Chloe stared vacantly into the glowing tip of her cigarette, feeling like she was sinking, only partially able to pay attention to Max's explanation to David and Karen.
"Really, I'm okay. It was just a really bad flashback – sorry if I scared you." She tried to play it off like it was no big deal, but couldn't hide the tremor in her voice or the way her eyes dodged David and Karen's.
Chloe let the smoke slowly wisp out from between her lips, deliberately forcing her breathing to slow. Max's powers are back. Her visions are back. The storm is back. This is all happening again. She closed her eyes, wishing she'd kept some weed for herself.
They'd gotten Max into a chair, David insisting that they keep an eye on her for a little while to make sure she was alright. He watched with tense, sad eyes as she slowly sipped at the water Karen had brought her. "You girls, Steve, Victoria, Kate, me… we all went through a very traumatic event. PTSD isn't just a military thing, y'know, and the flashbacks can feel very real. You don't have to be sorry."
It was four days last time. Four days. We might not even have that long.
Max nodded and drank more water. "I… I know."
Karen shook her head in disbelief. "A storm like that almost sounds supernatural, like something out of Shakespeare or Greek mythology."
Chloe knew Karen's words were more an idle musing than a suggestion, but they still turned her stomach. Don't tell him about your powers, Max. If he finds out that we might have caused the storm, might've been able to stop it… It would destroy her stepdad, she was sure of it. Even worse if he learned that the only possible solution they'd found was to let his stepdaughter die alone, bleeding out on a cold bathroom floor, still believing the whole universe was out to get her. Maybe it still is. Was this because Max saved them from a car accident? Does the universe really want me dead that fucking bad?
Max stood carefully, leaning into Chloe as she did. "I should really let all of you get to sleep – I didn't mean to keep you up."
"It's not a problem, Max," Karen assured. "We just want to make sure you're alright."
"Try and get some rest. Let us know if you need anything," David added. It looked like he wanted to say something else, but he held it back. Chloe wondered if he suspected Max wasn't telling him the whole truth.
"Thanks."
They parted ways again, Chloe keeping Max close as they headed into the Petersen's house. The bed was already made and they let go of each other just long enough to get out of their dusty clothing. Once they had climbed under the blankets, Chloe wrapped herself protectively around Max, playing the role of big spoon. They lay there unmoving for a few minutes, listening to the darkness around them. There weren't many noises to pick out at first. After a while, though, Chloe could hear the subtle creaks of the house settling, the whisper of a slight breeze against the rough siding, Max's shallow breathing. Crickets chirped intermittently. It almost startled her when the mattress groaned and Max rolled over to face her, burying her head under Chloe's chin.
"Chloe, it wasn't a flashback." Max's words came out airy and scared.
Chloe squeezed her tighter. "I know. Were there any clues as to how long we have?"
"No, not that I saw. But it looked like the storm was going to hit Arcadia Bay again. I don't think the two of us can handle this on our own – we're going to need help."
"That's why you've got your secret weapon," Chloe said, referring to herself. "Let me handle getting us a crew. You just focus on being Super Max."
"Maybe we should tell David."
Chloe scoffed. "Would he even believe us?" She was actually more worried that he would.
"He'd believe you. He believed you about Mister Jefferson."
"A teacher kidnapping and killing students is a bit less far-fetched sounding than visions of the apocalypse."
"You heard him talk about Karen's son's powers. Maybe it wouldn't sound far-fetched at all."
"Yeah, but…" Chloe was running out of excuses.
"But what, Chloe?"
Fine, fuck it. Can't keep dancing around what I'm thinking, I guess. "Max, David's finally moving on with his life. He's only broken his sobriety once in the last four years. If he finds out about your power, that there might have been a different way…"
Max realized what she was saying. "Oh."
"Don't worry, we'll figure something out in the morning. We always do." Chloe brushed a wayward strand of hair out of Max's face. "But for now, we both need to try and get some rest. We won't get very far if I drive off the road because I pass out, right?"
"Yeah." Max turned over again, nestling herself back into the curve of Chloe's body.
