Sean popped open the car door, and swung his cramped legs out the the shaded outside. He sighed before stenciling that last bit of shadow into his notebook.
He had started the sketch of his two rescuers nearly 25 minutes ago, and he knew he could take his time. He had sketched his view from the backseat, the silhouettes of Max and Warren outlined against the wasteland in front of them. He even added little halos to each of their heads to add to the effect.
Still, it was hard to be comfortable. He had met some strangers along the journey, and, yes, quite a few of them were helpful. Brody, Finn and Cassidy…
But several others went out of their way to cause him and Daniel pain or discomfort or both. Typically, if he were going to be honest, almost all of those guys were white.
So, when two white strangers pull up and offered him a ride, he hesitated. He almost said, "No thanks, I can make it from here."
But he didn't. He put his faith in them. So far, it's paid dividends.
He stood and stretched, returning his notebook to his backpack while sighing.
It wasn't the same without Daniel. He was starting to miss his kid brother's endless curiosity, his stubborn attitude. He could imagine him walking all over the gas station, and investigating every nook and cranny. He probably would have asked Max and Warren several hundred questions by now.
"Anxious?" A soft voice broke through his thoughts.
His eyes shot up. It was at this point he realized that his leg was shaking profusely.
"Uh, no," he lied. It had become natural to him now, and a part of him hated that. "Just a nervous habit."
She nodde like she understood. A small silence elapsed between then. He risked a look up to her eyes. Her blue irises were clouded over, as if she were in thought. Guarded, perhaps.
"I get it," she replied gently. "You wanna go for a walk?"
He frowned in sudden consternation. "A walk?"
She nodded, her eyes unchanging. "Yeah, Warren's having stomach issues."
"Hm." He wasn't quite sure if he believed her. "Stomach issues" could mean anything. It could also mean calling the police on him.
But if they were calling the police, why lead him away from where they were? He didn't want to believe Max would set a trap on him, but, even if she did, would staying out even be the wiser choice? He was surrounded by multiple people, all of them having no part in any of this. Not only that, but he would be a sitting duck.
At least by taking this walk, he'd be on the move. And, if he absolutely had to, he could overpower the thin, freckled girl.
"Okay," he answered. He slapped his hands on his knees and promptly stood. He turned to grab his backpack, and slung it over his shoulder.
Sean glanced back at her, but she didn't ask why he was bringing his backpack. His suspicions rose, but he also figured she saw him put his notebook in there, and he would want to bring it. After all, she was taking her own bag.
Standing next to her, he realized he had a few inches of height on her. That, and seeing her pale thin frame next to him felt almost similar to walking with Lyla a lifetime away in Seattle.
He felt a pang in his heart then. It was a strange mixture of loneliness and nostalgia. Not for the first time, he missed his old, comfortable life back in Seattle. He missed when his biggest problems in life were asking Jenn Murphy out. When his little brother was nothing more than an annoyance.
They had each walked several paces beyond the gas station when Sean felt himself being bumped to the ground.
A gruff looking white boy, maybe just a year older than he stood over him, wearing a sadistic smirk. He bent over to put his ugly face nose to nose with Sean before growling "Out of my way, spic."
Sean glared back at him in contempt. He had seen his fair share of racist assholes. They only seemed to get worse as they neared the border.
Before he could say anything, he could see Max give the racist the tiniest shove. "Leave him alone!"
The boy stumbled back a few steps, seemingly caught off-balance. His eyes glanced from Max to Sean, who had begun to slowly pick himself up off the ground. The surprise seemed to wane off of his face after a short time.
"What are you doing with this… beaner?"
"My friend," Max retorted, "and I were just stretching our legs when you pushed him down!"
The racist's nose crinkled up in disgust. He took a step forward towards Sean. "Your friend is here illegally. He and his people think they can just hop the border and pretend to be us! The-"
"Fuck you," Sean growled. "This is my country."
