," Joyce replied, dry. "You've put your whole damn college fund on your tab."
Max, kind of reeling at the idea of running a tab on one's daughter, interjected. "I'm treating Chloe for breakfast today."
"Atoning for yesterday's transgressions?" asked Joyce.
"Oh my god, Mom, don't give her shit about that," Chloe protested, especially guilty since Max had taken the blame for Chloe's weed. "She's too old to be lectured by you or Sergeant Pepper."
"Call him David if you don't want to be lectured, Chloe. You only get one damn slice of bacon today," Joyce replied, turning away to head back to the kitchen.
Max looked at Chloe. "...Is that... normal now?"
Chloe rolled her eyes, her good mood dented but unrelenting. "Just another reason to blow this shithole town. But enough about that. We have got to talk about your super power."
Max didn't know where to start. "I don't have any explanation... And I can't explain why I saw that crazy fucking tornado."
Chloe waved that away, leaning close. "Come on, that's just a daydream. I want proof you can rewind time."
Ultimately, it wasn't too difficult to convince her. There were some hiccups, though. When Max tried to tell her everything in her pockets, Chloe wanted details Max hadn't paid attention to, and she had to go back and try again. The second time around she made sure to count the change in Chloe's pocket, count the cigarettes and read the whole parking ticket. All that would've been enough to convince Max, but apparently Chloe wanted more.
So Max thought for a moment, and then told Chloe she would predict everything that would happen in the next thirty seconds. All she needed to do then was to wait for thirty seconds to pass, then pull herself backwards in a rewind, and tell Chloe everything that would happen - the trucker would drop his mug, the cop would get a call on his radio and be left behind by his partner, Justin and Trevor would fight and Joyce would break it up, and the ancient jukebox would go haywire.
And then all of that happened. And Max was left with a faint headache and Chloe's direct, wide-eyed stare in front of her. The weight of her attention felt a little like being attacked, and Max had to duck her head to avoid it. But the next moment, Chloe was grabbing her hands and bowing her head, saying reverentially, "I pledge allegiance to Max, and the power for which she stands..."
Max was flustered, shaking her head - which she stopped, because it made the room kind of spin. "Stop that. This isn't a toy, Chloe. I have to be careful-"
Chloe was absolutely gleeful. "Screw that! Of course it's a toy! The best toy ever! You could bang anyone with no strings attached, rewind time, and boom, it's like it never happened!"
Though Max was glad to see her in a good mood again, she rolled her eyes. "Grow up."
Chloe leaned close, lowering her voice into a conspiratory whisper. "Maybe you made a move on me and I would never know!"
"Yeeeesss," Max replied, matching her tone and grin. "That's exactly what I did."
Chloe laughed. "You can rewind time, Max. That's fucking insane. We have to play!"
"Chloe, I don't have the time." She does have class later, and doesn't want to feel so run-down so early in the day. She had just had breakfast and already she felt a bit tired.
"You did not just say that," Chloe chuckled at the irony, then paused, concerned. "Uh, Max. Check out your nose. Too much blow? You okay?"
Max touched her upper lip, feeling wetness there, and found her nose was bleeding. "Uh, too much excitement too early in the day, I guess. See what happens when we hook up again?"
Thankfully it wasn't much blood. Max was able to wipe it away with napkin - and stuff the napkin in her pocket so as not to worry Joyce if she saw it.
Chloe got up, pulling Max out of the booth after her. "If you're all right, then let's go to one of my secret lairs and fully test your power. You superheroes need a sidekick to guide you."
Max gave in, grinning wryly. "Okay, Girl Wonder... Show me the way to Chloe's Cave."
As they approached the door of the diner, Max's phone rang. Chloe insisted she ignore it - they were on their way to play. But Max could see it was Kate, and - despite Chloe's protests ("You don't call me once in five years and now you're all over some beeyatch you see every day at school? I see how it is.") - Max didn't want to leave her hanging. Not with everything going on.
Even though the delay did lead to an argument between Chloe and Joyce, Max was still glad she answered. Kate wasn't in a good place emotionally, and needed reassurance that Max was there for her and would support her. The way Kate's voice shook make Max's stomach hurt. She said she had talked to the police, and had obviously been crying. But Max could feel Chloe's stare and didn't want the conversation to go on too long, so ended it with a promise that they'd talk again soon.
"Thaaaaaaanks, Maaaaax," Chloe remarked in that slow, angry tone she seemed to have adopted in the last five years. "If you'd rather chill with Kate, please, go ahead."
