A shaking, unsteady hand reached for the keys to turn off the truck's ignition. Chloe Price, a weathered, tired, shocked, and bleary-eyed wreck of a person, brought silence to the cabin for the first time since the flight from Arcadia Bay. To her right, Maxine Caulfield lay strewn unconsciously against the passenger door, her legs curled up uncomfortably onto the seat. Almost immediately after their entry onto the main thoroughfare Max closed her eyes and hadn't opened them since. Not that Chloe minded. After everything, a bit of silence was fine with her. Even if that silence grew into a six hour stretch.
Chloe returned both her hands to the steering wheel and leaned her body against it while keeping her eyes focused on Max. Questions, both practical and existential, had tumbled incessantly through her mind during their retreat to Seattle. Had anyone made survived? Were both her parents now dead? Why on earth did Max chose her, over everyone else? More so than all others that final question weighed heavy. Could Max ever truly recover from what she did? When she wakes up, what sort of person will be there? Will she still be the earnest, loving, and faithful friend with whom Chloe had reconnected over the past week? Or would she be a broken husk, unable to grapple with her final fate-defying decision.
And what about herself? Chloe knew that from here on out, she would dedicate herself to being worthy of Max's heartfelt confession on at the lighthouse. Over and over her words repeated in Chloe's mind: "you are my number one priority."
No pressure, Chloe thought. I was really ready for it, too. It was the right thing to do-I still can't believe she tore that photo. Our final ticket to making things right; to saving all those people. To-to saving Mom. She threw it away without a second thought. And now? How the fuck am I supposed to return that favor? I shouldn't even be alive...
With a sigh Chloe reached out and gave Max's shoulder a soft squeeze. "Yo, Max. We're here. Come on, I'll bet your parents are going apeshit with worry right now." But Max remained comatose, Chloe's words falling deaf on her slumbering partner. After a few more failed efforts Chloe decided to call in reinforcements.
Chloe sucked in the cool Saturday morning air into her lungs as she exited her vehicle, which was parked against the curb in a quiet yet welcoming Capitol Hill neighborhood. A quick glance at her phone informed her that it was around 4:00 AM. Across the street was, according to quick directions Max provided prior to passing out, the Caulfield residence. Like most of the surrounding homes Max's house was a small but comfortable looking single story dwelling. A well kept lawn and a few trees adorned the lot, giving it an impression of peaceful and practical solitude.
Here goes nothing. I bet they won't even recognize me. And I really hope this is the right place-otherwise there's going to be one pissed the fuck off stranger. It should be illegal to be awake at this ungodly hour.
Gulping down her remaining hesitation, Chloe rapped her knuckles against the front door and nervously waited for a response. Within moments she heard rapid shuffling and the clicks of a lock being released. The door promptly opened to reveal a face she hadn't seen in five years: Ryan Caulfield. For a strange and confusing moment, their eyes met. It was clear Ryan did not recognize the young woman on his doorstep, and that he was expecting someone else. Police, probably.
"Honey, who is it?" Chloe heard Vanessa ask from out of sight. The worry and fear in her voice was palpable. Well, at least something good is going to come out of this. Granted, they really should have called when they started getting reception again. But Max was out cold by then, and Chloe didn't have the Caulfield's home phone, nor did she know Max's swipe password. So incommunicado it was. Chloe didn't even bother to turn on the radio for the whole trip. She figured that, for once, perhaps she needed some silence to contemplate and try to come to terms with Max's choice. And so, Chloe found herself at a complete loss for words. Nervously, she grabbed the beanie off her head and clutched it in front of her with both hands.
"Oh my god," she heard Ryan utter under his breath. "Chloe? Chloe Price? Is that you?"
"H-hi, Mr. Caulfield. Y-yeah," Chloe managed with weak smile. "Can-can I get your help? Max is passed out cold in my truck, I-I can't wake her up."
A flurry of emotions permeated Ryan's face as his brain fully registered what Chloe had said. Right. I suppose I could've started with, "Your daughter is alive." Idiot.
Without another word Ryan blasted past Chloe, who remained standing awkwardly on the porch. From inside the house she caught sight of Vanessa. Her tired face betrayed the tell-tale sign of sleep deprivation and recent tears. Guess I'm not the only one that stayed up all night. Chloe turned to watch Ryan open the passenger side door and effortlessly swoop his daughter into his arms, rushing back to the house after kicking the truck's door closed. To her surprise, Chloe felt a small pang of jealousy. I wish I could do that for her... She looks so small, so frail. A far cry from the fucking time warrior of last week.
