The clouds drifted past the moon, giving Rachel plenty to see by as her whirlwind gently let her and Max down onto the grounds of American Rust. It felt bittersweet for Rachel to have the other girl cling to her so tightly like that; she would have loved to spend the evening soaring through Oregon's night sky with Max in her arms, watching the city lights below while the moon and stars floated above them. Instead, here they were, one of the many places in Arcadia she'd rather not be.
Now that they'd arrived, Max let go of her too quickly, anxious to find Chloe. Rachel watched her make a beeline for the hideout and ached to hold her again. So this was what it was like for Max these past two months. How strange to be on the other side of that window.
She trudged after the brunette, her feet testing the muddy ground as she went. They seemed to be alone; only a raven cawed from the roof of an abandoned tugboat. Up ahead, light spilled out from a washing machine that was burning from the inside.
"Chloe?" Max called as she neared the hideout. "Chloe, where are you?"
For a moment, nobody replied. Then, Chloe's voice floated through the air, "Over here!" And like a figure from a pop-up book, her gangly silhouette appeared at the shack's doorway. She sprinted towards Max and the two met in a hug.
Rachel couldn't suppress a gasp when she saw Chloe. The once vibrant blue was gone from hair, leaving only a washed-out sea green with traces of strawberry blonde. Rachel had loved that dyed blue hair from the moment she had laid eyes on it. Chloe had worn it proudly, like a badge, like a promise to bear half Rachel's sadness. The loss of it hurt more than the sight of them embracing and Chloe ignoring her completely.
Max disentangled herself from the taller girl, flashing Rachel a guilty look. Rachel forced herself to stay composed and walk past them. "So," she said to no one in particular, "where is she?"
Another figure appeared from the darkness of the shack. She stood ramrod straight as she gazed back at Rachel with a look of undisguised awe.
Max drew in a sharp breath. "Lulu?"
Lulu paid her no heed, her gaze remaining focused on Rachel. Bloody scratches adorned the bronzed skin of her arms, and her unbound hair was tangled with dead leaves. Then she did that thing her mother and grandmother did during the Skype call—she lowered her head and hid her eyes behind a raised forearm. And as before, Rachel felt unsure how to react.
But it didn't last long. Lulu dropped her arm, and there was fury in her eyes.
"Where were you, Incarnate?"
Rachel opened her mouth only to find no words to reply. The rage on Lulu's face would have stopped a riot.
At her silence, Lulu lunged toward her. "WHERE. WERE. YOU?"
The outburst caught Rachel off guard. But before she could say anything, Chloe stepped in, one hand gripping Lulu's shoulder. "Hey, HEY! Don't talk to her like that!"
Lulu pushed the taller girl aside with surprising strength, her gaze still locked onto Rachel's face. And though Rachel held her ground, she felt herself shrinking beneath the weight of those eyes. "I was right here," was all she could reply.
"Right here?" Lulu stood inches away, eyes level with hers. "And what good is it that you're here? Where were you ten years ago, when Prescott forced my tribe from our homes? Where were you three years ago when he took our sacred ground? Or even two days ago, when my family needed you? When I needed you?"
She fell to her knees, fingers digging into the dirt at Rachel's feet.
"Why are you never there when we need you most? We trusted in you! Believed in you! Loved you! But what good are you? What good are you? "
Lulu began to wail, her forehead lying on the ground. Chloe and Max exchanged looks of concern. Max approached and moved to touch the weeping girl, but Rachel beat her to it.
Rachel knelt beside Lulu and put her arms around her. Every sob shivered against her own flesh. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Lulu. But I'm here now. It's going to be alright. I promise I'll do everything to make this right."
Lulu didn't answer, but Rachel held on until her sobbing began to quiet down.
"Please, tell me what happened," Rachel continued. "Lulu, where's your family? Where are Tuhudda and Ada?"
Two Days Ago
Tuesday
Tuhudda grunted as she opened the door to the convenience store. The first thing to greet her eyes was the life-sized wooden statue of a cigar store Indian, grasping cigars in one hand while shading his eyes with the other as he gazed into the distance.
