"This looks like the barn from every slasher movie ever," Steph proclaimed as they rounded the last bend in the road and the old building came into view.
The old Prescott farm was a long way from Arcadia Bay, up primitive roads lined with old evergreens and overgrown ferns. No one had bothered clearing or repairing the route since the storm. Six years of fallen branches and detritus made for slow going. Flooding had carved washouts, the worst of which had blocked the way for Ryan's Jeep. That had left them with two and a half miles of hiking if they wanted to reach their destination. Luckily, Ryan was always overprepared and had brought a hiking pack and enough water for all three of them. It had taken them until mid-afternoon to complete their trek, made arduous by the change in elevation and constantly having to route around or over debris, not to mention the fact that the trio had hardly gotten any rest.
The trio ducked through the gate and approached the decrepit structure, rotting planks and orange-brown crusted metal towering above them. Normally Steph would be more excited about exploring a creepy, abandoned building. But for obvious reasons, this felt different.
Alex took a deep breath next to Steph and let it out in an even, controlled stream, her eyes closed.
"You sure you're going to be alright?" Ryan asked softly. The question was ostensibly directed at Alex, but he looked at Steph as he asked it. Whatever he saw made his brow scrunch with worry.
Alex nodded and opened her eyes. "Yeah. Let's go."
I should've been the one to ask if she was okay, Steph thought, chastising herself for not being quicker before remembering Alex could read her mind.
Ryan walked ahead and gave the ancient-looking handle screwed to the door a tug. Then, not getting the desired result, really leaned into it. This result was even less desirable. With a squeaking pop the screws broke free. The door had budged maybe an inch. Ryan glared at the handle in perturbed disappointment, lips squeezed into a thin line.
"Having trouble?" Steph asked with a snarky grin.
Ryan rolled his eyes and dropped the handle on the ground with a clang. He hooked the tips of his fingers around the edge of the door and gave a strong pull, grunting as the door started to slide slowly then all at once. It rattled and groaned on its rusting track, opening to the dark void inside. Ryan looked at Steph and smirked as he waved her and Alex inside. "No trouble at all."
Steph stuck her tongue out at him as she entered the barn.
The interior didn't quite live up to Steph's expectations. No bloody hooks or weird, cultish artifacts. Though there was a rusty pitchfork propped up against the wall. Mostly it was just moldy hay, some old crates, and a disintegrating tractor that may have been older than Steph, Alex, and Ryan combined. Steph still felt an icy chill work its way through her spine as she thought about everything that had happened just beneath their feet. That chill only got worse as they headed for the thick, steel trapdoor concealing the bunker's entrance.
It looked like no one had opened it in years, probably since around the time of the storm. Leaves and bits of other detritus littered the rust-spotted surface. A tatter of crime scene tape sat partially buried in the hay nearby.
"Should we really be going in here?" Ryan asked, having also spotted the tape, his voice just above a whisper.
Steph nudged him. "Boy scout afraid of breaking some rules?"
He shrugged. "We could get in a lot of trouble for disturbing a crime scene… but I guess the others could get in just as much if not more trouble for breaking into a house."
"I doubt anyone's coming back here any time soon," reminded Alex. "Jefferson is already in prison."
Ryan sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right. Help me lift this thing."
Steph and Alex grabbed the corners of the trap door while Ryan took the middle. It was tricky to get a good enough grip on the edges of the metal, but eventually they succeeded, hinging the door all the way open until it thudded into the ground on the other side. Concrete stairs led down to a short corridor to a vault door, exactly as Max and Chloe had described. There was a light fixture on the wall, but it remained unlit.
Steph used the light on her phone to examine the keypad, quickly finding the three buttons with the most wear and reading the numbers back to Alex, who found the corresponding code on the cheat sheet. Steph punched it in. The light on the pad turned green with a beep, and Ryan immediately started turning the crank on the front of the door. They could all hear a metallic scraping punctuated by a resounding clunk as the locking bolts retracted out of the way. Ryan swung the door open.
Pitch darkness greeted them.
The light from Steph's phone was harsh, illuminating steel racks stacked with canned food and bottles of water in harsh contrast to the shadows cast around them. Alex and Ryan pulled out their own phones. An industrial, stainless steel sink fixture and hot water heater stood against the tiled wall opposite the entry.
"Talk about creepy," Alex said quietly.
Ryan found a light switch and flipped it a couple times to no avail. "Power's out. The keypad must be connected to a separate source, maybe a battery or something."
Steph looked ahead and to their left, through semi-clear plastic curtains that hung from a rail in the ceiling. "Picking up on anything yet, Alex?" She stepped cautiously forward.
"No, nothing. What's up there?"
With her free hand, Steph pushed the curtain aside.
Everything seemed to be grayscale, from the dull walls and cabinets to the black couch with pale cushions. The couch faced an enormous, vinyl backdrop that stretched out in front of it before running up to the ceiling. A gray chair stood in the center of the artificial, white field. Strips of torn duct tape still clung to the arm rests and legs. Silver-trimmed travel boxes were stacked at the edges of the room. Even the framed photos on the walls – eerily artistic shots of naked women in bondage – were shades of black and white. Steph felt nauseous.