Vanessa let out a muted scream as Ryan passed the threshold into their house, closing the distance between them in seconds. Another awkward moment passed as the Caulfields squished a still sleeping Max into a bear hug. Despite all the shit and horror of the past week, Chloe took a soft, pained satisfaction at being responsible for reuniting at least one family. After what seemed a small eternity, Vanessa remembered the stranger standing fretfully at their doorstep.
"Please, come in, you must be a friend of… oh my god. Chloe? "
"Guilty, as charged," Chloe admitted with a shaky laugh. With a sigh of relief Chloe entered the Caulfield residence and shut the door behind her. Immediately she found herself in Vanessa's embrace, hearing muttered "thank yous" repeated again and again. Ryan brushed past them, going to the living room to lay Max down on the couch, never taking his eyes of his daughter's face.
"I… I suppose you'll want to know what happened," Chloe reasoned as she followed Ryan. The sight of Max at peace, asleep on the couch, gave Chloe cause to form a small smile. Without another word she plopped down in one of the sofa chairs. Ryan sat in the chair facing opposite while Vanessa sat beside Max, her hands gently stroking her daughter's face and hair.
"Have you been driving all night?" Was the first thing Ryan asked. "God. Of course you were. That's the only way you could've made here by this hour."
"Y-yeah," Chloe confirmed. "Sorry we didn't call or anything. Max was already zonked out by the time we got cell reception, and I didn't have your number. So I just drove."
Vanessa caught Chloe's eyes. "Enough of that, Chloe. You brought our child back to us. That's all that matters." Vanessa ended her sentence with a choked sob, returning her focus back to Max. "She's right," Ryan agreed. "We can get the full details later. Right now you must be exhausted. That's a helluva drive to do in one shot."
"Heh, yeah," Chloe said with a nervous laugh. "I guess I was just cruising off all that adrenaline. To be honest, it was all just kind of a blur."
Ryan rose from his chair, gesturing for Chloe to do the same. "Follow me. We have a guest bedroom you can get some sleep in. Don't worry about Max, we'll get her to bed in a moment."
The thought of a warm, soft bed, and being able to close her eyes, suddenly seemed an irresistible prospect. Giving no further argument Chloe followed Ryan out of the living room and down a narrow hallway. Towards the end Ryan gestured into a sparsely decorated room that contained a bed which sang to Chloe like a siren to a weary sailor. She managed to get her boots off, but seconds later her head hit the pillow and her body's desire for sleep overpowered all else.
Warmth, was Chloe's first conscious thought. Moments later, when she opened her eyes, she realized why. Max was lying on the bed next to her, gazing with an expression of mixed fear and wonder. Neither girl said anything for a minute, each unsure of how to even start the conversation they both knew needed to happen.
Max relented, closing her eyes and shifting closer to Chloe. "You're alive," was all she said.
Chloe placed a hand on Max's shoulder and opened her mouth to make words, but none would come out. How to even begin? A "thank you" for sacrificing a town's worth of people for her worthless hide? Reprimand her for being so selfish?
You are my number one priority, Max's words echoed in Chloe's mind.
Chloe had to choke down a sob. Realizing she was way too emotional to give a honest, or even witty, reply, she turned to lie on her back and focused on the ceiling.
"Chloe," she heard from her side. "Don't you dare clam up on me." Chloe felt Max interleave her fingers in her hand, forming a locked and tight embrace. "I can't do this alone," she whispered.
Come on, Chloe. Man the fuck up. Pulling in a deep breath of air, she finally found the words to reply. And was immediately cut short by Vanessa bursting into the room, worry plastered over her face. "Max!?" she cried. Her expression immediately softened upon finding Max safe and sound in bed next to Chloe. Propping herself up, Max gave her mother a smile and crossed the distance between them for a proper hug.
Chloe watched as Vanessa swept Max up, clinging to her with the desperation of a parent that thought their child lost. Kissing Max's head, Vanessa pulled them apart and asked if Max was hungry. Seeing as neither of them had eaten since the day before, the answer was a resounding "yes" from both girls. Vanessa parted and shut the door softly, giving the girls the room again.
