Work Text
San Francisco
October 2025
22:00
The chill of the cold metal rigging seeps through my black ballistic nylon jacket like it isn't even there. I am laying on the far end of a cantilever crane two hundred meters in the air with nothing to save me if the wind decides to flip my body around like a leaf. From my vantage point, the city of San Francisco fills my view with sparkling towers of glass and light. The evening sun set more than an hour ago, and from this elevation I can just barely see the faintest orange glow on the horizon. The dome of darkness above is a deep blue hue as the unfashionable arm of the Milky Way arches overhead.Holy shit sticks, that's almost poetic! Heh 'dome of darkness...' Gonna have to remember that one. I'm sure Max will get a kick out of the fact that I'm mellowing out, considering the problems I've had with self-confidence. It has been an entire month since my last breakdown, and this little mission we were doing is gonna prove to myself that I'm back in the game. Still, the downtime and therapy opened my mind; I've done a lot of reading, and some of the ones on mental health suggested exercises in creative writing. Initially, I discounted the activity as not something fit for my badass, super-hot, tough-gal reputation, but the therapist I was seeing supported the idea, as did Max, much to my chagrin. At first, I bitched and grumbled a lot about it, but as I got out my ideas and organized them, I realized I started to enjoy it. It's no fucking masterpiece, and it was like shitting bricks to get up the nerve to press the 'Post' button on the fan site, but Max loved the little story, making the whole thing worthwhile. I didn't tell her that the main character was based on her... the little goop figured it out all on her own. While reading it, he got that adorable faraway look as the freckles on her face grow darker, blushing her cheeks. Max had calmly closed the lid of her laptop, and her pair of perfect blue windows to her soul sought me out, letting me in. We fell in love once more, like we do every moment we're together.I sigh at the memory. "Goddamn, bitch. That one was awesome too!" Kinda getting me excited, to be honest. I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut. 'What the fuck is wrong with you? Come on, Chloe, concentrate!' This is not the time to be distracted."Did you say something, Chlo? I didn't get all that. There's a little interference from the elevator shaft."Groaning, I take my eyes away from the scope I'm using and place my forehead on the narrow platform in front of me. Fuck... "Uhm... er... n.. nothing, Babe. Just... ah, talking to myself." It is really difficult focusing on being my badass field operative self when my mind keeps going back to my wife."Uh huh..." The woman of my dreams doesn't sound convinced, so I try to change the subject."How you doing, Maxaroo?" I look at my watch to check how she's progressing versus the next waypoint. "You're a little bit ahead of schedule.""Nice save, Love. And if you really want to know, climbing up an elevator shaft is not as easy as it looks. I'm... uhhh... just passing the fifty-fifth floor.""Awesomesauce, Spider-Max!" I start singing the old spider-man music, customized for my super-powered First Mate. Hell… why not? We are the dorknamic duo1, right? We should have a theme song of our own.🎵 Spider-Max, Spider-Max... friendly neighborhood Spider-Max... 🎵When I can't remember the remaining words, I continue by humming…🎵 Hmmm hm hm. Hmmm hm hm. Dah da dah da dah dah dah... here comes the SPIDER-MAAAAAAXX!!!! Yeah!!! 🎵"Whoa!!! Fuck!!" I hear the sound of shuffling, quick, uneven breaths, and finally a clanking noise that repeats, getting quieter every second. Shit! I'd been on an open mic while I was singing."M... M... Max! Are you okay?" I pan the scope around the area pointlessly; the optics aren't set up for heat signatures. God damn mother fuck!After hearing about thirty seconds of fast breathing over the comm, thankfully, my First Mate answers. "I'm fine, Chloe. Just... oh... hanging out on the fifty-fourth floor... sorta. Lost the decoder, so I'll have to do it the hard way."The breathless way she pronounced each word makes me think she was dangling over an abyss by her fucking fingertips."What the fuck happened, Babe?""You happened, that's what. Every beautiful, loving, pirate-punk, and badass part of you is entirely too distracting, especially when you sing. So, I guess I wasn't concentrating enough on not falling fifty-some-odd floors to my fucking death. Oh no, instead my mind goes all goopy when you act like a dog-damned nerd, and things like not missing my next handhold kinda become secondary... On the other hand, I guess it's a good test of the magnetic crampon; it seems to hold my weight at least.""Ohhh... uh... sorry?""Chlo, it's alright. I haven't been out in the field with you in almost six months. I'm bound to be a little rusty."I feel my self-confidence take a nosedive. Fuck! If she got hurt because of me... "Maxie, are you sure you want to do this? We can always back out and get Sloane to do it.""Nope, this is the only window of opportunity for the next half-year; Sakamoto and the access codes will be untouchable after tomorrow, and, you know Sloane is at the twin's birthday bash until next week."Sloane is on a beach somewhere partying it up, and while she's going to meet us later, on our way home, a huge part of me wants to grab Max and go gate crashing. "I could go in and get the shit, and you could be out here watching my super-sexy self instead. Then we can blow this place and join her."Over the comm, I hear the love of my life giggle. "Never stop being you, Chlobear. Nah, you know why I have to do this; it's the only way to make sure we can't be tracked. I'm the one that can go in, get the goods, get out, and never have been there in the first place. Time-lord, remember? Should keep them off our tails."Yeah, 'them,' I understand, logically at least, perfectly well why we need Max's ability now, more than ever. It is nice seeing her back doing field work, my very own partner-in-crime, but that doesn't mean I’m not going to worry. "God damn, I love it when you talk like that… makes me wanna… er… uhh... just be careful, yeah?""I will, that is if a certain gorgeous woman would stop breaking my concentration. You do know I'm hanging by my fingertips and experimental climbing gear, right? It's a loooooong way down...""Maaaaxx, stop messing around, you're scaring me!""Heh heh heh! A big, tough, badass like you is scared?" She was teasing, but right then, all I can imagine is what will happen if I lose her. "Not scared, Max ... and you forgot hot-as-fuck, too.""Sure you’re not, oh mighty Captain Bluebeard. Now, If you will please look over to the rooftop for just a second."I pull away from the spotting scope and glance at the top of the building, which is two less stories than the crane I was laying on. In the distance is a shadow of a person dressed in black and walking along its edge. Looking back through the optics, I zoom in until my vision fills with my wife's freckles and blue eyes. I can see she's watching in my direction because just as I get her clearly into focus, she blows me a kiss. Fuck, what I will do for that woman! My heart beats like a drum, and fireworks that only I can see fill the skies around me like it's Fourth of July. Yup, I am living the American dream: life, liberty, and the pursuit of Max. It doesn't get much better than this."God damn, Babe, the things you do to me. Come oooon, hurry up so we can get outta here."Her dorky smile fills the digitally enhanced viewer, shaking her head and answering my plea. "Not until we're finished, but you can speed things up, though. Since I can't go through the front door, I'll need to go in from the top. You wanna shoot this deadbolt off the door, pretty please, Chlo? I'm fresh out of explosives.""Gonna rewind after?""Yup, that's the plan.""Gotcha, Ninja-Max. Stand back a sec."Switching from the spotter, which I fold up and hook to my pack, I slide the long rifle from my back, pull the bipod legs into position, and settle the stock against my shoulder. Through the eyepiece I see the distance and elevation change on its digital display. The medium range Tac50 is already sighted to two-hundred and fifty meters and there is, amazingly, no wind to adjust for. I turn the side dial one click and center the reticle just at the upper edges of my target."Fire incoming, Maxie-Pad."I place my finger onto the trigger and pull it to its first stop, concentrating on my pattern of breathing. In… out… a second time, in… out. As soon as my lungs are completely empty, I gently press the trigger the remaining distance. The compact sniper rifle bucks on my shoulder, its shock traveling down to the tips of my toes, while a hypersonic projectile covers the distance almost instantly. Looking back through the viewer I see not just the lock, but half the door blown to little bits. Given how far up I am, I have no concern about the weapon's booming report; it will go unnoticed at ground level.Have I mentioned how much I love this fucking job? You have no idea!"Bit of overkill, don't you think, Chlo? You had to bring the fifty and the explosive rounds, didn't you?""Heh, well… they're all new, yeah? Had to break them in, right?"Over the comm I hear Max laughing her ass off. "And what better way than to do some breaking and entering, right?""You know me so well." God, I love this girl!Her laughter picks up again. "That I do, Love. Inside and out. Literally." She blows me another kiss and starts slowly stepping through the wreckage, being careful of the metal door’s sharp edges. The moment I lose sight of Max, a wave of disorientation makes my head spin. Blinking once, I look through the rifle’s sights to see the door is whole again; memories of me pulling the trigger pass in front of my eyes, so I eased my finger away from the guard, setting the gun’s safety."I’m in, Chlo."I shift the angle of the rifle, surveying the penthouse’s interior and looking for threats.
In another part of the city
Cellphone notification:
>An event has been detected. Probability 97%
>Type STOP to ignore.
Fat fingers type in a simple response.
>Monitor and forward to management
>Access 988A23
Almost immediately a green message bubble appears.
>Confirmed
Back Inside the Penthouse
I quietly walk down the small flight of steps in the roof-access stairwell; behind me, the locked metal door stands closed and completely undamaged. It was a small rewind, just about ten seconds, so I have plenty of reserve should things go south. When I reach the first platform, I look downward along the center shaft, the concrete and metal path I am on spiraling along the wall’s perimeter. Conduits and ventilation ducts branch out near the base where the stairs end, which should, if the structural diagram of the building is accurate, lead to the uppermost floor’s power and cooling systems. From the building's records, which Kate easily obtained, the current owner retrofitted the top two stories into one huge residence, and all the equipment had to be brought in from above. So that's the way I'm going to get in.
'Always have a Plan B.'