Ryan fumbled with the latch on one of the cabinets. "Let's do what we came here for and leave – I don't want to be here any longer than we have to."
"Seconded," agreed Alex, her voice hoarse and quiet. Steph looked over to see her standing next to the couch, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.
Needing to keep herself busy, Steph swallowed the lump in her throat and knelt to open one of the travel containers. There was nothing inside, a few indentations in the foam lining the only indicator that it had ever, well, contained anything. The next container was the same. She heard the cabinet doors finally open, the hinges letting out a squeak.
"Empty," Ryan proclaimed, somehow sounding both disappointed and relieved. "Steph?"
Just to confirm, Steph opened another container and shook her head. "Same here. Looks like the police must've taken all the evidence they could."
Alex had wandered over to the chair. Her fingertips hovered just above the arm rest, and Steph could hear her breathing grow shallow and quick.
"Hey, you don't look so good," said Steph, getting up and taking a few steps toward Alex.
"Yeah, I'm… I'm okay." Alex had gone pale, swaying slightly on her feet. "Just think I need to…"
Steph felt a spike of fear as she rushed over to steady Alex, barely managing to catch her. "Woah, easy there."
Alex practically pushed her away before harshly exclaiming, "I need some air." She hastily retreated toward the entrance and out of sight.
Ryan and Steph exchanged a worried glance.
"I'm okay down here," said Ryan quietly. "I'll keep looking if you want to go check on her." He tossed her a bottle of water. "Maybe this'll help."
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." Steph took a deep breath, a little hurt by how Alex had reacted but trying to keep the situation in mind.
Heading back up the stairs was like emerging into a whole different world. Steph hadn't noticed the way the sun peeked through the decaying wood-plank walls on their way in, the sepia light a stark contrast to the cold monochrome below. Having regained a connection, Steph's phone buzzed in her back pocket. She made a note to check it later.
Alex wasn't there. Hearing a noise from outside, Steph left the barn.
Sure enough, Alex leaned against the front gate, arms crossed and eyes downcast.
"Hey, you okay?" Steph carefully asked.
A gust of wind rustled at the tall grass and made the barn groan. Alex's tone was still harsh as she said, "I'm fine."
Steph decided to push, albeit gently. "I know what 'fine' looks like, and this isn't it. C'mon, you can talk to me."
"I said it's fine!" Alex snapped. "Why do you feel like you need to keep treating me like I'm some fragile little doll?"
The words came out before Steph could stop them, sounding more annoyed than she'd wished. "Because I think I'm in love with you, and I don't want you to get hurt, okay!?"
They both stood in stunned silence, staring at each other. Shit. I… actually said that out loud. Steph felt embarrassed warmth spread across her cheeks and through her ears.
"I know," Alex said, some of her calm having returned as she interrupted Steph's thought.
"Then why didn't you, I dunno, say something maybe?" Steph put her hands on her hips as the irritation returned. "It's fine if you just aren't interested, but like… seriously. It's kinda shitty to just leave me on the hook."
It was Alex's turn to look embarrassed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It just feels really manipulative using my power like that."
"Manipulative?" Scoffing, Steph leaned against the truck beside Alex. "It's not like you've been hiding your powers from Ryan and I, or anyone else in our party. You frequently tell us when you can see what we're feeling. I know you can read my mind."
"I don't know how to explain it, Steph. Using it like that, especially with someone I care about so much…" Alex shook her head. "I've never been in anything serious with anyone before. Not for long, at least. Somehow my power always fucks it up. I'm worried if we tried to be something more, I'd lose you as a friend too."
"I wouldn't let that happen – we wouldn't let that happen." Steph's phone vibrated again. Actually, it had been going off unnoticed for a good deal of their conversation. She tried to ignore it and keep talking but the double-buzz of a missed call demanded her attention. She grumbled and pulled the phone from her pocket, apologizing to Alex before looking at her notifications.
They were all from Karen.
It only took a second to see what the texts were about. "Alex, we need to get Ryan and go, now!"
Alex looked bewildered. "What's going on?"
"No time!" Steph ran back into the barn. Her and Alex's conversation would have to wait.
Evening was rapidly approaching by the time Alex, Steph, and Ryan made it back to the hotel.
"I still have access to the camera system." Mikey tapped frantically at his keyboard then stopped, eyes getting wider as seconds ticked by. "This isn't good."
"What!?" Steph demanded, pushing closer to the laptop screen. "What do you see!?"
With a click of the mouse Mikey's screen replaced the view of his home office and worry-twisted face. The security camera program played back three feeds. In the top right they all watched as Sean Prescott's car parked next to Chloe's truck. He got out and hurried inside. Reappearing through a window on the bottom left, he waited outside the bunker door. Max emerged from below, only to get hit in the back of the head with a fire extinguisher.
Alex grimaced as Max toppled out of view. "I'm guessing by the fact that we're seeing this, Max hasn't rewound?"
"That's at least a concussion," Ryan added.
They watched as David came barreling up the same way Max had. He stopped in place, jaw clenching and eyes narrowing as he must have spotted Sean. A second later he flinched backward, clutching his shoulder, a dark stain spreading out from under his fingers. Karen gasped.
