Max lifted her head from her arms covered in a blue shirt, as Original Cindy babbled in the background about proper care of her skin. Max, bored with the discussion, had been struggling to stay awake so that it looked like she maintained some interest in the conversation, but it was difficult.
But, now, she was wide-awake, rising slowly to her feet, and trying to make sure that her senses were correct. If she was wrong, a mistake could be fatal.
Again, she paused, listening for it. Yes, it as there. God, something was wrong. Instantly, she realized what was the problem. Logan. Trouble.
Not even bothering to grab her glasses that she usually wore while riding on her motorcycle, she flew out the door, managing, at least, to remember her jacket. Original Cindy paused her breathless speech, and said nothing, shocked beyond belief.
Ever since she had escaped from Manticore, Max discovered that she had a "sixth sense". Whenever someone she cared about was in trouble, she would know it. There had been very few people with whom she felt this sense. So far, the people consisted of any other X5s, Original Cindy, and Logan.
And now, with the dull thud in her ears like a heartbeat, but far more dangerous, Max felt her palms go sweaty against the handlebar of her bike, and her vision would occasionally blur. What was so wrong that it was literally causing her pain just to think about it?
She arrived at Logan's building in a flurry of sound and dust, and she noticed that nothing appeared to be disturbed. Max almost breathed a sigh of relief to see that there wasn't a fire, or guns, or even Godzilla. Almost. For trouble could still brew beneath the surface.
As Max entered the computer room inside Logan's penthouse, she didn't have time to inspect the area for any signs of distress. She froze upon hearing a noise, and dashed behind the ice cube wall. Was someone there? Who was it?
A shadow formed behind the crystal wall, and Max stiffened instinctively. Logan? Are you walking? Yet, when the shadow walked with slow, easy steps as they had been doing so all their life, Max knew it wasn't Logan.
She had to see who it was-waiting would help no one. So, she peeked around the corner and saw that the person was out of her glancing range of vision. She would have to confront them head on. Max stepped forward, ready to enter the computer room, when she came face to face with the stranger.
"Zack!" she cried, startled.
He looked as equally as confused as she did. "Max? Why are you here?"
"I could ask you the very same question. Where's Logan?"
"Logan?" he echoed, as if he wasn't sure what she had asked.
"Yes, Logan. Where is he, Zack?"
Zack turned away from her, looking dully at the computer where Logan Cale had sat only minutes earlier. Dressed in his typical black leather jacket, with a faded pair of blue jeans and a brown shirt, Zack wasn't sure how to tell Max the truth of what had gone on.
"Zack?" Max asked, impatient with waiting for him to get his mind in the right place.
Slowly, he came to face her, and the image of she and Logan on the floor, kissing, came back, and a new feeling developed inside of him. "He's gone," Zack hollowly replied.
"Gone? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Forget about him."
"No."
Zack sighed. "I saw them take him-"
"And you didn't help?"
"What good would it have done? None. Forget about him, because he's not coming back. Not coming back alive and mentally sane, anyhow."
"Who has him?"
Zack turned away, ignoring her question and ready to leave. In a flash, Max had him pinned against the wall. Amused with her weak attempt, he gently shoved her away, not wanting to physically hurt her.
Max though, didn't back down even though she had been pushed back. "Tell me," she bit.
He looked out the window, as if listening to the silence, then back at her. "Lydecker," he stated flatly.