While Max slowly fell asleep in her arms, Chloe kept thinking. Maybe we don't need to tell anyone about the vision. But it's not like we have a lot of friends. Shit. Who can we find to help us? What are they even supposed to help us with? Chloe thought about how much Rachel would've been all about an adventure to save the world – or at least a corner of it, even if she'd hated Arcadia Bay – and couldn't help the fleeting smile that crept onto her face. But her former best friend was dead, buried unceremoniously by Mr. Jefferson in a junkyard six months before the storm, and even Max's time travel powers hadn't been enough to bring her back. It was a shame that of all the people caught in the destruction of Arcadia Bay, that creepy fuck was one of the few to survive. Chloe still wished she'd put a bullet in his head. Spending the rest of his life in federal prison seemed like a sweet mercy compared to what he'd done to Rachel and tried to do to Max, Kate, Victoria, and many others. No, she wouldn't shoot him if given the chance again – that would be too easy. He deserved something slower and more painful. Maybe pliers or a blowtorch would be involved. Both?
Stop it. You promised Max you'd try not to dwell on that anymore.
Chloe grumbled tiredly at her conscience. Being angry felt a lot more useful than being sad or scared. But she also knew how easily it could get out of control and make her reckless. Max had been forced to rewind more than a few times to save Chloe from her own hubris, in at least one case going through living hell at the hands of Jefferson himself to do it, maybe even destabilizing time itself enough to bring about the apocalypse for one small town on the Oregon coast.
You seriously need to sleep. Chloe started her breathing exercises, counting off four seconds each as she inhaled, held, and exhaled. It took longer than usual, but soon Chloe drifted off into a restless slumber.
"For all you sleepyheads out there, this next track oughta knock you right out of bed. I'm Steph, and you're listening to KRCT, Haven's one and only radio station."
Steph switched the music back on and muted the mic, peeking out through the sound booth's window at the record shop. No customers yet. Her chair complained as she reclined, taking a moment to stare at the ceiling before grabbing her phone from the desk. Guess it's time to doom scroll. There wasn't much else to do.
Her social media feed brought up the same mundane posts she had seen yesterday, interspersed with ads for things she'd never buy and videos by popular pages she didn't follow or care about. Boredom had set in and Steph was about to close the app when an old picture scrolled into view. She stared at it for a moment. Oh man, she thought, I haven't seen this in years. It was a selfie of Steph and a couple of her college friends at a bar in Cap Hill.
Above the picture and against a brightly colored header, her feed informed her, "You have memories with Chloe Price and 6 others." Curious, she clicked the link to see more.
They say curiosity killed the cat. The picture that came up next should have been a happy memory, but instead just filled Steph's chest with a deep ache. I should've known this was a bad idea. She couldn't remember who had taken the picture. Maybe Mikey's brother Drew. Rachel had been the one to post it, anyway. Chloe, Rachel, and Mikey sat opposite Steph at a picnic table, all four laughing as Rachel threw a pair of dice onto their hand-drawn map. Mikey still had his cast on, the dirty plaster covered in drawings and cringey sayings scribbled on by Chloe. They had thought everything Chloe wrote was so cool back then. It was the only picture of the four of them together.
Maybe you should actually send Chloe a message. She'd thought about it before, but it had been so long. Plus so much had changed.
A knock on the booth's window reverberated through the space. She looked up to find Alex on the other side of the glass who, seeing she'd caught Steph's attention, smiled and gave her a little wave. Steph got up and opened the door, poking her head out. "Hey cutie! Don't you have a bar to run?"
"Ryan's got it covered – it's pretty slow today. I decided to take the morning off, do some errands… pay my favorite local DJ a visit."
"Well I'm flattered," Steph said, giving Alex a cheeky smirk and stepping all the way out of the booth. The door closed softly behind her. "I've got a little bit before the switchboard needs me again." She sniffed the air, one eyebrow arching up. "Wait – do I smell bacon?"
Alex sheepishly produced a paper to-go container from behind her back. "I figured you probably hadn't eaten yet." She held it out for Steph to take.
"Hell yeah! You're the best!" Steph accepted the container and motioned Alex toward the pair of chairs at the front of the restaurant. "Please tell me you brought something for yourself and aren't planning to just watch me eat."
Her visitor let out a soft laugh and rolled her eyes. "No, I thought I would just sit directly across from you and stare silently like a weirdo until you were done." Alex sat down, opening her own container and unwrapping a plastic fork. "Looks like things are slow here, too."