Max looked at her, torn between the very legitimate complaints Chloe had about the reliability of Max's friendship, and Kate's specific and very wretched circumstances. "You are being ridiculous, and jealousy isn't a good look. I'm chilling with you, okay?"
"Sure," Chloe replied, already heading to the door. "For now. Let's rock."
~*~*~*~
Max didn't know what she had expected from Chloe's lair, but the local junkyard wasn't it. As they got out of Chloe's truck, a log-laden train was hurrying on its way along the rail tracks through the woods, not far away. Max hated the thought, but Chloe's rusted and beaten-up truck didn't look at all out of place here.
Chloe had gotten a bottle of beer from her truck as she had gotten out, and opened it before spreading her arms wide. "Welcome to American Rust, my home away from hell."
Max followed her through the junkyard gates, smiling slightly. "Raw and rough. It suits you."
She wasn't sure she would ever get used to this new Chloe's mercurial moods. It seemed as though Chloe had forgiven Max for her phone call with Kate, because Chloe turned to her grinning and almost bouncy with excitement. "Max, do you know how awesome this is? I get my best friend back, and she's also supersized?"
"We don't know for how long," Max reminded her.
Chloe didn't exactly dismiss Max's concerned, but her enthusiasm was undimmed. "Exactly! That's exactly why it's time to have fun"
Max couldn't help the reactive recoil when Chloe pulled out the gun. "Are you kidding?" she said, without much hope, "After yesterday, I'm kind of over guns, Chloe. It freaks me out that you have that."
Chloe posed with it. "Don't you trust me?"
Max shook her head. "I trust you, but I don't trust that gun."
"Don't be scared of my little toy, Max. You have more power than an army. Besides, we need it for the test... Drink?" she offered Max the bottle.
Max made a face. "Yuck."
Chloe laughed. "You are so cute. You haven't changed a bit. Okay, let's do this. Can you find six bottles while I prep the shooting range?"
"Beer and guns? Nice combo, Tex."
"You'll live. Now go hunting," Chloe grinned, shooing her away with the half-full bottle.
Max would've thought there would be no shortage of empty bottles at the local junkyard, but the search wasn't an easy one. Apparently, the various student parties that were held around the firepit on the edge of the place were very thorough about smashing up the evidence. Max was gingerly looking through the detritus in hopes of finding an unbroken bottle, when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She was being watched.
The doe was at the very edge of the junkyard, where the roughly churned and trash-strewn earth of the junkyard began to ease into the patchy grass and undisturbed leaf litter of the forest beyond. She was so calm, watching Max as Max watched her, her brown fur made pale by the bright morning sunlight.
Wowser, that looks exactly like the same doe from my tornado vision... That doe is the perfect photo op...
Max, trying not to spook the doe, slowly reached into her bag without looking to pull out her camera. She thankfully didn't need flash here in the bright morning, but at the click of the shutter and whir of the camera's roller the doe shifted with the first sign of unease, and turned to retreat into the depths of the trees. Max watched her disappear among the tall firs, gave the photo a little shake and set it among its fellows in her bag before going back to the bottle-hunt.
As she continued her search, Max encountered some sort of half-built shed near the center of the junkyard, which she almost didn't dare enter. It looked so creepy. But... the graffiti by the door looked so very like Chloe's handwriting. Inside, Max realized with a faint jolt that this must have been Chloe and Rachel's hideout. There was art and graffiti adorning the walls, posters depicting famous locations in Los Angeles, flyers for Vortex Club parties from the previous spring, a dartboard with scores written onto the wall beneath, the ruins of a truly regrettable couch, and a make-up kit that looked far more elaborate than anything Chloe had ever worn.
To the side of the couch was a stack of personal mix CDs Rachel had made Chloe and Chloe had made Rachel, with... matching handmade bracelets, one adorned with a silver R, and the other with a silver C. Max couldn't help but think of the Pirate Songs mix CD she had made for Chloe when they were twelve, or the Best Friends paired heart necklaces they had gotten at the mall. That was practically another life. She didn't even know if she still had the necklace with her half of the heart. Some friend she was.
And on the walls around her there were so many photos, golden hour splashes at the beach, photo-booth reels of photographs of Chloe and Rachel together. Chloe with her blue hair but smiling, Rachel beaming at the camera... They looked so happy together.