"Oh my god," said Alex. "Did he just get shot?"
"It's been hours. We need to do something!" Steph leapt to her feet and began to pace. "Mikey – can you still tamper with the feeds so we could get in the back door?"
Mikey nodded. "Easily enough."
Steph kept pacing and tapped a finger on her lip, thinking. "Good. Then we can break in and get them out."
"He's going to be ready for us," Karen reminded. "Even with the security system dealt with, we should wait until sundown."
"Go right in the back door and get them out," Alex agreed.
"I don't think it's gonna be that simple, guys." Mikey was still watching the cameras. They showed a different view. One in Sean's office showed Sean dragging David's unconscious form into his office. That meant not only did they have to get into the bunker, but they also had to get David from the second floor. Steph felt her heart sink.
They needed another idea. But with less than twelve hours before the storm hit, they were running out of time. Steph just hoped Chloe and Max had figured out a way to stop the storm before Sean had found them.
Chloe strained against the zipties, battering them against the pipe. It was no use. Even if Sean hadn't tightened them so much that they bit into Chloe's wrists and threatened to cut off her circulation, she had too little coordination or strength with her hands behind her back to even start figuring out a way to escape. Nonetheless Chloe tried again, letting out a frustrated growl, trying to use her anger to fight back the feelings of paralyzing desperation that threatened to creep in. As with her dozens of attempts before, the only result was even more discomfort in her wrists and shoulders.
Fuck!
She let out an explosive sigh and slid down the pipe until she sat cross-legged on the cold floor. She didn't know what time it was, but it felt like she'd been stuck to that damn pipe forever.
Max stirred nearby, letting out a pained groan. She'd been in and out of consciousness for a bit, mumbling incoherently to herself.
Still, as with every time before, Chloe tried to get a response. "Max – hey, can you hear me?"
"Chloe?" Max murmured back. Some of Chloe's tension released – but only some. She could only see the back of Max's head, where blood matted her hair from Sean knocking her out.
Max tried to curl into the fetal position only to find her wrists similarly zipped to the leg of a storage rack. "What – no no no NO NO!" She started to flop about violently, suddenly unaffected by the pain, trying to break herself free in a panic. Her head bumped the floor. Max yelped but kept struggling, breathing in quick gasps.
Chloe bit her lip as fear and rage combined, stuffing the erupting feelings back down until they were useful. Max doesn't need me freaking out right now. "Slow down, Max," Chloe said as soothingly as she could manage. Her voice still managed to crack. "You're going to hyperventilate." It took a moment, but eventually Max's breathing began to even out. "Good. That's good."
Max tried to turn to look at Chloe, but the makeshift restraints made it almost impossible. "Did he hurt you, Chloe? Where's David?" she asked, her voice a trembling whimper.
"I'm fine." Chloe looked in the direction of the bunker door, where David had gone after hearing Max tumble back down the stairs. Where the gunshot had come from before Sean had emerged, faint curls of smoke rising from the pistol in his hand. Grateful that Max couldn't see her face, she said, "Sean… hurt David."
There were a few seconds of silence before Max said, "Do you think he…?"
"I don't know." Chloe choked back the morbid thoughts that had been plaguing her. Thinking about it is just gonna make it worse. Gotta be strong for Max. "Do you think you can rewind?"
"My… my head. It really hurts, Chloe," Max said quietly. "I can try though." She splayed out the fingers of her right hand as much as she could, straining to make anything happen. Almost immediately she let out a pained cry and curled her knees up to her chest.
Chloe took a deep breath. Let it out. "Okay, let's not try that again, at least not for a while." She wondered how much damage Sean had done when he'd hit Max in the head – a concussion was probably the best-case scenario. A trip to the hospital was definitely in order. One thing at a time. We need to find a way out of here first.
"Chloe, I'm really scared," Max whispered.
"I know, me too," said Chloe, looking for anything useful. Max being awake meant that there were a few more options. "Do you see anything around you that we might be able to use to break these zipties?"
Max was breathing faster again. It was as if she hadn't even heard Chloe's question. "I don't think I can do this again, Chloe!" she squeaked through tightening vocal cords.
Her own adrenaline going again, Chloe couldn't stop the pitch of her own voice from climbing. "Don't say that. We've gotten out of crazier, right? Deep breaths, Max, in through the nose and out through the mouth." Chloe could see the rise and fall of Max's chest slow, the anxiety attack coming under at least a little better control. "Good. You're doing good. We're the most feared pirates of Arcadia Bay, right? Nothing can stop us, not once we figure out how to get past it."
"Partners in crime," Max managed to agree, still barely above a whimper but at least a little calmer. "There's… something on the shelf above me. I'll see if I can get it down."
Chloe nodded. "Perfect."
Max struggled to get into a position that would allow her to access the object with her foot, having to stop a few times to rest. Chloe thought again about the hospital they desperately needed to visit. Finally Max managed to hook the tip of her shoe over the edge of the shelf and, after a few tries, knocked what turned out to be a can of baked beans onto the floor. It skittered and rolled across the concrete of the storage room before coming to rest just out of reach of Max's straining legs. Chloe stretched out with her own feet but couldn't quite get to it either. After almost dislocating her shoulders trying to retrieve the beans, she gave up. Well Frank would be laughing his ass off. What the hell am I even supposed to do with that if I could reach it?
