The fire crackled, sparks flitting from the dancing flames and disappearing into the stars above. Max watched them, entranced, an exhausted numbness in her lips and fingertips as she sat crisscross at the edge of the fire's glow. The pool of light was pale orange dot against the endless darkness of the surrounding desert. Her thoughts whirled like the floating embers. Unlike the embers, however, her thoughts were snuffed out by her own need not to think them rather than by the laws of thermodynamics.
Get out of my head, Warren.
She huffed a half-hearted attempt at a laugh through her nose, a smile threatening to curl up the corners of her mouth. Been a while since I've thought about you, old friend.
Chloe stopped rummaging behind her and slammed the tailgate of her truck, the old metal hinges letting out a squeaking groan. "Always forget how fucking cold it gets here at night," she grumbled. She draped a blanket over Max's shoulders, one of the scratchy, fake wool ones they'd picked up at a convenience store what felt like a century ago.
Max heard her girlfriend rustling around in an attempt to get comfortable on the rocky ground before gently bumping her shoulder into Max's. Normally she would've returned the gesture, but not tonight. Chloe scooted in close to Max and tugged at the edge of the blanket.
"Care to share, hippie?"
Max lifted the side of the blanket closest to Chloe like a bird lifting its wing and she tucked herself under it. After a few seconds Max heard the familiar sound of crinkling plastic as Chloe undid the twist tie sealing their bag of marshmallows.
"You, uh, want me to make you one?" Chloe asked, concern bending her voice lower and quieter. "There's two left."
"Chloe, I… I don't know," Max replied, barely above a whisper.
Max could feel Chloe examining her, but couldn't stomach looking her in the eyes just yet.
You need to tell her.
Chloe's arms popped back out of the blanket and she impaled both marshmallows on the forked end of their roasting stick before holding them over the fire.
"You've been acting weird this whole trip. What's wrong? You're not finally getting tired of me, are you?" Chloe joked, though Max thought she heard a tinge of something raw and scared just beneath the surface.
"No, no of course not!" she blurted, not wanting Chloe to think that for even a second. "I could never get tired of you."
"Then what's going on?"
Max turned to Chloe and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She closed it. Swallowed. Tried again, the words still sticking in her throat. She rubbed her eyes with her thumb and index finger, taking a deep breath through her nose and letting it out through her mouth.
The sound of the wind, ripping, howling, wailing like the souls of the damned. Like it was pulling apart the universe by the seams.
"Hey, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it right now—"
"It's happening again."
Chloe's brow twisted in confusion. "What's happening again?"
"You know how I yelled at you not to blow that stop sign two days ago?" Max said, voice trembling slightly.
"Yeaaaah? Good call, Super Max. That douche came out of nowhere." Her eyes grew wide. "Wait, are you saying…"
"I jumped again. It wasn't on purpose; I saw the car coming at the last second and it just… happened."
Chloe's delayed response was a simple, overwhelmed, "Oh."
They both turned back to stare at the fire, which began to blur as Max's eyes welled up with tears. The dam had been near bursting for a while, and she couldn't hold it back any longer. "Chloe, I can't do this again! I don't want this stupid power looming over me anymore – what if I break time again!? What if this time it's worse?"
"Look," Chloe said sternly, "we still don't know for sure if that's what caused the storm."
"What if it's not a town this time – a city, a county? A state? Everything!? It's been four years! Why is it back now?" Max was beginning to hyperventilate. She felt like she was about to throw up, that imaginary walls were closing in. Her vision began to tunnel. She felt like she was inside the storm, spinning and spinning, faster and faster.
Chloe dropped the marshmallow stick and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, squeezing her tight. Max began to sob into her shoulder. "Shh-shhhh. It's gonna be okay."
"Is it?"
"It is." Chloe gently lifted Max's chin and wiped away her tears with one thumb. "It always will be, as long as we have each other."
The fire beside them suddenly got brighter.
Cloe looked over. "Shit! Shit shit shit!"
The unattended marshmallows were on fire. Chloe snatched up the stick from the ground and began to flail it around in a poorly thought-out attempt to extinguish it, only making the flames bigger. Max grabbed her wrist and took the stick, then blew the marshmallows out. "I… I think it's done, Chloe." She sniffled.