"You look like shit," she told the statue. "The locals haven't treated you well, have they? You should have come with us when you had the chance, we would've treated you like family. But I understand why you wanted to tough it out here where you were born. What are we without our dignity?"
The statue gazed stolidly on. Tuhudda turned away to take in the rest of the store, searching for Ada and Lulu.
They were in a tiny community called Glenwood, 50 miles east of Arcadia Bay. In another hour or two, they would finally reach their destination after days spent sleeping in trailer camps and resting at the roadside.
She spotted her daughter by the aisle for bottled water. Ada was doing a good job of keeping them within budget. It didn't take second sight to know that if they got stuck in Arcadia Bay without cash, they'd be easy targets for harassment by Prescott's minions.
Prescott. The man, the myth, the monster.
Meanwhile, Lulu was in the souvenirs section. She had, thankfully, not picked up any chips or cookies, likely heeding her mother's warning about her putting on a pound or two. Instead, Lulu was admiring a necklace from a revolving display stand, holding a few up against her neck and checking her reflection in a mirror. Tuhudda wished they could spare some money to let Lulu be a girl.
Then she spotted the cashier, a heavy-set blonde woman with dark brows that had crumpled together, watching Lulu like a hawk on a hare. Tuhudda sighed. Best to head off trouble before it occurred.
She stumped over to the cashier, smiling as she approached. "Good morning. How's the day been treating you?"
The woman shifted her attention to her, though her expression didn't change. "You know how it is. Help you with anything?"
"We got a bit turned around," Tuhudda said. "I was wondering if you could help me with some directions to Culmination Peak.
"It ain't called that no more. Governor renamed it Culmination State Park in '97. You gotta take that road to the Oregon Coast Highway and head on up to Tillamook..." The cashier was giving her full attention now—nothing like the feeling of superiority that comes with explaining things to a newcomer.
Suddenly, the cashier tilted to the side and shouted, "Hey miss! You gotta pay for that! HEY! "
Blinking, Tuhudda turned to see her granddaughter marching out of the store with a silver necklace clasped in her hands. The girl's head was tilted back, her mouth had fallen open like she was gaping at something on the ceiling. Her eyes were round and all white.
"Lulu!" Tuhudda's pulse quickened as she lunged after her granddaughter. She knew the telltale signs of a vision, but she also knew she couldn't begin to explain that to the store owner.
"Put that back or I'm calling the police!" cried the blonde woman, picking up her cell.
Spirits, what a nightmare. "It's fine," Tuhudda called out, "She's having an episode. Let us take care of it." Unfortunately, Tuhudda's old legs couldn't carry her fast enough to catch up. She motioned to Ada who had hurried out from an adjoining aisle. Together, the pair of them lurched through the exit.
Thankfully, Lulu hadn't gone far; they found her kneeling by the side of the dusty road, her head still turned to the sky, her outstretched arms taut as wires. A low aaaaaah resonated from her throat, and her eyes still looked like smooth white stones drawn from a brook.
They knelt beside her, taking her gently by the shoulders. "Lulu," Ada whispered, "it's Mama. You'll be alright now. We're here for you." But both of them knew better than to disturb a vision when it came—not only was the information vital, but forcing someone out of a trance could be dangerous. Best to wait for Lulu to come out on her own.
After several minutes when they whispered comforting words in her ears, Lulu's eyes finally rolled forward and her gaping mouth closed. She slumped against her mother. "Did—I —"
"You had a vision," Tuhudda stated, putting a hand on her arm. "Was it important, Mu'a? What did you see?"
Lulu's eyes fluttered shut. Her lips quivered as she murmured her answer as if she were still dreaming. "I saw fire. The forest in flames, smoke in the night sky, Arcadia Bay surrounded by burning trees..."
"Lulu," Ada said, "you were dreaming of the Great Fire. That was three years ago. We saw that before—"
"No!" Lulu's eyes snapped open, strength coming back to her voice. "This is the future, I know it. The fire reaches the town. Arcadia Bay burns."
Tuhudda stared at her granddaughter. Visions were tricky, dangerous things, like grabbing a blade in the dark. Her people believed them to be dreams from your future self, though they only ever helped others, not the seer.
"This is the will of the Incarnate?" Ada asked. Lulu nodded.
