"God damn it—God fucking damn it," was all Rachel could manage. Images of Chloe being dragged out of her hiding place, beaten, even shot—and all of it her fault—made her raging pulse threaten to overwhelm rational thought.
But no matter how much she worried, Max had it worse. A small, cold hand reached out and twined with her own. Max's wide eyes looked stark white in the shadows. "What do we do?" she whispered, and Rachel hated hearing that little tremor in her voice.
I don't know, she nearly blurted out, and knew it was the wrong thing to say. Max looked petrified—the poor girl's hand was vibrating in her grasp. She's looking to me for leadership. I planned this heist—I have to know what to do!
Rachel forced herself to think. Chloe hadn't uttered a word since the guard entered the office nor did they hear any shouting or scuffling. Good. Chloe managed to stay out of sight—for now, at least.
Drawing a deep breath, Rachel replied, "Let's wait. Chloe will—she's better at this and will tell us what she needs us to do. We have to trust her."
Max watched her a moment before giving a single nod. It's her instinct to trust Chloe. It was something she and Max had in common and now clung to for hope.
As one, they turned their gazes back to the office.
Chloe held still and kept her breathing shallow as she crouched deep beneath her desk. The tips of David's polished black boots peeked out the side of the table; if she wanted to, she could punch him in the shin.
The voice from the doorway spoke again, incredulous and slightly irritated. "I was here just a few minutes ago, Madsen. You sure you didn't imagine it?"
"I didn't think so at the time, sir," David replied. "But maybe I was wrong. There's no one in here."
A heavy pause followed where Chloe thought she could hear David swallowing. Then the foreman replied, "Well, you've had your look. I'd like to rest now if you don't mind."
"Yes, sir. Of course."
David strode past Chloe and headed for the door. Her breath started to loosen in her chest before she realized that the foreman's footsteps were heading towards the cot. If he was sleeping in the office, she could be stuck under the desk for fuck knows how long!
The footsteps paused in the middle of the room. "Hold up, Madsen."
David stopped by the exit. "Yes?"
The foreman rounded the desk and stood in front of her. He wore brown safety boots—she could see her reflection in the shiny steel toes. "Did you open this window when you came in?" he asked.
An invisible hand had clamped around Chloe's neck, cutting off her air. Her quiet heartbeat had turned into a wild throbbing against her ears.
"No, sir, I didn't," came David's reply.
"Well, I didn't open it either. I always keep it locked."
There was a slight pause. "I must've spooked him when he saw me heading for the office. He must've left through the window!"
"Right." The foreman's voice hardened. "Wake the laborers and inspect their area. Tell them we're on high alert. I'll order the other guards to do a sweep."
"Yes sir!"
Footsteps fading from the doorway. Then the foreman strode to the cabinet and yanked open a steel drawer. Chloe could distinctly hear some clicking noises and realized they were the sounds of bullets sliding into a revolver. The drawer slammed shut, then the footsteps began approaching again.
Chloe pulled her knees as close as she could to her own body. She had forgotten how to breathe. The man's boots came to a stop right in front of her desk—
BAM!
Chloe found her palms had suddenly fused with her mouth. But it was only the sound of the foreman slamming the window shut and locking it. Then he made for the exit, his footsteps fading away.
Every muscle of Chloe's body screamed for her to stay right where she was, but she forced herself to peek over the desk. The room was empty.
I gotta get out of here. As her pulse began to slow a bit, Rachel's voice whispered tentatively through her earpiece. "Chloe?"
"Rachel, Max, I'm still here. "
Max quickly jumped in. "Oh, Chloe! Thank God you're okay! I was sure they'd—"
"Dudes, let's not celebrate yet. The guards are on alert and unless I get out of here, I'm toast."
"We know," Rachel replied. "We're watching them right now. They're gathered outside their station. Foreman's barking orders."
"No one near the office?"
"No. Chloe, now's your chance—move!"
Chloe crept towards the window. All she needed to do was retrace her steps, stick to the shadows, and they would be out of here before those rent-a-cops could find their own asses with their flashlights.
She turned to make one last survey of the place, then her eyes fell on the laptop.
Something clicked in Chloe's mind. She had a picture of the blueprint, sure, but what would that tell them? Nothing much—certainly not why Prescott wanted this building put up in the middle of nowhere. But if they could crack that laptop, it would mean access to files. Emails. Names. Places. Phone numbers. Something they could connect to Jefferson. And Prescott. The whole cabal in a single go.
And after this little excursion, Prescott was going to get wise and beef up his security. This was the only chance they were going to get.
Chloe whispered, "I'm taking the laptop."
"What?!" Max responded. "Chloe, that's crazy!"