Our original plan of going in through the front door, is a bust because I dropped the security bypass kit. Since I happened to be falling at the time, there is simply no way to rewind my way out of it. So, the alternate path is to go in through the ventilation system, which, as I gaze down and around the next lower platform, is right where it should be. I glide lightly down the stairs, until I arrive at the next level where a steel mesh vent covers the ducting that will lead to the heating and cooling room. From there, it is easy access to the main penthouse.Flicking out my Leatherman multi-tool, I select the flathead screwdriver and loosen the bolts that hold the cover in place."I'm at the access way, Chlo. Be done in a few seconds, then I'll start recording.""Roger that, Babe. See you on the other side."I twist the fasteners until the four corners become loose, setting each down on the floor, and carefully removing the grill. Beyond is a horizontal shaft which leads into the dark. I turn the black cap on my head around so it's bill wouldn't obstruct my view and readjust the attached light and camera unit, switching it on. A dim red glow bathes the interior of the duct, enough to see and record without ruining my eye's night vision. Kneeling down, I slide head-first into the narrow passage."Yo, Love. I'm in. Video is running, you got a good feed?" Whether Chloe was watching through her spotting scope or her gun's sights, she'd see whatever I did."Copy. Yeah, it's really clear. I guess Warren comes through again.""Yup. Gonna wait to replace the grate until I'm through, that way I only need to do one rewind, and we can see how well the automatic replay works for longer periods. You cool with that?""Go to it, Ninja-Max! I'll keep my eyes peeled while you're out of contact."We expect the metal confines of the duct to break comms, so we are relying on the recorder to continue filling the camera's buffer. Whatever happens, we will be able to review the events as necessary. I press the button on my watch to keep track of how long I'm going to be in the shaft. "Heading in." I start crawling, arm over arm, basically dragging myself, in the confined passage. Coming to a tee in the path, I roll up my sleeve to reveal the small mini-comp's screen attached to my arm. The little unit is a neat tool Vicky acquired through some of her contacts in DARPA. Officially it's known as a Mobile Operations Linked Lattice Intelligence, which is quite a mouthful. However, the onboard AI scoffed at the designation the day it was activated, accepting the simple name Molly instead. Each of us, including Katie and Sloane, carried one of these and it could be used for everything from scanning for hidden threats to posting updates on Discord. While each of the learning computers can work independently if needed, they maintain a single continuity, synchronized by a system that is connected through a classified encrypted channel that has incredible range and ability to pass through almost any obstruction. Warren says the technology is not something he can comment on due to NDA and legal reasons. Anyway, we're effectively doing field testing of the devices for the government, and Vic managed to get us a handsome grant in return. With Warren's clearance to manage it, we can report flaws and deactivate it if the issue becomes somehow life-threatening. Over the two months that we've all gotten familiar with its capabilities, its evolving personality exhibits bits of each of the team but is tending to be more and more Chloe-like; maybe my wife is interacting with it more than I know.I tap the button on the side of the device, putting it in handsfree mode. "Molly, I don't remember an intersection here. Which way?"The little AI didn't answer immediately, but instead projects a faint fan-like light that sweeps its scanning laser across the diverging intersection. <Beats the hell out of me, Mrs. Price. It's not on any of the blueprints, and the county records for the renovation permits are only two years old. It appears that someone has done some extra engineering.> The screen switches views to show my current position; the narrow duct should have proceeded forward another ten meters."What the fuck, Molly? Mrs. Price? I thought we were passed that. My name is Max."
<No, it's not, Mrs. Price. It's Maxine.>
Ugh, just like my parents. Dad eventually got a hint, but Mom always called me that... "Yes, Molly, you're right. It is. But please just call me Max. That way it doesn't sound like I'm always in trouble."
<Noted. The name Maxine is another word for trouble. I will update my data that the two words are synonymous.>
I realize we're having a gap in understanding each other, so I try to explain to the AI. While I'm sympathetic that the computer is still figuring things out, I can't believe I'm having this conversation while stuck in the middle of a ventilation shaft. I make a mental note to ask Warren about whether it's a bug."That's not what I mean. Those two words do not have the same meaning. It's an expression people use. How do I explain it? When I was young, whenever my parents called me Maxine, it's always because I'd done something I wasn't supposed to. Otherwise, Dad at least eventually started calling me Max, which is what I prefer."
<So, it is my understanding based on the literature of early childhood development contained within my database, Max, that when you behave in a way you're not supposed to, it meets the criteria for the concept of 'getting in trouble.' I fail to see the difference.>
I run my free hand through my slightly sweaty hair, then lean my forehead on its palm. I take a couple of seconds to relax as I realize I'm starting to get frustrated with the little device."Molly, do you trust me?"
<Yes, Max, of course I do.>
"Then please just use Max when referring to me, and try to understand that 'Maxine', no matter how I acted when I was growing up, it is not interchangeable with the word 'trouble.' Okay?"
<I see. I will refer to you as Max from now on, though I do have a question.>
"What is it?"<Your wife often refers to you by completely different names. In fact, she and I have had long discussions during the evenings about this very topic. For example: Maxaroo, Maximus, Super-Max, Spider-Max, Max-a-riffic, Mega-Max, Ninja-Max, Monster-Max, Maxi-Pad , Sexy-Max, Sexy-Sexy-Max, Super-Sexy-Sexy-Max, Hella-Ultra-Super-Sexy-Sexy...>And now I know why Molly's personality is trending towards being Chloe-like."Oh my Dog! Okay, I get it! Please make a note that you, me and my wonderful partner need to sit down and teach you about nicknames. Now then, we should get on with our current mission. Any ideas?"
< Max. I'm sorry, I do not know which way to turn.>
Having not gotten any additional info from the computer, I switch it off and slide my sleeve back into place, covering the device. I have to figure out which way to go. Reaching into one of the small pouches on my harness I extract a small blue lighter; Chloe said I should always have one handy, and it should do the trick. Placing it in the middle of the tee, I flick it once, producing a nice steady flame. Then, I watch the little fire dance around as the slight air currents push it to the left side.Go with the flow. "Chloe, I know you can't hear me, so this is just for the record. There's a tee in the ductwork that isn't on the plans. I'm heading down the left corridor with the air currents. Should lead me to an output."I bend and twist around the corner, then continue to crawl forward, finding another ninety-degree bend to the right. I move on, creeping through the metal tunnel another three meters when I come up to a vent on the right-hand side; it is about half the size of the one I passed through. There's no way I can fit but I get a look at the room beyond. Even though I can't see a lot, since the lights in the addition are not on, my limited perspective allows me a peek at racks and racks of servers set up in rows throughout the room.Once again revealing the tactical computer, I detach the form fitting device from its mount on my forearm and hold the flexible screen up to the crisscrossed mesh. In a hushed voice, barely a whisper, I ask the AI to record the room. "Get a scan of this, Molly."Without the device replying, the pale blue tracking laser fans out to capture the area. When it is done, I flip the unit around to see some of the data:
30 compute class 2U blade servers. 100 750-Terahertz CPU each, 384k cores.
10 K-700 solid state storage chassis. Base capacity before upgrades 200 petabytes.
The device in the center of the room houses a quantum analysis core and associated reference link. From the exterior it seems to be based on the Chinese design that hackers leaked last year. Note the feed tube from the liquid helium tank; just slightly above absolute zero.