They relaxed into silence again and Chloe pulled the less burnt one off, handing it to Max. As Chloe grabbed the other and popped it into her mouth, she let out a single chuckle. Max followed suit, and soon they were laughing quietly together like a pair of idiots.
"Shmartassh," Chloe managed to garble through a mouthful of marshmallow.
Max finished eating hers. "Pyromaniac."
"Nerd."
"Dork." Max nestled her head into Chloe's shoulder. The perfume of stale cigarette smoke, motor oil, and sweat that Chloe perpetually wore these days grew stronger in Max's nose. Even a few months ago, the smell would've bothered her. Now it was one of the few things that felt like home. She felt a bit more at ease, even if she didn't entirely believe Chloe was right and it would all be okay. "I love you."
"I love you too, you sap," Chloe replied. She carefully extracted a cigarette from its pack with her teeth and lit it, taking a deep drag before lazily breathing the cloud of smoke into the night. Max watched out of the corner of her eye as the cigarette smoldered between Chloe's fingers.
"Hey. Can I have a hit?"
Chloe handed it over. Max didn't usually smoke, but Chloe had gotten used to her needing a little bit of nicotine whenever she got particularly stressed. Max drew the smoke into her lungs, coughing almost immediately.
Patting Max on the back like she was burping a baby, Chloe smirked at her. "You're gonna give yourself cancer if you keep this habit up."
"Says the chimney." Max passed the cigarette back.
Chloe snorted. "How original."
Max leaned over to give Chloe a quick peck, but found she didn't want it to be over so quickly. Chloe's lips, sticky and sweet from the marshmallow, pressed into hers as she returned the kiss. After a few seconds, they pulled away just enough that they could lock eyes. Chloe was the first to break contact, looking away and blushing.
"Fuck off," she said in mock irritation, struggling to keep a smile from breaking out on her face.
Max giggled. "Rude. Why?"
"Even after all this time, you still make me melt like a damn popsicle."
"D'awww. Who's the sap now?"
"Shut up." They kissed again. "C'mon, it's time for bed. We've got a hella long drive ahead of us tomorrow."
The truck was like a convection oven, hot air blasting into the open windows as they sped down the dusty highway. With all the other repairs they were constantly having to do, they hadn't had the time or money to fix the AC. Chloe still refused to part with the bucket of bolts. Even when they'd been laid up in an Alabama hotel for a week while a local shop welded the cracked frame back together, Max hadn't been able to convince her. That was one of few real arguments they'd had since hitting the road together. It was also a subject Max hadn't dared to broach again.
She peered out at the desert passing by. Stout cacti and imposing formations of red rock stuck out of the sand like darts from a dartboard, much more interesting than the stretches of nothingness that had been much of Nevada. Max fished her camera from the bag between her feet, lined up the viewfinder with a particularly unique formation, and took the shot. Moments later, the camera dispensed the photo into her hand.
"I think you snap a pic of that same rock each time we come through here," Chloe said from the driver seat.
"No way! Isn't this our first time taking this route?"
Chloe grinned and kept her eyes on the road from behind cheap, gas station sunglasses. "You're really cute. You know that, right?"
"Ha ha. Okay, fine. It looks a little familiar."
Chloe's grin just got bigger.
Max kept watching Chloe drive, trying not to be too obvious about it. Chloe's hair fluttered in the wind from beneath the red bandana she wore in place of a beanie these days, mostly back to its natural strawberry blonde but still with the last vestiges of blue-faded-green at the tips. What likely amounted to thousands of hours on the road had tanned her formerly pale skin and faded her tattoos, and the edges of her earlobes always seemed a step away from sunburnt, as did her nose. Chloe wore it all in a manner befitting of the traveler image she'd always wanted. Max didn't feel she herself was quite there yet, but had gone through a similar metamorphosis – her hair had been sun bleached to a much lighter auburn, and the once subtle freckles across her cheeks, nose, and shoulders were now considerably more distinct.
