Chapter 2

Max soon composed her self enough to go back to her normal routines without Alec. But even a week later, after reading the article over and over, that name still bothered her. The next Saturday, Max was sitting in Crash (which had declared itself transgenic friendly, and had only not been attacked because of the knowledge of the number of transgenics that were generally around and would no doubt fight back) when Logan arrived to find her sitting alone and looking very annoyed.

"You ok?" He asked, taking a seat opposite her.

"Yeah." She said, letting out a frustrated breath.

"You've seemed a little on edge ever since…" Logan began. Max raised her eyebrows, a look Logan knew all too well.

"Since Alec left?" She finished. Logan nodded. Max laughed shortly. "The morning he went I read this." She told him, passing him a print out of the article. Logan read it, and looked up, nonplussed.

"So… that's good."

"Yeah, I know, but we've never heard of her before, she's popped out of no where." Max knew that was a lame excuse to be interested, but she'd nearly convinced herself that that was what was getting at her.

"Max… so what? That's good."

"I know." Max sighed, giving in. "I don't know what bugs me so much about that name. She laughed inwardly as she wondered if Logan would start analysing it like a piece of evidence, maybe fiddling with the order of the letters, working out anagrams… Max's thought train was cut as she grabbed the paper back from Logan and began frantically scribbling by the woman's name. When she stopped, she had a wide eyed, unbelieving look on her face.

"Max?" Logan queried.

"Just had to make sure." Max murmured, before jumping up and leaving before Logan could so much as speak. Logan picked up the paper she'd abandoned on the table. Under the name, many letters of which had been crossed off systematically, was written,

Lucy Barrett

Logan gaped at the name, before quickly following Max's path to the exit.

            Max parked her bike outside the offices of the 'Seattle Post', and proceeded to tie back her hair and don a pair of prescription-less glasses she often used for disguises. She straightened her jacket, then on a second thought removed it, knowing all media footage of her (this was very scarce, and her face had not yet been shown, but it didn't hurt to be careful.) would have shown this jacket. She entered the reception area in her dark blue long sleeved T-shirt with a v-neck, and went straight to the desk.

            "Hi, I'm looking for Betty Clurra." She said. The pudgy, red-faced receptionist replied in the sort of tone used for recorded answering service messages.

            "I'm sorry. Miss Clurra is freelance, and you shall have to contact her through her outside number."

            "Yeah, look, don't you have some way I can contact her?"

            "I'm sorry. Miss Clurra is…" She repeated, and Max shot her a suspicious glance wondering if she was in fact a robot and this was really a recorded message. Max rolled her eyes and walked out. She flipped open her phone, dialled a number, and moments later Logan answered.

            "Max. Hi, that name, is it…"

            "Find out how I can contact Betty Clurra, Logan." She interrupted. "Please." The latter was added as an afterthought.

            "Sure thing, but…"

            "Call me when you have something, ok?" Max hung up without waiting for a reply. She was preoccupied with trying to work out how she could find her faster. The phone rang, and Max flipped it open automatically. "Yep."

            "I was going to say, I already did." Logan said in a slightly annoyed voice."

            "Oh." She replied, put out.

            "She lives at 93 Market street. You know where that is?"

            "Logan. I'm a friggin bike messenger. Of Course I know… Thanks, Logan."

"It's nothing. But is she…"

"We'll talk later." They said their goodbyes, and hung up. Max paused for a second to sigh. There had been an odd atmosphere between her and Logan for quite a while now, since they finally agreed that it really was for both of their own good for them to remain 'just friends' and to move on. But in general, Max had not been aware that she had until last week. She had very mixed emotions about her night with Alec, from anger at him, to blissful pleasure, to anger at herself for doing that when she knew it could only do harm when he was leaving the next day. But never once had she felt guilt. And it was when she realised this that she realised that she and Logan were truly history.

            Max sighed once more, and mounted her bike, removing the glasses and heading for Market street, where she prayed she would find 'Betty Clurra' alone.

            It was an old and dilapidated, but reasonably large house. Max crept up the drive way and down the side of the building, looking and listening for signs of life. Reaching the back, Max had not yet seen so much as a single light. She picked to lock on the back door, and carefully opened the door. No alarm sounded and she breathed a sigh of relief. About to step over the threshold, Max glanced down and spotted a laser beam about a foot from the floor. A smile tweaked Max's lips. Clever, she thought. Allow them to think they're in, and get them with that which they don't expect. She checked for more beams before carefully stepping over and into the house. Max silently moved through the rooms that were much cosier than you'd imagine from the exterior of the place. She froze when she saw light under a door. Thinking for a minute, Max realised that room probably only looked out on the other side of the house from that she's seen, and not the back either. Max considered her options, and decided to bide her time.

            Betty Clurra yawned and glanced at her watch.

            "Oh crap." She moaned, seeing that it was past midnight. "An' I have to get up tomorrow an' all…" She closed down her computer and picked up the various dirty coffee mugs that littered the desk. Stifling another yawn, she moved to the kitchen, switching off the study light without turning any others on. She dumped the mugs in the sink, filled a glass with water, and headed into the living room, which lead to the hall, and the stairs. As she entered, a voice reached her through the darkness.

