August 1, 2015
Away, Arizona

The last leg of our trip, a winding dirt road that branches off the highway and snakes its way through desert, takes us longer than we anticipate. It's mid-afternoon by the time we roll into the unincorporated (and largely unknown) desert hamlet of Away. It's not much to look at. Just a handful of dusty buildings and a few campers. Passing between one of the motorhomes and a small cluster of half-scrapped cars, I park our rental next to a row of homemade wooden planters.

"Damn," Victoria murmurs, "This place is kinda..."

"Unique?"

"I was going to say post-apocalyptic, but sure. We'll go with unique."

"Maybe don't share that impression with the locals." I get out of the car and the late afternoon sun hits me the second I do. It's like a heated weight on my shoulders and I can already feel myself starting to sweat. We've had the AC running at full since we left Flagstaff and I'd forgotten how oppressively hot it was outside. Pulling a hair tie from my pocket, I put my hair up in a messy bun. The light breeze over the back of my neck feels absolutely wonderful.

"Speaking of locals, where is everyone?"

"Inside, if they're smart. It's about a million degrees out here."

"No kidding." Victoria lifts a hand to shield her eyes from the desert sun. "Which one is Madsen's?"

"Pretty sure it's that one." I point to a nearby Airstream trailer. "C'mon."

The gleam off the trailer's silver exterior is almost as bad as the sun itself, but not enough to keep me from noticing the wood sheet leaning against the trailer's side. Staring at the childish drawings on its surface in disbelief, I slowly walk over and kneel down to get a closer look.

Chloe and I did this when we were kids; a drawing of the two of us walking hand-in-hand on a beach, surrounded by things we wanted to see when we grew up. Dolphins and palm trees and giraffes and pyramids and a dozen other things. I can't help but smile at the sloppy artwork, even if it makes my heart ache a little to look at it.

I haven't seen it since Arcadia Bay, after Chloe and I dragged it up to her bedroom to use as an impromptu bulletin board, and I haven't thought about it in nearly as long. I'd just assumed it was lost, along with everything else.

Victoria sidles up beside me, smirking. "Not exactly an artistic masterpiece, is it?"

"Sure isn't," I laugh. Reaching out, I trace my fingers along the rainbow that fills its sky. "I drew this with Chloe when we were about eleven years old. I never thought I'd see it again."

"Max?" Surprised, I spin around to find David Madsen standing just a few feet away. He must've just come around the corner because he looks just as surprised to see us.

It still blows me away how much he's changed. Back when I first met him (while taking the blame for some weed that definitely wasn't mine) he'd only been out of the army for about four years and had still been ridiculously strait-laced. Except for the light stubble on his face, he could have stepped right back into uniform and no one would have noticed the difference. His aggressiveness and short temper hadn't made him especially likeable, either.

These days, he's a completely different person. His trimmed moustache and close-cropped hair have grown into a full beard and an honest-to-god ponytail, and he's become more laid-back than I would have believed was possible.

"Hey, David." I stand, brushing some dust off my knees, and point to Victoria. "You remember Victoria Chase, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Nice to see you again, Miss Chase."

She nods, looking a little conflicted. Seeing him again is probably bringing back some tough memories. "You too."

"So...you're probably wondering what we're doing here."

Classic David probably would've growled at me for 'being flippant' or something. New & Improved David just smirks. "The question did cross my mind."

I hesitate and briefly look to Victoria, who gives me one of her very rare encouraging smiles. "There's something we need to ask you."

"That's all?" He glances between us, surprised. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but you could have just called."

I could have called anytime, for any reason, but if he's not going to bring that up then neither am I. "Trust me, this isn't a conversation you have over the phone. It's kind of a whole big thing."

"Hm. Guess you might as well come in, then." He leads us around to the trailer's door. "There isn't a whole lot of room inside, but the air conditioning works, so it beats the hell out of standing in the sun."

"Yes please," Victoria groans, practically diving into the cooler air. Chuckling, David waves me in before following and shutting the door. Although the interior isn't drastically cooler than it is outside, it's still a relief.

"Have a seat wherever. Either of you want something to drink?"

"Just some water," I say. Victoria just shakes her head.

"Well, then." Settling onto a folding stool next to a cluttered workbench, he pulls a bottle of water from a minifridge and tosses it to me. "What's this 'whole big thing' that brought you out to my particular middle of nowhere?"

I take a deep breath, happy that I actually practiced. "Okay, so the story I'm about to tell you is going sound crazy, but I promise I can prove to you that it's not."

"Interesting start," he comments.

"Trust me, we aren't even close to the interesting stuff yet," Victoria comments, smirking a little.

"I can tell you right now that there are going to be some parts you don't like," I continue. "Probably even some parts that make you angry. That's why I need you to swear that you'll listen to the whole thing before you react."

He lifts an eyebrow, but nods.

"Okay." I take another breath. "It all started back during Arcadia Bay's last week. I was sitting in Mark Jefferson's class when..."