"Yeah, well, take crazy away from me and what else have I got? It's our chance to hit back at these motherfuckers. Let's go all out."
A pause on the other end, then Rachel said, "Go for it."
Chloe strode to the table, shut the computer's lid, and ripped off its power cord. "I got it! Which way is clear?"
She could hear the strain in Rachel's voice. "The guards are spreading out—they've got flashlights and are searching along the fence!"
"No one's heading back to the office?"
"No, not yet."
"Great. Heading back the way I came." Chloe shoved the laptop into her backpack, slipped towards the window, and pushed it open. Peeking out, she saw the lights had all come on in the laborers' quarters, and her ears caught David's familiar barking voice, telling everyone to stay indoors while he did an inspection.
Then a flashlight beam cut through the darkness a few feet behind the quarters. One of the guards was searching the perimeter fence. Fuck, gotta hurry!
Chloe hoisted herself up, letting her feet slip first through the opening until she had her stomach against the sill. Her backpack caught on something—the latch, probably. Grunting, she twisted one way and the other, trying to free herself, to no avail.
Sweat appeared on her brow despite the chill air. Seconds ticked by as she pushed against the window sill, trying to squeeze through. Where was the guard? Was he closer now? Had he spotted her yet?
To her relief, she managed to pull free of her backpack and slip out, feet landing on the grass. A glance to her right told her the guard was still a ways off but would soon be turning the corner. If she hurried, she could get away before he made it here.
She reached up and untangled her backpack—just as the door of the office opened.
"Hey," the foreman's voice called out, "who's there!?"
Shit, shit, shit! Chloe pulled the backpack to her chest and dashed toward the other end of the building. The adrenaline pumping through her brain caused her vision to tunnel—the shadows around her had grown darker and the lights brighter. The flesh tingled on her face and hands. The only solid thing was the corner of the building she was stumbling towards.
Footsteps thundering from the window. The foreman was shouting for the guards, ordering them to converge at the office. She was only seconds ahead of them. Chloe sprinted with all her might, almost stumbling as she turned the corner. The bolthole was still some 60 feet away and it might as well have been a mile. She doubted she could get there before someone—most likely David—managed to shoot her in the back.
She needed to hide, buy herself a few seconds. She paused behind the building and looked wildly around. Then she spotted the hole that had been excavated at the center of the site.
Chloe sprinted to the edge of the hole and, without hesitating, leaped inside. She fell some 4 feet before the side of her leg struck a rebar that had been driven into the ground tore into her jeans—she clamped a hand against her mouth to keep from crying out. Hunkering down among the shadows, she rasped into her phone, "Guys, help! You gotta distract them!"
Max watched as Chloe threw herself into the enormous hole at the center of the construction, right as four guards turned the corner of the office building, flashlight beams pointing every which way. "Spread out!" one of them ordered, raising his gun. If one of them decided to check out the pit, that would be the end of Chloe.
You gotta distract them.
"Rachel—?" Max turned to her side and was surprised to see the blonde already on her feet, ripping her leather gloves off before raising an outstretched hand towards the office building. In her other hand, she held Chloe's Zippo lighter. While this seemed threatening enough, what rang alarms in Max's brain was the look of ferocious resolve on that angelic face.
"Rachel, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" Rachel growled. "I'm torching their office. That would get their fucking attention."
A needle of panic pierced Max's heart. Images raced through her head of the fire tornado Rachel had conjured up by the sea, followed by the vision of an uncontrolled blaze consuming the forest then turning on Arcadia Bay.
Rachel thumbed the lighter open. The fingernails on her outstretched hand began to glow orange.
"Rachel, no!" Stumbling to her feet, Max grabbed her hand and pulled it down.
"Max!" Rachel glared at her. "They're almost on top of her! I'm not letting them touch—"
"We won't let them, but we both know you can't control fire yet!" Max didn't shrink from her gaze, faced Rachel with their eyes level. "We have to do better, Rachel. Please?"
They held each other's gaze. For a tense moment, Max thought she wouldn't be able to get through to her. But then Rachel's eyes softened. With a deep breath, she looked back at Chloe's hiding place. "What've you got in mind?"
Max's own breath came out in a whoosh. "We need to keep Chloe out of sight, keep them from seeing her long enough for her to reach us."
"Any ideas on how we blind four armed men with flashlights?"
"I—" Max's mind raced. Rachel hadn't mastered fire yet, but she was an expert with air and water. Maybe a strong wind to blow the guards away? No, Chloe would have to fight through that same obstacle. And water? There isn't even a source of water nearby. Unless...
Oh.
Max's hands sought Rachel's. "I think I got it!"
"Don't keep me in suspense."
"Think about water—all the water in the air." Max shut her eyes and did exactly that. This could work. They would make it work.