"Is that gonna work?" Max asked hopefully.
Chloe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, stopping herself from snapping at her girlfriend. "Is there anything else, maybe?"
Sounding like she was slipping towards unconsciousness again, Max said, "I'll keep looking."
It was time.
The four figures crept through thick underbrush toward the rear entrance of Sean Prescott's bunker using nothing but moonlight to see. Mikey was on overwatch, keeping an eye on the cameras for any significant changes while also making sure none of it recorded to the server. So far, the Prescott residence was quiet.
Ryan nudged Alex's shoulder and pointed up at the sky.
Up through the spiny silhouettes of fir needles she saw it, plain as day.
There were two moons.
Alex looked at Ryan, bewildered. He shrugged back, having just as few answers. She glanced back up at the astronomical anomaly. That doesn't seem like a good sign…
Steph and Karen were already at the mossy door, working to input the code. The keypad flashed green. Karen grabbed the wheel and cranked the bolts open with a concerningly loud screech. Luckily they didn't plan to stick around long enough to find out if anyone heard it.
The door heaved open and Karen whispered, "Go!"
Caged lightbulbs hummed to life one by one as the group filed into the concrete tunnel, its construction reminiscent of the entrance to the bunker Alex, Steph, and Ryan had visited that afternoon.
"Well, we're definitely in the right place," Ryan muttered.
Up ahead was another door, also made of metal but with a more standard handle. Karen burst through, fists up, ready for a fight.
The room they found themselves in was quite different that Alex had expected. Warm, yellow light gave the large space a homier feel. There were multiple chambers, furniture, rugs… like the fallout shelter equivalent of the mansion above.
"Chloe? Max!?" Steph called as she ran past Karen.
Purple energy glimmered from the right, at the edge of Alex's peripheral vision, barely visible past Steph's own fear. There was a tired groan. From the same direction came a rustling noise. "Steph?" Alex heard Chloe croak.
Alex turned and peered into the adjoining passage, lined on one side with stainless steel racking stacked with nonperishables. Chloe was propped against the wall, arms twisted behind her as her face lit up with relief. Max groggily lifted her head from the floor to look at her rescuers, eyes vacant.
"They're here!" Alex shouted. Steph rushed over to Chloe as Alex checked on Max. Her hands were ziptied to the racking. "Ryan, knife!"
Ryan knelt down and made quick work of the ties before going to free Chloe. Max pulled her arms in protectively and rubbed her wrists. "David… you have to help David…"
"We know," Karen said, jaw set and muscles tense. "Ryan, with me."
Chloe stood. "I'm coming too." The purple hues she'd radiated only moments earlier had begun to shift, the crimson tendrils of fury quickly blending with, then overtaking everything else. For a moment it looked like Karen was going to argue, but Chloe doubled down. "I'm his family. It's not up for debate."
Ryan shrugged at Karen and she reluctantly yielded. "Okay, let's go."
The trio hurried out of sight, Chloe leading the way.
"Did you find out how to stop the storm?" Steph asked, helping Max sit up.
Alex could barely hear Max's muddled thoughts, like they were slowly sinking in molasses. Sean must have hit her pretty damn hard.
Max shook her head slowly, wincing. "No. But we found some documents." Her words were slurred and quiet. She lazily pointed behind her. "That room, near the file cabinets. Maybe has what we need."
Steph and Alex exchanged a worried look. This would probably be their only chance to get the information that would save the town, and Max seemed to be growing more lucid as time went on, but neither of them wanted to leave her alone.
"Okay," said Steph, nodding emphatically and doing her best to be reassuring. "We'll check it out. But you have to get up and come with us, 'kay? You know more about the storm than anyone else at this point, and we're probably going to need your help."
Max lifted her fist, thumb raised. "M'kay."
Alex and Steph helped Max to her feet and supported her between them as they moved to the next room. Papers were scattered haphazardly across the floor. They lowered Max into a chair and shuffled through the yellowed documents, trying to glean anything of use.
One page caught Alex's eye as she skimmed. It read like an old story, tapped out on a typewriter with a few misaligned letters. About halfway in, she handed it to Max. "Take a look – does this make any sense to you?"
Max's eyes scanned back and forth as she worked her way down the page, growing wider the further she went. "The fire that wiped out the village was an accident. If the rest of this is true…"
"It would explain what kept the storm from coming for so long."
"One of the survivors of the fire made a deal with the Thunderbird," Max concluded. "There were conditions."
Steph looked up, her lips pulled into a thin line. "The conditions – what are they?"
"It looks like they're the reason a vessel is required in the first place." Max shook her head, looking like she didn't fully believe it. "The Thunderbird agreed not to wipe the settlers from Arcadia Bay except through someone born here, with unnatural abilities, who had been directly harmed by the Prescotts."
"That definitely means it couldn't have been Rachel," Steph pointed out. "She was born in California. Talked about how she missed it all the time."
Blue sorrow began to seep from Max's skin as the implications sunk in. "That leaves… me."
"Maybe not," offered Alex, trying to fend off the guilt she could feel building in Max. "Were you directly harmed by the Prescotts before the first storm?"