Hmmm. Interesting. "Thanks, Molly." The screen flickers once, the computer's version of silent acknowledgment, and I place it back in its customary location, carefully bending the panel around my arm and securing it.Why would Sakamoto have a quantum computer in the first place? While we've been tracking him as the financial center of a dozen different terrorist organizations, I cannot imagine the reason he needs such a specific scientific device. It is almost exclusively used as a research tool for universities and government entities. DARPA itself has dozens of similar units, though certainly not of Chinese design, tucked away across the US. I'm beginning to think I've uncovered a whole new unexpected facet of the operation.I continue crawling onward, passing several similar openings, all venting into the same room. Finally, after another couple of minutes of dragging myself along the steel duct, I come to another righthand turn. In the dim glow of my headset, five meters further, the confined passageway stops and beams of light split through the vanes of the of the capped end, making crazy shadows along the opposite side. I wait a bit, flip off my own lights, and watch, looking for signs of movement that would interrupt the backlit patterns.Nothing changes, so I approach the grate and attach one of the slats to my harness with a bungee cord. Using a pair of plyers, I back out the sheet metal screws that are holding the cover in place and, they one-by-one fall to the floor and make little ticking sounds as they hit. Hmm, wood flooring; it can't be helped. As far as I know, the place is empty, but I hope there's no audio-based alarm sensors. I'll rewind if I must. Finally unsecured, I lower the panel quietly to the ground and wriggle myself out of the ventilation shaft, ending up doing a handstand along the wall. Tucking, I roll silently into a kneeling position then turn my head to each direction. It seems like I'm all alone.I was in the corner of two hallways, one proceeding forward, and another on my left. The place is lit by sconces on the walls, placed evenly along each corridor. Each light produces a soft white cone which reflects off the tan walls and ceiling to illuminate the entire area with a rich, warm glow that makes the dark mahogany flooring a chocolate-like color. It's very tasteful, really. Sakamoto's profile described the man as one that prefers minimalist's decor so, as expected, there isn't much else to see except an occasional closed wooden doorway. I make note of the one that I suspect leads to the server room addition, thinking I might have time to take a quick peek at the hardware up close. "I'm in, Babe. Stand by, gonna rewind."Pressing the timer button to halt the stopwatch, I see that it took me only ten minutes to crawl through. That's awesome, I'll still have a little over fifteen minutes in reserve. That should be enough time to deal with any problems I may encounter. I set the timer to countdown mode for the number of minutes I need to rewind, then repeat what I'd did at the entrance. I unravel time and events to put both vents back where they belong, screws and all. When the beeping sounds, I stop. While I have only used half of my self-regulated powers, I can feel a bit of a headache forming behind my right eye."You okay, Spider-Max? Seemed longer than..." There was a pause, and I knew Chloe was going back through the video now that we had communications again. "... Whoa, fuck! Is that a quantum computer? What the hell do terrorists need with a beast like that?""Dunno, Chlo. If I have time, I'll check it out. Might be able to get a watchdog into it. How was the re-play?""Fucking hella rocked, Babe! Just like before, it felt like I was actually in your head; The images seemed to overlay memories of my own actions perfectly. Seriously, Dude, I could see the ventilation shaft and the outside of the building all at once. How much time you got left?""A little over fifteen minutes. If I get time, I really want to take a look at that computer room, but the mission comes first.""Roger that, Maxie. Gotta love your professionalism.""That's not all you love, Love.""Heh heh. So very true, Dork. Be careful, yeah?""As always. I got this, Chloe... kinda cool to be back in the field instead of behind a desk." I start around the corner, walking the short length until it opens into a large office. Again, there isn't much to see, the sparseness described in the dossier is right on the money. A desk stands in the middle of the room, facing away from the floor to ceiling windows that wrap around three of the four walls and display a 270-degree view of the glittering cityscape backed by the Pacific Ocean, the arches of the Golden Gate Bridge, and San Francisco Bay with Oakland in the distance. It is a spectacular view, and I simply admire it for a couple of minutes. On the desk's ox blood-red leather blotter is a thin, closed laptop, a pen, and a mouse. Like me, the financial crook seems to prefer using a traditional computer pointing device instead of the trackpad on the lappy. That's cool, because it's a good place to put a bug. Otherwise, besides bookcases covering the wall to either side of the entryway, a single doorway leads to a private bathroom, and a pair of modern, very uncomfortable chairs facing the desk, the room is empty. I walk around the desk, glancing at the windows to the east and searching for the crane my backup is watching from. Upon finding the cantilever arm, I raise my both hands in front of me and point finger-guns casually in Chloe's direction. Pew! Pew!"Got eyes on ya, First Mate! Did I ever tell you how sexy you are in all black?""Yeah, Chlo', at least a dozen times. That's why it took so long to get ready, remember?" I smile, blow her a kiss, then turn back to the laptop. Mayyyyyybe I wiggle my ass a bit in my wife's general direction while I replace the mouse's battery with one that contains a bug. Heh heh. I am reaching over to flip open the computer's lid when Chloe apparently recovers enough to say something."Damnit, Max. You can't just do that to me... when we're done here, I'm gonna..." She doesn't finish her sentence, and after about thirty seconds more, I start to worry that we've lost our comms again. Turning around to face the darkness outside, I don't see anything out of the ordinary that would explain it."Chlobear? Babe?"Silence. For a moment I'd start to get a bad feeling in my gut and wonder if something is wrong. Seconds later she, thankfully, answers."Yeah, sorry, Maximus. Had to check something. Looks like we have a problem. Three black SUVs just pulled up in front of the building. I count eight dudes, all heavily armed, running in through the private entrance. There's only one place they could be going."Shit! I guess my instincts are right. We've got company, but then again, we've planned for it; time to get serious, get the job done, escape, and evade without leaving any tracks."How long do you think, Chlo'?""I can probably slow them down, but it can't be more than ten minutes."I can work with that. "Okay, Chloe, you are my eyes. The elevator opens up below me on the north side of the building. You keep them from getting me, take any and all actions you think necessary. If I get done and out within fifteen minutes from first contact, we'll be fine. I'll meet you at the diner on Third Street. Don't take any chances, though. I don't want to rewind you back into the line of fire." That is one of the logistic nightmares of my powers. I can't stop something or someone from rewinding along with everything else unless I'm literally touching them."Gotcha, Max. And Babe, if the worst should happen... I... I will find you, no matter what it takes."She's so sweet; it's why I'll rewrite the history of everything if she were to get hurt. In some cases, it really seems we're two parts to the same person, or soul, or whatever; one can't function without the other. I really believe that, and it is nice to hear she'll do the same for me in her own particular badass way."Same, Chlo'. I'll be fine. Just give me the time I need.""Already on it." I hear a tremendous gunshot in my earpiece as Chloe opens fire and starts doing what she does best, break things. "Slowed down the elevator, Max. Can't get a shot at the other motor, but the primary is down. Go go go!"I press the start button on my stopwatch and quickly focus on Sakamoto's laptop. After opening it, I am greeted with a login screen, all in Japanese. Our intel doesn't have what the password is, but that's why I've got my little computer friend with me in the first place. I pull the device from my arm, and jack it into one of the ports on the side of the laptop."Okay, Molly, do your thing."<Understood.> A couple of seconds later, I watch asterisks populate the password field, and a following rejection. <Hmmm, tricky bastard... but let's see how you like this.>This goes on for a few more seconds, until the entire lockscreen fades out and is replaced by a pixelated desktop."Uhm, Molly, what's this?"<There is a second layer of encryption. I am attempting to bypass.> On the little device's screen, a percentage complete gauge displays showing zero briefly, then ticks up once. <This might take a bit, Max. Please stand by.>"Okay, Molly. You know what we're looking for. Get in as fast as you can then signal me when it's done."The little AI doesn't answer, obviously concentrating on the problem. Damn it! That's all we need. I detach the AI from my arm, and place it on the desk, then get back on the comms."Chlobear, we're gonna need a little more time.""Little bit busy, Maximus, but I get'cha. Hang on, I'm gonna turn out their lights, but you'd better hurry your ass up!"I acknowledge her transmission with a little click of my mic. Afterwards, a huge concussion fills the downstairs rooms and travels all the way to my current position. The air is filled with static, and I can hear crackling as electricity jumps from junction to junction. I imagine the big grin on my wife's face when seeing the results of the EMP round."Okay, Babe! That should keep them out of your hair for a couple of minutes; elevator is stopped half-way to the lower level.""Awesome, Chlo! Keep me informed."Seeing as there's nothing I can do until the AI breaks in, and the coast has been temporarily cleared, I turn back to the entryway and walk down the corridor until I get to a heavy door with a deadbolt. From my memory, this should lead me to the room with the strange quantum computer. Before I start in on opening the door, I call back to Molly."Yo, Molly! How are you doing?"
<Ten percent, Max. I'm working as fast as I can! Asking me won't speed things up.>
Yup, just a little bit of Chloe in there, backtalk and everything. I shake my head, chuckling a bit, then pull a flashbang from a cargo pocket, and set it for a proximity detonation. After placing it all the way at the end of the corridor that leads to the first level of the penthouse, I get to work on the tumbler lock. It takes me about a minute to pick my way through the bolt, and the door swings open on silent hinges. The room I saw previously through the small vent spreads out in front of me, the soft whir of fans keeping the auxiliary devices cool, while a fine fog drifts along the floor from the incredibly frigid liquid helium pipeline. Insulated or not, even the slightest moisture in the air, upon touching the feeds, precipitates out as a fine frost that floats lazily down to the ground. While I don't have Molly here to get a better scan, I take out my phone, and snap pictures of every angle. When I've gone completely around the stack of hardware in the center of the room, I retrieve a small USB drive from one of my pouches. Warren said it would be able to infiltrate almost any OS; all I need to do is insert it and wait a couple of minutes until the light on the storage device turns green. I find a port and stick the USB key into it. The light starts blinking red.I look at my watch, the time I've used continues to increase. I've passed ten more minutes, so I have only a little more than five to go before I won't be able to use my powers to clear the scene, and that won't help anyone. I poke my head into the corridor, asking the AI for a status report.
<Like I said, it hella doesn't help if you keep hella asking, but I've managed to break through. I am looking for the target files now. My, my, there are sure a hella lot of them.>
Huh. I guess me and Chloe are going to have to teach Molly about the proper use of the word 'hella.' I love that the little unit is trying fit in, which makes my own memories of middle and high school and my mostly failed attempts at being accepted. I wonder what ever happened to Kristen and Fernando. I glance back at the light on the USB stick. It's still blinking red. Fuck!"Just grab them all, Molly! We're running out of time!"
