The ratty old truck barreled down the road, pushing through the wind and rain, as it had a hundred times before. It sped past the crashed semi-truck, slid around the blue overturned car, and came to a screeching halt before what had once been a building, but was now just a pile of metal and wood. The entire town looked like this now; destruction, chaos, and death. A place once quiet and ordinary, was now a battlefield, and it didn't look like anyone was walking off of it. This wasn't the first time the truck's driver had seen this.

The driver fought with her seatbelt, groping for the buckle and pulling at the strap, until she heard the click and wrenched the truck's door open. She was hit with the winds full force, almost knocking her off of her feet. Stumbling around the rear of the truck, she tripped over a stray board and fell onto the concrete. She was racing against the storm and the only thing in her vision was the diner; nothing else registered and nothing else mattered.

She ignored the pain coming from her skinned palms and bruised knee and pushed herself back up. The wind continued to thrash her as she took off in a sprint around the pile of debris between her and the diner.

C'mon just a little further dammit. . . You'll get there this time

The driver leapt over an overturned mailbox, noticing an orange glow in her peripheral. It started small and started getting larger and moving further to her left.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. . .

She rounded the end of the debris and started toward the diner, just across the street from her. Success was just within her grasp. . . Then the orange glow reached the diner. The fire had snaked along a gas trail and found its way into the diner, finding plenty of fuel once within. The explosion rocked the entire street, throwing the driver to the ground and fire into the sky.

"No. . ." Chloe whispered as she watched the fire burn every last piece of hope in her heart as it had done every time before.


"Chloe's out in this?"

"Yep, gets her daily shower and light show about this time." The other Max said flashing me a grin.

"You're a sadist." I said and turned away from her.

"Takes one to know one, honey." We were standing at the end of Arcadia Bay's main street, an awning shielding us from the storm's downward assault. From there I could see all the way to the diner, and every collapsed building and overturned car inbetween, but I couldn't see any people.

"This isn't like I remember it," I said, turning back to the other Max. "I remember there were other Blackwell students and people around here."

"This isn't your memory, Max," She said. "This is where your last memory of Chloe is, not a memory. It's her own little slice of hell."

Chloe deserves better than this. She doesn't deserve hell.

"You said she goes to the diner every day. . . A-And watches it um-" I said, trying to find the words.

"Explode? Go up in flames? Fourth of July all over the place?" The other Max offered.

Right, explode. . . With Joyce inside. . .

"Right, but I don't see Chloe anywhere."

"She'll be there, trust me."

Yeah, trust you. Like that's possible.

"Ok, then let's head over there." I said, and started towards the Two-Whales. Before I reached the end of the awning the other Max tackled me, both of us tumbling into a giant puddle, sending a giant wave of water into the air.

"What the hell?!" I yelled, trying to break her hold on me. I wiggled and fought against her arms, which were wrapped around me in a bear hug, but couldn't get free. "Let g-"

"Shut up." She hissed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Wha-"

"Stop." She hissed again. I started to say something else, but that's when I saw it. It was standing at the mouth of the alley opposite us, not moving, just staring out into the street, like it was waiting for something. It had pale skin, cold-gray eyes that seemed to glow ever so slightly, it wore a white-button up shirt with black slacks, and to top it all off, it looked like a man I had never wanted to see again, in this life or the next. . . Mark Jefferson.