Max bit her lip, looking like she was trying to decide what to say. But she didn't get the chance. Their opposition took a step back. He looked at them both before scoffing. "Whatever, you one-eyed freak. I got better things to do than this. But you and your white girlfriend make me sick."
Sean wanted to say something back, but he bit his tongue. For once the situation seemed that it was going to end without violence. Maybe that was because he had Max with him, maybe it was just his lucky day. He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to dwell on it too much.
As he walked past, he tried to shoulder through Sean, but Sean stood tough. The racist tried to peer at him around his flannel, but Sean ignored him. Max grabbed the wrist of Sean's sleeve to get him moving again.
"Let's go." Her voice sounded on the urge of pleading, but steady.
"Okay," Sean muttered as he relaxed his tense shoulders. He allowed her to drag him away from the friction, now grateful for her presence. He waited several paces to speak again, with his head cast down to the ground and his eyes on the pavement. "Well that could've gone better."
"Trust me," Max replied slowly. "It really could not have."
"Maybe. But thanks. Honestly, I didn't think you had it in you."
Max licked her lips. She seemed nervous. "It's something I picked up from a friend of mine. Among many other things."
Before he could ask what she meant by something so cryptic, Max brought out a blunt and a lighter. Sean turned in surprise and raised an eyebrow at her. She blushed. "Sorry, do you want to take a hit?"
Sean thought for a second. "Yeah." He tried to smile reassuringly, but it may have come out as a grimace.
"Okay," Max said, but it sounded as if it were mostly to herself. "Don't tell Warren. I don't want to explain to him why it helps."
Sean gently took the blunt and the little pink lighter out of her hands. "Because he wouldn't understand."
Max shook her head. "Because," she scratched her nose. "He'd try to understand too much."
"What do you mean?"
She waited for him to take a hit. He coughed slightly and she took a water bottle out of her camera bag. She held it out for him to take.
"Thanks."
She nodded. "Let's just say he can be overbearing sometimes."
"Ah."
"I love him; I do. It's just…"
"He doesn't understand completely."
"Right. He can sympathize, but he can't empathize." She took back the blunt before lighting up for herself. She inhaled and exhaled. She coughed just a little more than him.
Sean sighed. He adjusted his backpack that started to slip off his shoulders. "Do you-" he took a sip of water.
"Maybe." She took a drink of her own water that he didn't notice she had. "I feel like there's so much to say."
"Ditto," Sean replied. He thought again of his dad. Of Daniel. All the people he kept losing. Guilt was gnawing once again at his veins.
She stopped, and he stumbled trying to halt his own footsteps. He peered at her curiously while she dug through her bag. Eventually after some cussing she found what she was looking for. She took out a glossy photo before handing him it, albeit cautiously.
He took it gingerly in his right hand. Bringing it to his left, he scanned it curiously. It was Max, looking relatively the same, but with the bags under eyes significantly smaller, and with another girl. This one was completely punk rock, with pale skin, a tattoo sleeve and a navy blue beanie. She and her were both smiling, not a care in the world. The photo was dated sometime in 2013, October, he deduced.
"Nice photo," he said, letting the question linger.
"That's my best friend, Chloe." Max took a shaky breath. Sean could tell he was bringing on a memory, a very painful one.
"She and I were inseparable. Like sisters, or as I was teased a lot, like girlfriends. We did everything together, two partners in crime. Sometimes literally."
"She sounds great."
"Usually," she chuckled.
"What happened to her?" he asked. He handed her the photo, and she tucked it back in her bag.
She continued to kneel on the ground; her hands rifling through her bag. Sean waited patiently for her. After a few more moments, she stopped to collect herself. "She was, uh, shot."
"Shot?"
"Yeah," she continued quietly. She slowly zipped up her bag, yet remained kneeled on the ground. Her eyes stared morosely into the pavement. "She was shot in the girl's bathroom of all places. She bled out. Right in the middle of the room."