<Understood. Doing a full sweep now. ETA one minute.>
I sigh; that's a little bit of good news. Moving back to where I jacked into the quantum computer, I see that the little device is glowing a steady green. Swiping at it, I pull it from its plug, and stuff it into my pocket, sealing the Velcro so it can't fall out. The whole room is suddenly brightened by an instantaneous flash and a huge concussion. For a moment, my stunned brain doesn't realize someone is speaking through my earpiece."Max! Max! Come on, Babe! You gotta get outta there. I only got one round left, The Big One, and am taking small arms fire. You got bad guys coming up the stairwell!Fuck! I run out of the room, not bothering to close the door."I'm egressing, Chloe. You'd better have that back door ready..."I stumble as I feel a grip around my ankle. Someone's got a hold of it, and I slam into the floor face first, seeing stars in my eyes as my forehead rebounds off the wood. There are raspy breathing sounds behind me as I'm pulled backwards. As if someone is wearing a full-face mask and helmet, I hear someone speak loudly."This is alpha-two-zero, I've got her! Need assistance!"Dog damn it all!!! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I wriggle, but I can't break free of the man's hold. I try to pull away, and now he's got two hands on my leg. My first thought is to my wife."Chloe! You need to get out of there right fucking now!"Then, knowing I may become a casualty, I realize Molly can still help this to be a successful mission. I won't be able to rewind while this dude is holding onto me anyway."Molly! Transmit everything to Chloe, NOW! I don't think I'm gonna make it." From the other room, I hear an acknowledgement of my last orders. The end of the hallway, behind the dude that's got me, suddenly blooms into an incredibly bright, searing white light, and the crash of explosives pounds my brain until there's nothing left but mush. Somewhere in the distance, I hear the voice of my soulmate."No fucking way! Get up, Maximus! Get up, now!"The voice and commands push me to extract myself from the comatose man, a mercenary from the looks of it, who is still holding me; his body seems to have shielded me from the concussive blast. In his one hand are a pair of handcuffs, one side attached to his own wrist, and I can only imagine my own being destined for the second. I glance at the watch on my wrist, and it shows only 30 seconds remaining. Stumbling, I make my way to the office where I left Molly, detaching the device and placing it around my arm once again. The entire room is tilting left, then right, and making my stomach churn. I have to get out of here..."Knock knock, Captain! First Mate requesting permission to get the hell out of here! Like right fucking NOW!" Unsurprisingly, the windows are still intact, even after the recent detonation. The turn in the hallway seems to have acted as a baffle. Thankfully, it's something we planned for. I quickly move away from the windows enough to get a running start then, facing the office. I haul freaking-ass, pushing as hard as I can while my mind is still dizzy from the previous shock. As I near the correct window, still driving my legs faster and faster, and covering my face with my arms. A long snapping sound precedes my impact to the solid pane, and the thick safety glass instantly shatters, held together only by its thin plastic coating. A second loud pop, and the ruined window detaches from the top of the metal frame and falls away. The det-cord did exactly as Chloe promised. I keep running, diving forward like she told me to, and not slowing down. I trust my partner with not just my life, but my eternal soul, so I pour it on, my legs pushing me forward faster and faster and...... then there is nothing to push against, and I feel the vertigo of weightlessness as I start to fall......fall......fall... Thick ropes press into my curled-up body, slowing my descent. It is just like my wife planned. The cargo net wraps around me while it swings in decreasing arcs my momentum has imparted, keeping me safe. The cantilever arm of the crane pivots away from the high-rise, and I'm carefully lowered to the ground level on the other side of the city block, well away from the commotion above. I look at my stopwatch. The lap timer has accumulated fifteen minutes and twenty seconds; just enough time. I press the stop button."On the ground, Love. See you in a few."I rewind the entire incident, making history rewrite itself so that neither of us have ever been there. We've gotten what we need while staying undetected. In the shadows, so to speak.I make my way to the small diner that both of us visited individually over the past week. It is a twenty-four-hour joint and offers waffles almost as good as The Two Whales. I am dead-tired and hungry; breakfast can't come quicker. Ordering two strong coffees, I wait until I see my perfect match walk in, a long case strapped over her shoulder. I lift my hand to signal her, but she's already spotted me, the grin on her face almost outshining the azure beacons that lock on to my own.Chloe enters like she owns the place. My wife has changed out of her tactical gear, choosing torn jeans that are tight enough to be painted on, and a black tank top that allows her to display her sleeve tattoo on one arm, and the ritual markings she's earned from her tours of duty on the other. She looks like any of the thousands of indie punk musicians just finished with a night’s gig.My partner sets her case down and slides all the way into the booth in front of me, propping up her legs along its length. "That was pretty badass, Max. See? Told you it would work."She is referring to the unconventional escape route. "I never doubted you for a second, Chlo." I look at my watch. "We've got eight hours until our morning flight. Just enough time to eat, shower, grab some sleep, and then get out of here."My blue headed goddess takes a large gulp of coffee, then looks me up and down with her eyes…"Ready when you are, Babe. Let's jet.""But… don't you want to order?""Nope, I got everything I need right here, dork, and who needs sleep after all that? Come on, I've got a much better idea of what we can do." She waggles her eyebrows, then grabs my hand and eagerly starts dragging me out of the booth.We just barely make our flight.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
October 2025
Flight 2117 SFO --> YVR
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are third in line to depart and once we reach cruising altitude, we will begin our in-cabin service. Flight time to Vancouver, British Columbia will be three hours and thirty-five minutes. Please sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight. Welcome aboard."
I settle in next to Chloe after stowing our only carry-on in the rack above. She's commandeered the window seat and, like the kid she has always been, is excitedly watching the ground crews go about their tasks. The morning light filters through her blue hair and casts her silhouette onto the bulkhead in front of us, stretching her shadow into a wild caricature of my beautiful partner.The chairs in first class are comfortable and oversized, and they allow retraction of the armrests that separate us. After pushing it up, we have a small couch to share, and I take advantage of it by scooting close to Chloe and leaning on her back."I see how it is, First Mate. Stealing all the booty for yourself, are ya?""Aye, me captain, the course is plotted, and the crew knows their jobs. Our voyage be smooth now, and this Mate needs 'er rest." Yeah, I guess I'm still a kid at heart, too. Especially when it comes to Chloe.She leans back and we adjusted ourselves so I can lay my head on her lap, looking up to see her shining smile."Really tired, Chlo. We haven't slept for almost thirty-six hours." It is just after I say the words that I can't hold back a yawn. Infectious as it is, my wife does the same. She is running her fingers through my hair which, given their warmth, sends pulses of comfortable pleasure all the way down to my toes. My eyes start getting really heavy."Know what you mean, Maxi, it's been a long day. But hey, we got the job done, and no one knows about it. Hell, the hardest part was waiting at the fucking airport, ya know?""You okay?""Yeah, I'll be fine after I get some shuteye. Feels weird, not gonna lie, to be back here.""Yeah…" I yawn again, and so does my wife. "I think we both need some sleep." I snuggle a little closer, feeling her warm arm lay along my side. Shifting slightly, Chloe leans over to kiss the top of my head."Close your eyes, Maximus. I'll see you in our dreams."
San Francisco International Airport
Years earlier
The flight was long; I don't want to go on about it too much, but... fucking politics! The Russians closed their airspace due to increasingly difficult relations with the US, forcing our flight path along the southern, less efficient route, rather than the Arctic Circle. So, while we passed eastward across the international date line, it still felt like we were in the air for more than just a day and a half. The plane had to make an unscheduled landing in the Philippines as a result, and we didn't get back into the air for eight hours. The authorities at the airport in Manila refused to deplane us, so all of us were cooped up like sardines the entire time. No food, and two of the five bathrooms became completely full. I mean, literally shit! The triple-seven is a hella big bird, but regardless, there's only so much space to go around. I couldn't even sleep much because everyone wanted to ask the badass in a uniform the same boring questions. It's like no one has ever met a soldier-girl before.Random fat dude that looks like he'll pass out from walking ten meters: "You don't look tough enough to be a marine."
Fuck off, bitch, try me.
That's what I wanted to say, but instead, I just shrugged it off. There's always at least one hater, raining all over people's accomplishments.Teen girl across the aisle: "I love your hair. I'm gonna get mine done if Mom and Dad let me."They all love my short cropped strawberry blonde with the blue flash; it is just this side of regs. The girl earned a fist bump. "Just be yourself, and don't worry if it doesn't work out the first time."Little kid: "Have you ever killed anyone?"I have no idea why, but it always disappoints everyone when I tell them the truth. In my line of work, we're all very aware of the potential for casualties, but as far as I know, I've never outright killed anyone.The only passengers that leave me alone are the old-timers, veterans who understand that I really just want to get some shut eye. They give me silent salutes or nods and then go back to reading their books.So, now, I am tired, pissed-off, and oh so hella fucking glad to be off the goddamn plane that I really can't put it into words. The only good thing is I've been able to change the last leg of my trip; Maxie is coming to get me!I drop my duffle and step to the side, letting other passengers that seem to be in a hurry pass me by. Stretching up as far as my lanky body will allow, I can easily touch my fingertips to the boarding ramp's ceiling. Twisting right, then left, I hear and feel a series of pops as my neck and upper back's vertebrae crackle, releasing the pent-up compression."Oh, hell yeah!!! So much better!" I linger a bit longer, looking through the small window onto the airport's tarmac and enjoy the feeling of the tension dissolving and muscles loosening. Nice to be back on the ground.Hefting my pack, I resume my march up the slight incline, entering the international arrivals terminal at the San Francisco port of entry. Directed by one of the flight crew, I proceed down the hallway towards customs. Even though it was uncomfortable as fuck, I am actually pretty glad for the detour, otherwise I'd have been stuck in LA, which was the original flight plan, and it would have seemingly taken my entire leave to get through security. That was my last experience at least, something I am happy not to repeat.The plain white walls and plexiglass that lead into the depths of the terminal open into a broad room, the look and size of a large warehouse, and passengers start fanning out amongst the multiple roped pathways which direct everyone to bulletproof booths manned by CBP officers. Throughout the cattle line, barrels are positioned with signs advising entrants in a dozen different languages to dispose of items that were disallowed. It is an honest effort by Homeland Security to reduce contraband and smuggled goods, no questions asked. Shit, a few folks even comply. I, on the other hand, have nothing but the uniform I am wearing, my passport, and the gear in my duffle, all of which is really owned by the DOD and the taxpayers. The orders I carry allow the items, including my carbine and sidearm, to both be kept with me on the flight as well as pass through security unhindered. Honestly, they'll have to cut off my arms before I'll let them relieve me of my weapons. That's been drilled into me since boot: once issued, my weapon never ever leaves my side while on active duty. That's just the way it is, and I have the permits and legal orders saying so. I get a shit-ton of stares when TSA goes through my things; I don't mind that, those dudes have their job to do, and I have mine. But if some snowflake has a problem with it, they can just go fuck off for all I care.I think I mentioned I'm a little grumpy, right?I step into the line that seems to be moving faster than the others and every few minutes slowly move closer to the border agent's booth. My heart beats a little faster in anticipation; my nerdy photographer and girlfriend is meeting me on the other side of security, and together we're going to drive up the coast to our small apartment in Portland. Turns out Max has a gig for a client to take coastal photos for a magazine, which means we can expense the entire trip, including her flight down here, the rental car we'll drive, and all the hotels during the week's working-vacation. Super smart planning by my awesomesauce little business-dork, and the income and publicity will continue to grow her studio. During my most recent tour, Max finished school and started using her awesome photography skills to build a small business of her very own, and now it is starting to get noticed around the country. My only regret was that I hadn't been able to get leave to attend graduation; this is the first time I've seen her in the past year. So yeah, I'm excited and want to get through this line as fast as possible.