Max stood stoically for a moment before turning to face Chloe, who was still lying on the bed. Max's expression transformed to pained worry, of self doubt. Of guilt, of the terror that only she and Chloe would ever truly know why all those people died. Suddenly Chloe understood: Max would never be able to repent for what she did. It would be her burden, for the rest of her life. There would be no opportunity for forgiveness. For absolution.
Chloe leapt from bed and wrapped Max into a tight hug. Max stiffened, but quickly fell into the embrace, allowing soft sobs to overtake her. For the first time since ditching the Bay, Chloe spoke to Max.
"M-Max. Listen… I don't know what happens next. I don't know if you did the right thing, or if doing what I asked back at the lighthouse would've fixed anything. But… we need to stay focused on the present, now, yeah? What's done is done. I wish I could take it all away. You of all people do not deserve this shit. So blame me, okay? I'm the one that pressured you into using your powers. That you had to save in the first place. That guilted you into this."
Max uttered a small gasp and pushed Chloe back so they could make eye contact. "Is that what you think? That you guilted me into saving you? That's fucking bullshit, Chloe. And you know it. You know why I tore up that photo. I already said it. And…" Max stopped to stifle another sob. "How could I live with myself, had I gone back? Letting you die, alone, and broken? Thinking no one loved you?" Max pressed her face back into Chloe's chest before continuing. "No matter what, there was no happy ending, Chloe. All I could do is pick the one I could live with."
"Can you, though?" Chloe whispered. "Live with this?"
"Only one way to find out, Chloe."
Breakfast for dinner was the first order of business after Max and Chloe left the guest room. Outside the sun had mostly set, both girls having slept away most of the day. Max chalked her exhaustion up to over-use of her powers. And Chloe had been completely wiped out from the six hour drive up to Seattle.
Max took in the wonderful smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon-bit waffles, a staple of her father's. Vanessa and Ryan both sat and stared at the girls as they wolfed down their food, as if their presence could be only the result of a small miracle. When both plates had been licked clean Ryan collected the dishes and Vanessa leaned forward with an odd look. It was obvious she wanted to ask that question so simple, yet for obvious reasons, so difficult: what happened?
Max decided to jump in and control the conversation. Best to do this on our terms, she thought. "I guess you're probably wondering how we're here?"
Wordlessly Vanessa nodded as Ryan joined them again at the table, seating himself with a serious and intent expression.
"We were up at the lighthouse when the storm hit. It was far enough away. So we just… we stood there. And watched."
A sullen silence descended over the table. Ryan and Vanessa exchanged looks, both unsure of what to say next.
Finally, Chloe cut in. "After it was over, we had to get out of there. So we hit the road and didn't look back. We don't even know what's happening down there right now."
"Well," Ryan said while leaning forward. "That we can help with. Vanessa and I have been glued to the TV since Friday night. That freak storm has been on all the news channels twenty four seven. No one knows what to make of it. Apparently it's got meteorologists outright stumped. But... it doesn't sound like there were many survivors. I think you two might be the only few that made it out alive."
"There was those cops and that security guard, though," Vanessa reminded Ryan. "That's the other thing that's been on the news. Apparently one of the teachers at your school was abducting students!"
Holy shit, Max thought. David survived? Wowsers. I guess, he probably thinks we died along with everyone else. And I suppose that also means Mark is going to have to face justice. In that, at least, I can take some serious satisfaction.
Max and Chloe exchanged a look, causing both Max's parents to gain worried expressions. "Max, I looked it up, and this Mark Jefferson character was your photography teacher. I think I even remember you talking about him before you left. He didn't-he didn't hurt you, did he?"
For a moment Max wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't want to lie to her parents, but her Dark Room experience never happened in this reality. As things stood her imprisonment and near death was nothing more than a nightmare forever confined to her memories. Underneath the table she felt Chloe grab her hand and give it a small squeeze.
"No," Max lied. "I don't think I was on his… list."
Ryan creased his eyebrows. "I feel like there's more that you guys aren't telling us..."
"... Yeah. Over the past week Chloe and I-we were trying to find what happened to a missing friend of hers. Rachel Amber. We followed a trail of clues that lead us right to Mr. Jefferson. That's when we told David, the security guard, and let him handle the rest. But then the storm hit."
Vanessa had covered her mouth with a hand in shock. "Oh my god, Max, honey. Did, did you find out what happened to Chloe's friend?"
Max gave a grim nod, staring at the table.
"Mark and his protege murdered her," Chloe answered with a hint of bitterness. "We found her body… that's when we went to tell my step-dad. David."