There was a pile of old pizza boxes and beer bottles in the corner - just trash, but perfect for finding the bottles Max was seeking. And - her curiosity got the better of her - a crumpled up piece of paper, looking like it was hastily stashed amid the garbage. Max uncrumpled it, smoothing it as best she could, and felt the sudden lurch at seeing the unfamiliar but beautiful handwriting. It had to be Rachel's note. For Chloe, it looked like. A note that wasn't ever delivered - or finished, to judge by the hurriedly scribbled-out lines at the bottom. Max was torn between her own curiosity and the urge to hide the note back into the pile of trash.
C.
You can tell how much I want to give you this letter, since I've been dragging my ass to give it to you. Maybe I just want you to find it when I'm not around, so we never have to talk about it. I don't want you to hate me. I met somebody recently...
No, that was too much for right now. She needed to get back to Chloe. As she stuffed the crumpled paper into her bag, Max reasoned that Chloe clearly hadn't found the letter and didn't know it existed. Max could show her later, when the time was right. She increasingly felt like she was trespassing and wanted to leave. With the letter secreted in her bag and the empty bottles in her arms, Max turned back towards the door. But she saw another piece of graffiti beside it which made her pause. Two runaways had wanted to leave their mark.
Chloe was here.
Rachel was here.
Max felt the urge tighten her chest, and hated it immediately, the strong urge to add Max was here to the list. She was here too, right? She mattered too. But... she had to tell herself, this place was for Chloe and Rachel, not Chloe and Max. It really would be trespassing, then. It was literally not her place. This place had nothing to do with Chloe and her friendship, and she... shouldn't impose herself onto it... even if it meant feeling left out.
Max brought the bottles back to Chloe, who was oblivious to Max's pensive mood. She hopped up to line up the bottles on a makeshift shelf she had made. The shelf was just a wooden board she had set across the tops of giant metal barrels set on their ends, in front of a pile of ruined vehicles, but it did the job.
Max looked at her as Chloe stepped back, brandishing the pistol.
"You're serious about this?" Max just wanted to check.
"You bet your ass," Chloe grinned toothily, sighting along the barrel at the first bottle. "We're going to shoot all these bottles without wasting a single bullet. Max, you have to help me aim. Show me the way, Max."
Max couldn't exactly tell how good Chloe's aim was, so she said. "No, I need to see you shoot first."
Chloe fired and missed. The impact to the board was clear, though. Max quickly rewound, drawing herself back a few seconds.
"-aim. Show me the way, Max."
"Aim slightly up from where you're aiming."
"Right between the eyes..." Chloe shot again, hitting the bottle. The satisfying way it shattered wasn't wholly lost on Max, who smiled at Chloe's triumphant cheer.
And so they continued: Chloe shooting, Max seeing how her aim was off, and rewinding quickly to correct it. Each time the gun rang out, the sound mingling with the shattering of glass.
Chloe was in high spirits. "Yeah! You better watch out, Nathan! Now, that is fun. Find me another target, Max. I want to get creative here..."
Max wasn't sure of where to point her, but the barrels were right there. "Let's see you take a crack at that rusty barrel."
"Sorry, Mr. Barrel," Chloe intoned mock-grimly, "your time has come."
She hit the barrel easily, the bullet audibly ricocheting multiple times among its nearby fellows.
"Woo!" Chloe crowed. "Listen to those phat bullet beats! What next, Max?"
Max grinned, watching Chloe's cheering. "Um... Let's take out that wheel rim on your left!"
"Yeah - watch out, wheel rim!" Chloe shoots the wheel rim dead-on. The thrilling sound of the ricochet was highlighted by the shattering of the next bottle in the line.
"HELLA YES!" Chloe cried, jumping up in surprised joy. "Did you see that, Max???"
"Nice shootin', Tex!" Max laughed.
"Now that's what I'm talking about! Okay Max, we need one more ubercool trick shot to finish off that last poor bottle."
Max had been eyeing the truck at the top of the heap behind their makeshift shooting gallery. "How about using that junker as a target?"
"Oooh, but where?" Chloe was ready.
"Let's try the windshield!" The vehicle was at an angle from them, so it wouldn't be too easy of a shot, Max thought.
"Watch out for flying debris, windshield!" Chloe shot, and the two girls could see the bullet go straight through the right side of the windshield and straight through the window beyond, shattering both spectacularly.
"That was great, but... I do want to take care of this last bottle, Max." Chloe gave her a mock-pleading look. "Without wasting a bullet..."
"Sure sure," Max smiled at her, and lifted her hand to rewind. A few seconds was practically easy, though she could tell she shouldn't keep rewinding again and again too much longer. She rewound, seeing Chloe once again looking to her for a proper target.