"I see you eyeballing me," Chloe playfully remarked.
"Just admiring." Max propped her elbow on the edge of the window, supporting her head with that hand.
Chloe glanced over. "Like what you see?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Max taunted.
There was still a pit in the bottom of her stomach warning her to worry, but she forced it down. This was where they were supposed to be happy – them, the road, and a beat up old pickup. Nowhere to go but everywhere, nothing behind them and everything ahead – though this time they did have a destination. While we're quoting Kerouac she thought, realizing the radio station they had been tuned to had long since faded to static, as he said, the only truth is music. Max began to adjust the tuning knob, hoping to pick up something good. She grimaced as a sickeningly saccharine old country song began to crackle over the truck's weary speakers. As she was about to keep seeking, Chloe reached out and put her hand over Max's to stop her.
"Wait, don't you dare change stations."
"I thought you hated country?"
"Not this song." Chloe began to earnestly mumble along to the lyrics, and Max let her experience whatever moment she was having. A bittersweet smile crept onto Chloe's lips as they kept moving to form the words. She seemed to choke on some of the lyrics, momentarily overcome by emotion or memory of something that seemed familiar but Max couldn't place, but quickly regained her footing each time until the song was done.
"Alright DJ, that was my one song request," Chloe quietly relented. "Back to you."
Max obliged but kept an eye on her girlfriend. They didn't say anything else until they reached their penultimate stop for the day. The pickup rumbled off Route 93 and into the grocery store's parking lot. They squeaked to a stop in the closest available spot to the door.
Both women stepped out onto the blistering-hot pavement. "You get the ice and the drinks, I'll find the meat and snacks. Meet you at the register?"
"Aye aye, captain," Chloe agreed with a salute. "Get me more marshmallows while your in there – and some cereal."
Max threw up finger guns as they parted ways. "You got it."
Max breathed in a sigh of relief as she entered the store, the miracle of air conditioning chilling the sweat beading on her face and soaking into the back of her shirt. It didn't seem to matter how long they spent in the heat, she still couldn't seem to acclimate out of the much more temperate Pacific Northwest, where her and Chloe had grown up. She grabbed a basket and made quick work of her task, only pausing to make sure she picked out the best looking steaks from the sparse selection. It didn't take Chloe long to catch up, balancing a bag of ice on top of four 12-racks. She peeked over the top at Max.
"Think this is enough?" asked Chloe, voice strained.
"OMG, you can ask for help, you know!" Max said, getting ready to set her basket down to lend a hand.
"Nah dude, I'm all good… as long as we get to the checkout stand quick."
"Let's do that, then."
They offloaded their loot onto the belt. Max pulled a wad of cash from her pocket and began counting out bills as the bored cashier read back the total.
"Shit's hella expensive these days," Chloe grumbled as they left with their groceries.
Max nodded. "Good thing our trip through the Badlands paid off."
"Yeah, those prairie dog pics went fast. I even thought about buying one to put on the dashboard to keep me company for when you fall asleep."
"Hey! That's not – actually, I guess that's valid. Just so long as you don't get one of those talking stuffed animals."
Chloe held up a hand and shook her head vehemently. "Nuh-uh. Hell no. Those things freak me out." She climbed into the truck bed and opened their cooler, tossing the big bag of cubed ice into the bottom before motioning for Max to start handing her things. The cooler wasn't impervious to the heat, but it should keep their food at a reasonable temperature for the remaining couple hours of their drive.
They pulled back onto the road and looped toward I-40, which would take them further east. The sun was behind them now, beating in through the back window, baking the torn pleather of the bench seat between them. Overall, though, the heat was a little less intrusive.
As the road stretched on, Max began to slip back into her own head. The questions and ideas were all well tread, but she hadn't touched them in years. Maybe the jump was just a one-time thing, a reaction to her startled fear. And maybe one or two instances wouldn't lead to anything catastrophic. After all, she'd really gone overboard with her rewind in that week before Arcadia Bay was destroyed by the storm, changing time for even the smallest of inconveniences. Was it just too much for the universe to even out all at once? Or maybe Chloe was right and the storm had nothing to do with her time-skipping. But if not that, then what? Would the storm have still come knocking if she'd sacrificed Chloe? There was no way to know, not without doing it which, even if possible, was entirely out of the question.
