Backslide

Max awoke in a small cell. She wasn't surprised-Lydecker wouldn't have given her that much freedom in an open room for long. Yet to her utmost dismay, she was back in her uniform, and her abdomen stung like crazy. When she lifted up the corner of her shirt, there was a jagged scar parallel to her previous one. Max let the shirt drop and stiffly stood up.

She was in a room much similar to the one that she had been placed in the first time she had come back. Another cell adjoined hers-separated only by bars and wires. Yet, this time there was no Zack in the opposite cell, just empty space. The wires crackled and zapped outside her cell, high with voltage and ready to destroy if necessary.

A shadow passed by her doorway and paused, drawing Max's attention. Max tried to figure out who it was, but obviously couldn't see through the thick door. The person came closer, the shadow shrinking and becoming more definite. They reached for the door handle, ready to open the door. Max's breath tightened in her sternum, praying that it was Brin or someone who had come to help her.

Unfortunately, there was a crashing noise out in the hallway. The person's head snapped, and they hurried away, as if they didn't want to be caught. Max cursed under her breath, a chance at freedom, lost.

She plopped down on the hard cot. This brought a new pain as Max hit the cot hard, just as she had hit the cement hard as well. She shifted, trying to avoid the bruises. Tenderly, she reached up to touch her nose. The blood had dried, caking her nose in a crimson sheet, and her nose hurt just even touching it. A painful lump had formed on the side on her head where Zack had hit her.

Remembering the anger in Zack's distorted face, she felt her heart twist in pain. He had been standing so close to her, so utterly close, yet a million miles away. The moment his fist collided with her face was a moment that Max would never forget, no matter how hard. She had wanted to wipe the blood of her face, be rid of the evidence that Zack had done it. Yet, she couldn't. The blood had just ran.

Max rose to her feet, hearing her knees crack. She didn't even know if it was night or day, but, in truth, that fact was irrelevant. Staring at the wires, Max wondered if she would be able to get herself past them. Don't be an idiot, she said to herself. You can't survive those wires, let alone getting out of the iron cage you're trapped in.

Slowly, she rested her head on the iron bars, feeling the cold contrast against her own warmth. She let her hands wrap weakly about the bars, barely supporting her. Max wondered what Logan was doing-whether he knew that she was never coming…if he had already forgotten about her. He was right, she thought with an angry sigh, and I was wrong. That's all there is to it.

No! she yelled at herself. Don't start feeling sorry for yourself now. It's not going to help anyone.

Silently, Max closed her eyes, visions of Zack and the others dancing across her mind. Would freedom come?

Max to herself:

Zack, don't think I'm going to give up on you so easily. It's not like you could ever leave to begin with. I know, I really do know, that somewhere inside of you is the Zack I haven't forgotten. The Zack that is good, not evil like this new Zack. Still, I haven't forgotten that old Zack. Perhaps, he may be dead, I don't know. But, I'm not giving up. Besides, it's only a possibility that the old Zack is dead. And I don't deal with possibilities.