Sean took a cautious step towards her. He wasn't sure how to comfort her. But a vague memory was wrestling to the surface of his mind. He can barely recall an assembly at school where they talked about a girl from Oregon being shot and killed. Of course the school gave them "advice" on how to deal with these situations. "I'm sorry, Max. There's nothing you could've done."
Max gave him a sardonic, miserable smile. "There was a lot I could have done. I was in the bathroom when it happened."
"Shit," Sean breathed. "That sucks." That sucks? Really Sean? he thought to himself.
Max winced. "It does." She shouldered her bag and nodded her head forward to continue their walk. Sean let his feet carry him to meet her.
"The reason I told you this is to let you know that I understand how it feels."
"How it feels?" Sean parroted slowly.
Max gave him a wistful smile. "Warren and I know Sean."
Sean stopped in his tracks. His hands curled into fists and blood rushed to his cheeks. He swallowed. "What are you-"
Max held her hands up in surrender. "We aren't going to say anything."
Sean sighed in relief. Now that he was calming down, he realized how ridiculous it was to become confrontational and scared. If they had wanted to report him, they easily could have done it inside the gas station.Stupid, he chided himself.
"Thank you," he said instead. His voice cracked, and he felt embarrassed. Like a little kid.
"Here," Max pointed. Up ahead, there sat a tiny bench. Just beyond that, a small park like area. Possibly designed to let children play after a long car ride. Sean nodded and the two sat down. Both companions sat on opposite sides of the bench, giving each other room to breathe.
"You're welcome." Max took out her camera and briefly stopped to capture a photo of children playing. "Warren wanted to do something… drastic," she rambled as she put her cam away. "I convinced him to let it die."
"Thank you." Sean made a mental note to be wary of Warren.
Max shrugged. "You're welcome. It took some doing, and no matter what I said he was still a little ticked. But he won't say anything."
Sean nodded, but he wasn't sure what to say. He was growing tired of his life being put in the hands of strangers. Even if some of them were nice, those that weren't always spelled trouble. Trouble he was tired of dealing with.
"I saw the footage," Max continued, breaking him of his reverie.
"Footage?"
Max gazed at him in surprise. "You don't know?"
"No?" Sean could feel his stomach drop with the ensuing anxiety.
"It's not a big deal," Max quickly added. "The Seattle police released a dashcam on the officer's car that basically played barely heard audio. And then out of nowhere a big gust of wind blows everything over. A wind so powerful it knocks other cars down."
Sean nodded for her to continue. She waited as if to gather her next thoughts. "Warren was more interested in it than I was. He was following the story. How a cop car got blown to the side when it was about to hit a kid. And then he was talking my ear off in San Diego about some devastation at a weed farm a few weeks ago. Apparently you and your brother had something to do with it."
Sean laughed nervously. "Yeah, maybe."
"He was saying that it all seems… odd. Everywhere you go there's some big catastrophe, or at least a close one. And it has the same results. He thought you or your brother might have a superpower or something."
Sean shivered. Did she realize how close she was to the truth? What if she decided to tell everyone? What would happen then, to him and Daniel?
"Well, uh, it's weird. I know, trust me. But Daniel and I don't have superpowers. It's bizarre stuff just happens to us.
Max smiled with a trace of sympathy, and seemingly knowing. She turned her gaze back to the playground. A child Daniel's age had just jumped off of a swing only to be chastised by his father. "Life is funny sometimes." She seemed to hesitate, caught on something she wasn't saying. "You know-"
She was interrupted by a loud chirping sound. She apologized before yanking her phone out of her pocket. She grunted then in aggravation before glancing at the caller ID when answering. Sean turned his attention back to the slide. He pretended that he wasn't listening.
"Yeah... No, we went for a walk…" She sighed, exasperated. "Why does that matter, Warren? Okay… No, it's okay. Yeah, we'll be there soon… I'm sorry too… I love you too. Bye."
Sean shot her a quizzical look. Max frowned back.
"We better go back."