"Yup. Not a lot of people looking to buy records on a Tuesday morning. You're actually the first person through that door since I opened."
Alex stuck her fork into a piece of potato, then frowned and gave Steph a look she knew well. "So… want to talk about it?"
Steph looked down at her fried egg. "Picked up on that, huh?"
"It was hard to miss," Alex said with an apologetic shrug, lowering her voice. "Sorry."
"It's… okay." Steph was still getting used to the fact that her friend could literally see her emotional state and hear any thoughts associated with those emotions. "What do you even say to someone you haven't talked to in that long?"
"Well…" Alex thought for a moment. "You could always just try the standard 'how's it going.'"
"Yeah, I guess. It just seems so…"
"Blasé?"
"Ineffective."
"What do you want to say to her?"
Steph could think of any number of things. "That it's been too long. That I wish we would've talked sooner. That it really hurt when her and Rachel stopped hanging out with us… that Mikey and I miss her."
Alex nodded. "Maybe say that then."
"I dunno. If she wanted to talk, she would've reached out by now, right?"
"Clearly you wanted to talk but haven't reached out yet either." Alex held up her hands, clearly detecting Steph's defenses going up. "Maybe she feels the same way you do and doesn't know what, if anything, to say. There's only one way to find out."
Steph let that sink in for a moment while she ate. Then she had an idea. "Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you ever thought about being a therapist? I think you'd be really good at it." Steph smirked at her and ate another piece of egg.
Alex cackled in disbelief. "Me? Oh hell no."
"C'mon, you're a natural!"
"More like a supernatural. It wouldn't be fair – or ethical."
"Eh, ethical schmethical. Maybe they'd even give you a TV show, rake in the big bucks."
Alex shook her head, trying to reign in her laughter, cheeks turning pink. "I can see the dollar signs in your eyes already. Who would keep you and Ryan out of trouble?"
"Hmm. You raise a good point."
"Maybe if I ever decide to leave Haven Springs," Alex allowed. "But for now, at least, I really like it here. It's quiet. Predictable, even."
The phone in the booth started ringing. Steph devoured her last piece of bacon and stood. "Shit. Duty calls, literally. Meet you at the Black Lantern later?"
Alex smiled understandingly and winked. "You better. Good luck in there."
Steph winked back. "Thanks. See ya."
Back in the booth, the phone stopped ringing right as Steph sat down. Oh well, it was probably about time to get back to work anyway. Checking her list of advertisements, she couldn't decide on one to read after the next few songs.
You're doing it again. Playing DJ and talking music was fun, but Steph realized she was starting to feel like an animal in a cage – a really nice one, with mountains and flowers and streams – but a cage nonetheless. This time, though, she couldn't just dip out in the middle of the night. She wasn't willing to do that to Alex or Ryan.
Chloe's on the road. Maybe she'd like some company – not permanently, but just for a week or two to get the bug out of my system.
She'd have to get someone to run the radio station in her absence. That might be tricky.
You're getting ahead of yourself.
She glanced at her phone.
Fuck it.
Evergreen trees whipped past, their sparse tops a blur against the snow-encrusted peaks looming impossibly large above them. They reminded Max a lot of the Cascade range, closer to where she'd grown up, but somehow the Rocky Mountains felt more removed from civilization.
What Chloe's truck lacked in air conditioning, it more than made up for with its heating system. Max pushed aside the thought that it may have something to do with their beleaguered engine cooking itself to death. The truck had begun to make some irritated noises on each incline as they cruised up State Highway 131 into northwest Colorado.
David wouldn't say it, but Max could tell he'd been disappointed when they told him they had to leave early. They had stayed another night, but left abruptly the following morning. I promise we'll be back soon to go see the Grand Canyon with you, David… if we survive this.
Max glanced at the old GPS fastened to the dashboard. It wasn't much further until they should reach the turnoff for Haven Springs. While Max had originally been the one to suggest they needed help, she admittedly wasn't sure how. Chloe seemed to have some idea, though, which was better than nothing.
The truck started to slowly drift into the shoulder. Looking over at her girlfriend, Max saw Chloe's shoulders had slumped and eyelids were drooping.
"Chloe?"
Their tire hit the rumble strip. "Gah!" Chloe immediately sat bolt-upright and corrected their path, sucking air loudly in through her nose. She stared wide-eyed at the road ahead of them.