"Can it be stopped?" asked Tuhudda.
Before Lulu could answer, they were interrupted by the screech of a police siren. A patrol car was pulling into the parking lot. The shop owner emerged from the store as the cop stepped out of the vehicle. Tuhudda drew in a sharp breath as the ten-gallon hat and the dark shades came into view.
"Sheriff Skinner."
The cop did a slow roll of his shoulders, the cigarette lolling in his grimacing mouth. The store owner marched to his side, pointing at Lulu and muttering. But he barely paid her any attention as he laid eyes on Tuhudda and her family. A grin crawled across his lips. He dropped the cigarette and trod on it.
"C'mon." Tuhudda took Lulu's arm and brought her to her feet. Ada was shivering, but she too stood up. No way were they facing this man—Prescott's enforcer—on their knees.
Skinner approached till he stood before them, towering over their heads. "My, my," he grunted, "been a good long while since I saw your face 'round these parts, Tuhudda. Thought the last time would be the last. Color me surprised."
"I'm surprised as well, Sheriff, that you even remember my name," Tuhudda replied.
"You're tough to forget." He glanced right. "This your dear daughter, innit? Ada. And this little one," he looked down his nose at Lulu. "Must be your granddaughter. Got a look of a troublemaker if I ever saw one." Skinner turned back to Tuhudda. "Bet she takes after her grandma."
Tuhudda felt Lulu stiffen and squeezed the girl's shoulder. Stay calm, she quietly told her. Don't make it worse. He mustn't delay us here.
"We're merely passing through," said Tuhudda. "We're not here for trouble."
"Is that right? I heard different." He looked down at Lulu once more, and his grin hardened.
This time, Ada found her voice. "My daughter has a condition," she said, patting Lulu's other shoulder. "She sometimes loses control of herself and her actions get misunderstood, like now. Right, Lulu?"
Lulu gave a single nod, but the frown never left her face as she looked the Sheriff in the eye.
Skinner wasn't bothered by her stare. "Well, we have institutions to help rehabilitate that sort of problem," he said, laughing. Behind him, Tuhudda could see the store owner waiting, vulture-like, for the Sheriff to haul them away. "Now, I answered a call here saying we have a case of a shoplifter. Seems a girl made off with a silver necklace. Seeing as there's no one else here that might fit her description—"
"We'll cooperate," said Ada. "Lulu?"
Lulu's gaze never wavered. "I would, but I've no idea what you're talking about."
For a moment, Tuhudda couldn't find her breath.
The Sheriff cocked his head to one side, sizing her up. "Well then," he said. "Guess I got no choice but to take you to the station and search you. All three of you."
"I don't have a silver necklace." Lulu pointed at the front porch of the store. "Do you mean that necklace?"
Skinner's eyes lingered on her a moment longer, then turned slowly to the storefront. Indeed, right there on the steps up the porch, a necklace shaped as a rabbit glinted in the sun. In their haste to get to Lulu, Tuhudda hadn't even noticed she'd dropped it.
"I'd like to help," Lulu said, "but I don't even remember what happened these past few minutes. I had no intention of stealing anything from anyone, and I don't have anything on me that can be claimed was stolen. May we go now, officer?"
Ignoring her, Skinner motioned to the porch and addressed the store owner. "Is that it?" The woman trudged over to the necklace and picked it up, scowling the whole while.
"Yes, this is it," she said. "But I swear that girl took it from my store."
"Uh-huh," muttered Skinner, turning back to gaze thoughtfully at Lulu, who met his eyes and said nothing.
Tuhudda finally found her voice. "My granddaughter is no thief, Sheriff. She has nothing on her that was stolen—"
"Sure, sure," he muttered. Then he said, "So where are you folks headed, anyhow?"
Lulu retorted, "I don't see how that's—" but Tuhudda dug her nails into her granddaughter's arm.
"We're on a road trip," Tuhudda replied. "My granddaughter hasn't seen much beyond the reservation. I thought to show her around for her birthday, maybe visit some nature parks."
"I see. Then I trust we won't be seeing you anywhere near Arcadia Bay."
"Would that be a problem, Sheriff? My family used to live there."