An hour later, after receiving a somewhat abridged version of the story, David leans back against his workbench and regards us silently. When he finally speaks, the first question he asks is exactly what we expected it to be. "So, your powers are what caused that storm?"

"We don't know," Victoria says. "It could've just as easily been the other way around, or they might not be related at all. We do know that nothing else like it has happened in almost two years."

"Hm." He watches us quietly for a moment. "Well, you weren't wrong. That all sounds..."

"Crazy?" I venture.

"I was going to say far-fetched, but if the straitjacket fits." he shrugs, chuckling. "I can't wait to see how you expect to prove it."

"That part's easy." Pulling a pen and a gas station receipt out of my pocket, I hand both to him. "Write whatever you want on there. Don't tell me what."

"Magic tricks? Really?"

"Just write something. And make it complex. Something we couldn't just reproduce." Standing up, I open the door and step back outside. Gesturing for Victoria to do the same, we move about ten feet away as David looks on with bemusement.

Shaking his head, he writes several sentences. He even adds a few small doodles around the edges. "There. Now what?"

"Crumple it up in a ball and hold it in your fist as tightly as you can." Everyone always wants to see proof, so I spent the trip here coming up with something simple, but hopefully irrefutable. David has gotten a lot better in the last couple of years, but he's still not entirely the open and trusting type. "You can feel it in your hand?"

"Yes, Max, I can feel it in my hand."

"Okay. I want you to count backwards from three."

"Alright," he mutters dubiously. "Three, two, one. Now what?"

I scuff the ground with my heel, then walk back to the door. "Now you hand it over."

"Aren't you supposed to tell me what I wrote or something?"

"I've got no idea what you wrote." I make a 'gimme' motion, adding, "Don't unfold it."

"Is this supposed to prove something to me?"

"Nope. Luckily, I don't need to convince you right now." I take the crumpled receipt from him, squeezing it in my left fist. "I need to convince you about thirty seconds ago."

"I...what?"

Returning to the spot I marked, I raise my right hand and flick the world back by half a minute.

"...two, one. Now what?"

"Can you still feel it?"

"Of course I ca..." He blinks, opening his hand. "What the hell?"

"Looking for this?"

He stares at the paper ball I'm holding up. "How'd you do that?"

Victoria beats me to it. "She got it from you after you counted, then went back in time to before you gave it back to her." She turns to me. "Right?"

I nod, tossing the paper to David and stepping back into the trailer. He flattens it out on his workbench, eyes widening when he confirms that it's the same one he'd been holding.

"She can do that all day," Victoria continues. "If this time wasn't enough."

"No, just...just give me a second."

"Take your time."

He spends almost five minutes searching the small paper for some imperfection or sign that it's a fake. Finally, he crumples it in his fist again and gives me a considering look. "I always wondered how you and Chloe figured Jefferson out so quickly. I'd been digging for months, and you managed to find that rat bastard's little hole in a few days. Relatively speaking, I guess."

"We couldn't have done it without the evidence you'd already gathered."

"Hm." He tosses the ball of paper into a waste basket across the trailer. It's a pretty impressive shot, actually. "So I guess the real question is..."

"Why did we come all the way out here to tell you?" He gives me the same suspicious look Victoria once did. "I didn't rewind if that's what you're wondering. I just assumed that'd be your next question."

"Rewind?"

"Don't get me started," Victoria mutters.

"We're here," I loudly interrupt, "because we need your help."

"What could you possibly need my help with? Apparently, you're the one with superpowers."

"Yeah, I am. And I'm going to use them to fix everything. I'm going to go back to Arcadia Bay, right before the storm, and I'm going to save every single person I can."

I've definitely got his attention now. "You can do that?"

"Maybe," I admit. "It's something we've been working on. The idea is to break the trip into eight three-month sections. I'm already up to six weeks – probably more if I don't mind a rough landing – and we've come up with some ideas on extending that even further."

"Unfortunately," Victoria jumps in. "A plan to get her there is about all we've got. What to do after she arrives? Not so much."

"So that's the first thing we're here for," I pick up. "We need you to help us put together an actual plan. It needs to be thorough and foolproof and you're one of the most security-conscious people I've ever met."

"That's a real polite way of saying 'paranoid', Max."

I cringe. "Sorry."

"It's fine." He shrugs. "I mean, you're not exactly wrong. What's the other thing?"

"The other thing we need from you..." I glance at Victoria again. "...is a secret."

"Kind of hard for me to give you something if you won't tell me what it is."

"No, I mean a literal secret. Something personal and private that you've never, ever told anyone in your life."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I need to have something I can say to you back in 2013 that'll absolutely prove that you trusted me in the future."

"I think you and I may have different understandings of what 'personal and private' means."

"I know how it sounds, bu-"

"I'm gay," Victoria cuts in. "I was in love with...uh...with someone who died in the storm, but I never told them. Before today I was the only person on earth who ever knew either of those things. I told Max two hours ago, so that two years in the past she can say something to a younger me that she couldn't possibly know otherwise. That's how she'll know Max is for real."