"Oh that bumper isn't nearly dented enough, Chloe," Max grinned at her, pointing it out.
"You know you're right. It's practically too good for a place like this," Chloe laughed back, and went to aim. "Goodbye, cruel bumper..."
She shot the bumper squarely, the bullet ricocheting again, and Max didn't at first notice the movement beside her. But when she looked, Chloe was staggering backwards, falling backwards, her hands pressing themselves to the spreading red stain upon her white shirt.
"Chloe!" Max ran to her, stumbling, suddenly cold. The red wound in Chloe's chest was far too like that left by Nathan's gun in the girls' bathroom yesterday.
"B-back up! Back up!" Chloe gasped, voice wet. There was bright blood beginning to dribble freely from her mouth. She stared at Max desperately, grasping at her hands in panic. "M-M-Max! Max! Backup!"
Nonononono. Max could feel panic rising in her throat. She could fix this! She had to! But she had to act quickly, or she wouldn't be able to focus. It hurt, having to pull her hands from Chloe's weakening grasp, so she could stand up. And she didn't like how difficult it was to drag herself back through the past few seconds. The flow of time kept wanting to pull her along with it. But she fought through the reversed sounds of Chloe's pain and panic, back past the ringing crack of the gunshot. And then Chloe was there beside her, her panic- and pain-paled pleading replaced with the grinning mock-pleading of a girl looking for a new target for her fun new toy.
Max didn't like this game any more. Her head hurt from the repeated rewinds, and her heart hurt from seeing that look on Chloe's face, seeing her dying, seeing her aware that she was dying. She felt unmoored, lightheaded, and wanted to sit down, but there was nowhere to sit. "H... how about the left tire?"
Chloe, not noticing Max's change in mood, turned to her target. "Adios, spinning wheel of death..."
Max felt the sick lurch of panic in her chest at the sound of the gun, but this time no blood blossomed from Chloe's chest. The bullet hit the tire, which popped satisfyingly. The sudden decrease in pressure in one of the tires holding the vehicle up made the entire car lurch forward, tilting off its perch. The car fell end-first onto the ground, its momentum carrying it over to land upside down upon their makeshift shooting range, destroying the shelf and its remaining bottle with a loud crash that echoed in Max's ringing ears.
"Ubercool!" Chloe crowed, bouncing up and down. She high-fived the still somewhat lightheaded Max, delighted. "I cannot believe this is for reals! My best friend is a superhero!"
Max managed a faint smile, ducking her head, but looked up quickly as Chloe added, "Now it's your turn to bust a cap, Super Max."
"Chloe...I don't know..." She felt sick, dizzy. Her head was pounding.
Max felt wetness touching her upper lip around the same moment Chloe's look changed to one of concern. "Max... your nose."
Max saw blood on her hand, the spreading red as bright as that which had blossomed from Chloe's chest. "I don't... feel so super."
She was only vaguely aware of Chloe lunging forward with a cry of "Max!" and of the ground rising up to meet her as her knees gave way.
~*~*~*~
There was wind in the darkness, such terrible wind that it stole the breath from one's mouth and nose, and all other sounds were drowned out in its all-encompassing roar. Its violence flung Max this way and that, without effort, with no sign of land or concept of up or down; it drove the rain before it so hard it stung her face like many tiny needles. For a long moment, there was only the storm. Then the briefest flash of lightning gave the wind its shape: a great, dark wedge descending from the furious heavens above and before her, blotting out half the sky and promising death to any in its way.
~*~*~*~
Max came back to herself slowly, finding herself with her head in Chloe's lap. Chloe smelled different than Max remembered her. Now that indefinably Chloe scent was laced with cheap weed and cheaper beer, and the faint, nerve-jangling scent of gunfire. She hadn't known that had a smell. Max blinked up at Chloe, her hand moving drowsily to check that her nose wasn't still bleeding.
"Girl you freaked me out there," Chloe remarked, eyeing her in concern as she helped Max sit up. "Do you feel any better now?"
Max still felt... weird. "A little. Thanks for helping me, just...give me a minute."
"Too much action for Arcadia?"
"Maybe not enough," Max muttered. "That was... kinda fun." Just not that part in the middle, with the blood and the panic and the dying. "Scary and stupid, but... fun."
"Think you're ready to lock and load?"
Max grimaced. "I don't know about this."