Skinner clucked his tongue. "Used to. Let's just say bad blood takes a long time to bleed out. The things you said of Mr. Prescott—"
"My Gramma spoke the truth!" Lulu growled.
"As I was saying, he hasn't forgotten them, and I reckon with all the trouble you caused him, he won't take kindly to seeing you at his doorstep again. And I don't want to have to intervene if more trouble occurs. Do me a solid—stay away from the Bay. I hope we have an understanding."
"We do," said Ada. "Are we free to go?"
Again that hard grin. "Free as air." With that, the Sheriff ambled back to his car.
"Come on," Tuhudda said. Ignoring the angry stare of the shop owner, she herded her family back to their van. It shouldn't be this easy, she told herself. Skinner knows we're here now, so he would have found a way to stop us. Jail us. Prescott wouldn't want us near the Incarnate. Why is Skinner making it easy?
She glanced over her shoulder as she took the passenger seat. The Sheriff hadn't left; he simply sat in his patrol car, talking to someone on his cell phone. Not his police radio—his cell. Was Prescott on the other line?
"Let's go, Ada." Her daughter nodded and started up the van. Moments later, they were on the road again, the shop and the patrol car receding in their rearview mirror. Though she fully expected him to tail them, Skinner didn't show up again even after several minutes of driving.
Tuhudda realized she had the car door handle in a death grip and forced herself to relax. "Mu'a ?"
"Yes, Gramma?"
"You were very brave back there. Foolish, but brave." She turned in her seat to look at Lulu, who was crouched against her backrest. "Are you alright?"
The girl shook her head. "It's not him I'm scared of."
"Your vision—the fire. Can it be stopped? Can the future be changed?"
Lulu's eyes were as flecks of the moon on a pool of water. "The future can always be changed, Gramma. You always tell me that. But it is the Incarnate's choice, and—"
"And she is who she is."
Lulu nodded. "It all comes down to her and She-who-does-not-burn."
There was nothing more to say, nothing more they could know at this time. As Ada pressed on the gas and kept glancing in the rearview mirror, Tuhudda laid back against her chair, shut her eyes, and tried to steady herself. They were walking the knife's edge now that Prescott knew they were coming. Even so, they had to get to Rachel Amber.
They were less than two hours from Arcadia Bay.
When Tuhudda next opened her eyes, the landscape had changed. The flat dusty road had become a highway snaking through a valley bracketed by wooded mountains—Tillamook State Forest, by the looks of it. Fir trees drifted past her window; the sky was overcast and the air smelled of summer rain.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"Five past three," Lulu replied from behind her. She was lounging on the back seat like a drowsy cat.
Not far left to go. She turned to Ada next. "You want to switch?"
Her daughter chuckled. "As long as I don't have the Sheriff on my tail, I can drive to Alaska if I have to. Let me handle it, Be'a. You rest your bones."
Tuhudda was about to complain at the slight, but thought better of it and leaned back in her seat. Best to keep herself unoccupied so she could think. Now that they were arriving at Arcadia Bay, it was best to tell Rachel and her friends that they were near.
She was about to ask to send a message when Ada said, "What's going on over there?"
Lulu sat up and Tuhudda squinted through the glass. Up ahead, a car had stopped on the road. An early warning device glinted a few feet behind it and the driver stepped out to open up the hood.
"Looks like they're in trouble," said Lulu, leaning over the driver's seat. "We should stop and check in on them."
Tuhudda thought for a moment. They were among the mountains east of Arcadia Bay. It wouldn't take long to call a mechanic if needed. "Ada, please slow down."
The car was a hulking black SUV, with a custom license plate reading JRMNGND. It looked like a bullet would bounce off it. The woman beside the car was looking down at the open hood, her hands in her pockets. She wore black from top to toe, with her business suit contrasting with her shining platinum hair. Her companion bent over the engine, fiddling with it.
Ada brought the van to a complete stop beside them and Tuhudda rolled down her window. "Looks like you got some trouble. Can we help?"
The woman turned around, giving them a wide grin. At the sight of her, Tuhudda's blood turned to ice water.
"Ah, finally!" the stranger said in her thick Scandinavian accent. "You won't believe how many people passed us by. It's so good of you to stop for us."
