Chapter 9

Max pulls Chloe into a death hug, this time without any hesitation. Just a minute ago, Max could only scream mutely as she watched in horror as her best friend's body was flung like a rag doll due to a nearby blast. Max has to stop from pinching herself that Chloe is here and well and unharmed. If this were a dream, she would rather not wake up.

"Oh my god, I thought…," Chloe whispers. Whatever she wanted to say was replaced by a tightened grip on Max. It did not matter though. Max understands.

"I thought too," Max replies softly, but starts to become acutely aware that they are attracting unwanted attention. Not only are they hugging in the middle of an active combat zone, but someone from the military side can be heard shouting for Chloe. Rebel fighters nearby pause in the middle of firing shots at the soldiers to look around for the Chloe in question.

Thank god she has the sense not to be in uniform.

Max grabs Chloe's hand and quickly drags her away from the parade square. They pass by the rebels gearing themselves for battle and try to ignore the cries of the civilians and non-fighters on the streets. Some of them are sobbing over the loved ones in their arms while others are scampering towards the rebels' trucks to escape.

Max did not know where they should head to, but the rebel's campsite is definitely a no-go. Chloe would stick out like a sore thumb and there is nothing about her that could possibly pass off as a civilian living on the streets. Max cannot leave her behind either, and there is no way she could sneak Chloe back to her barracks without getting shot at herself.

But they need a refuge now; a shelter to lie low at until after the chaos has subsided. A low rumble of thunder in the distance and oncoming gloomy clouds just makes finding sanctuary even more critical.

"Max, where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere, just trust me."

…..Probably not the wisest thing to say to someone you left behind when she needed you the most, Max. But she is relieved when Chloe did not reply so.

Max sees Warren barking at the non-fighters to hurry onto the trucks and she stops in her tracks. His disposition of anyone military-related would surely lead to trouble or even certain death for Chloe. Trying not to panic, Max yanks Chloe to the opposite end. She sees the outskirts of the local park and knows where they can go now. After fifteen minutes of intermittent jogging and brisk walking in silence, they are finally totally alone, though they can never be freed from the echoes of gunfires in the distance.

"Amazeballs, this piece of shit still survives."

"I know, isn't it great? Come on," Max gestures before swiftly climbing up the wooden planks leading up to their old tree house for the second time that week.

She crawls into the tight space and moves to the far corner of the tree house. The low roof makes it almost impossible for adults to walk around in the tree house and the two windows on the opposite sides are useless and full of grime. But it is comfortable enough for two people to hide in and the foundation is still sturdy. Max was surprised at not seeing a hobo claiming the tree house as his own, but she figured it would be a fairly uncomfortable stay on a long-term basis and not many people actually walk through the dense park looking up for tree houses.

Chloe crawls in soon after and she looks around in a half-amused grin and wonder. "Does the trunk still have my Mighty Max collection? Or your teacup collection?"

"See for yourself. Unfortunately, the economy still does not see kids' toys as valuable trading commodity," Max replies before thirstily chugging some water from her bottle.

Max is thrilled to hear Chloe's chuckles. "Fuck you, my toys are legendary."

She lifts open the nearby trunk and is soon lost in silent nostalgia as she goes through their childhood toys. It was the exact motion Max went through when she checked out the tree house a few days ago. No one was prepared for the world to be in utter disarray just a decade ago. Not for the first time, Max wonders how they would have turned out if their lives were normal.

Chloe lets out a loud sigh and soon joins Max sitting by the wall. The mood in the tree house shifts just as the sky starts pouring, drowning any sounds of war with its unforgiving rain and roaring thunder. The tarp above still keeps most of the rain off the tree house. They are certainly stuck here then, cocooned in space and time. They sit in silence for awhile as Chloe takes a drink from her own bottle. Max wonders if there is another confrontation brewing or if Chloe is simply still stuck in the past.

"That was a shitty move."

Confrontation it is then.

"What exactly are you referring to?"

"The bombings, Max," Chloe says exasperatedly. Max is quite sure she is rolling her eyes too. "Working with the military may not be ideal solution for the rebels, but what the fuck? You are trying to win the war by bombing us? By calling a so-called peace treaty? There were civvies there, Max. I thought you guys were better than the military."

"What?" Max laughs incredulously and Chloe finally turns to look at her. "Hang on, you think we are behind this attack? Chloe, we didn't travel across states to the enemy's front lines to throw damn firecrackers at their doorsteps. We barely have enough to eat, much less have the resources to start a full-on attack. I'm sorry, Chloe, but the military is behind this."

"No way, Max," Chloe says while shaking her head. "There were children and non-combatants at the parade square. They were our people. We don't have enough bodies around to just….throw under the bus to start a rampage. It doesn't fucking make sense."