"That song I wouldn't let you skip earlier," Chloe interjected, disrupting the sense of doom beginning to weigh on Max's shoulders, "was my dad's favorite song. The country station out of Tillamook used to play it all the time, and we'd belt it out at the top of our lungs."
"I'm surprised you've never mentioned that before."
Chloe shrugged. "That's the first time it's come on since we left Oregon."
"I still remember finding the stacks of country records Joyce hid from William in your attic."
Chloe's smile faltered almost imperceptibly. She kept looking straight ahead. "It was the only thing they ever really fought over. My mom always said she hated when the two of us would go all 'car karaoke' to his music, but I think she secretly missed it after he was gone."
Max put a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder. Understandably, Chloe would probably never completely get over the death of both her biological parents, William at the hands of an inattentive logging truck driver, Joyce while trying to offer shelter to anyone she could, ending up buried under the rubble after the diner was torn apart by the storm.
Chloe forced a chuckle. "Funny that David likes most of the same music as my dad did," she mused, referring to her stepdad. "I hated him for so long, for trying to take my dad's place."
"In all fairness, he also was a dick." Max reminded her.
"True. Now look at us though – driving ten hours in one day to see him, bringing him steak and nonalcoholic beer. Him inviting the two of us for a trip to the Grand Canyon, and me looking forward to it?"
"Things do sometimes get better, Chloe."
"I know." She turned her smile toward Max, moving her sunglasses to the top of her head. "You remember that too, m'kay?"
"Yeah, I will."
The sun had sunk even lower in the sky, casting golden light over the pink-orange sands surrounding the community of Away. It blazed from the windows of the Petersen's house and gleamed from the edges of Joan's sculptures, formed from salvage bolted and welded together however she saw fit. One of them towered above the rest, a strange combination of snowman and wireframe globe with three articulated arms jutting from a cylinder perched atop the rest of the amalgam. It had been new last time Chloe and Max had visited, apparently masterminded by Karen's kids two years ago when they'd stopped in. Max didn't quite get it, but if it made Joan happy that was all that mattered.
Away itself was little more than a series of trailers arrayed around the one actual house and an old windmill, its narrow-spaced blades defying decades of rust and neglect to rotate lazily with the breeze. The truck bumped down the road that was little more than packed ruts in the hard sand past the front of the Petersen's house. Stanley and Arthur Petersen waved at the two women from the table beneath their rainbow flag, mugs of coffee perpetually clutched in their other hands. Max and Chloe waved back, grinning at the couple. They pulled up to David's tiny Airstream. It looked like no one was home.
Stanley and Arthur meandered over as Max and Chloe hoisted the cooler from the bed of the pickup, rushing the last few feet to lend a hand.
"Oh, it's okay, but thank you," Max tried to say but found the cooler taken from her anyway.
"Nonsense." Stanley smiled warmly at her, deepening the crows feet radiating from the corners of his eyes. "You two have been driving for hours – we haven't done anything useful all day. Isn't that right?"
Arthur pretended to be taken aback at the accusation. "Hey I did something useful. I changed out the grounds and made us a fresh pot just in time for our guests to get here."
Stanley shot Arthur an unamused look over top of his glasses. "That hardly counts, honey."
Chloe jumped down from the tailgate. "That counts in my book. Cool if I go pour myself some?"
"You know you don't have to ask," Arthur chided good-naturedly. "Help yourselves – there should be a couple clean mugs close by. We'll get this inside."
"Hell yeah. Oh – have you seen my step-dad?"
"He and Karen should be back from town soon."
As they headed toward the house, Arthur added, "The guest room is all set up for you, and we left some fresh towels on the counter. Let us know if there's anything else you need."
"You two are the best. Thank you," said Max before joining Chloe at the nearly overflowing coffee pot. Chloe handed her a full mug and filled another, setting it down long enough to light up.
"You know what? I've missed this place."
Max sat down at the table, glad to be in the shade. "Me too."