The woman's shades were darker than black, but her smile was as white as dry bones. Behind her, the man straightened up to gaze at them, his silver head towering over the open hood.
Without wasting a second, Tuhudda turned her face away. "GO!" she shrieked at Ada.
Her daughter floored the gas. The tires screeched as the van launched forward. There was a thump and cry behind them as Lulu fell against her seat.
Ada's face had gone deathly pale; she too had seen the strangers. They'd all seen them before, in nightmares filled with chaos and murder. The Tall Man. His fiendish sister with her Evil Eye.
Nobody spoke; all thoughts were bent on escape. The tires bit into the road beneath them, eating up the highway and hurling them closer to their destination. But to Tuhudda, Arcadia Bay might as well be the moon. Now she understood who the Sheriff had been talking to on his phone. These two were his—no, Prescott's allies.
And she had fallen neatly into their trap, right here on this open road in the woods. She caught her daughter's searching gaze. "We'll never outrun them," Ada murmured. "Not in this van."
Tuhudda didn't have to reply—it was obvious their tired old van couldn't match that monstrous SUV. There was no sign of them yet in the rearview mirror, nothing but trees along the winding road behind them, but their pursuers would catch up for sure.
Tuhudda knew at last the number of her days.
"Stop the car," she said.
Her daughter did as she was told. As soon as the van screeched to a halt, Tuhudda pressed a button on the dash and the side door slid open.
"Gramma?" Lulu watched her, her eyes round and too large for her small face. "What—?"
"Mu'a," Tuhudda said. "Run to the forest and hide."
"What? NO!"
Tuhudda flashed her a look. "Now's not the time, Lulu. You're the only one who dreamed of the fire. You live. You must warn the Incarnate."
"I'm not leaving you!" She turned to Ada. "Mama, please!"
The veins stood out on Ada's knuckles as she gripped the steering wheel. Even without looking, Tuhudda willed her not to reply or even look at her daughter. Show weakness now, and Lulu would never go.
But to her surprise, Ada turned and touched her daughter's face. "You are our best hope, my little hare," she said. "The Incarnate is in danger. She can save us, I know she can, but only if they don't catch you. We will be alright. Go to her, tell her what happened here. Go. Or they will take us all."
And to her credit, Lulu hesitated only a moment more. Then she was out the door and sprinting toward the tree line. The moment she was out of sight, Tuhudda shut the door and the van rushed forward once again.
Tuhudda needn't look at her daughter to know tears were streaming down her face. She was weeping, too.
An engine behind them roared like a hungry beast. The SUV appeared in the rearview mirror, a black streak coming from behind the trees. At the sight of it, Tuhudda reached a hand out to grasp her daughter's arm. The gas pedal was already on the floor—there was nothing else to do.
Up ahead, the highway curved around a mountain, a guardrail protecting cars from the ridge beyond. Ada released the gas to manage the turn, but behind them, the SUV roared again and lunged. Tuhudda was slammed against her seat as their pursuer crashed into their rear bumper. Their van leaped toward the guardrail and smashed through.
Then there was no more gravity—only the sky and onrushing trees, the ground coming up to meet them. Then the sudden, utter blackness.
Tuhudda found herself hurled through flashes of unreality. The afternoon her father brought her to the forests of Arcadia Bay and told her of the puhadiipi . The day she met the man she would marry, and the night she first saw their daughter's face. Ada's cries the evening she was born. Lulu's laughter when, as a toddler, she dove through a pile of autumn leaves. The night all three dreamed of the Great Fire and knew that the Incarnate had been reborn.
If only they had more time.
Tuhudda opened her eyes to a loud ringing in her ears and the web of a smashed windshield. Beyond was nothing but branches and leaves. Her seatbelt was caked in blood from her cut forehead. Her right leg was a mess—she had snapped her ankle in the crash. Every small movement was murder.
Beside her, her daughter was not much better. Ada reached out a bruised hand toward her, touching her face. Blood streamed from her nose and mouth. Tuhudda felt her heart breaking.
"Budduh," she whispered, grasping Ada's hand. "My Budduh."
"Be'a," Ada said. "Must it be?"