Come ooooooon!
I sigh. The speed of the line can't be helped; rules are rules after all. I chuckle to myself, thinking about how far I've come; there'd been a time in my life when the thought of following the rules made me want to puke. It was a time when me and Rachel rebelled against everything and anyone who stood in our way; we were gonna rule the world in spite of authority. Hell, probably would have been arrested for the shit we did had her dad not been the DA.
Huh, haven't thought about her in years... Why am I suddenly thinking of Rach?
I was a different person back then, which is one of the reasons I enlisted. My messed-up life before Max returned, getting shot by that fucker, Nathan, then the horrors of finding Rachel, the Dark Room, and then watching Arcadia Bay get destroyed by The Storm, all of these pushed me to search for something to get me back on the right track. After David saved Max, from what she tells me, I completely changed my views of the man, and we started talking over the phone, long distance from Seattle to the Bay; Max and I were at her parents' house for six months, trying to deal our heavy burdens concerning what happened in Arcadia Bay. Even while David was trying to pick up the pieces and deal with the loss of Mom, his wife, to his credit, and completely blowing my mind, step-douche, uh... I mean stepdad, opened up about his own issues and why he and his best friend enlisted together. Like me, they thought they had something to prove, and that's when I started to seriously consider doing the same, the harder, the better.It took another three months, as Max was going through registering for the fall semester at University of Oregon's Portland campus, to make the decision. We drove down, and I left Max touring the college while I met David at the nearest recruiter's office. Shit, the dude there almost refused to sign off considering my record of drug use and assisting in trafficking the same; it was my scores in school before I stopped giving a shit that might have changed their mind. David may have also vouched for me. He and the old sergeant stepped into another office while I sat there filling out forms. They returned about ten minutes later, each shaking the other's hands."Miss Price. Your stepfather says you've got a chip on your shoulder the size of Texas but that he sees so much potential in you." The man said as he returned to the chair behind his desk.Honestly, there was no point in lying. I'd lost Mom and the only other woman I cared about, that is until Max had returned. And I'd set about ruining my own life because I was angry that fate had taken Dad from me when I needed him the most. I realized I needed to grow the fuck up."Yeah... He's right. It's about as good a description as I can think too. I want to make a change."The greying soldier looked at me sternly, his eyes travelling across my torn jeans, suspenders, grungy band shirt, all the way to my beanie covered blue hair. "I'm not gonna blow smoke up your ass, Miss Price. You'll probably wash-out in the first week. No, don't interrupt me; it's something you'll need to learn really damned quick anyway; you might as well hear it from me first, so keep your trap shut and listen. Hell, you'll probably go toke it up because your tiny little feelings are hurt from what I'm going to tell you."Seriously, I was starting to get pissed and a voice in the back of my head yelled at me: 'This asshole knows nothing about you! He doesn't know what he's talking about, or what you've gone through, just like everyone else! They all lie!' It took me a moment to realize he was baiting me, and I remembered what Max told me while we were driving down from Seattle; we talked about this exact situation like she could see into the future, which if I thought about it, she totally could by jumping backwards in time through photos.'Don't let anyone tell you that you can't do something, Chlo'. Whatever happens, I'll be proud of you even for trying. You fucking got this, Bluebeard!'"Maxie... is this you photo-jumping back? Did I get it wrong?""Nope, Chlo', not this time. This is one hundred percent your decision, and I'm just making my opinion clear. You are a badass in whatever you choose to do, even if it means you go into a career that gets you shot.""That's kinda fuckin' scary, Babe.""Yup, but don't worry, I got your back. Just don't let it go to your head, k? And I mean it, get me?"At least, that's how I remember the conversation. Nevertheless, Max was on my side, so I straightened my back, looked the career military man directly in his eyes, and signed my name on the bottom line. The right side of my face turned upward and it's a good thing I realized it was inappropriate otherwise, I'd have given the dude two middle fingers; the smirk would have to do."Try me."David, now in my mind a real stepdad, only smiled while the older soldier pushed away from his desk, stood, then extended his hand to me."Welcome to the Corps, recruit. Your paperwork will be processed and then you'll be given instructions on where to muster for bootcamp."As we walked out of the single-story building, David laid his hand on my shoulder, holding me up before I got back to my car."Chloe, I know you and I have never really seen eye-to-eye, but..." Was that a tear in his eye? "... But... I mean... I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm proud of you, and while I can never replace your dad, I think he'd be proud of you too. You're going to kick ass and take names. You... you got this, Chloe."When the man held out his hand, his back all stiff and straight, all the anger and hatred I'd had for him over the years just kinda faded away. Without conscious thought, I stepped past his outstretched arm and hugged him for the first time in my life. I could tell he hadn't expected it, but eventually, David's arm pressed into my back, and he let out an almost silent sigh.
Wow... that seems like ages ago!
Of course, becoming a Marine whips you into shape really damn fast; a recruit can't afford to be a depressed, self-loathing sack of shit when you've got the drill sergeants blowing rancid breath in your face all the time. Boot camp was exactly what I needed at the time, but I'd never gotten through it without the support of my First Mate. Just imagining her beautiful face gave me the motivation to push on, even when the abusive instructors continually beat me into the ground.Max always has that effect on me. Back then, I was at my worst when I thought she was gone, abandoning me. But since she's come back into my life, these past couple of years just seem to have more meaning. I want to be with her forever, seriously, you all have no idea how fucking hard it is to go back on deployment. That's why I'm going to pop the question while I'm on leave.I take another step forward as passengers start feeding through the security checkpoints. Over their heads, I can see another small group of soldiers in uniform hanging out, waiting, probably for one of their own to get through the lines. We all tend to stick together, and indeed, when a lanky private joins them, they all grab their stuff and head out the far corridor.Another step, just a couple more to go. The customs booth in front of me has a buzz-cut, aggressive looking hulk of a man who seems to be giving the short, white-haired Asian woman three people ahead a bunch of grief; it's something about quarantined agricultural produce if I hear it correctly. I roll my eyes while I shift my weight between each foot. This might take a while, so I unsling my duffel and place it in front of my feet. I'm in uniform myself, so I need to set an example, one expected of a US Marine, and be patient; it is half of the lessons during boot, and how the government always works. "Hurry up and wait" is a soldier's motto.Minutes turn into an hour as other folks shift from my stalled line to others that are still flowing. For some reason which I can't put my finger on, I stay where I am, watching when security brings in a professionally dressed woman, also of Asian heritage, who helps interpret for the older visitor. There are a lot of hand gestures and finger waggling as the rules are explained to the grandmotherly lady. I can't hear what they are saying and wouldn't understand it anyway. The only languages I speak, even though I did a tour on the North-South Korea DMZ, are Bad English, Pirate, and Max. Yeah, we kinda have a secret language all our own, not that we can explain it, but who the fuck cares, right? She's my everything like I am to her. After another thirty minutes the enforcement agent finally stamps the older lady's passport and allows the woman to move on, the interpreter taking her arm and guiding her down the corridor and out of sight. Finally, my line advances and thankfully moves the two individuals, one US citizen, the other Canadian, through the entry protocol without any delay. I step up to the booth and hand... Max my passport and return orders from the DOD. "Hey, Babe! Funny seeing you here, dork."Huh? Max? When did she start working for customs?I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, open them and the bear-sized customs agent glares at me, sorta like David used to when I'd done something incredibly stupid, meaning everything. Flashbacks to my teen years with the man formerly known as step-douche clouds my vision momentarily. Wiping my fingers across my eyes, I shake my head and quickly apologize."Sorry, sir." I must be more tired than I realize, or maybe I am just excited to see a certain person.The man's forehead wrinkles as he squints between me and the picture on my passport. He types something onto his keyboard, watches the screen and waits, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. After unfolding the orders I possess from my new CO, the impatient expression on the officer's face vanishes as quickly as it first showed up. He holds the document up to the screen, and I see he is comparing the information between the two data sources. The man turns back to me."Staff Sergeant Price?""That's me." I gesture to myself and nod."Sorry for the delay, Staff Sergeant. We'll have everything in order soon." He slides the bulletproof partition closed, and I watch on as he goes back to his keyboard, then picks up the old fashioned, red phone from its cradle and holds it between his shoulder and ear. I can only hear small bits of his conversation..."She's here...""...need to get..."That doesn't sound good. Shit, what's going on? What the fuck did I do?"... send her down." The man looks at me through the plexiglass, nods politely, then turns back to his keyboard.I stand there not knowing what the hell is happening; the dude keeps looking back at me, his wide green eyes scanning me like he is seeing his superior officer coming around the corner. Eventually, a new person shows up. She is a Navy ensign, probably just one cruise out of the academy and in full-dress whites. The young lady runs up and almost skids into attention in front of me; to my shock, she snaps a textbook salute."Sergeant Price? Ensign Moscada. Allow me to escort you, ma'am."I return the salute, though I have no idea what is going on. Looking back to the customs agent, he's slit the window back so I can hear him. That's when I notice the name on the badge clipped to his uniform which he is tapping with his finger.Petersen.Wow, what a coincidence… I've met another Petersen once. She's a reservist, a US Army Corps engineer who left grad school to help the people of Iraq; give them a better quality of life.As I recalled the events, the memories flash in front of my eyes.
Outside Ramadi, Iraq
A couple of weeks ago.