"Like a pass phrase," he murmurs, nodding to himself. "Suppose it's as good a method as any."

"I know it's asking a lot," I say. "And I wouldn't if it wasn't important."

"Hm." He sits quietly, thinking. "I'll be honest with you, I'm having trouble wrapping my head around this. Time travel? Re-writing the past. That's...hell, I don't even know what that is."

"You get used to it," Victoria wobbles her hand. "Sorta."

"Look, even if it's possible – which, cute tricks aside, I'm not saying I believe it is - it's not the kind of plan you throw together in a day. The research alone would take weeks."

"Which is why we're asking for help," Victoria points out. "We're pretty out of our depth."

Leaning back against his bench, he regards us quietly for a long moment. "I'm going to need some time to think about this."

"Take as much as you need," I say, adding, "The great thing about time travel is that we've got plenty to spare."

"I suppose that's true." He points to the small charcoal grill just outside. "I don't suppose you two are hungry?"

I glance at Victoria, who shrugs. "I haven't eaten since the airport."

I haven't either, and my stomach pick that moment to remind me of that with an audible growl.

"I'll take that as a yes," David chuckles. "It won't take long to get the grill ready. In the meantime, what else have you been up to? Seems you've got about five months to catch me up on."

"More like a year," I say, before I can stop myself. "I mean...uh..."

"Lemme guess. Time travel thing?"

"Heh..." I shrug helplessly.

"Well, I guess you can catch me up on the year, then. You want one burger or two?"

"One's fine."

"Two for me," Victoria says, adding, "What? I'm hungry!"

The afternoon passes quickly into early evening, and as the air gets a little cooler, some of the other residents of Away emerge from their homes.

One of them is a woman David introduces as Joan. She's sweet, and apparently a pretty successful artist. She's also pretty obviously undergoing chemotherapy. Even if I couldn't recognize the signs at a glance, the sallow complexion, slightly sunken eyes, and distinct lack of eyebrows would all be dead giveaways. Another woman, Karen, stops by later to ask David about a broken TV. She's polite, but kind of standoffish. It's tough to get a feel for what's going on behind her guarded expression, and I'm actually kind of relieved when she leaves.

For the most part, we just talk. Well, I talk and David listens. I tell him about the days, weeks, and months that have passed for me since Chloe's funeral. About the failed photo jumps and the email and my brief flirtation with exhaustion-induced insanity. (He sympathized with how shitty insomnia is and was happy to hear it had mostly passed). About going to Victoria for help, and the (sometime reckless) things we'd done to extend my rewind range.

I briefly considered mentioning Chloe's hidden note, too, but chose not to. There wasn't any way to explain it without having to explain why I've been going back to the past, and I don't feel like sharing. Those moments belong to Chloe and I.

Finally, as the sun dips lower, Victoria nudges my shoulder and points to the car. "We should really get going. I don't feel too comfortable about driving out here at night."

"You're right about that," David agrees. "You can probably get a motel room in Tuba City, head to Flagstaff first thing."

"Actually, we're going to go visit the Grand Canyon tomorrow," I add, grinning at Victoria's slightly indignant expression. She'd been a little hesitant to admit she'd never seen the Grand Canyon in person and had actually let out an excited little squeak when I suggested we take the time to go. "She's never been."

"You'll like it," he grins. Almost two years and seeing an honest grin on David Madsen's face is still kind a little surprising. "It's probably one of the few things in life that actually lives up to the hype."

"So I hear," Victoria grumbles.

"Well, even if it was a short visit, it was still good to see you both. And I really will think about everything." He pauses. "Actually, I do have one piece of advice for you right now, if you're interested."

I nod. "Yeah, of course."

"If we're going to be emailing back and forth about this, we should make it sound like we're working on something fictional. Like a book or a screenplay or something. As in, if you think an idea wouldn't work, you'd say something like 'no one would ever believe that' or 'that's just sloppy writing'."

"That seems a little excessive," Victoria scoffs. "I mean, it's not like the government has us under observation or anything."

"As far as you know," David counters, smirking.

"Seriously?"

"Hey, you asked for paranoid." He shrugs. "Anyway, you'd better hit the road; the sun goes down fast out here."

Stepping forward, I surprise him with a brief hug. "Take care of yourself, David."

"Er...thanks. You, too. And...uh..." When I step back, he looks like he's trying to decide whether or not to continue. "Look, that secret you're after? It can be anything, right? So long as I'm the only person who knows it?"

I give him a nod. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Fine. Chester Munroe thought you'd have his back." The words come out stiffly, like they're fighting to not be spoken. "If whatever this is actually happen and you want me to listen, say the words 'Chester Munroe thought you'd have his back'."

"Who's Chester Munroe?"

"Doesn't matter. If that isn't enough to convince me, nothing is." He shakes his head. "And to be honest, it probably won't be enough. I wasn't one to change my opinions back then."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself."

"I don't," he says shortly. "Get going. I'll email you once I've thought this over."