Chapter 4

Chloe stumbled down the stairs with one hand on the railings and the other rubbing her eyes. She couldn't quite remember what woke her up or what made her head downstairs. She walked into the dim kitchen to see a familiar silhouette lighted by the full moon. The figure was just staring out the window by the sink. He was standing perfectly still.

"Dad?" Chloe called out hesitantly.

The figure turned around and beamed at his only daughter. Although no one would describe him as a burly man, General William Price could cut quite an intimidating figure, especially when dressed in his full combat uniform.

"Hey, there's Daddy's girl. What are you doing up, kiddo?" he asked, before setting his coffee mug on the counter and walking over to give Chloe a kiss on her head.

"I'm not sure. I couldn't sleep, I guess. What's going on? Why are you all dressed up for work?" she asked and flipped the switch by the doorway.

When the kitchen lit up, Chloe realised for the first time in her life how tired her father looked. The dark circles under his eyes had become more prominent of late, and his eyes were not shining as brightly. There was even a small cut on his lower cheek, probably made while shaving.

"Sweetheart," he began, before kneeling down in front of his daughter and holding her hands in his. "I have to work today. I'm so sorry."

"What? No! We're supposed to go to the beach together today. Max even brought her suit! You promised, Dad," Chloe said in near tears. She hasn't spent much time with her father since news of the European civil unrest has spread to the United States two years ago. What started as peaceful strikes against austerity measures and greedy corporations in the region have erupted into violent clashes and armed conflicts throughout the years. Numerous attempts at peaceful negotiations have failed, and the whole world have been pulled into the chaos. Eventually, no country would be spared. This would be one of the last peaceful moments left in Arcadia Bay. But Chloe didn't know that. All the 14-year-old wanted was a long overdue beach trip with both her parents and best friend.

"I know, honey. I'm so sorry. I have no choice. I promise we'll go on Sunday, okay? Scout's honour," William said apologetically while holding out three fingers on his right hand. It was obvious that he hated disappointing his daughter, and that made Chloe feel slightly better.

"The war is coming, isn't it?" she asked, while wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"What? No, sweetheart. The war is far away from Arcadia Bay. We are fine here, protected by the finest soldiers the army has to offer. I mean, just look at how strong Daddy is," William said and flexed his muscles, which earned him a snort of laughter from the teenager. "That's my girl. Now give me a hug and go back to bed."

Chloe wrapped her arms around her father's shoulders and squeezed him tight. She loved hugging him. It was like an instant blanket of security and comfort. She could smell a hint of his bodywash scent and felt his short, cropped hair tickling her neck.

Without warning, she felt his body spasmed.

"Dad?" she pulled away in alarm and took a step back.

William's face has gone pale; his expression was one of confusion and shock. He looked down at his hand holding over his stomach. Chloe watched in slow motion as a pool of blood slowly spread over the spot her father was clutching. He took his hand off the wound and studied his hand dripping in blood. He seemed mesmerised by it.

Wordlessly, he fell to the floor with his head at his daughter's feet.

"Oh my god, oh my god… Dad? Dad!" Chloe cried and pushed him onto his back. She immediately tried to stem pressure on his bleeding wound, like she was taught in school. His father's opened eyes were already blank, lifeless. She didn't know what to do. The blood kept pouring and her father was unresponsive.

"MUM! MUM! HELP! MAX!" she shouted amidst her cries. She could hardly see anymore because she was crying so hard.

"Dad, please don't do this to me," she pleaded. She stopped her fruitless attempt at stopping the bleeding and instead cradled her father's head in her arms. Her bloody hands were making a mess as she held him, but she didn't care. She needed him to wake up, needed to let him know she couldn't live without him.

"Dad, please don't leave me. Please don't leave me…"

Chloe's eyes pop open. It was just another dream but her cheeks are damp with tears anyway. There is a dull throb on one side of her head for some reason and her body aches from lying in an uncomfortable bed. She rubs away the tears and tries to remember if she was drinking the night before.

"Good morning, Chloe," says a soft female voice on the other side of the room.

Chloe sits up in panic and looks across the room but is unable to see the person clearly because half of the room is devoid of any light. She spots her handgun in her peripheral view on the nightstand, grabs it and aims the weapon at the general direction of the voice. She knows immediately however that it was a futile attempt.

Shit, the gun is too light. They must have unloaded it.

"Wow, are you that eager to take a shot at me? Hear me out first at least."

Chloe squints as the speaker slowly steps out from the shadows. Once Chloe sees Max's face, memories of the night before come flooding into her mind.

"No way, you're not real. The Max Caulfield I knew is either dead or has left Arcadia Bay," she says, still aiming the gun pointlessly at Max's doppelganger.

Is this a cruel joke? First, a nightmare about her father dying in her arms and now, this? Max looks so…unbelievably real. My head must have been cracked open harder than I thought.