"Ever thought about…" Chloe rubbed the back of her neck nervously and puffed on her cigarette. "Ah, no, that's stupid."
"Thought about what?"
"Well, y'know, like… settling down? I mean not really settling down, more like finding someplace to go back to when we want a break from the road. Someplace… our own."
Max put her hand over her heart and gasped. "Chloe Price! Are you actually asking me to move in with you?"
"Shut up hippie," she shot back, the smoke making zigzags in the air as she gestured frustratedly. "Don't act like we haven't been sharing hotel beds and a tiny tent most of our whole adult lives." Chloe stared at some unknown point in the distance and sipped from the mug.
"Yes."
Chloe froze, then turned her head and locked Max's gaze. "Yes?"
"Yes! Did you really expect me to say no?"
"Um, I mean, I wasn't really sure," she mumbled back, now watching her foot as she kicked idly at the deck. "It's just seeing the Petersens, and being able to come back here whenever we want – it's nice, y'know? But it'd be nicer if it was our own."
Max got up from the table and wrapped her arms around Chloe. "It would. But let's not move to the desert – too hot."
"Right."
They leaned in, lips almost touching as the screen door flew open. Chloe's eyes bugged out, startled as if she'd been caught red-handed. Realizing he was interrupting, Arthur began to tiptoe back into the house, pulling the door shut as he retreated. "Oops, sorry. I'll give you ladies a moment."
"No no, it's okay," Max reassured. She gave Chloe a quick smooch and returned to her seat. Chloe sat down beside her and Arthur joined them after topping off his mug.
"Still no sign of your stepdad?"
"Not yet."
"Hmmph." Arthur scanned the desert for any telltale dust plumes. He scratched at the short, gray hair lining his jaw.
"Hey!" shouted a voice from across the road. "Is that a pair of scallywags I spy in the distance?"
"Joan!" Chloe shouted back. "Get your ass over here! I brought you some of the good stuff from up north."
"Don't have to tell me twice!" Joan walked gingerly over, trying not to irritate her joints any more than they clearly were already. Chloe ran back to the truck and returned a moment later with three resealable bags full of weed. Joan took them in the palm of her hand and flipped through them like they were folders in a file cabinet, stopping to read the names of each strain scribbled on the outside in permanent marker. "Harlequin – good choice." She let out a raspy burst of laughter. "Gorilla Glue Number Four? What in the hell is that?"
"Save that for right before bed. Trust me," Chloe warned with a sheepish smirk.
"Sounds like. Thank you, Chloe."
"No prob."
The sound of an approaching car wafted over the desert. In the distance, Max saw a blue SUV racing toward them, kicking up a large cloud of dust behind it. Everyone else turned to look as Karen drove into the town and parked next to Chloe's truck. She'd barely cut the engine when David hopped out. His eyes lit up as he strode quickly toward them then slowed, tensing and looking unsure. "Hey Chloe. Max."
They met him halfway. Chloe enthusiastically threw her arms around David, and he seemed to relax.
"Still haven't gotten rid of that stupid ponytail?" she asked as they separated.
He chuckled. "I've missed you, sweetie."
"I've missed you too, pops."
Turning to Max, David also offered her a hug. She happily obliged.
Karen got out of the car and opened the back hatch, passing out full paper bags as everyone gathered to collect their groceries. She started to hand one of David's bags to Max but quickly changed her mind. "Shit, almost ruined your surprise."
"My surprise?"
She flashed Max a sly smirk and winked, putting the bag back and selecting another. "Here. Take this one instead."
It was still odd to see how close David and Chloe had gotten. Max gently moved a handful of small electronics and a soldering iron out of the way before setting the groceries down on his workbench. The trailer was just as cluttered as ever, broken electronics taking up any available inch of horizontal space. They were all in various states of repair. Many had sticky notes stuck to them, detailing what work had been done, parts used, and the name and phone number of the owner. Polaroids – a hobby Max had gotten him into – were stuck to the walls in clusters of three or four. All of them were of the friends he'd surrounded himself with enjoying life. Some of them were even kind of artsy.
Max smiled. You really have changed, David.