My squad and I, along with another from Delta Company, were sent along as additional security for the engineering team working on the big dam. The technical people are composed of a local militia, a couple of civilians, and some army wrenches led by a young lieutenant. Their goal is to restore power to the region; it is a task that exemplifies what our entire mission is all about, improve stability and bring back basic services to the area's people. That's what we all believe.Anyway, around 02:00 local time, the site is hit by mortars and a shit load of about fifty bearded, scruffy assholes. We are outnumbered and most of the civilians and local militia troops are panicking, running around in every direction and even directly into enemy fire; it's a fucking shooting gallery, and we're the ducks. Besides the security detachments, who were starting to get organized, only the people working on the dam's turbine control run seem to have any sort of discipline; The blonde officer with the patch of an engineer on her shoulder has them pulled back and under cover. It's happening so fucking fast; bullets are flying everywhere. While my nine-member squad, and the one from delta are starting to return covering fire, we are outnumbered enough that maneuvering is extremely risky; mostly, we're holding our positions.I glance to one side, past where the engineers are keeping their heads down, and see a group of ten dudes crouching low along the dam's waist-high wall heading towards them. Each seems to be armed with AKs and one of them is carrying a loaded RPG, though thankfully it's slung around the guy's back. The soldiers and civies the young officer is commanding haven't seen them yet, but I can. They are gonna get overrun soon. There is too little time and while air support is inbound, it'll take the flyboys ten mikes to get here: by then we'll be dead, captured, or worse. We've all heard the horror stories about what these guys do to female combatants. I am just about ready to lay down some suppression fire, make those assholes think twice before they move closer, when everything goes into slow motion.The clink of metal on concrete…The glint of a fist sized shape in the full moon's light, rolling near the hasty barricade the LT had put up…I break cover and run across the no-man's land as fast as I can along the high, concrete bridge that makes up the topmost level of the structure. "Grenade!!!"Throwing a smoke canister in the direction of the flankers, I'm close enough to leap over the metal barrels they are using for cover when the explosion throws me backwards where I land heavily, thumping my helmeted head hard on the concrete surface. While stars flash across my eyes, I quickly check myself for injury; I'm singed but otherwise unhurt. I crane my neck towards where the defenders cowered, noticing further beyond, a dark shape, a person, standing in the shadows in the middle of the path. I blink, shake my head, and look again, but the spectral figure is gone, and screams of agony fill my ears as the destruction becomes evident.The bomb killed everyone except the young lieutenant, who is laying in a growing puddle of her own blood. Shrapnel got past the dragon-skin-like ceramic plates of her scarred flak jacket. Though it undoubtedly saved her life, for now, the woman is squirming in pain; she doesn't have long."I gotcha, LT. Just stay with me. Gonna get you outta here." She starts violently coughing a froth of red, her twisting driving fragments into her lungs. After a hasty assessment, I press a thick bandage onto the worst of her wounds just below her rib cage. It's bad, and she needs better medical treatment than I can provide. "Shhhh… try not to cough. Gonna give you something for the pain… You're gonna love this." I reach into my emergency pouch and grab the one-use morphine injector, jabbing the needle into the area just above the wound. Finally, I apply an aerosol adhesive that's a new part of the kit; I'd just gotten training on it the previous week. A combination of expanding foam and superglue, the compound stabilizes her wounds so she can be moved.Her writhing stops, and her ragged breathing eases. I watch as her whole body relaxes as the pain is replaced by instant buzz.The young engineer turns her face, looking up as I crouch over her. She has amazing green eyes, and I watch as they completely dilate. Once I know the pain killers are doing their job, I figure it's time to get her out of here."Gonna move you now, lieutenant. We gotta get to my squad. Okay? This might hurt, but no way am I leaving you here to these fuckers."The woman nods as much as her muscles will allow, so I kneel and lean over until I can slide the soldier around my back in classic fireman's carry. Since most of the rounds are now coming from in front of my current position, my body will act as another layer of protection for the wounded officer."Here we go..." I get my feet under me and lift the wounded soldier onto my shoulders. I call to my squad. "Moving! I've got injured!!! Need covering fire!" My squad pours it on while I run back to join them.Needless to say, I take two rounds right in the middle of my own armor, another ruins the upper on my M4, and I lose my helmet. But I get the LT to cover until the Apaches arrive. I never did know what happened to her after evac.
San Francisco International Airport
Customs and Border Port of Entry
The scene fades out and I return to the present. In front of me, the customs agent nods once. "Thank you for saving my niece. Since her dad died, she's been like a daughter to me."To my side, the ensign clears her throat. "If you'll follow me, it's this way." The young officer gestures down the corridor and lifts my heavy duffle so I wouldn't be encumbered.I still don't quite know what was going on, but I follow the woman in white because it is part of the proper procedure burned into my mind since boot; rank or not, the girl is an officer, and I am enlisted. While I might be on leave, that doesn't mean I don't follow the rules.We walk through secured rooms, completely off the normal path that usual passengers follow. Every time we go through a locked door, a federal agent, easily spotted in their dark suits, white shirts, and black ties, swipes a cardkey through the lock, then steps aside, allowing us to pass. I've never seen a functional civilian airport from this perspective, going through rooms usually banned to common people; it is like seeing the inner workings of a clock in vivid detail, where all the small pieces come together to drive the second hand one tick further down the time stream.Finally, after about a hundred different rooms and passageways we exit into a large hanger. I'm a bit turned around by the maze I'd been led through; we have obviously left the public areas of the airport. Dozens of uniformed soldiers, enlisted and officer alike, snap to attention in perfect precision, lining a path on either side of us as we walk towards a small podium where an older woman with grey hair and a severe blue pantsuit and jacket is waiting, her hands folded in front of her. Standing next to her is the person I've been dreaming of for months. The sun shines its warmth through the high-up windows at just the right angle, surrounding my beautiful girlfriend in a halo of light. She gives me a little wave, then lifts her ever-present camera while I approach, probably capturing my dumb-ass expression of confusion. Finally, as my escort leads me to the front of the line, I realize who the older woman is, the senior senator from California. The ensign then disappears into the crowd.Now, to be clear, I fucking hate politics. They are all a bunch of two-faced shitbags, if you want my opinion. But clearly, now isn't the time to express myself. My heart starts racing, so l look to Max for help. She'd puts her camera down and slings it behind her. The radiance of her expectant smile almost blurs out the sun's rays, and beams of blue from her limitless eyes focus on me, enfolding me in their loving embrace. Her gaze calms me, like it always does."Hey, Chlo.""Uhm... hi, Love. What the fu..." I catch myself before I finish the sentence. There's dozens of people and soldiers watching me and echoes of my mother whisper in my ears. "Language, Chloe!" Right. That slip of the tongue might have cost me about a billion dollars for the swear jar. Heh heh."Er... I mean... what the heck is this all about, Maxie?""You did good, Chloe. That's what.""Indeed you did, Sergeant." The senator steps forward. "And we have someone who'd like to thank you personally. Two people actually." The woman gestures to the side where several dark suited men and women enter from another otherwise unmarked door airports are known for. Following the group is another woman, also middle aged, pushing a wheelchair occupied by a soldier.I watch as the suits fan out, seemingly never looking in the same direction for long, like they are part of the Secret Service or something...
Hang on a sec... the... I... No no no no! It can't be... the fucking President?!
I gulp, suddenly nervous as my back straightens to attention automatically. A bead of sweat runs down the side of my face as the most powerful woman on Earth humbly pushes the young army lieutenant that I now recognize. The pair stops directly in front of me. I brush a hand through my short hair as if it is somehow out of place and pull at the hem of my BDU jacket. Saluting, holding my arm rigid, I stand silently until the former reservist herself returns it."At ease, Staff Sergeant." President Karen Sinclair, from the Commonwealth of Virginia, smiles at me, not as the leader of the free world, but as a mother. "I want to express my thanks to you personally, Miss Price. Your actions to save my daughter are not only a credit to the United States Marine Corps, but an example for the entire country."I can't think of any words, and my mouth hangs open as all of this is just so way out of left field. I turn my gaze to Max, pleading with my eyes for her to help me out of this. All she does is nudge her head towards the President who has her hand out patiently waiting to shake.
Fuuuck!!!