Ryan's eyes widened in shock. "Wait, that security guard was Joyce's husband? This-this is quite the tale, you guys."
"I know," Max affirmed. "It's right up there with a monster on an airplane wing. But it's over now. Right? Jefferson's in prison?" Max couldn't prevent the worry from creeping into her voice.
"Of course, honey," Vanessa reassured. "Apparently they waited out the storm in that creep's bunker and booked him at Tillamook this morning."
Max let out a sigh of relief. Whew. Thank god. At least we can finally put that problem to rest.
Chloe was the next to speak. "So, there were no other survivors?"
Max turned to give Chloe a worried look. I guess she's still holding out hope? I can't blame her. But I know what happens to the diner. To Joyce. To Frank. To all those poor people…
Ryan and Vanessa shook their heads. "I'm sorry, Chloe… this tornado, it's not like anything anyone has seen in, well, recorded history. The rescue effort got into full swing this morning, but we've been watching the news all day while you slept. There's been a few survivors, but no names we recognized…" Ryan trailed off, realizing how much these words must hurt the young woman sitting across from him.
Chloe's crestfallen expression tore into Max's heart as she internalized the full weight of her decision. You took her mother away, Max reprimanded herself. First her father, now her mother. Against her will. Again and again she asks you to just let her die but you keep dragging her back from the brink. What right do I have to do this? Does she secretly hate me? Where do we even go from here? I know all I want is her, but how could she feel the same, after what happened? If she stays with me, will it be out of guilt? Obligation to her "friend" that saved her life at the expense those she loved the most?
Max made a motion to hold Chloe's hand, but Chloe just shut her eyes, turning her head away from her audience. With a calculated motion, Chloe slowly rose to her feet and excused herself, retreating to the guest bedroom.
Chloe felt her surroundings spin a little, a creeping nausea taking hold as she allowed the reality that her mom is dead to fully sink in. Quietly, she collapsed onto the bed, curling up into a ball.
After a few minutes Chloe heard the door softly open and shut. Max laid down beside her, placing a lose arm over her body in reassurance. "She didn't deserve to die, Max," was all Chloe could think to say. "I… we had our issues, our fights. But I meant what I said. She didn't deserve to get... snuffed out... like that. None of them did."
Max remained silent for a while, trying to compile a meaningful response. What was there to say? Chloe was right. No one deserved that fate. The fate Max created. And it was a selfish choice. She had condemned so many people to a wrongful death simply because she couldn't bear the thought of Chloe dying alone, feeling worthless and abandoned.
Of course, there was always the chance that the storm was an immutable event. Maybe the it had nothing to do with Chloe living or dying. They would never know for sure. And that uncertainty was a fact with which Max was going to have to live.
"I couldn't do it, Chloe. Maybe I'm the worst person to have these powers. Maybe they were supposed to go to someone more pure, more honest. Someone who could make the hard choice. And do the right thing. But they didn't. And as fucking horrible as it sounds, I can only do what I know I can live with.
Even if you curse me. Push me away. Hate me forever... I wouldn't change a thing. If it's one thing I did learn last week, Chloe, it's that I can't let you die. I just can't. "
Max ended her confession with a sob, unable to control the emotional dam she had created in order to be strong for Chloe. Chloe unraveled herself, shifting around to face Max directly. Their faces met, eyes searching the other's for a strand of meaning, an explanation for the batshit insanity of the past few days. Without hesitation, Max brought her lips in for a chaste, but earnest, kiss on Chloe's lips. She immediately withdrew, suddenly terrified at her bold action.
Holy fuck, Caulfield, Max thought, terrified at how Chloe might respond. What the hell? She's mourning her dead mother, and you go and fucking kiss her? Like she's concerned with that right now! Like that's something even remotely on her mind. I could… I could take it back…
"Don't you fucking dare, Caulfield," Chloe commanded, staring directly into Max's frantic eyes. "I know what you're thinking. Don't. And it's okay. I… I feel the same way, Max." Chloe reinforced her confession by pulling Max close, pressing her head against her shoulder. "I just... fuck, Max. I'm so broken. I'm only going to drag you down. You deserve better than the toxic heap of waste that is my life."
"You're so full of shit, Chloe," Max half sobbed and laughed at the same time. "You know there's no reality in which we're not together, right? I would tear apart the fucking world for you." Max faltered, frightened at the earnestness in her own voice and the intensity of her proclamation.