The danger now passed, Chloe helped her stand up. "What? Are you afraid of getting in trouble? Boohoo, Max is afraid!" She put the handgun into Max's still mostly-unresisting hands and showed her how to hold it steady. "I know you can handle this, Time Lady. And I'm here to guide you. Make me proud, sista!"
At least, Max reasoned, if something happened she could still rewind. Probably. The gun's literal and metaphorical weight was unfamiliar and frightening in her hand, and even as she sighted along the length of the barrel at a junker car's windshield - glass should be pretty safe, right? - she wasn't sure where she should be focusing.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Max noticed Chloe turn away from her, tensing up, and... someone was coming. A stranger. Acting on reflex, Max hid the gun behind her back.
The man was rank, unkempt, and solidly built. He had some decidedly regrettable tattoos lining the sides of his neck that Max decided she didn't want to know the meanings of.
"Heyyy," the man greeted them in a way that could only be described as falsely friendly, walking slowly towards them. "It's Thelma and Louise. Or is it Bonnie and Clyde?"
"Excuse us, Frank," Chloe replied, tightly. Chloe knows this guy, Max thought, watching them both. And he's trouble.
The apparent Frank gave Chloe a thin smile, still approaching without apparent haste. "Oh, sorry, Chloe. Don't let me get in the way of your bonding. I heard the gunshots and the breaking glass... You know it's cute that you're playing with guns. Just like me at your age."
"We're not anything alike, man," Chloe replied, just as tense. Max couldn't help the anxiety running through her at Chloe's reaction to this man.
Frank stepped unhurriedly to the side, circling the two of them, making Chloe and Max turn to keep him in front of them. "I wouldn't say that. We both need money, don't we, Chloe? In fact, you need it so bad you owe me a shitload. Don't you?"
"You'll get your money."
"Don't they all say that? Y'know, even when they're dead broke they're still acting tough..." Frank chuckled, and seemed to notice Max for the first time. "What're you hiding there, girlie?"
Max took a step back, gun still behind her back, and Frank pointed at her, curious now. "No I mean it, let me see."
Chloe suddenly stepped towards Frank, her tightly-held tension blooming into accusation. "Hey! Where did you get that bracelet???"
And... yeah, Max could definitely see the resemblance of the handmade bracelet around the wrist of his outstretched hand to the two bracelets she had seen in the junkyard hideout.
Frank turned to the suddenly-close Chloe, dismissive. "A friend. And it's none of your goddamn business. You're my business now and I--"
Chloe wasn't having it. "That's Rachel's bracelet! Why the fuck are you wearing her bracelet?!"
"Calm yourself, alright? It was a gift," he protested, but his attempts to calm Chloe down had the exact opposite effect.
"No, it wasn't!" she shouted, getting up in his face and reaching for the man's hand. "You stole that shit! Give it to me right now, asshole! Right now!"
And then Max saw the knife Frank suddenly had in the hand Chloe was going after, and fear gripped her.
Frank leaned close to Chloe, forcing her to back up, his voice quiet and angry now. "You better step back before you regret it, girl. I mean it. You want me to cut you, bitch?"
Max couldn't think clearly. Her heart was racing inside her chest. Really, she could only think of one thing to do. "Please!" she said, taking the gun out from behind her back and holding it steady like Chloe had shown her, pointing it at Frank. "Please step back."
Frank almost laughed, but he was definitely less sure of himself. "You're kidding. Put that down."
When she didn't react, he took a step towards her. "Come on, girlie. Either put it down, or shoot me." And then another step. "I'm right here."
Max looked around uncertainly, not about to back up and trip over whatever unseen bit of junk would surely be lying in wait for her, but unable to get away. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't shoot him, right? But he's coming towards her. He's right there. She pulls the trigger.
And the gun goes click.
She isn't sure who who looks more surprised, herself or Frank. He gives a faint laugh and gives Max a hard look.
"That is hilarious! Oh, man... I'll remember you, kid. I'll remember you almost shot me. And you'll wish I had no memory, because I never forget." Max felt cold, watching him turn to Chloe and put his knife away. "You have until Friday to pay me, bitch. Don't ever pull crap like this again. It'll be the last time you do. Count your bullets next time, kids."
Max waited until Frank was long gone before she let out the breath she was holding.
"S-sorry," she murmured, voice shaking. Chloe wrapped her arms around Max in a hug.
"No sorries. You were awesome. Thanks for standing up for me, Max," Chloe sighed, and Max could tell she was trying not to think about what this meant for her debt to Frank. "Let's blow. My secret lair didn't feel secret today. At least Frank is gone; he won't fuck with us again today."