Max watches in mild amusement at Chloe's internal battle. While she misses Chloe's long blonde hair when they were teens, Max has to admit that the punk blue hair look she is sporting right now suits her more. Max wouldn't be surprised if Chloe has tattoos and body piercings to complete the transformation. Yes, she realises that they last saw each other eight years ago, but she couldn't believe how much Chloe has grown and matured. Max still feels like a lame 13-year-old next to her with her old teen hairstyle and lack of fashion sense.

"How about I prove it to you?" Max grabs a nearby chair and sits herself near the bed. "Many years ago, a young Chloe Price had the brilliant idea of stealing the school caretaker's keys and convincing an innocent Max Caulfield to go for an illegal midnight dip in the pool. Unfortunately, we forgot about the guards patrolling the school grounds in the wee hours. We ended up hiding in the locker room in our swimsuits and almost got away with it smoothly when…"

"Heh, when I just had to let out a giant sneeze which scared the shit out of the nearby guard and he ran to get help. To be fair, what kind of a guard shit his pants over a sneeze?"

"To be fair, it was monstrous, Chloe," Max chuckles briefly. "We were lucky to be able to grab our clothes while he was gone and leave. We were laughing so hard though…"

"Yeah, and it was fuckin' freezing. I caught a cold and was in bed for days. It was worth it though," Chloe says, while slowly putting the gun down.

"Yeah, yeah, it was wicked fun."

There is an awkward silence as Chloe sizes Max up. It's hard to believe her eyes. Max looks exactly as she did eight years ago. Perhaps she has grown slightly taller, and maybe developed a sense of quiet confidence over the years. But that's it. It's like being transported into the past when her life was worth living again, before the war.

Dammit, she's still hella cute.

"So," Chloe snaps out of her thoughts and examines her surroundings. "We've established that you're the real Max Caulfield. Where am I?"

"You're in my hideout. We're safe. You had a concussion, courtesy of Nathan, and now you're recovering. You're out for just a few hours," Max says methodically now.

"And you decided that it's important to unarm me because…?"

"It's just for precaution," Max says evasively.

She seems to suddenly be treating Chloe like a stranger, as if they didn't just have a connection moments ago.

"Tell me what happened," Chloe asks, trying to keep her annoyance in check.

"Well, once you concussed, I saw a wheelbarrow…"

"What? No," Chloe says, becoming increasingly irked. "I was talking about eight years ago when you decided to abandon me."

If the brief silence was awkward before, it is excruciating now. The morning bombing in a distant neighbourhood can be heard in the background. Otherwise, the shelter they are in is deathly quiet. Max looks away in shame and remorse.

"After eight years, you're still Max Caulfield. Don't give me the guilty face. At least pretend you're glad to see me."

"I am seriously glad to see you," Max says, trying to meet Chloe's eyes.

"Yeah?" Chloe retorts, almost struggling now to keep her dam of anger from breaking. "Then tell me what happened. I'm sure you knew about my father, who died on the same day you left. I'm sure you knew my mother and I were left stranded with no guarantee of safety. The army was ready to throw us into the streets if it weren't for my mother who managed to get a job feeding the soldiers. Oh, and do you know I have a stepdouche now to ensure we have a roof over our heads and protected by the army? My life has been just dandy. I think you owe me some sort of explanation."

"Chloe," Max starts, while trying to hold back her tears. "There's nothing I could say that would take away what happened…"

"You're right. It wouldn't change shit. Yet, you owe me an explanation."

Max feels trapped. She couldn't figure out a credible excuse. No matter how much training she went through, she could never master the art of lying. Put her in a spot like this and her brain turns to mush. Besides, she owes Chloe the truth.

"Hey, is everything…oh, she's awake."

Chloe and Max whip their heads towards the door. Victoria is standing by the door frame with her trusty shotgun by her side. Unlike Max, who is dressed to blend in with the citizens, Victoria always seems ready for battle in her SWAT-like tactical combat get-up. Max warned her against looking like trouble, but naturally, she never listens.

"Hey, Vic. We're okay, thanks," Max says, while trying to secretly gesture at her to leave.

Chloe suddenly feels uneasy at that moment. This Victoria character looks so familiar. Chloe swears she has seen her before, on posters that are nailed all over the military base camp. The person on the poster has longer hair, but they both have the same bitchy face, distinctive nose and projects a holier-than-thou aura. Something lights up in Chloe's mind.

Oh my god…

Chloe leaps out of bed, grabs her concealed handgun from her ankle holster, and aims it at Victoria.

"Whoa, whoa, Chloe! No, wait, I can explain!" Max shouts in alarm as she springs to stand in between Chloe and Victoria, who is also already pointing her weapon at the former.

"Drop your weapon," Victoria warns harshly while stepping into the room to get a more accurate aim at Chloe.

"No fuckin' way. You are Victoria Chase. Max, tell me, what the fuck are you doing with the daughter of the rebel leader?"