"Chloe, I think you need to pull over."
"Nah Max, I'm all good. Just need another smoke." She searched the tangle of sweatshirts on the seat between them with one hand, not looking away from the road. Max found the pack and handed it to her. "Thanks."
"I'm serious. We've still got over an hour left, and the last time we stopped was four hours ago. We could both use a little break. Stretch our legs."
Chloe fumbled with her lighter, mulling it over. Once she finally got flame, she cranked the window open a few inches. Chilly air rushed in through the opening. Chloe sighed, momentarily filling the cab with a cloud of smoke. "Yeah, alright. Guess we should probably fuel up anyway. Find me the nearest gas station, navigator."
They didn't have far to go. Chloe barely had time to finish her cigarette before they pulled off the highway and up to the pump. She grabbed the disposable water bottle from the door pocket, dropping the smoldering butt into the brown water with a subdued hiss. Max zipped up her jacket against the cold before stepping out.
Chloe undid the cap of the auxiliary fuel tank in the truck bed. "Hey, can you grab me like, five or six Chock-O-Crisps when you're in there?"
Max giggled. "You are such a sugar addict."
"That's why I'm so sweet!" Chloe said, smiling innocently. That earned her a snort from Max.
"Sure. Be back in a sec."
Bells jangled as Max entered the convenience store, alerting the station attendant to her presence. The older man gave her a stiff wave before resuming his crossword puzzle.
A van rolled to a stop at the pump next to theirs.
There you are. Max spotted the coffee dispenser near the back of the store and made a beeline for it. She poured two cups – hers the regular medium roast and, after some internal debate, Chloe's from the dispenser marked "Ultra-Buzz." That should keep her awake.
Once acquiring the candy bars, Max headed to the front. The attendant was about to read her total when something caught his eye. He looked out toward the pumps, bushy eyebrows popping up in surprise. "Oh, hell!"
The pump was on fire.
Flames lashed hungrily from the side of the van, already traveling up the outside of the hose. Max ran for the door, looking for the emergency shutoff. Chloe was backing away, grimacing in terror. A thunderclap of hot air blew out the glass, everything through the windows flashing as bright as the sun. Shards cut Max's hands and face as she was knocked to the floor. She tried to get up, looking at where Chloe had been, eyes watery from the heat. Her eyes refocused on a charred figure a few feet further away from the explosion, motionless on the burning ground.
"NO!"
Max held out her hand.
The world froze in place then distorted like damaged film. Her stomach felt like it was doing acrobatics as the events of the last few minutes rushed past in reverse. She found herself back in the passenger seat of the truck.
"Guess we should probably fuel up anyway. Find me the nearest gas station, navigator."
Max tried to calm her breathing, hands shaking so bad her thumbs could barely type into her phone. "Yeah, sure." The words came out as a squeak.
Chloe looked over, cocking her head to one side like a curious bird. "Max?"
She bit her lip and shook her head. "I didn't have a choice."
"…Shit." Chloe slouched back into the seat. Took a long drag. "That bad?"
"That bad."
"Do I even want to know?"
"No."
"Damn."
Max routed them to the same gas station but waited for the van this time before going inside. When the van arrived she directed them to pull in behind Chloe, telling them the other pump wasn't working. She told the same to the attendant, who put out a sign, promising to have someone check it out.
"How'd you know I was craving these!?" Chloe asked excitedly when she saw the Chock-O-Crisps piled on the middle seat. Max passed her the cup of Ultra-Buzz. Her smile dissolved. "Oh. Please tell me I didn't light myself on fire."
"Not exactly."
"Right. I don't want to know."
Max felt sick.
It was almost closing time at the Black Lantern. Steph sat with Chloe and Max at one end of the oak bar, theirs the only voices to reverberate off the hewn stone walls and aged hardwood. Light fixtures made to look like wrought iron always made the place feel like it belonged in the medieval fantasy world of Steph's tabletop games. The three women sipped on their drinks, doing their best to catch up. Ryan stood on the other side of the bar. He poured himself another soda water, still on the clock for a few more minutes. He'd been helping Steph regale her guests with tales of their exploits, saving her from any awkward silences. "So she puts me in the silliest looking serpent hat and sends me out there to fight this kid."