Max walked with her towards the tracks, and couldn't help mulling over the interaction in her mind. I almost shot that guy! I would have shot that guy! I almost did! And now he'll be more dangerous than ever to Chloe and me. What if... I mean, it isn't like there are any bullets left in the gun anyway...
At least her head wasn't hurting so badly, when she put up her hand and concentrated. It was a bit of a way back, and took a while, but eventually Max watched Frank walk backwards towards them and take out his knife, saw him step back towards her, saw her finger move against the trigger.... and then she let herself slip back into the flow of time.
"Come on, girlie. Either put it down, or shoot me. I'm right here."
Max watched him approach, watching his eyes to see what he'll do. He lifted his hand as he stepped towards her. And almost gently, like trying to keep from spooking a fractious wild animal, Frank plucked the gun out of Max's hands. And then he laughed.
"Oh, Christ. You two're more like Abbott and Costello." He turned to look at Chloe. "Nice piece, though. I'll consider this interest on your loan. Thanks. You have until Friday to pay me. Or maybe I'll track you down with this interest."
Frank waved the gun tauntingly, and turned to leave. "Have a good play, kids."
Max watched him leave, quiet, knowing Chloe would be unhappy.
"...Wow, you really stood your ground, Max."
Max didn't look at her. She felt guilty for letting Chloe down, but also a terrible relief at not having the gun anymore. "I freaked. I don't like guns," she reminded Chloe.
"It'll be hard to feel safe now, or keep Nathan off my ass... and my step-shit will have his other guns sealed in an electrified bunker by now..."
Max turned to her, catching her hand. "I am sorry, Chloe. But... I've never held a gun on a human being before, and I - I don't like the idea of you being angry at me for not shooting someone."
"I know, Max. Really," Chloe sighed, squeezing her hand. "I'm actually relieved it worked out this way instead... And there are always more guns out there. Anyway, let's blow. My secret lair didn't feel secret today. At least Frank is gone; he won't fuck with us again today."
Max followed Chloe out of the junkyard, to the railroad tracks winding their long, slow curve through the towering firs. They walked together in companionable silence for a while, coming down from the anxiety of the confrontation with Frank. They weren't in any hurry, and balanced on the parallel rails as they went. Except for the sound of their own movements and the faint rustling of the trees in the breeze, it was quiet, a moment caught out of time.
Chloe sighed suddenly. "I... just liked having that gun, man."
Max could understand that, she supposed. A measure of safety, of control, in a life with so little of either. She reached out her hand, and took Chloe's, and was happy to have Chloe take her hand in return. "Now you've got me to protect you," she promised.
Chloe smiled slightly, nodding. "I'm just glad you were here. No telling how it would've gone if you weren't.
"Me too," Max agreed, not wanting to think about it. "But, Chloe. Why the hell are you hanging around scary losers like Frank anyway?"
Chloe let out a faint, dry laugh, and nodded. "Let's take a break, and I'll talk."
The rail track switching station wasn't far - Max had always loved it in the vague way of childhood, though had of course never known much about how it worked. Up the hill from the tracks, the quaint little shed with its weird lights and mysterious purpose looked like lighthouse's smaller cousin. Like something out of another time. Especially now. There apparently had been some work done on the line recently, as a bulldozer, some tools, and giant metal spool of heavy cable - easily four times bigger than Max - could be seen beside the shed.
The two girls lay down where the track split, near the heavy-duty lever that controlled which way the active track led. On one side, the track slowly bent south towards sleepy Arcadia Bay, while the other bent north towards the far-off, bustling Seattle. Max leaned back, resting her head on the rail, and watched the sky above, the faint wispy clouds pale against the blue.
"Feels like a different world, huh?" Chloe echoed Max's own thoughts. She knew her too well. "I wish we could stay forever."
Max nodded, closing her eyes. "Can we build another pirate fort and keep the world out?"
"We do need a new secret hangout... one where Frank wouldn't find us, at least," Chloe sighed. "Are you okay, Max?"
Opening her eyes again, Max turned her head to look at Chloe. "No, I'm not. I'm still freaked out about what happened... That was awful, Chloe."
More awful than Chloe knew.
"I am sorry," Chloe replied. "At least Frank isn't as hardcore as he fronts. All he cares about is his cash, stash, and mangy dog."
But Max wasn't buying it. "Chloe, are you for reals? Frank just took your gun and threatened us! He's armed and clearly dangerous."
