She stared down at the sneakers and frowned. They had turned a darker shade of red from being wet from the snow. She hated the snow. She wondered how much it snowed in France. It snowed in Pennsylvania. There was probably snow there. She hated the snow. She hated Manticore. She hated Lydecker. At the moment she hated Zack.
But most of all she hated herself.
She blinked back the tears that were forming and looked to the sky where Zack's plane had flown off. She ran to her plane and looked up at the pilot.
"I'm not going to Pennsylvania," she told him. "Can you take me to Washington? Seattle?"
He nodded. "I get paid no matter where you go, sweetie."
Normally Max would have kicked his ass for the 'sweetie' remark, but too many thoughts and ideas were racing through her mind to care. She told him to wait, then went back into the wooden shack.
The man was sitting at a desk, counting Zack's money. He looked up at her and asked, "What're you still doing here?"
"I'm changing course," she told him. "Can you get a message to my brother when he lands?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Tell him… Tell him I went home."
The man nodded and Max went back to the plane. She got in and when she felt the plane rumble and begin to move forward, she knew there was no going back. She felt the plane take flight and felt every worry, every care settle in the pit of her stomach. She felt like horking. She hated horking.
The entire plane ride was plagued with analyzing. Max allowed every unanalyzed fact from the past two months and beyond to surface and she dissected each and every one. The only break she got from her thinking was a brief pit stop in North Dakota. The plane had stopped to refuel and have a check up. She had wandered into the nearest restaurant and ate as much as she possibly could. The stop didn't last long enough for her liking, however, and they were back in the air.
Right around the time that Max was considering jumping from the plane and saving herself the misery of her thoughts, the pilot told her that they would be touching down in ten minutes.
It was the longest ten minutes of Max's life.
When the plane touched down on a slick airstrip that Max didn't recognize, she let out a sigh of relief. When the plane had come to a stop, she got out and looked around. She heard the pilot hop to the ground behind her and she turned to him. "Where exactly are we?"
"A few miles outside Seattle," he answered. He pointed to a small building near the airstrip. "We fly here sometimes. There should be a guy inside, Sparky. Tell him Canada sent ya. He should be able to get you a lift into the city."
"Thanks," Max said and walked to the building.
She opened the door and saw that it was a big improvement over the wooden shack in Canada. There was a metal desk set snugly in the corner and it looked relatively neat. There was an armchair on the other side of a room and a small television in front of it.
"Anyone home?" Max asked.
A man stood up from the armchair and turned around to look at her. He was about fifty and losing both his hair and figure at a rapid pace. "Who're you?"
"Uh, Canada sent me," she said. "I'm… Mary."
"Canada, eh?" the man asked and fished a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. He lit one and took a long drag. "I can't fly ya anywhere. There's a storm coming in."
"I don't need a flight," Max explained. "My pilot told me you could get me a ride into town."
The man took another long drag of his cigarette. The tip glowed a bright red and ashes flew from it without grace. She wondered if that was how Sparky got his name.
"How much ya got?" he asked.
Max reached into her pocket and fished out only one bill. "Twenty bucks."
She actually had around fifty, but that was her little secret.
"That'll get ya a seat in the back," Sparky grunted. He grabbed a coat from near the television and put it on. "Follow me."
He led her out of the building and to a pickup truck that looked as if it might have been new in 1985. He patted the back, signaling to her that that was where she was to ride, then he climbed into the cab.
Max climbed into the back and stretched out. She looked at the stars and could feel her chest tighten as the truck started. The bumpy ride to the city gave her plenty more time to think. After nearly flying from the back of the truck thanks to a pothole, she gripped the side for dear life and decided that she would visit her apartment first. She was in need of a hot shower and a fresh change of clothes. Plus, she owed Kendra an explanation. She owed Original Cindy an explanation. Logan had known where she had gone, but she felt she owed something too.
The truck eventually came to a violent stop. Max looked around and saw that she was on the outer edge of the city. She hopped from the back of the truck and stood by the driver's side door.
Sparky rolled down the window and accepted the twenty she offered him. "Remember to tell your friends to fly Sparky."
"Will do," she said dryly, then walked away.
She heard the truck roar in the opposite direction. She walked the streets, again allowing her thoughts to consume her. She didn't know what elaborate lie she would concoct when she reached the apartment. Would Kendra even let her in? Did Kendra even still keep the apartment? Did she keep her things? What about her baby?
Finally, she reached the apartment building. She looked up at the shell and frowned. Her questions would be answered soon enough.