Max growled like an angry animal which had been trapped in a cage. She was again in the Dark Room, according to her plan. She can't let Chloe die again, not on her watch. All that really matters is her safety so Max has to keep her blue hair punk away from any danger including being shot by Jefferson in the junkyard nearby Rachel's grave. She hates that scenario from alternate reality so fucking much. Petite freckled girl just has left Chloe on the Vortex party and went to face that motherfucker alone so there will be no chance for him to hurt her friend. She has to try to save her best friend's life, she won't live with consequences of losing her. Before going to American Rust she looked carefully at the picture which Warren had taken just before the entrance to the Vortex party. Max took it and hid in a back pocket of her worn out trousers from Walmart. A safe harbour in the wild ocean of time, a simple photo that could bring her back to the original timeline if something will have been wrong. Psycho teacher had swallowed the bait, he got her next to the gate few minute after she had jumped from rusty stolen pickup. Of course it was Chloe's beloved beast, she just took keys from her with the famous trick with reversing time. Well, all for Chloe, even if she had to cheat her for her own good. She was her priority and it will never change. Max wouldn't let her get into trouble again and take the bullet right in the middle of her forehead. Shit, she was sick of her companion dying, it was enough. She had been dying too many times around her as the whole world was haunting her and wanted to be dead. But not on my watch, Mad Max is on the alert and won't let anyone hurt her best friend. The stinging feeling in the neck, the hellish heat burning through the veins as the drug spread through the bloodstream, and the consciousness slipping through her fingers were so fucking terrible, but she couldn't avoid it. She had to get caught, it was necessary. He dragged her to the car which had been parked nearby , half conscious with no muscular power, pumped out like an old, punctured bike inner tube. Maybe it was bad, stupid idea. So fucking idiotic! Max what the fuck were you thinking? She could tell David about the whole thing before that fucking time jump, he would run his contacts with the police outside the city, get Jefferson and wipe his ever-mocking smile off his hipster, pretentious face. Oh dear Dog, he would stick those fucking, tasteless Ray Bans into his skull so hard that they would pop out on the back of his head. But now there was no turning back, she threw herself into the deep water so she had to swim to the surface if she won't want to drown herself. There was no other way out, she had to think of something before she will completely slump into the open, waiting arms of a smiling nonentity which was glad even at the thought of company. She woke up only a few dozen minutes later, she was tied to a chair and the sudden flash and the characteristic ticking of the SLR camera woke her up. That shitty pervert couldn't last a moment without taking his sick photos. Brunette groaned miserably, her head was hurting like there was a rock drummer who had a solo show inside her skull, blood was dripping from her nose, her vision was still cloudy and it was hard for her to see anything except the blinding glare of the lamp.