"Max, I know!" Chloe grimaced, defensive. "Crazy shit is the new normal for me. That's why I... planned to leave Arcadia Bay without paying Frank off."
"At least tell me what is going on between you two. Does he even have a last name?"
"Frank Bowers. He's just a dealer. Where I get my weed. The one in 'your' joint, remember? Anyway, Frank and I kind of hung out." Chloe was obviously uncomfortable about that fact.
"'Hung out?'" Max echoed, hesitant. "You don't mean you..."
Chloe almost laughed, but it sounded more like a choke. "No, we didn't have sex. Gross, man. He never even tried. I just made the mistake of borrowing money so Rachel and I could bail outta here."
"That's it?"
"No. Well, it was. But now I want to know how Frank got Rachel's bracelet."
"I... saw your and Rachel's bracelets, in the shed," Max admits. "While I was looking for bottles - I wasn't being nosy."
Chloe smiled at her, comfortable. "Sure, Max." Chloe knew her too well. "I probably should have just sent you to look there first - plenty of bottles in there."
"Those bracelets looked just like the one Frank was wearing."
"Yeah." Chloe nodded, pensive. "Damn. It's so weird talking to you about this insane crap. We haven't hung out this much since we were tweens...and it's like no time has passed."
An ache entered Chloe's voice. "I wish Rachel was here to meet you."
Max was reminded of the letter, but didn't feel it was the right time to bring up something that even Rachel hadn't wanted to bring up. "Do you think that Rachel and I... would have been friends?"
Chloe smiled at Max. "You're not that different. She had-has a great eye for images and for art. Plus, she's a smartass like you. We would all be hella best friends forever."
"I know she must be as hella cool as you are," Max replied, which made Chloe chuckle. "I have no doubt we'll meet soon."
Chloe grinned, closing her eyes. "Railroad tracks always make me feel better...I have no idea why."
Max stretched, comfortably. She also felt... better. Still somewhat lightheaded, but... looser, somehow. At least her nose wasn't bleeding anymore. She moved to get to her feet. The light reflecting against the water tower behind the switching station, framed by the spindly firs, was just perfect. Or would be, once she got the right angle. "Kerouac knew. It's the romance of travel and movement...the sound of the train whistle at night... carrying you far away into adventures unknown."
Chloe watched her, grinning. "Look at the beat poet here."
"Nah," Max smiled. "I'd rather be a good photographer."
"You are a good photographer, Max. You just have to stop being afraid."
"You say that like it's easy," Max shakes her head, before holding her camera up and moving, seeking the right angle. Moving while looking through the camera made her a bit unsteady, and she had to be careful. The sunlight was almost too bright against the white-painted metal, almost -
"Perfect." Max angled the camera up, and a flash of reflected light momentarily blinded her. She felt the whole-body flinch convulse through her before she realized what was happening. The tornado was roaring around her once again, and she was tossed this way and that by the powerful wind. Rain stung her face and hands. The only thing she could through the roar was Chloe's voice. So faint, she could barely make it out. The sound of her name. Max! The sound repeated against the roar and whine of the wind, panic laced through the tone. Max help!
Max came back to herself, on her hands and knees beside the tracks. The rough angles of the gravel beneath her palms echoed the sting of the remembered rain. Chloe's voice had also followed her back into the real world.
"Max help! I'm stuck!"
"Hold on, Chloe!" Max cried, lurching to her feet and grabbing Chloe's hands, trying to pull her up from the tracks. "Your boot is stuck on the... on the switch thing!"
"Yeah it moved just a bit ago!" Chloe replied, trying to wiggle her foot out of the tight leather boot with no luck. "I don't know why. It just did it on its own."
And then both of them froze, their blood running cold at the faint, lonesome wail of a train's whistle. "Max, the train!"
"I know!" Shitshitshitshit.
"Max! Get me out!"
"I know! I know!! L-let me see if I can throw the switch!"
Max hurried along the track to the large metal switch, the lever nearly as tall as her, and gripped the handle, hauling on it with her entire bodyweight. It didn't budge. She leaned back forcefully again and again, trying to pull it, but there was no way to move it. It was stuck. No, not stuck. It was locked in place. If it had moved by itself, there had to be some signal - some current that kept it in its current position.
"Please hurry, Max!" The sound of the train engine was getting louder by the moment.
"Hold on, Chloe!"
Max fled up the slope to the switching station shed, pulling roughly on the - tightly locked - door. Damn! I have to get this open! She hurried around the side of the building, trying to block out Chloe's increasingly yells from the track. Max felt almost sick with relief when she saw a heavy crowbar hung up on a pegboard.