"Y... y... she's your... daughter?" Honestly, I was on deployment during the election and while I should have, I hadn't taken the opportunity to learn much about my new CiC. All I know is that she used to be an air force pilot, retired, had a family, and had a sudden meteoric rise to the top of politics unprecedented in the country's history.The green-eyed woman lowers her hand, setting it on the recovering soldier's shoulder. I can see the resemblance now. "From my previous marriage; when her father died and her sister Charlene disappeared, Katherine was all I had left."The reservist rolls her eyes when her name is mentioned. "Mom, come on... you know I don't like you calling me that."The older stateswoman laughs. "Such disrespect to your Commander in Chief. I guess we'll just have to find some way to discipline you. How about a Purple Heart? Maybe an honorable discharge? I think I remember something about being able to make that happen.""Don't you dare, Mom. I'm going back there as soon as I can. Those people need our help.""Let's get you healthy first. If the doctors say you're fit, I won't stand in your way." She turns her attention back to me. "Now then, Staff Sergeant, as for you, is there something a grateful nation can do to extend its thanks?"I am still trying to get my mouth working correctly, and what comes out is fumbling and broken. "Uh... I... Madam President... was looking forward... you know... leave... Max... er..." I give up and glance at the little dork who is hardly able to contain her laughter.The President purses her lips in mock disapproval. "I see. Well, then I guess I'll just have to give this to someone else." She turns to the senator who had moved closer, holding an ornate box. "Gloria, will you please take that back to Congress with our regrets." She looks me directly into my eyes, giving me an expression that can, all by itself, change the course of nations; there is a reason why her election was historic. The woman has become the first independent ever elected to the highest office, a landslide of ninety percent of both the popular and electoral votes.My mouth becomes dry as her words resonate in my stunned brain. Did... did she say... Congress?"Staff Sergeant Price, do I have to make it an order? I'd really prefer not to.""I..." All I can do is stand there unmoving and face the lady as she carefully unfolds the ribbon and decidedly beautiful award. After placing the medal around my neck, she takes a step back and nods to her daughter."Thank you, Chloe." From her wheelchair, the wounded army lieutenant salutes me, as does the President and every other soldier present, no matter the rank; such is a perk of the nation's highest military award. I raise my arm in return, just as Max takes the photo that will most likely plaster newspaper front pages and even Time magazine for months to come. Only after I bring my arm back down does everyone do the same."See, Staff Sergeant, that wasn't so bad, was it? There will be an official ceremony next month, and I expect you and Miss Caulfield to show up at the White House rested and ready for the requisite handshakes and formalities.""Uh, Madam President... my leave is only for three weeks.""I think something can be arranged; consider yourself on leave until I say otherwise.""Yes ma'am.""Good. Now, unfortunately, my job is never done, so I have to leave you here. Have a nice vacation and welcome home. I'll have my staff contact you with all the details; I'm sure we're going to see a lot of each other very soon. If you'll excuse me."I stand aside, Max takes one last photo op, and then the woman, once again pushing her daughter's wheelchair, and her entourage leave. The rest of the day is all handshakes from the remaining politicians, and soldiers. I hardly get any time to even say hey to Max.Finally, after what seems like hours, everything comes to a close. Airport facilities ordered us out as they had an incoming international bird needing quarantine. Jeez, just like the President, the airport never stops either. We are ushered through the maze once again, then deposited at the lost luggage claim area. Apparently, in all the commotion, the ensign misplaced my duffle, it being put on one of those trucks that take bags to the arrivals section of the airport.The area is completely empty of passengers, and a couple of lonely bags that snake their way through the baggage conveyer. Obviously, we are in a rare moment where there are no new arrivals, or maybe it's because airspace is shutdown due to the President. That was hours ago, though. In the distance I can hear a couple of punks; there are always a few hanging around airports, looking to steal a bag and make a quick buck.We approach the gated room, bars keeping the pile of luggage safe from theft. On the countertop is a red button next to a sign saying press for service. I press it."That was fun, wasn't it Chloe?" Max looks just about as tired as I am, but the joy in her eyes just because I am home is enough to keep both of us going. "I'm glad it all worked out.""You knew?"The dork nods her head, yawns, and then leans on me. "The White House contacted me about a month ago. I was just as surprised, too, thought it was one of those spam calls. But we got all the things arranged, and your flight rerouted so I could meet you. They said something about Portland's airport not being secure enough.""You were behind that?""Nooo, President Sinclair did that with just a phone call. She's really a nice person. Met and spent some time with Kat' too.""Wow..." I can't think of anything else to say."I also got exclusive rights to the photos. See?" The dork is holding up a presidential press pass with her cute picture on it. "Magazines and the papers are all trying to one-up each other with offers. This could really jumpstart my career."She is always thinking one or two steps ahead of everyone. It's one of the thousands of things I love about her. I set my chin on the top of her head and wrap my arms tightly around, lifting her up until she starts squirming and giggling like a kid."Chloeeeee!"I set her down and press the buzzer again. We wait, poking each other, yawning, and realizing how exhausted we are. It's been a hella long day."Hey, Chlo... why don't you go splash some water on your face. I can wait here to get your bag.""Wow, you little brat. I look that bad, huh?""What? Oh! Heh heh, no... you look great. Really!"I give her a friendly shove. "How is it that I don't believe you?""Seriously, I didn't mean it like that. I just know you've spent a good portion of the last few days on a plane. No one gets through that without getting bags under their eyes.""Did you just call me an old lady?"The grin Max completely fails to hide is full of mischief. God damn, I love this girl so much; just being around her and goofing off like we are doing makes my heart want to explode. It crosses my mind that the sapphire engagement band is still in my breast pocket, that I should just ask her now..."Well... you're not old, Chloe... though..." Her whole demeanor switches from confident to insecure as she speaks. "... though I... wouldn't mind growing, you know... old with... you..." Her cheeks match her freckles and just for a moment her eyes flick away from my own, down lower to my lips. "I... if you know what I mean..." I hadn't realized how close she is, maybe it's fatigue, but we stand there, breathing in the other's sweet air, staring into each other's eyes. I fall into the depths of her being, and our souls merge and split, dancing together for what feels like eternity. Then, like a wave, our perfect place melts away, and I find myself standing beside a woman laying on a disgusting bathroom floor surrounded by a sticky mass of congealed blood. A man is holding a smoking gun with a silencer attached to its end, then, like he didn't even know I'm there, calmly unscrews the attachment, and pockets the cylindrical device, while placing the pistol into a concealed holster. I get a glimpse of a badge on his belt, then he strolls away like nothing happened. I turn back to focus on the woman on the floor. She's wearing fatigues like I am, Marine basic duty wear, but I can't tell anything else about her because the whole front of her face is missing from the forehead, down. I kneel, curiously not feeling a surge of nausea from the gore, examining the back of her head where the bullet entered. The woman was executed, and from the looks of it, she hadn't even known it was coming. Another hole in her lower abdomen bleads, too, but not nearly as much as the horrific head wound. The name patch on her jacket catches my eye.
C. Price
Me. I am dead, and yet I feel no pain, that is until panic sets in because I realize Max is still out there, maybe in extreme danger."Max!!!!"My voice makes no sound.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
San Francisco International Airport
Still years ago
"Chloe... chloe... chloe..."
Like a whisper, someone is calling my name, it echoes more in my head than in the room I am in. I mean, if I'm even in a room at all, it's really hard to tell.
"Chloe... chloe... chloe..."
There it is again. And now the maybe-a-room starts twisting, swirling into a storm, a howling maelstrom until everything is flying around so fast it's only a blur. There's a flash of light, it sweeps past me as if it's searching for something. The beam pivots around again, dazzling my... do I have eyes? I don't really know.
"Open your eyes, sweetheart. You're safe now."
So, I do have eyes. Interesting. Maybe I should do as she says... Uh, she who?
I'm immediately curious of the soft-spoken voice, I force my lids open, and I find myself staring back at my partner-in-time. I twitch my eyes left, then right. Okay, that seems to work. She's kneeling in front of a wheelchair that I'm apparently sitting in. The sliding glass double doors of a hospital I don't recognize are just behind Max.At first, the sounds out of my mouth are phlegmy and thick, making me sound like a dude that smokes ten packs a day and a dozen cigars. I cough, trying to clear my throat. There's only one word on my lips..."Maxie?""Hey, Love. Welcome back."Everything that just happened slams back into my brain, the feelings, sensations, and that it all gets undone."Whoa, holy shit-sticks! What the fuck was that?" My arms shake and I have a pounding headache, and a sharp pain in my side.Without hesitating Max wraps her arms around me the best she can and lays her head in my lap. Why is she crying? With a trembling hand, I lift her chin; she looks haggard, way more than I noticed before, uh, at the airport. And there's a deep dread in her eyes mixed with… relief?"Chlo... I know you and I talked about not using my powers." There are rivers of tears flowing down her cheeks. "But what they did to you... I couldn't help it. I can't do this without you. None of it: not life, not a job, nothing. I... I undid it all. I couldn't fix it entirely, though.""You... so... hang on... that was real?!" The throbbing in my head and side is almost overwhelming and causes a red tinge in my sight, like my eyes are bleeding. I wipe them with the back of my hospital gown's sleeve. I am sweating like I’ve run a marathon uphill both ways carrying a 150-pound pack; even a Marine gets tired after a pounding like that."What's the last thing you remember?" My freckled dork wipes at her own puffy eyes and holds onto my arm, helping me to stay upright."We were standing in baggage claim, I... think. You know, waiting to get my bag, just dorkin' around, yeah?" I looked around. "Uh... did we get it?""It's in the car, Chlo'""Oh... uh... okay. You said I should go wash up while you waited for me and then..." I gulped but my throat was dry. "Hang on. Just before that, did... did you propose to me?" I remember her saying she wanted to grow old with me; it was so fucking adorkable. "You were all bashful and shit.""Kinda, yeah... but maybe this will help." The girl fished into her own pocket and revealed the ring I'd been planning to give her. "You wanna do it? It's your ring after all.""Where... did you get that?" I felt around the top left pocket of my jacket. But of course, I'm not wearing anything but this damned gown."On the floor of the bathroom. Had it cleaned, too." "So, I... really got shot, like twice... Once in my side and then...fuuuuck! Uhm, hang on... How long did it take you to fix it?""Four months. And by the time I learned there was a second shooter, the one that gave you that, I was too spent to do anything else about it. I couldn't completely protect you, Chlo'!" She points to my bandaged side."You spent a third of a year... saving my life?"The woman who was going to be my wife snuggled into my shoulder. "I'm nothing without my other half, Chlo. I never did find out about who the other person was, except that it was a girl with a scar across her forehead. Her trail just sorta fizzled out, like she vanished into thin air; I was so damned tired by then. I kinda lost control though with the first nutcase... I... are you mad?""Fuck no, Babe! Are you kidding? That's