"It wasn't that silly," said Steph. "Better than that fancy apron you're wearing over your flannel right now."
"That's gotta be a crime somewhere, man," Chloe chimed in.
"Ganging up on me already? Damn. I see why you like her so much, Steph." Ryan gave Steph a wink. She punched him in the shoulder, only making his shit-eating grin grow bigger.
One final customer walked up to the other end of the bar to close their tab, receipt in hand. "Gotta do my job," Ryan cheerily proclaimed. "Be right back."
As soon as he was out of earshot, Chloe whispered, "Okay, I mean this in the best way possible – you have to tell me how they transplanted a golden retriever brain into a cute lumberjack's head."
Max almost choked on her drink. She covered her mouth, shoulders shaking as she tried to silence her snickering.
Steph's eyes went wide. "Oh god. How did I never put that together before?"
The trio started to crack up, causing Ryan to look over at Steph with one eyebrow raised. She just smiled back. He kept to counting change.
"Seriously though," added Chloe, letting out one final chuckle, "he seems like a solid dude. I'm glad you found such good friends out here."
"It took a long time, and a lot of dumb mistakes along the way," Steph admitted. "You've probably seen Alex running around here tonight, you'll meet her in a little bit. If it weren't for her, Ryan, and Alex's brother Gabe, I would've moved on from this town months ago."
Max nodded. "It's nice when you find the right group of people, and everything just… kinda falls into place."
Steph was still trying to figure Max out. She seemed to be listening intently to all of their conversations, but had hardly said anything the whole day. Maybe she's just shy. There's nothing wrong with that, I guess. It seemed strange, though. The last time Steph had seen Chloe, she'd been with outspoken, rebellious, downright unpredictable Rachel – pretty much the polar opposite of what Steph had gathered about her current partner.
Chloe gulped down the rest of her beer. "You still talk to Mikey?"
"Yeah, actually! In fact, if you want, we could even try to do a video call with him sometime while you're still here."
Max and Chloe exchanged a somber look.
Steph glanced back and forth between the two of them, not sure what exchange had just happened but certain she didn't like it.
"Steph," Chloe said gingerly, "this is more of a quick stop. We actually really need your help."
"Uh, okay? What's up?" What kind of trouble are they in that they would need help from me?
Ryan was headed back their way but Steph gave him a tiny shake of the head. He held up his hands and changed course, setting off to lock up the bar.
Chloe seemed to struggle with what to say, getting less than a syllable out at a time before stopping herself. Max took over. "There's not a way to say this that's going to make a whole lot of sense, but Arcadia Bay is going to be destroyed again, and we need to figure out how to stop it."
"What?" This has to be some sort of sick joke. Steph thought about her mom, Mikey's brother, at least a dozen others she knew – all killed in the storm. "Chloe, I know you like to pull pranks, but isn't this a little far?"
Chloe seemed bruised by the accusation but kept her cool. "I wouldn't joke about this, Steph."
"Are you drunk already? High? Join some bullshit doomsday cult?"
"No, none of that."
Steph didn't buy it. She stood from her barstool, unable to keep her blood from starting to boil. "Then what is it? You go years with not so much as a text, then try to dredge up one of my worst memories and use it as leverage – for what? What are you getting out of this?"
Steph saw something in Chloe snap as she also leapt to her feet. Max tried to stop her but wasn't quick enough. Chloe jabbed an accusatory finger in her direction. "You weren't even there! You didn't have to watch everything you know get ripped apart right in front of you like we did! And clearly you didn't give enough of a shit until now, if that's why you think I didn't reach out!"
Steph felt like she'd been slapped.
Ryan hurried over. "Hey, what's going on?"
Chloe's voice broke. "You don't have to live with the guilt of knowing that maybe, if you'd done things different, if you'd been less of a fuck-up…" She couldn't continue, her outburst crumbling away. It looked like she might collapse.
Alex stepped out of the bathroom she'd been cleaning. Steph saw her wince, almost being physically pushed back by the high emotions she was absorbing from the room.
"What do you mean, if you'd have done things different?" Steph tried to calm herself down so her anger wouldn't spread to Alex. The survivor's guilt that always lurked just below the surface trickled into its place. It was apparent that Chloe hadn't processed what had happened to their hometown any better – maybe to the point of delusion. She sat down again, gesturing for Chloe and Max to join her. "It was a hurricane, Chloe, and it came out of nowhere. Last I checked, none of us control the weather."