"My dearest, my blood. It must be."
With her remaining strength, Ada freed her from her seatbelt and pulled her, inch by agonizing inch, out of the van. Tuhudda slung her arm around her daughter's shoulder and they managed to stand. They looked up to the road above.
The two devils were standing by the shattered guardrail, gazing down at them. The woman called out, "Oh, thank goodness you're alive! I thought we overdid it back there." She hummed as they began making their way down the slope toward them, but her companion was silent as a panther.
"I'm glad about this, really," the woman said. "You obviously know who we are, which means you know who we're after. That's good. No more pretending, no more cloak and dagger. Just four people having a friendly chat."
Ada spat on the ground. "You'll get nothing from us."
"I can be very persuasive." The woman stopped a few feet above them. "Weren't there three of you? Did the little one not make it?"
"She's beyond your reach," Tuhudda croaked. "She is under the protection of the Land-Who-Speaks, which you will never defeat. Not even in your dreams."
The woman tilted back her silvery head and laughed, a sound full of vile merriment. "Your girl doesn't know who we are and what we can do." The man beside her flexed his enormous hands, and she raised her fingers to her shades. "Please hold still. I will make this quick, I promise."
"I know what you are," Tuhudda rasped. "You do not know what we are. We are shamen of the Storm Raven. We are servants of the God in the Wood. We do not fear you or your stolen power. And even if you kill us, we will look you in the eye."
Ada gripped her arm tighter; even without saying a word, she seemed so strong. Tuhudda clung to her like a vine to a tree.
"Whatever you say, mormor," the woman replied, removing her glasses. "Give me the identity of Arcadia Bay's Incarnate ."
A colossal wave of colors flooded Tuhudda's mind. Like the moon controlling the sea, its power had no end. She felt herself slipping beneath it, pulled by its undertow. She would drown here—
No, not like this.
Her will buoyed her up from the deep water. She looked into that radiant, false moon, and spoke her final words of power.
"Brittle One. Weak One. You will bear my words like a scar. Your evil eye will betray you when you need it most, and you will meet your end in fire ."
The moon above shattered, and a piercing cry filled her ears. Tuhudda blinked tears away to see the woman rolling around in the dirt, clutching at her eyes as she spilled her breath in a long scream. The man crouched beside her, holding her as she writhed.
A moment later, the woman sat up. "Kill them!" she shrieked, gazing at Tuhudda and Ada with a single wild eye.
The man got to his feet and advanced on them. Tuhudda squeezed her daughter's hand a final time. "I love you, Mama," were the last words she heard as the man's gloved hands encircled their necks.
Tuhudda raised her face to the sun as she surrendered herself to the black.
After a long time, through a series of deep breaths and halting phrases, Lulu managed to tell her story. When she was done, Rachel and Max led her into the shack to rest. Max lit some candles while Rachel sat her down on the couch.
When Rachel emerged from the shack minutes later, she found Chloe sitting on a metal drum and smoking. Without looking up, Chloe asked, "How is she?"
Rachel sighed. "She's...coping. For someone who's barely slept and has been running for two days without food or water. Max is helping her with some of the clothes we've left in the hideout."
"Are we sure that—" Chloe paused. "Are we sure her folks are dead?"
Rachel nodded. "Lulu's connected with them somehow. She felt them when they—" She cut herself off. "Anyway, I'm going to head out to get my room ready."
Chloe finally turned to face her, scowling. "What do you mean, your room?"
"At the dorm, where else?"
"The dorm? What the fuck is that, your Fortress of Solitude? You're gonna sneak her in there and keep her till when?"
"For as long as I have to!" Rachel found her voice rising despite herself. Her guilt for the two dead women still burned her inside; she wanted to lash out. "Until this whole thing blows over! Get off my back—I don't hear you coming up with ideas on how to keep her safe!"
"She can stay with me at Pop's!" Chloe shouted back. "He won't talk and we can keep her hidden until—"
"Pop's Garage! That's the best you got? What, you're going to trust people won't see her or talk about her being there?"
Chloe opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut it to look over Rachel's shoulder. Rachel turned and found herself face-to-face with Max.
