Chapter 25: Apocalyptic Alliance
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Max flung the door to his and Ryan's room open, forgetting the hour of night. All the light from the hall covered Ryan, who lay on the floor with his comforter hugged tightly around him. Even in the stark light he did not budge from his position. Max jogged over and knelt down next to his friend. He put a hand on Ryan's arm and shook him. Ryan's hand shot out and Max fell onto his back, his cowboy hat skidded across the ground. White lights danced above his head on the ceiling.
"Wow, stars."
"Oh man Max, I'm sorry, I didn't know…dude are you okay?" Ryan now bent over Max. His brown eyes grew big and his eyebrows came together.
Max put his hands up and grinned. "Dude, I'm fine." He sat up. "Look's like you fell out of bed. You okay?"
Ryan looked down and his ears reddened.
"Ryan?"
"I didn't fall, I uh, guess I'm just used to sleeping on the ground. I do it every night after you go to bed."
"Oh. I get it. It's the whole Count of Monte Cristo thing."
Ryan laughed. "Yeah. So how's your dad?"
Max's face sagged. He reached over and picked up his hat. He then walked over to his bed and sunk into it. "My Dad…and I…are probably no longer on speaking terms. He hates mutants and…I decided to tell him that I was one." The hat spun in the air and landed on the bedpost, a perfect toss. "I'm probably dead to him."
Ryan slapped him on the back and sat on his own bed. "He sounds like Stryker or Dobson." He shook his head. "Man, Dobson and Trask together would be the Apocalypse, at least for mutants."
A shiver ran up Max's arms and back, but he grinned at his friend. "I hear ya. Maybe we should knock on wood just in case."
They both laughed. But inside, they both felt the fear. Trask and Dobson shared a strong hatred for mutants and neither cared about the consequences of their actions regarding mutants. If they joined forces an Apocalypse might occur.