"I know this is going to sound crazy, but it didn't come out of nowhere." Max locked eyes with Steph. Her words were shaky, scared – but there was a certain conviction behind them.
Alex spoke up. "Everything okay over here?" Everyone redirected their focus toward her as she approached cautiously. She sized them up from behind large, circular-framed glasses. "Hi, I'm Alex. You must be Chloe and Max?" Her narrow smile came off more nervous than anything.
Chloe rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed, and extended a hand. "That's us. I'm Chloe."
"And I'm Max. Sorry, we didn't mean to cause a scene."
Alex rushed to get one of her rubber gloves off, having to set down her spray bottle first. She shook both of their hands. "Believe me, I've caused far worse in this place," Alex said with an awkward chuckle. "Let's go up to the roof, get some fresh air. Then we can keep talking about this."
Steph let out a reluctant sigh. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea." There she is, always the peacemaker.
They followed Alex up two flights of stairs to a rooftop garden, complete with white-painted metal patio furniture. An intermittent breeze, carrying the chill of the coming fall, whispered the leaves against each other and coaxed soft tones from the multitude of windchimes Alex had hung. The craggy horizon jutted ink-black into the starry sky. It was one of Steph's favorite views, and the private drinking spot of Alex, Ryan, and herself. They each took a chair.
Chloe lit up one of the joints she'd bought earlier that day, letting the smoke soak into her lungs before slowly expelling it. "Steph… me going off on you was hella not cool." She held out the joint and her lighter as a sort of peace offering.
Steph didn't say anything at first, only giving in after a few tense seconds. "I didn't exactly make the situation any better." She took one large drag and gave the joint back. "But how did you expect me to react? I still don't get how you know another storm is coming."
"You… actually believe us?"
"I believe that you believe what you're saying. Anything beyond that? Convince me." Steph looked at her expectantly.
"Well, uh, I don't exactly have proof. Not that would make a whole lotta sense right now, anyway."
Alex seemed distracted, examining Max from a distance. It didn't appear that Chloe or Max had noticed. Beside Chloe, Max shifted uncomfortably. Steph wondered what thoughts and emotions Alex could read off of the two of them.
"Woah. Holy shit." Alex stood.
Ryan rose to join her. "What? You okay?"
"I'm alright." Slowly, Alex approached Max. "Max, they're different than yours, but I have powers too. They let me see what people are feeling and thinking, almost like an aura glowing around them."
What's Alex saying? Chloe's girlfriend has powers too?
Max looked like a deer caught in headlights. "What am I feeling right now?"
"You're scared," Alex soothed. "It's like a purple cloud emanating from you. Scared that we won't believe you, or that if we do believe you it might be worse. But you don't have to be scared – you can trust us."
Max looked around, unsure. Finally she admitted, "I can control time."
After a few seconds, Ryan brought a fist up to his mouth, glaring into the darkness as he tried to make sense of what he'd just heard. "Wait. You can control… time? Just however and whenever, or are there limits?"
"There are a few limits. I can only rewind a minute or two at a time, usually, and pushing that gives me headaches and nosebleeds." Max pursed her lips before adding, "Sometimes I just… jump back a few minutes, without meaning to."
Steph shook her head. "That's insane. I thought Alex was the only one with powers."
With a shrug, Alex said, "Same."
"I did too, until a couple days ago. You're the first other person with powers I've actually met, but there are more of us out there."
"Chloe, can I have a hit off that?" Ryan asked. He didn't usually smoke pot. Chloe relinquished the joint to him, and he took a couple puffs before passing it back. "Is there some way you can prove it?" he asked between coughs.
"She proved it to me," said Chloe. "We were at my mom's diner, and she was able to predict all these tiny, weird-ass details – shit there's no way she could've just guessed."
Max continued, "That was before we knew there were consequences to rewinding frequently – maybe rewinding at all."
Steph had grown fairly sure she didn't want the answer, but asked, "What kind of consequences?"
Pain tightened Max's face as she turned to Chloe, who grasped her hand tight. "The kind that might have caused the storm that destroyed Arcadia Bay."