"What does that even mean!?" Max exclaimed in sudden exasperation, abruptly standing and nearly losing her balance in the process. "I've never even met Sean until he hit me in the head with a goddamn fire extinguisher today! Nathan didn't hit me, but I watched him beat up Warren, I watched him fucking murder Chloe. They're the reason my family had to move away, with all the jobs drying up and my parents barely making the house payments. Yeah, it's on me that I didn't talk to Chloe for almost five years. But I wouldn't even have been in that position if it wasn't for them! So sure, I'd say they 'directly harmed' me." She collapsed back into the chair, her energy spent. Tears welled in her eyes. "I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this."
"But it looks like maybe Sean did." Steph held up the piece of paper she'd been examining before Alex had presented her findings to Max. "It's a letter from his father."
Alex took it and read, unable to hold back a gasp. "The Prescotts wanted to use the curse against their family to wipe the slate clean – clear out everyone with the storm, then rebuild it as a resort town. They hired Jefferson specifically to hurt people to cause the storm, not prevent it."
Steph scoffed. "Looks like they pulled it off. Not for long, though."
"These people don't deserve to die any more than your mom, or Joyce, or anyone else. We still have to stop it," pleaded Max. "But how?"
Alex thought, not liking where it led. The match spontaneously combusting in the hotel bathroom kept replaying in her mind. I absorbed Rachel's powers like they were any other emotion, she remembered. And I can take emotions away… She bit her lip, not sure she could – not sure she should – even follow through with the idea that leapt to mind.
The thundering of footsteps interrupted her thoughts. Seconds later Ryan and Karen emerged, practically dragging David between them. Cuts and bruises marred his face, one darkened eyelid nearly swollen shut. Gauze had been hastily wrapped around his shoulder, blood already seeping through. Max rushed forward and threw her arms around David. In a strained groan, David said, "Max, I'm glad you're okay."
Max pulled back and looked around. "Wh… where's Chloe?"
Ryan was quickest to answer, spewing out words with adrenaline-fueled urgency. "Sean left just before we got there. Chloe grabbed his gun and headed after him."
It looked like Max was ready to hit Ryan. "And you didn't think to stop her!?"
Karen stepped between them. "She slipped out while we were helping David."
"I'm sorry," blurted Ryan, his free hand raised defensively. "It was so quick – the front door hadn't even closed when I heard her truck start."
Steph left Alex's side to join Max. "We have to go after her!"
Ryan fished in his pocket, finding his keys and tossing them to Steph. "You and Alex get the car and meet us around front."
Unrelenting sheets of rain battered the windshield of Chloe's truck as its engine screamed at high RPM. Worn wipers fought in vain against the onslaught. Visibility was almost nonexistent, sticks and leaves ripped from the trees by the howling wind flitting by as indistinct, dark blurs. Chloe practically stood on the gas pedal, willing in vain that the truck go faster. A powerful gust caught the side of the truck and nearly sent Chloe careening off the slick road. She wordlessly corrected, glaring eyes never leaving the streaky, red blotches of Sean Prescott's tail lights as they grew larger and larger in her view. Soon the truck's rusty, dented bumper was only feet from the back of the car.
Chloe was debating what to do when she realized- too late- that the road veered right less than a hundred feet ahead. Bright red burned brighter as Sean put on the brakes.
"Fuck!"
Everything was noise and commotion. Metal crashed and tore. Tires screeched as Sean's car rotated to one side. Chloe's bumper crunched into the sedan's passenger doors. Their inertia carried them both into the muddy dirt. Bits of glass pelted Chloe's truck like a shotgun blast. The gun flew from her passenger seat, lost to the floor. For a moment it looked as if Sean's car was going to flip, but instead they ground to a stop a few dozen feet from the missed corner.
The ensuing silence felt like a void before the clatter of the rain faded back into Chloe's senses.
Chloe breathed hard, eyes wide, marveling that she was still alive. Pale steam wisped from the hood of the truck. She smelled the sweet odor of spilled coolant. The engine had stopped somewhere in the crash, ticking as it cooled. One functional headlight illuminated dull gray streaks of bare metal where the paint had been scraped from the side of Sean's car.
Chloe could see Sean's silhouette moving in the sedan's driver seat. Images of an unconscious Max and a badly beaten David flashed through her mind. I'm not letting you get away you fucker. This ends right here, right now. Dazed but determined, she fumbled with the seatbelt latch before finally freeing herself. Gun, I need the gun… Pain lanced through Chloe's ribs as she leaned over to search, making her wince and inhale sharply. But she didn't have time to waste. A few seconds later, her rummaging fingers found the rough polymer of the pistol's grip. She snatched it up and forced the truck door open with one foot.
Sean had gotten out of his car and was staggering toward the road.
Chloe's legs wobbled beneath her, her feet squishing and sliding in the mud. She followed him back to the road and lifted the gun in one shaky hand. The sights settled on Sean's back.
She wanted to see his eyes when she pulled the trigger.
"Stop!" Chloe shouted.
Time seemed to slow as Sean turned. An object in his hand glinted, then a loud BANG tore the night in two. Fire punched through Chloe's stomach as the pistol dropped from her hand and clattered to the asphalt.