"Think about making the air as cold as you can."
Chloe lay flat on the bottom of the pit with her ear against the ground, like a tracker listening for footsteps. The guards muttered amongst themselves somewhere above her, sounding way too close. Where was her backup? She was too afraid to ask in case she gave herself away.
Rachel's voice cut through the silence. "Chloe, can you hear me?"
Chloe risked a whispered, "Yeah."
"Raise your head from the hole a little so you can see us. Don't worry, they won't see you just yet."
Though the very thought of lifting herself out of the hole was terrifying, Chloe forced her muscles to work. She pushed herself up to a crouch and peered over the edge. Rachel was right, thankfully: two of the guards were investigating behind the plastic barrels, while the others were moving towards the metal fence. They wouldn't spot her from there, but if she stood up and ran towards their escape route, they'd see her for sure.
"Look at us, Chloe." Max, this time. "No matter what happens, keep us in sight."
Chloe did so, training her gaze to the two silhouettes some 30 feet away on the other side of the fence. "Guys, whatever it is you're planning better be damn good. No pressure."
Suddenly, it got cold. Like an icy December breeze coming down the mountains. The skin on her hands and face tightened with goosebumps and mist began to spill from her open mouth. "What the hell?" she muttered.
The world around her was dissolving into a white haze. A fog, she realized. Stunned, she looked over to where Rachel stood with her hand outstretched. And Chloe understood. She's covering the place with a fog for me to hide in.
"Jesus Christ, where'd this come from?" a nearby guard swore. He shone his flashlight around but the beam did nothing but illuminate a sea of white cloud. "What the hell is this?"
"I can't see shit!" another cried, stumbling against a barrel.
Chloe was so busy wondering at the descending fog that she nearly forgot her instructions. She trained her eyes back to the fence just as the haze swallowed up Max and Rachel. Now Chloe understood why she had to keep looking—so she could orient herself when she made a break for it.
"Do it, Chloe," Rachel said in her ear. "Run!"
Chloe pulled herself up onto the edge of the hole and sprinted towards with all her might in what she hoped was the right direction. A beam of light crossed her path but she ignored it and kept going. The fog was so thick she couldn't see more than a couple of feet in front of her; even the floodlights were just dim hazy moons floating overhead. Her breath trailed puffs of white as she ran.
She put one hand in front of her to feel her way through—then her palm collided with the steel fence, making a rattling noise that echoed in her ribs. "Max! Rachel!"
"Over here!" Max said. She was off by just a few feet to the right. Chloe sidestepped until her fingers touched a cold hand gripping the mesh. Chloe pressed herself close to the fence, and yes, relief washed over her as she came within inches of Max's face. Chloe wanted to kiss that fragile smile.
"Let me crawl through," Chloe said.
"No time," Rachel replied, appearing next to Max. "Take a step back, Chloe!"
Chloe had barely a second to do as she was told before a blast of air came rushing up her legs. She gasped, her skin freezing as a vortex lifted her up and over the fence before gently lowering her onto the ground. Then Rachel caught her in an embrace and she was instantly warm again.
"Got you!" Rachel couldn't suppress the giggle. "Oh my God, Chloe, you did it! You really did it!"
"Yeah, you know it," Chloe gasped before Rachel's lips caught hers in a brief, burning kiss. Keeping a hand on Chloe's arm, she reached out and grabbed Max's hand to pull her close. And before either of them could utter a word, another whirlwind ripped through the underbrush, carving a path for them to escape.
"Come on!" Rachel cried, breaking into a run. Chloe pulled Max along as she chased after her, scattering leaves and leaping over roots and fallen branches.
"You know what, Chloe?" Rachel called over her shoulder as she ran, doe-like, a blonde flash beneath the white moon.
"What?" Chloe panted.
"I love, love, love being a pirate!"
Her laughter rippled through the night air, and before long, unable to help themselves, Chloe and Max joined in.
Chloe knocked back her second beer, enjoying the buzz that was now inching its way into her head. Letting herself sink into the sofa, she turned her bleary eyes at the party around her.
It was well past one in the morning but Hayden's afterparty was still in full swing. Club music was blasting on the speakers. Hayden, drunk as a skunk, had challenged the equally high Zack and Warren to a game of Cookie Face: all three of them were lying on the floor, trying to inch Oreos from their foreheads to their mouths. Meanwhile, Rachel and Juliet had managed to rope a somehow still sober Kate to dance—they were over by the patio doors, teaching her how to do the shuffle. Only Brooke was out of it, lying on the opposite couch, asleep with her glasses askew and drool on her chin. Chloe had already snapped a photo. Brooke likely wouldn't remember, but before she passed out, Rachel had made her promise to hack their stolen laptop's password. No more fence-sitting for her.