            "Betty Clurra?"

She dropped the glass and it smashed on the floor. She fumbled in her pocket and came out with a gun. "Whoa…" continued the voice. "Sorry, didn't mean to freak you. I just can't resist the dramatics, y'know?" Betty relaxed very slightly. The voice sounded so… normal, calming.

            "Who are you?" She managed.

            "A friend… I think… I guess." Max sighed, getting nowhere. "I'm a transgenic. I want to talk to you, that's all." Betty swallowed.

            "So why'd you break into my house and scare the shit outta me then?"

            "Sorry to break it to ya, Betts, but you're kinda difficult to get hold of."

            "I know." She laughed a little. "I meant to be. I shouldn't be so surprised, should I?" She lowered the gun, but still clutched it apprehensively. "You mind if I turn on a light?" She asked.

            "Go ahead." Max replied. Betty reached out to the switch nearby and flicked it, preparing herself for whatever ghastly sight she was about to behold. She instead found herself looking upon a stunning beautiful girl with dark hair, chocolaty brown eyes and olive skin. She quickly closed her gaping mouth.

            "So… err, you wanted to talk?" She said.

            "Yeah. I read your article. I guess I should really start by saying thanks. Very few people have admitted to any of those things you said.

            "But I know they're true."

            "I know. So do I." Max smiled. Betty looked Max up and down, noting the jacket, and her cool but hard demeanour. 

            "You're 452, aren't you?" She said quietly. This shocked Max a little, but she nodded. "They say you're the one Clemente talked to in Jam Pony. That you're the leader." Max shrugged.

            "Yeah, and kinda. I don't want to like… control those guys, but they're new in this world, and they need someone to show 'em the way."

            "And you aren't new in this world?"

            "No. I got out a while ago." Max didn't want to get complicated. "Look, what I wanted to know is why? Why do you believe us?" Betty sighed, and looked down, as if it took great effort to think about this.

            "Because… I think… I think I used to know one of you." Max sharply inhaled, and the other woman continued. "When I was a kid, there was a girl who stayed with us for a while. She was a little younger than me, naïve as hell, didn't seem to know a thing about the world. It was in 09, about the time eyes only said the first of you escaped. When she turned up, I was making a snow man, and she didn't know what it was. She was wearing these awful grey pyjama things, and had no shoes. I smuggled her back to my house and she was like a sister for a while…" Betty looked up to see that 452 was crying silently. "What…?" Betty gasped.

            "Your name is an anagram, isn't it?" Max said quietly. Betty's eyes went wide. "Your real name is… Lucy Barrett, right?"

            "How did you know that?" Betty… Lucy gasped. Max did not answer, but simply looked into the other woman's eyes as tears continued to fall from her own. Lucy began to shake her head slowly.

            "I never did introduce myself, did I?" Max said, "My name is Max, or Maxie to some, y'know, people I might call family."

            "Maxie?" Lucy exclaimed, tears streaming down her cheeks. She dropped the gun and wound her way across the room. She stood before the transgenic, tracing the lines of her face with her eyes. Max pulled her hair back to make it look shorter, and they both laughed a little. "Oh my god. Maxie!" Lucy cried, throwing her arms around the ecstatic transgenic, who hugged back tightly. "Oh god, Maxie I missed you!"

            "I missed you too, Lucy. I'm so sorry I left you! I'm so sorry…" Max sobbed into her hair as they clung to each other. "I missed you so much!" The two sank to the floor, still hugging, crying and gasping things they'd wanted to say for nearly twelve years. For once, nothing outside mattered, and Max was a little girl again, in that tiny house near LA, and all she wanted was to hold tight to her sister and never let go.

A few hours later, the two were sitting together sipping yet another cup of coffee, still in full flow about their lives since they'd last seen each other twelve years earlier. Apparently Lucy's mother had finally left her father a few months after Max had run. They'd had very little money, and Lucy began writing as soon as possible. It was one decent job she could do without leaving school and in which no one had to know she was only a child. She wrote for any paper or magazine she could, using a different name for each, and soon began to receive a steady-ish income. For the last few years she had been writing full time, still using her alias Max had deciphered, for many reasons including the fact that she intended to cause trouble for powerful people who hurt weaker ones simply because they can. When she got to his stage, she paused. Max knew she was holding back new tears. Max shook her head,

"I'm so sorry, Lucy."

Lucy squeezed Max's hand.

"No. You had every right to get the hell out. I wouldn't'a left my mum anyway, and if you hadn't done what you did, I don't think my mum would ever have got the courage to leave him."

"I'm still sorry." Max said pointlessly. "I went back y'know, after about a year, but the house was deserted."

"Yeah. I dunno what happened to my Dad. To tell you the truth I really don't care. Look, Max… with everything that's going on… I want to do anything I can to help." Max's eyes flew wide, she'd been expecting her to say she didn't want to get too involved. Lucy grinned. "I am gonna show those dimwits out there the truth about transgenics in a way they cannot ignore, lil' sis'." Max smiled naturally as she called her this, and pulled her into another hug.

"I love you Luce." She said.

"Love you too Maxie."