She eyed them for a moment, then she said, "Could you two follow me, please?" before walking deeper into the junkyard. Scowling, Chloe hopped off the drum and trudged after her. After a beat, Rachel followed them.
Max led them to a corner of the junkyard, bound by grass on one side and abandoned cars on the other. She stopped at a random spot and looked down at the mud. Rachel and Chloe halted a few steps behind, giving each other a wide berth.
Without turning around, Max said, "This is the place."
"What place?" Chloe asked. "What are you talking about?"
"This is where we found Rachel, Chloe."
Rachel's skin went cold. All the blood drained down from her face to her feet. She stared at Max's back as the other girl stayed very still, her head hung low.
"When we saw her picture in the Dark Room, you drove us here straight away. You ran to this spot and started clawing at the dirt with your hands. I helped you. And what we dug up was a body bag. The smell. I'll never forget that smell for the rest of my life."
Under the moonlight, Chloe had turned pale, her eyes wide and staring, looking lost and very, very young.
"I've never heard you cry like that before. I've never heard you sound so broken. I hugged you like my arms were the only thing holding you together. You were saying, 'what kind of world does this?' And I couldn't answer. The only thing I could say was how sorry I was. I still have nightmares where I wake myself up saying it over and over."
Rachel said, "Max, please stop." But Max didn't seem to hear.
"You have to understand, Rachel. Chloe looked for you for six months. She was going to shoot Nathan dead. She was willing to kill for you. But all that ended up happening was that Jefferson tricked us and shot her in the head, right here where you lay. Then he took me and tortured me in his Dark Room. And through it all, all I could think of was how weak and stupid I was for losing my best friend, over and over again."
Chloe reached for Max's hand, but she stepped away and kept talking.
"When I came back here, I swore to myself it would be the last time I'd hear Chloe cry like that. That Rachel would never wind up in the ground. If I had to make a world where I kept you both alive and well, I'd do it. I swore. I'd do. Anything."
Max's hands—small, delicate hands that Rachel always thought belonged to an artist—tightened like she was clutching knives.
"But Tuhudda and Ada are already gone. And their killers—they're more dangerous than Jefferson will ever be. And the whole town's in danger again. By changing the past, I made things even worse!
"I did not come all this way, six months back in time, to see it happen again. I'm not going to lose either of you. I have one chance, just one chance to get us out of this alive. But I don't have my powers to help me do that. All I have is you. So please..."
Finally, Max turned to look at them, her face scrunched up and wet with tears.
"Just this once, I need you both to WORK TOGETHER!"
With that, Max stalked back to the hideout, passing through the space between them.
For a long moment, neither said anything. Rachel's mind still whirled at Max's words. In all that happened, she had forgotten how much Max had suffered to be here with them.
And Chloe—
Rachel turned to face her. "I wasn't thinking," she confessed. "I thought I could keep Lulu safe by having her near me, but I can't hide her in the Prescott dorms."
"Pop's is a no-go, either," Chloe muttered. "She can't be seen in public, which means—"
"The only safe place is here in the junkyard," Rachel concluded.
The other girl nodded. "We'll just have to keep her supplied. But she can hide out here for as long as she needs to."
"Until we take care of Prescott and his thugs."
"Hold up," Chloe said. "Is it possible that those two agents know who you are?"
"I don't know," Rachel responded, thinking it over. "I don't think Tuhudda and Ada would've talked, and they haven't attacked me yet." She frowned. "But their powers worry me. If it comes down to a fight—"
"You've been training. You're stronger than they are. If they fuck with the bull, they get the horns."
"I've never fought anyone with my powers."
"Fine. I'm gonna get step-douche's gun." Chloe nodded to herself. "Then they'll see who the real threat is."
It's almost like old times, Rachel wistfully thought as they trudged back to the shack. Chloe and Rachel, Arcadia's hellraisers, as Joyce would say.
At the door, they were surprised to find Lulu, dressed in clean clothes and with Max at her side. "We need to talk," Lulu said.
"Don't you think you should rest first?" Max asked her. "We could get you something to eat and—"
"Later," the girl replied, not taking her eyes off Rachel and Chloe. "This can't wait. Come inside and I'll tell you everything I know about this Land and its Incarnate."