As if summoned by the thought, David and Chloe joined her in the cramped space. Within a couple minutes, the trio had everything put away and headed back out to join the others. Arthur and Stanley had already pulled out their grill and set the charcoal alight.
Chloe gulped down the last, warm dregs of her beer. Only her, Karen, David, and Max remained, gathered on Karen's porch, telling stories of the last year in hushed voices. Bugs flitted silently around the singular, sulfur-yellow light. The heat was fading as quickly as the sun had. Max cuddled up to Chloe's side, consolidating their warmth. Chloe thought about grabbing a blanket or their sweatshirts from the truck, but didn't want to ruin how perfect everything felt by breaking physical contact for even a moment.
"Heard anything from your sons lately?" Chloe asked Karen.
She nodded. "Daniel sent me a postcard. I guess his friend Chris' dad took him and Chris camping, and they stopped at Crater Lake on the way back."
"That's really sweet," Max said sleepily, readjusting how she was sitting so she could grab her beer from the table.
"It was," Karen agreed with a smile. "I'm glad he found such a good friend. Sean… well, he still has thirteen years left."
Chloe let out a sad sigh. "Shit, Karen. That really sucks. No chance for early parole?"
"Unfortunately, that is his parole date."
"Damn. Still can't believe they'd sentence a sixteen-year-old for that long."
"Yep. Tried as an adult, which I guess he actually is now."
Chloe wasn't sure she should ask, but the curiosity was gnawing at her. "I never really heard the whole story of what happened."
"A cop shot their dad – my ex-husband – in Seattle. Long story short, the cop ended up dead and they ended up on the run. They almost made it to Mexico, too. But Sean gave himself up so Daniel could have a chance at actually having a childhood."
"Wait, so that was them?" Chloe asked, remembering the articles about the shooting and the protests. "I didn't realize. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It isn't exactly something we broadcast to everyone," Karen reassured
David put his hand on Karen's shoulder and they looked at each other, clearly having some sort of unspoken debate. Apparently, David came out ahead.
"The cop's death was an accident," David began. "When Daniel saw their dad get shot, it triggered something in him. Awoke it, maybe. By the time he and Sean had made it here, he'd learned to control it."
"What do you mean it awoke something in him?" Max asked nervously.
David's eyes settled on Max. "Daniel has… powers. He could move things with his mind. Telekinesis, I guess you'd call it."
"Telekinesis, huh? That sounds like one hell of a peyote trip," Chloe tried to deflect.
"Look, I know how crazy that sounds. But I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."
Karen nodded. "It's true."
"Max, are you doing alright?" David asked. "You look really pale."
Chloe peered down at her girlfriend. She was clearly starting to have another panic attack. Fuck.
"Yeah, uh, she's fine," Chloe covered, helping Max up from her chair. "Just zonked out from being in the sun for so long today. I should probably get her to bed."
"Okay," David said, eyebrows scrunching low in concern. He probably realized there was more to it than that but knew better than to push. "Make sure she gets some water, too, yeah?"
"Will do. Have a good night pops; Karen." Chloe started to lead Max back toward the Petersen's.
"Goodnight," Karen called after them, sounding just as worried as David.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Chloe hissed into Max's ear, "Hey, I'm right here. We're okay. You good?" There was no response. "Max?" Max's eyes had glazed over, like she was in a completely different world. It wasn't the first time Chloe had seen that, and suddenly it felt like an icy hand was grabbing the inside of her chest. Chloe shook Max's shoulders and they both dropped to their knees in the sand. "Max! Max, wake up!"
David and Karen ran over and helped her support Max. "Chloe! What's going on?" her stepdad barked, the stress momentarily kicking him back into his drill sergeant voice.
Suddenly Max snapped back into full consciousness, taking a second to figure out that she was back in the real world. Her eyes immediately teared up as she clung to Chloe. "Oh no! No no no – it's back!" Chloe didn't immediately respond, rubbing Max's back with open palms, trying to shove her own panic back into its box.
David's tone was gentle again as he hesitantly asked, "What's back, Max?"
Max gulped, unable to look at him as she replied, "The storm."