She should have known he'd have a second gun.
Sean turned and ran, disappearing into the storm.
Chloe clutched at the blood welling from her gut, gasping for air but finding none, turning her gaze down to the wound in disbelief as her knees buckled and she collapsed.
Ryan's Jeep hurtled through the rain. Max looked at the clock – just after midnight, and the storm was already bearing down on Arcadia Bay.
"Maybe Chloe has the right idea," said Steph bitterly. "If Sean dies, that's the last of the Prescotts and this all ends – right?"
"I'm okay with that," David grunted through clenched teeth. "But he's dangerous. If he gets to Chloe first…"
Max's head still pounded, each bump in the road only making it worse. "I still can't rewind."
She felt a hand gently rest on her shoulder. "We're gonna find her before anything else bad happens," promised Steph, sounding like she was trying to assure herself as much as Max.
Alex spoke up, having stayed quiet since they'd left Sean's mansion. "There might be another way." The words were clipped, like she was trying to keep them from escaping. Max got the impression she wasn't going to like whatever Alex had to say. "The vessel needs to have some sort of unnatural power, right?"
If she hadn't before, Alex now had Max's undivided attention. No one else spoke, so Alex continued.
"After the junkyard, I think I temporarily absorbed some of Rachel's powers. I got mad and accidentally lit a matchbook on fire in the bathroom earlier." As if sensing Max's next question, Alex explained, "In all the years I've been able to see people's emotions, I've never done something like that."
"… And you think maybe you can do that with me?"
Alex nodded. Shook her head. Shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. Like I said, it isn't exactly something I've tried before. If I can, I also don't know what kind of effect it would have on you."
Max took a deep breath and thought. "Only after we find Chloe and make sure she's okay."
Ryan sounded on edge as he interjected, "Got an accident up ahead."
Max craned her neck to get a better look as they approached, seeing the tan tailgate of a familiar truck looming out of the downpour. "Oh no…"
A body slumped on the edge of the road, illuminated by their headlights. Ryan brought the Jeep to a halt and everyone piled out, Max sprinting to Chloe's side. Her heart sank as she saw the blood spreading around Chloe's abdomen, her girlfriend's scarlet-stained hands clutched the wound.
"Chloe – no!"
Chloe gasped like a fish tossed to the shore, struggling to suck in whatever air she could muster as Max and David sprinted to either side of her. David immediately pushed Chloe's hands aside and put pressure on the burbling opening. She screamed through clenched teeth at the sudden pain. "Ryan – gauze, now!" David barked.
Max shook and shuddered as she raised a palm. Time flew in reverse like whiplash, leaving Max still at Chloe's side. David rushed in and put pressure on the wound, just as he had before. "Ryan – gauze, now!"
Again Max tried, this time only postponing David's arrival another couple seconds.
She raised her hand again. A few more seconds.
Again. Her head pounded and she doubled over, but she was unwilling to stop until Chloe was safe.
Again. Something hot and sticky ran from her nostrils, collecting at the edge of her top lip.
Again. Her vision sparked flashes of red and orange.
Again. Chloe, grabbing her hand, eyes glassy and scared, a bullet still in her stomach.
Max's power was still too weak. She couldn't go back far enough.
"NO!"
Max grasped at the air, screaming and willing time to bend to her command. Instead the taste of copper trickled into her mouth. Something stabbed behind her eyes. The world spun into darkness.
"I tried to warn you. Why didn't you listen?"
Max's eyes flew open. The ease her mind tried to find in the familiarity of the Two Whales Diner evaporated immediately. It wasn't possible for her to be there, not in the real world at least. Even more disturbing was the reflection of herself that sat across the table, reclining in the polyester booth in the same gray sweatshirt she'd worn on her last visit to the eatery, looking at Max like she was an uninteresting insect.
"Not even going to respond?" the other Max asked, an unimpressed edge glimmering just below the surface.
"Wh-why?"
The other Max rolled her eyes. "Because I asked you a question, dumbass."
Anger and desperation roiled into Max's voice like a rapidly forming thunderhead. "Why am I here, why now? Why again?"
"Because you don't listen." Other Max shook her head disdainfully. "Because you fucked with time again, all to save someone who was supposed to be dead. You set the thunderbird free."
Max felt desperate rage lance through her chest as she stood, slapping her hands down on the table. "I won't let her die!"
With a dismissive shrug, other Max looked out the window. "I'm not giving you a choice this time. Rachel learned her lesson, it's time for you to learn yours."
Max paced furiously. "Then take me instead!"
"In due time." Other Max chuckled. "Time – what a fickle thing. Don't you think?"
A snarl rose in Max's throat. She grabbed her doppelganger by the shoulders and shoved her back against the booth. "Let me go!"
From behind her came another voice, husky and sad. Max didn't immediately recognize it. "No. You have to let Chloe go."
Startled, Max looked over her shoulder.
She had only seen the young woman in pictures up until then. But there she stood, the torn, red flannel that had been tucked in Chloe's closet draped over her slender shoulders and a turquoise feather dangling from one ear. She was even more enchanting face to face. She stared back at Max with a certain familiarity in her eyes. Bruises marred her neck from Jefferson's hands. Max's mouth went dry and she hoarsely whispered back, "… Rachel?"