It was like any Saturday night. Just a group of stupid kids being stupid. Hard to believe that an hour ago, they were robbing the property of the richest man in town and had gotten clean away. And by morning, all their friends will be swearing up and down the school that they'd been partying at Hayden's all night long.
The cushion dipped as someone sat beside her, and Chloe grinned without glancing up. "Heya, Max. Staying out of trouble?"
"That's my line." Max returned her smile. "And you should know. You've been with me all night."
"And we've been absolute girl scouts, yeah?" Chloe raised her palm to accept Max's high five. "Hey, Rachel told me what you did for her. Thanks for stopping her from burning the place down. It would've been nice to get rid of David, but I don't think my mom would've been too happy to hear he got burned alive on his first day on the job."
Max glanced at Rachel, who was busy videoing Kate dancing. "I thought she might be a little upset with me because I interfered."
"No, she said you were right. People could've been hurt—including me. We owe you again, Super Max. Thanks."
"Anytime, Captain." Max settled in close to her and scratched the tip of her nose. Chloe recognized that little tell—Max scratched her nose whenever she wanted to broach a potentially difficult topic.
"So, how're you feeling?" Max ventured.
"Never better." Chloe reached for another bottle. "Why'd you ask?"
"It's just that you're pretty quiet. You know, for you. Like you're thinking about something." She paused. "Is it about David?"
"What, step-douche?" Chloe scoffed, "Don't much care he was there. Far as I'm concerned, that asshole fits right in with the Prescotts. I hope he goes down hard once we deal with those shitbirds."
"He's not a bad person, you know. He could even help us. Remember, he—"
"Saved you in the Dark Room. Yeah, yeah, I remember. Don't mean he's inclined to be helpful now, or be any less of a dickwad. No, him being there doesn't bug me."
"Alright, if not him, then...?"
Chloe paused her wrangling of the bottle opener and sighed. "Here," she said, handing Max the bottle. "Hold this for me." She did so, and Chloe snapped the cap off with the opener. "You're as nosy as ever, Max—you know that?"
"So I've been told loads of times." Max grinned, handing her the beer. She scratched her cheek with her pinkie and said, "Chloe, what's on your mind?"
Chloe raised her eyes to watch Rachel spin and sway to the music. The blonde caught her look and flashed a dazzling smile. Rachel had been giving her those heated glances ever since they got back, and Chloe was willing to bet all the money in her pocket that they'd be paying one of the upstairs rooms a visit before the party was done.
If she was ever going to talk with Max, it had to be now.
Chloe examined the bottle in her hands, like it was a crystal ball that could tell her the future. "You're thinking about that time I freaked out in the forest, huh?"
Max nodded.
"It looked like I was pointing my flashlight at nothing."
"Yeah. Chloe, what happened? You said you saw no one. What did you mean by that?"
Chloe sucked in a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut. "I saw my dad."
Max held herself absolutely still. "You saw William?"
"Well, I didn't mean step-douche." Chloe took a long swig from her beer and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "My dad was pointing the way to the construction camp. That's why I didn't bother with the markers anymore."
"Oh, I..." Max faltered, looking around the room as if she had no idea how they got there. "Do you think it means something?"
"Don't worry, Max." Chloe flashed a lopsided smile. "I was hallucinating. Probably from the stress. Maybe bad weed."
"Well, um, okay, it's just that—I mean, it turned out that he was pointing the right way, right? So it could have been your subconscious, or something."
When Chloe didn't answer, Max asked, "You okay?"
"I mean, yeah, yeah, I'm good. It's just that..."
As she hesitated, Max edged closer till their thighs touched. "What is it?"
"My dad, he wasn't—he didn't look right."
At Max's confused look, Chloe sucked in a deep breath and faced the ceiling. "Half his face and body had been burned off. I could see his skull and the bones of his fingers."
The silence that came after stretched on and on. Finally, Chloe took another sip of beer and grinned. "What a fucking night, huh?"
"Yeah." Max reached for her hand, and Chloe gave it a grateful squeeze. "Chloe, is this the only time this happened?"
"I...huh." Chloe turned to meet Max's wide, blue eyes. "I think I dreamed of him a couple times before. The day we went camping, and the night you came back to town. Then way before that..."
Chloe talked. Max listened. This time, Max didn't ask what her visions could mean. She knew Chloe didn't know. Honestly, Chloe wasn't sure she wanted to know. It just felt good to finally talk about it.
But as the party wore on, even as Chloe drank and danced and rocked out to the music, as Rachel eventually took her hand and led her somewhere they could get lost for a while, one thing her father had said would come and find her.
People are weakest when they think they're about to win.