"Max please!"
I can definitely use this bad boy! That door doesn't stand a chance. It wasn't easy, by any means, and Max all-too-acutely felt the passing of every terrified second, but eventually the snug lock did give way and the door opened. The... the fusebox! She threw open the ancient panel to find it full of wires of different colors and thickness, and none labeled. And though there was a pair of pliers nearby, Max had... no idea which one she should cut. What if... what if she cut the wrong one? What if she cut one that made things worse? She couldn't try them all. There wasn't time.
"Please hurry!" The panic rising in Chloe's voice made Max sick, and glancing through the window - no, the train. It was coming. She saw the moment the engineer spotted Chloe on the tracks, saw him throw on the train's breaks so hard they threw sparks. But Max could tell it was too late for the train to stop.
"Max I don't want to die like this!"
She had to rewind.
Swallowing the bile-tasting panic and trying like mad to focus, Max lifted her hand, and concentrated. The effort involved made her feel like she was trying to keep her own heart from beating. Her head ached and swam, but she soon saw the familiar echoed blur of time being unwound backwards. The sparks fell back into the train's wheels, and the train itself soon disappeared from the bend in the tracks, she ran back the time as long as she could, until Max felt like she, herself, was unraveling. Until the headache escalated sharply, and she was forced to stop, and fall back into the flow of time.
The heavy crowbar was still in her hand. If... if she couldn't figure out the right wire, maybe she could force the lever to move. Something stronger than the signal holding it in place.
"Please hurry!"
Max lurched outside again, leaving the fusebox hanging open, and plunged the bent end of the crowbar under the curve of the giant spool of heavy cable. There was no way she could move it by herself, but with the crowbar she should.... with the crowbar she should be able to lever it up and send it down the slope into the switching lever. It wasn't budging either. Max felt sick, and was running out of ideas. Something was preventing the spool from moving.
"Maaaaax!"
Max looked at the other side of the spool. A wedge. Of course. To prevent any risk of it rolling down the hill at the switching lever. Swinging the crowbar like a baseball bat, Max roughly knocked the wedge out of the way. She could hear the great roar of the train, the high, shrieking whine of the breaks. She didn't have to look to know the wheels would be throwing up showers of sparks.
"Max! I don't want to die like this!"
Shoving the crowbar under the curve of the giant spool again, Max hauled on it with all of her weight. She felt the spark of hope rise in her chest as the spool moved, as it rolled and was sent spinning, its terrible bulk gathering momentum as it careened down the embankment. She saw it hit the switch, saw it break the switch off near the ground, and saw the split in the tracks change as the connection was broken.
But the train was still barreling towards Chloe, who was struggling to get to her feet. Max hurled herself down the slope, back to Chloe. She cried aloud as she pulled Chloe up and out of the train's way, the taller girl falling into Max's arms. They didn't say anything, just clutched tightly to one another as the roaring bulk of the train sped past them, the noise reverberating in their chests as they pulled in great gasps of air and tried not to shake.
The train sped along the left-hand route back to Arcadia Bay, rumbling over the broken switch, unable to go anywhere but where the rails took it.
"Damn that was close," Max murmured weakly, as the rumble died away.
Chloe hugged her tight, rocking left and right as though incapable of staying still. "Max, you saved me. You saved me! Again! D'you realize how crazy this is? Now we're totally bonded for life!"
Max stepped back, looking at Chloe worriedly. "Are you okay?"
"I've got splinters in my ass and leg, so I wish there was a less violent way for you to save me...And now the trains can't get to the lumber mill...Haha.. whoops." Max couldn't help but laugh, weakly, and Chloe grinned at her. Neither of them could really care about supply chain issues right now. "Aren't you glad I took you away to a nice quiet, desolate spot?"
"It was cool to spend time in your lair," Max admits, managing a smile. "Could have... could have done without the rest of it, though. It feels so weird that after all that, I still have to get back to school before my next class."
Chloe put her arm around Max as they walked back along the tracks. "No problem. Since you're the mysterious superhero, I'll be your faithful chauffeur and companion."
Max leaned her head on Chloe's shoulder, unsure. She had been able to maneuver them through the threats mostly unscathed, but the morning so far had been terrifying, and the echoes of Chloe's screams of panic still echoed in Max's head. The storm was still coming, and she was no closer to figuring out how to stop it.
"My powers might not last, Chloe..."
"That's okay," Chloe assured her, resting her head against Max's. "We will. Forever."