"Well, there is a saboteur among us then. Because someone wanted to tank that peace treaty, and it worked."

Chloe starts to unpack her cigarettes and offer Max one. "If that's true, then that's above my paygrade to figure out."

"Hear, hear," Max replies before taking one stick, hoping that it also represents a truce.

Chloe helps to light her cigarette and they sit smoking quietly for awhile. Both are devastated about the failed treaty but equally content to bask in each other's presence.

"So, what's next?" Chloe finally asks after her cigarette burns out.

"We should probably wait it out till dawn. It would be safer then to…"

"No, I mean, are you leaving Arcadia Bay now that the treaty is botched?"

Max tenses. Chloe is watching her again. Her expression seems impassive, but Max knows the wrong response could make her fly off the handle. She takes a deep breath and hopes that the truth will suffice.

"I don't have to," Max responds while reaching out for Chloe's hand. Their relationship has always been tactile since they were kids; their instincts are always to touch each other, whether as a form of protection or reassurance. Chloe does not move her hand away, which is a good sign, although the contact burns Max's skin now that she is focused on it.

"Eight years ago, I didn't have a choice. It's a decision that I regret everyday. But I'm never leaving you again, Chloe. Never. I'm staying," says Max softly but determinedly.

"Wow, SuperMax, look who has gone full-fledged Casanova on me," teases Chloe, but the soft blush creeping up her neck as she looks away shows that she believes her words. She still trusts her after everything that happened, and it painfully lifts Max's heart, even though she does not deserve it.

I will do everything in my power to make it up to her.

It is then that Max notices something red peeking out from underneath Chloe's jacket sleeve.

"Chloe, is that…a tattoo?"

"Oh right, let me show you," she exclaims before casually shrugging off her leather jacket and showing off her full sleeve tattoo.

"Ta-dah. Neat, right?" she says proudly. "Apparently, one of our tank mechanics used to be a tattoo artist and he brought out his tools one day and I was fucking stoked. Anyway, I drew the design myself. It hurt like a bitch and it took a few weeks to be done. But damn, that guy is hella good."

Max is mesmerised by the intricate design of red flowers weaved with thorns and a golden skull and small blue butterflies fluttering about. She is tempted to ask what it all means, but they are probably not ready to open that can of worms yet. The design is so detailed that Max doubts Chloe drew it purely for aesthetics.

"Well, he was anyway," Chloe rambles on, but she also seems to have taken a sudden intake of breath when Max starts tracing the outline of her tattoo absentmindedly. "He was crushed by a tank in the middle of repairing it a few months ago, but I have his tools and I've been practising, so if you are ready for your first tattoo, I'm your girl."

"Hey, what makes you think I haven't had tattoos? Maybe I have a flaming dragon on my back," says Max, feeling mildly indignant. Chloe raises her eyebrow at that and smirks.

"Okay, Caulfield. Take off your hoodie and your shirt and show me your dragon," she teases, even winking at Max when she says the word dragon.

"What? No, I'm not going to take off my shirt just to show off my…dragon. Besides, we just met again yesterday. You have to do more to get me to go topless for you."

Oh my god, what am I doing?! Am I flirting with Chloe? Max, get yourself under control!

"Oh? Tell me what I need to do then to get you topless," Chloe says as she leans closer. Her voice has gone husky and seductive. Her expression has gone predatory and she is definitely moving into Max's personal space. The latter's mind has gone numb and her tongue has turned into lead and her heart is thumping wildly in her chest. She sits frozen, staring into Chloe's hungry blue eyes.

"Er…"

Chloe suddenly pulls back and bursts out laughing. It is a full, hearty laugh, just like when they were kids. Max thought she would never hear that carefree laugh again. Then she remembers she is supposed to be annoyed.

"You are an asshole, Chloe," says Max without any bite, while flicking the used cigarette at her best friend who is doubling over in hysterics.

"Man, you should have seen your face. Classic Max," says Chloe, still in between laughs.

Looking to pull a fast one on Chloe, Max grabs her beanie and puts it on her head instead. That successfully shut Chloe up, though Max is not prepared to see Chloe's sudden intense gaze on her.

"You are rockin' the look, BatMax."

"I try. This beanie is super comfortable. Did a boyfriend give it to you?"

"Well, something like that," Chloe says evasively, which is so unlike her.

"Not Nathan Prescott, I hope?"

"Ew, god, no," she says disgustedly. "What were you doing there anyway?"

"Well, stealing his medical supplies. We know Colonel Prescott's son would have plenty of stocks," Max answers nonchalantly. "Why were you there then?"

Chloe leans back and sighs. "I was looking for someone. A friend. She was supposed to report back weeks ago and she hasn't."

"So, a girl….friend?" Max asks, even though she already knows the answer.

"…..Something like that."

Well, dammit.