Other Max squirmed out of Max's grasp. "The one and—"
"Shut the fuck up!" Max snapped, spinning back to her doppelganger. "I'm done talking to you!" Then, getting up and turning toward Rachel, she asked, "How are you here?"
Rachel ignored the question. "Give her back to me," she begged. "Please."
Cupped gently in Rachel's hands was a single polaroid photograph, its two torn halves taped together again. The familiar colors were distorted by moisture and wear. Max cautiously took it.
Even with the damage, she could make out a blue butterfly atop a steel bucket.
Max took a clumsy step back. It felt like someone had shot ice into her veins, like Jefferson had stuck her again with his needle. "No. No, I can't do that."
"Please, Max…"
"No!" she shouted. "You abandoned Chloe – for Frank, for Jefferson! I won't let you hurt her again! You don't deserve her!"
"And you do?" other Max scoffed behind her. "I seem to remember you abandoning Chloe for five years with hardly so much as a text."
"I said shut the fuck up!"
Rachel moved hesitantly closer, like she was approaching to comfort a cornered animal. "You left and she had no one. Not her dad. Not her mom, at least not really – she stopped caring about her when she found David. Steph and Mikey only cared out of pity. She needed me, Max. The only reason she saw you as worth talking to again was because I was gone."
Jefferson's disembodied voice reverberated through the room, echoing words he'd said to her in the dark room. "They're fucking together in heaven right now – is that what you want to hear?"
"No!" Max sobbed. She fell to her knees, burying her face in her hands.
"Think of all the people you let die trying to keep her from me," Rachel pleaded. Ghostly figures began to materialize in the diner. Dana, holding the slight bump in her stomach. Warren and Brooke, locked in a final embrace. Frank in the far corner, Pompidou curled up next to his foot. Officer Barry. Justin and Trevor. Daniel. Stella. Samuel. Miss Grant. Principal Wells. Truckers and fishermen. Over a dozen others populated the room, faces she'd seen around town. None made her heart sink quite as far as the last one though, blonde hair pulled back from her face in a tight ponytail, standing behind the counter with a coffee pot in hand.
"Joyce…"
"She treated you like a mother when your own parents were too busy. You let Joyce die, Max," accused Rachel. "Just like you let all of them die. All to keep Chloe for yourself when she should've been with me." Rachel's eyes had begun to change, harsh and hungry. "You don't get it, Max." Flames licked up from the floor around Rachel's boots. Max tried to back away. Nightmare. This has to be a nightmare. This can't be real. Fire engulfed Rachel's hands, which she raised at Max. "If I can't have her… no one can."
Turning to run, Max found her route was blocked. With a horrendous tearing noise, wings sprouted from other Max's back and crashed against the ceiling. Her doppelganger's eyes clouded over ink-black and talons burst from where her fingers had been. For a moment they stared at each other, motionless, until other Max's jaw dropped open and let out an ear-piercing shriek.
They attacked Max simultaneously. Fire filled the room. Roaring. Devouring. Rippling across the ceiling in orange waves. The facsimiles of Arcadia Bay's dead residents crumbled to ash in the inferno. Polyester seats charred and melted.
Max dropped low to keep herself out of the flames, still feeling them singe at her face and arms, barely managed to escape grasping talons in the process. She ducked past Rachel and sprinted for the front door. Both hands grasped the stainless steel bar and pushed, but it held fast. She frantically tried the door next to it. Nothing. "Fuck… FUCK…!" Max lunged back into the center of the room only to get struck to the floor by a mass of feather and bone. Her face smacked the cold tile, sending stars shooting through her vision. She clawed for purchase on anything within reach that might save her. Rachel stood over Max and cocked her head to one side. Her flesh had turned to emaciated, gray-brown decay. Not real, just a nightmare, just a nightmare, Max willed herself to believe, but it sure as hell felt real. She looked up at Rachel's cruel, skeletal grin, dried lips pulled taught from yellowed teeth, feeling the heat begin to prickle at her exposed skin…
Max closed her eyes and shielded her face. "STOOOOOOOPPPP!"
As if by her command, there was sudden, smothering silence.
Max peeked out from between her fingers.
KRAAW!
The unexpected noise almost sent Max scurrying backward. Rachel and the other Max were gone. There was no fire. Instead, a large, oily-black raven took two curious hops toward her. She stared at it, frozen in place, eyes wide and chest heaving, not sure if it was friend or foe.
Roooak it crowed softly before fluttering up to the counter. It hopped away from Max a little before turning back to stare at her.
Her heart still pounded, the smell of smoke still fresh in her nose.
"Do you want me… to follow you?"
The raven hopped a little further, looking back again. Max drug herself up off the floor. It stayed a few feet ahead of her until they reached the bathroom door on the other side of the diner, where it leapt to the tile and nudged the door with its head.
Max pushed the door open and stepped through.
She found herself standing on a muddy trail littered with pine needles. Wind battered her as it whistled through the trees. A swath of light washed through the treetops then was gone.
Up ahead was the lighthouse.