Chloe was stunned, unable to concoct a response for several moments to such a forceful admission. She raised a hand to Max's face, tracing her fingers in smooth lines among her freckles. "I believe you, Max."
One door closes, and another opens, Chloe thought as she lay beside Max. After declaring their feelings for one another, Max had fallen into a light sleep, tossing and turning only a little. Occasionally Chloe would her name escape Max's lips. It felt good.
From an objective standpoint, this is so fucked. First I lose my dad, then Rachel. Then this wizard of a girl springs back into my life after five years of the cold shoulder. And fuck, I took her back without a second thought. Was it just desperation? As much as I hate admitting it, being alone sucks ass. Without Rachel around, I was so lost. Max coming back was just… it was the first good thing to happen in so long. And she seems so earnest… but does that make up for everything? She ignored me when I needed her the most. Who's to say she won't do it again? Would it be better to skip to the chase? Take off now? Before she has the chance to ditch me again?
Chloe's thoughts often wound up in this place-a whirlwind of self doubt and uncertainty. A lifetime of death and abandonment had left its mark, and it would take more than a few days to fully heal. A sudden urge for a cigarette took hold. Chloe silently slid out from the bed, being careful to not wake Max. Before leaving the room, Chloe gave a lingering look at her… girlfriend? Best friend with benefits? She couldn't tell exactly what they were. But at least they had time to figure it out.
Chloe stealthed through the hallways, avoiding the Caulfields, and found refuge in the solitude of their backyard. She paced it tirelessly, taking steady drags from her cigarette. But her concentration was broken at the vibration of her cell phone. Mom, was all she could think. But it wasn't. The caller ID read "Step-Douche."
Great. I guess I should just get this over with.
She accepted the call and raised the phone to her ear.
"Chloe? Chloe!? Please, god, tell me that's you."
The reception was crackly and full of static. But Chloe couldn't ignore the earnest worry conveyed in his voice.
"Yeah, David, it's me. S-sorry I didn't get in touch earlier. Glad… glad to hear you're okay."
"Oh, Christ, Chloe, thank god. I was so worried. Things are so chaotic down here, we're finding new bodies by the minute. We…" David's voice stopped for a moment, and Chloe could swear she heard him sob. "... we found Joyce. I'm so sorry Chloe."
Again, the world spun a little. Chloe felt momentarily weightless, like she was floating in space. No direction was up. Nothing felt like anything.
"Chloe? Are you there?"
Chloe collapsed to the ground, trying her best to control the sobs. But she kept the phone close to her face.
"Chloe… It's going to be okay. We'll take care of each other, alright? Just stay strong, Chloe. It's what Joyce would have wanted."
Collecting herself, Chloe was finally able to formulate a response. "I-I know."
"Chloe, where are you? Are you safe? Are you hurt?"
"No. No, we're fine," Choe stammered, collecting herself. "Max and I were at the lighthouse when the storm hit. Afterwards we just, we hit the road. We drove straight to Seattle. We're at Max's parents' house right now."
"Oh, thank Christ," David exclaimed, the relief in his voice palpable. "Stay there, alright? Just, stay there. Stay safe."
"We will, David. Don't worry about us. We'll be fine."
"Keep in touch, Chloe. I'll talk to you soon."
With that, Chloe ended the call. She was still on the ground as she brought the cell phone down to her knees, staring at the screen. Her tears began to mix with a steady drizzle of rain that started moments earlier. Looking up, she saw only gray overcast above, perfectly reflecting the state of her soul.
"Yes, affirmative. Both of the targets remain at the Caulfield residence. We'll hold here until further instructions."
The bald man rolled his eyes as he ended the call and conveyed an expression of doubt to his partner seated beside him in the sleek, black Escalade parked down the street from Max's house.
"Can you believe this shit?" he asked. "Why the fuck does bossman care about two tweenie girls?"
"Not our place to ask, Mandaver. We're here to do a job. And with the kinda money Prescott shits out, I'm not inclined to ask questions."
"Amen to that," the driver replied. "Still. Arcadia Bay is a fucking disaster zone right now. Doesn't he want us there, protecting his assets?"
"The man made it very clear that we keep a close eye on these two. My money's on that they know something they shouldn't. So enough with the bitching, alright?"
"Yeah, yeah," he relented while bringing a Starbucks cup to his lips. "This just ain't how I saw my employment here turning out. The sooner we bag these delinquents, the happier I'll be."