The rest of the day had gone by without incident. Max had taken a long walk to allow Zack plenty of time to plan out their trip - their new life. When she returned, he was drawing circles on maps. Instead of asking what he was really doing - what he was really planning for - she walked by him and into her room. She paced the length of the room, hoping every negative thought would leave her body and settle on the unstable floor, but so far it hadn't been working. Without knowing it, Zack offered a respite from her thoughts when he knocked on the door.
"Come in," she said distractedly. She sat on the edge of her bed and stared out the dark window.
Zack entered the room, carrying a rolled up map. "It's all set."
"For when?" she asked quietly.
"Dawn," he answered. "If we leave for the airport in a little while we'll get there just in time."
"I'll pack," she said. She couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Pack light," he advised. He told her the rest of the details. "The plane will take us into the US. One of the pilots has contacts there that can get us on a commercial airline without any trouble, then before you know it, we'll be in our new home."
She nodded and felt a sudden strain on the heart she could see but not touch.
He tapped the rolled up map on the palm of his hand then left the room, closing the door behind him.
Max got up from the bed and went to the window. Her enhanced vision allowed her to make out the forest and the layers and layers of snow. She frowned and hoped it didn't snow a lot in France.
She turned away from the window with a sigh and went to the closet. She touched the hinges were doors should have been hanging and wondered how much time she had really spent thinking about whom stole the doors. Anything she could think about that didn't have to do with leaving again she thought about. She pulled a small backpack from the corner of the closet and opened it up. She stuffed her small collection of three outfits into it easily and zippered it. She slung it over her shoulder then reached to the top shelf of the closet and groped around for the flashlight she kept hidden up there. She grabbed hold of it and pulled it down. When she did, she caught a corner of the unmarked cardboard box and it tumbled to the floor, spilling its contents like tragic entrails.
She gasped. She couldn't ever remember gasping before. She stared down at the clothes that were pooled on the floor and felt blood begin to pound in her ears.
She crouched down near the box and picked up the tan jacket. She gripped it tightly. She was aware that tears were slowly making their way down her cheeks, but she made no move to wipe them away. Instead, she allowed every memory to cascade through her body, filtering into the spot where her heart should have been and filling it only slightly.
She held the jacket with one hand and reached down to pick up the black sweater. Without knowing why, she held it close to her nose and took in the scent. She could smell rain, Seattle, Logan. The scents were barely there, but the important thing was that they were there. Next she picked up the blue pants and the red sneakers. She sat on the floor, gently cradling her only links to home and allowing the tears and memories to flow.
She readjusted herself so that her legs were stretched out and the pile of clothing was resting on her lap. She untied her combat boots and tossed them aside, then slipped the sneakers on her feet. She smiled down at them.
She folded the clothes in her lap carefully then pulled the backpack from her shoulder. She unzipped it and placed the clothes carefully inside.
There was a knock and Zack's voice came through the door. "Max, we should head out."
She nodded even though he couldn't see her. She tried to keep the tears from her voice as she replied, "Okay."
She heard him walk away and wiped her tears away. She zippered the backpack and slung it over her shoulder, then stood. She looked around the room for anything that she would absolutely have to take with her, but found nothing. She took one last look out her window, then joined Zack in the living room.
He was ready to go. He had on his jacket and a plain black backpack. He put out the fire then approached Max cautiously. He looked down at her.
"It's for the best, Maxie," he said quietly, then brushed a few strands from her face.
She nodded and turned away from him, not ready to dissect his feelings.
They left the house behind. Zack would never think of it again, but Max would choose to remember it as a memory frozen in time. They walked through the forest in relative silence - the only noises were Zack's boots crunching in the snow and twigs and branches snapping under them as they walked. From the direction they were traveling, Max knew they weren't headed to town like she had expected. She had thought that Zack had set up some sort of ride to get them from the town to the airport, but she guessed she was wrong.
They walked for at least an hour. They stopped at a clearing, a house in the center of it. Zack stared at the house.
"I don't get it," Max admitted quietly.
In response, Zack pointed to a row of four snowmobiles on the side of the house.
Max wanted to make a smart remark about how it was wrong for her to steal a chicken, but it was quite all right to steal a snowmobile, but didn't. She just followed him over to the vehicles and pulled one away from the house. She caught the helmet he tossed to her and put it on.
"Just follow me," he said then put on his own helmet.
They started the snowmobiles and drove off. Max only took one look back to see if anyone in the house had noticed their theft. When she saw the soft glow of a light through a window, she knew they hadn't gone unnoticed.
They rode the snowmobiles for a little over two hours. The machines ran out of gas and the pair abandoned them.
"It's not much farther anyway," Zack told her as they began walking.
They walked for about another hour and Max could see the sun creeping up over the horizon. They climbed a hill and when they reached the top, Max got her first glimpse of the airport. "Airport," she felt, was a bit strong for the strip of level land, dilapidated shack, and three crop-duster airplanes. She followed Zack down the hill without complaint, but wondered if the airplanes could even make it to the end of the airstrip without exploding.
When they reached the edge of the strip, one of the planes drove from its spot in line to a dull white line drawn on the strip - the starting line, Max guessed.
They walked to the small wooden shack and entered without knocking. The word "mess" was an understatement. There were three desks crowded into the tiny one-room building, each piled high with papers and empty take-out food containers. There was a tiny space heater in the room that was miserably failing at its job.
A man who was looked like he dressed for an extended stay in Antarctica stood over the heater, rubbing his hands together. When he heard them, he looked over and smiled.
"Mr. Jones," he said with a nod.
Zack nodded back and asked, "Is everything ready?"
"Yeah, everything's up and operational," he said. "The guys will get you to a town in Pennsylvania. We'll have a car pick you both up there and take you to Philadelphia. Everything's booked from there."
"Good," Zack replied and pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. He tossed it onto a desk and they left the shack.
When they were back on the airstrip, Max saw that a second plane had pulled out and was waiting behind the first. She turned to Zack and asked, "What's the dealio?"
"We're traveling in separate planes," Zack explained. "It's a safety precaution, in case one plane is intercepted. We'll meet in Pennsylvania."
Max nodded and Zack walked to the first plane. Before boarding, he called out, "See you soon, little sister!"
Max watched as Zack got on the plane. She watched as the plane went down the strip, gaining speed as it went, then she watched it jump into the sky and fly off.
The captain of the plane she was traveling in opened his door and yelled to her, "Come on! I don't want to get too far behind him! Hey! You comin' or what?"
Max looked down at her sneakers.