Max fought her way up the trail, catching glimpses of the storm through the branches and leaves. The rain felt like tiny icicles against her fire-reddened skin. On the sandstone bluff, a man in a familiar, brown leather jacket stood beside the bench Max and Chloe had sat at uncountable times together. His hands were in his pockets as he stared at the cyclone, slowly carving its way through the waves to destroy Arcadia Bay. It took Max far too long to realize who it was.
William turned as she arrived, immediately wrapping her in his arms. His leather jacket smelled like she remembered, before it had been saturated in Chloe's cigarette smoke.
"It's good to see you, Max," he said warmly. "I don't get out often and, as you can tell, the company isn't exactly the friendliest." He winked, but there was a weariness behind it. "This place has a way of preying on our worst fears."
"Chloe told me she's talked to you a few times. I always just thought—"
"That she was going crazy?" William laughed softly. "Maybe." He let go of her and sat on the bench. Max did the same. The raven hopped up behind them, its feathers fluttering violently in the wind. Somehow, though, it continued to cling to the backrest.
"The last time I was here was with her." It was the same day, she realized, seeing all the old buildings below yet to be torn to pieces. The diner, the water tower, the dingy little gas station with a red semi still parked out front – all still there. But not for long. Why do I have to see this again?
"She's dying, you know." William sounded tired. He hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees. It was a posture Max had seen Chloe adopt many times.
"I… I know. I have to get out of here and save her."
"I don't mean to sound like a downer, Max, but it might be too late." He turned his head to look at her, eyes downcast and forehead wrinkled with melancholy.
"Was it all pointless then?" Max asked desperately. "Sacrificing the town, letting so many lives be cut short, only to buy us another six years?" Was she back at the lighthouse – had Rachel handed her the polaroid – all so she'd have to make the same choice again?
"Would you trade getting back the years you lost together for anything?"
Max shook her head. "We didn't get back those five years. Nothing can bring those back."
"True," William conceded. "But you got six more you wouldn't have otherwise. Six years where she got to feel loved, where she could go on adventures and make new friends, reconnect with old ones… six years you two got to spend making memories together. Where you fell in love and helped each other heal." He placed a hand gently on Max's shoulder. "Everyone's life ends eventually. Superpowers or no. So let me ask again – would you trade all of that?"
It was too much. Tears clouded her vision and her throat tightened her voice into a sob. "I just didn't think it was going to end like this. I don't want it to end like this."
William pulled her in like a bird protecting its young from the weather. "I know. I don't want it to either."
After she'd managed to calm down a little, Max tried to answer William's question, looking down at the old polaroid in her hands. "No. I wouldn't trade it for anything," said Max, her voice shaking. A couple of tears continued to trickle from her eyes, mixing with the rain.
Nodding contently, William concluded, "Then I think you have your answer."
The storm was almost at the shore.
"It's time." William stood, helping Max up. She went to hug him one last time and instead found herself back in the real world, arms wrapped around Chloe. Ryan maintained pressure on Chloe's lower abdomen while David furiously packed the gunshot wound with gauze. Chloe was pale, her gasps for breath slower than when Max had blacked out. Blood was everywhere. It mixed with the rainwater and soaked into the knees of Max's jeans. Karen shouted their location into her phone, likely talking to EMS. Steph clutched Chloe's other hand to her chest, weeping unconsolably.
The wind was insane. A few hollow pops rang out, then a squeal before the rustling crash of a tree falling. Rain pummeled their backs. The storm was here. There was no time left.
"It's okay," Chloe whispered hoarsely into her ear, barely audible above the maelstrom. "Do… what you have… to. Save the world."
"Chloe, I love you so, so much…" Max leaned down to give Chloe a final kiss. Chloe's lips were cold and feeble. Her own words to Chloe from a few days ago played back through her head, hitting her like a punch to the gut. "I'll never trade you. Not now, not then. Never." There was no time left. "Alex!" Max shouted, biting back her tears. "We have to do it now!"
Alex stared at her, teetering uncertainly. "You aren't going to rewind!?"
Max clenched her fists. "I can't! My power… it isn't strong enough – we don't have a choice!"
Steph looked up at her, still grasping Chloe's hand, mouth agape in despair. She shook her head, lips moving numbly in a silent plea.
"You are my number one priority now. You are all that matters to me." There was no time to argue. "Just do it!"
Max wasn't sure if she was actually going to follow through, but after a few heartbeats Alex raised her hand, palm outstretched. She winced, turning her face partially away.
It felt like Max's nerves had been dipped in gasoline and set ablaze. She screamed, falling forward, catching herself with bare knuckles against the rough asphalt. Karen was immediately there, holding her steady. Max screamed again as spots danced in her vision. It was the worst pain she'd ever felt. It felt like she was going to die.
"Alex, stop!" Steph yelled. "You're killing her!"
The burning started to fade.
Can't stop. Need to save them. "Keep… going!" demanded Max through clenched teeth.
A fresh burst of white-hot pain washed over Max and she curled into the fetal position, muscles all contracting involuntarily. The last thing Max saw before the world faded yet again to black was the ghostly shape of a doe curled up on the pavement next to Chloe, its head resting on Chloe's chest. In the dying wind, a raven crowed.