twice now. Why does it always have to be a shitty bathroom, though?""Don't know. But let's try to not let it happen again, k? There's been a couple of changes, too, life-altering ones, not to mention that you somehow remember the original timeline; that's never happened before. But let's get out of here, first."Max walks around, undogging the wheels of my chair, and then pushes me through the doors and along the sidewalk to where a rental car is parked. When we finished extracting me from the wheelchair and into the passenger seat, of the ordinary looking green Ford Focus, Max, who hardly ever drives when she's with me, pulls out and begin our journey home. It was the middle of the night, so at least traffic isn't going to be too bad."Sooo… you said there were changes? I mean, where are we going?""Yeah… big ones… uhm where do I start." She remains silent while we pull up to the toll kiosk and pay for parking. Once in the clear, with no one around to overhear, she begins again. "Okay, firstly, I want you to know what you did to save Kathrine was one of the most brave and selfless acts I've ever seen this side of your offer to sacrifice yourself for The Bay. I almost died when you lost your helmet, but then you got back on your feet and saved her life.""Whoa! Wait… hold up a sec… what the fuck do you mean? How could you… be there?"All she did is shrug and keep her eyes squarely concentrating on the sweeping curve of the on-ramp in front of her."I had to unwind the root cause… why you got attacked. See everything for myself. So, I jumped using a photo you sent me when you got to the Middle East.""So… are you saying I didn't save her life? But… I remember…""I had to undo the conditions that led you to be awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.""No way! So, she's dead?" This isn't the Max I know; she would never have… I can't even finish the thought. I refuse with all my heart to believe it."No, Chloe. She's alive and well, as is everyone that died from your team and the other locals.I've been holding my breath and let it out in a gush, drawing her attention. She returns a weak smile and then turns back to the road. A perfectly sized hand finds its way, like magic, to its home in my own, squeezing before she drives on."I recorded the whole thing and took it to the President through our Senator; by the way, he's apparently a photo-nut like I am and knew exactly who I was. It took a month, but I was able to move up the food-chain and present my findings to her in-person. That was during my second jump, to the time before they planned on fixing the dam. I found out that if I concentrate really hard, like a photograph in my mind, I can jump to where and when I want, even if it hurts like fucking hell after wards.""Wait... you leveled up? And then you told… the government about… your powers?"My perfect soulmate shrugs. I don't think she has had the time to internalize how amazing it is that her powers have evolved. I make a note to talk to her about this in more detail after we get to wherever we're going. I let her continue."It was the only way. And that's where the biggest change is. I, meaning we, have been recruited; we’re a national secret. We’re going to start a top-secret team.""Lemme guess, the assholes didn't give you much choice, yeah?""No, it was either that or experimenting on me to learn how it works. President Sinclair shot down that idea pretty damned quickly, but the National Security Advisor, Henderson I think his name is, kept trying to change her mind." She brings my hand to her lips and kisses my knuckles, once each. "But the bright side is we get to spend a whole lot more time with each other, even after you recover; that's never bad, and that makes it easier to keep you safe."She's so damned cute when she gets protective of me. "So, who pulled the trigger?""I don't know who shot you in the side, but she and some right-wing nut-job were the ones. Somehow, at least that's what the evidence says, word got out that you were awarded the nation's highest honor… someone present in that hanger texted them. Apparently, they took extreme exception to a woman, and a lesbian at that, getting the award; something about being un-American, which is complete bullshit. The man was a federal agent with the US Marshals Service and happened to be at the airport. He was a law enforcement officer, Chlo, but his loyalties were to some supremacist movement. He and the other one saw you go into the bathroom and followed you. I didn't even hear the gun. After you didn't return, I started looking for you, but went the wrong direction. When I did find you, it was way outside the range of my rewind and… you… you…" She'd started sobbing and had to pull over to the side of the road."Hey, I'm right here, First Mate, because of you. We'll always find a way.""I can't get out of my mind what he did to you, Chloe. He just blew you away, all because of a fucking hunk of metal. I lost it… I hunted him like an animal; tracked him all the way to Texas where he went about his job at the Federal Penitentiary like nothing had ever happened. I… made sure he could never hurt anyone again. Ever."There is something in her tone of voice, beyond her distress of seeing my die that she left unsaid, and her expression remains just on the brink of breaking down."Maxie, hey, you can tell me, Babe. What is it?""It... it was the same place, Chloe. Where... where they locked up... Jefferson." Her body starts to shake, finally losing its composure.I unbuckle and lean over to fold myself protectively around my wife-to-be, keeping the demons and memories from destroying her mind, and not even worrying about pulling out the stitches in my side. As a veteran, I've gotten used to seeing horrors caused by the scum of the Earth, but my sweet, kind-hearted dork has only experienced that kind of shit once. I can imagine myself in her shoes, burning the whole world to ashes to save my one true Max. I whisper quieting shushes in her ear while she soaks my shoulder, crying out about the terrible pain she endured for four lonely months.It takes something like twenty minutes for her desperate cries and ragged breathing to calm down, and I continue to run my fingers through her sweat-soaked hair, letting her feel my contact and know she isn't alone. Eventually, a pair of bloodshot, but still perfect eyes look into my own."Hey.""Hey, Cutie. You want me to drive? You look like you could use the rest.""You... you sure? I don't want over-exert you the moment you got released from the hospital.""Yeah, I can do it. No sweat, Maximus. Just take it slow." We carefully switch sides, which is kinda fun since we don't get out of the car to do it; dressed only in a hospital gown, I don't want my ass mooning every driver on the road. I feel her hands on my naked butt. Ohhhh, they're soooo warm."Dude, grope much? Not that I mind, Babe."I feel a pinch on the left one, but it's just a little sting; with every bit of physical contact between us, we each let the other know that we're alive and well."So, yeah." She continues as if nothing just happened. "The dude is dead. The convicts at the prison took care of him. I just set the conditions for it to happen. I may have also jumped back another sixty days and took out a life insurance policy on him too. For his ex-wife and twin boys. You mad?""Nope. You didn't kill him. In my book, that choice was left up to the thugs that did. You only made it so the possibility existed; hella badass, if you ask me. That insurance was a nice touch, but you've always been a goop when it comes to shit like that, looking out for others, including my sorry ass. I’m proud of you, Super-Max." I quickly look at the road to see if it's clear. "Where are we headed, Maximus? Home?""That's another thing, Chlo'. The changes I mentioned, right? We now have a house just east of Seattle instead of an apartment in Portland. Mom and Dad insisted that I be closer during the interim when you were dead, before I fixed things. Somehow, it stuck. I think you'll like the place."Oh shit! I didn't expect that. I know it's kinda shallow and inconsiderate, but I can't help but think about my ride."Dude! Are you saying I don't have my car? Like it's all gone?"A pleasant little giggle fills the small front seat."Nah, it's fine. Your Dodge is right where you left it, relatively speaking that is. I know how much it means to you."I sigh heavily in relief. The rebuilt 70's muscle car was a gift from stepdad when I returned from my first deployment. Even my time-traveling Super-Max knows how huge of a gesture it was back then. Plus, Specter is hella badass, like me.I drive down the connector, passing through a complex interchange that places me nicely onto northbound Interstate 505, heading towards Sacramento, Redding, and Medford. It's about a twelve-hour drive, if I do it non-stop, to get to Seattle from the 'frisco area. I bet I can do it in eight, though this little runt-of-a-car has about as much getup-and-go as a hamster-driven wheel. Maybe I have to wind it up? I dunno, but I keep the gas pressed all the way to the floor for about an hour while Maxie sleeps. She zonked out like in mid-sentence."You never did answer my question. You know, about the ring…"Oh, she's awake!"Heya, cutie! Nice nap?"I can see her eyes are tired, like she just woke up, but she nods; it's like she's been thinking about the subject the entire time she was sleeping. Once again, she's holding the ring I brought from overseas, its gems sparkling in the dim lights of the car’s instrument cluster. I pull off at the next off-ramp, which happens to be a truck stop in Fairfield. I drive into the Gear Jammer parking lot, pulling up to one of the dozens of gas pumps. I turn off the ignition, then lean back in my seat, grinning at the love of my life."Well, yeah… about that. Heh, somehow it feels like we're already married, like from the first day we met. But here, lemme have that for a sec. I promise, you'll get it back real damn quick."She hands me the jewelry, and I cup it in my slightly shaking hand, kiss it, whisper a couple of words asking for Mom, Dad, and even David's blessings, and then reach out, offering it to her. I take a deep breath, then exhale slowly, then I take another...
Dude! You've practiced this!
I know, but it's actually happening!
Suck it up, bitch! This is Max we're talking about.
Yeah, it is. Fuck'n hell, Maximus, here it comes!!!
"Uh, ahem, Max, never Maxine, Caulfield, aka Long Max Silver, Dork, Hippie, Spider-Max, Super-Max, Maximus Prime, aaaaand Maxi-pad. I think in my heart I always knew this day would come, even when we were kids. Not a moment goes by that I have not thought of you, felt your love caressing my heart and soul. We grew up together and spent years apart that almost killed the both of us, but neither time, space, a town-wrecking storm, a murdering psycho, high school math, nor even the US Marine Corps has been able to keep us separated for long. You complete me in so many ways, and I would be forever adrift, lost at sea, without my First Mate. Would you do me the honor of being my wife? Together we'll bend time, take over the seven-seas, kick ass, grow old, kick more ass, and have sexy sexy times for the rest of eternity. How say you?"
Oh, my fucking God, that was hella beautiful!
The smile she has on her face lights the car’s interior brighter than a gorgeous morning's sunrise. Her eyes, a little watery, glance between the ring that lays on my outstretched palm, my lips, and then slowly tilts to search my completely open soul. Her grin slides into an evil smirk, and she winks."You practice that speech?""Maaaaybe… but I… uh… I noticed you didn't say yes.""That's because ‘yes’ doesn't even begin to cover it… come here, you…"Even though we were both dead tired, the speed at which she grabs the front of my gown unties the back, and the light garment pulls completely off. She is left holding the only clothing I have and while her initial expression is one of surprise, I can't help but notice her stunned, incredibly wide blue eyes moving up and down my au 'natural birthday-variety suit.I lean over carefully across the car's center arm rest, whispering in her ear."Could have let me put the ring on you first, cutie. But hey, get it; it's been a long four months for you to go without my awesomesauce, hella, super-hot bod, so if you wanna, I'm all yours." I pump my eyebrows up and down to make the point.The kiss we share could have generated an entire universe’s power needs and goes on for what feels like years. I manage to slip the ring onto her finger, sealing the deal. For all intents and purposes, we got married at that moment, in the early morning darkness, in a truck stop; it is the start of a new chapter in our lives. I honestly don’t remember what time it is when I pull out to continue the drive home, but the sun was already rising by then, and Max insists I try to cover myself. Honestly, I just think she doesn't want to share with the other people on the road, which is cool by me. The moment we arrive back in town, after numerous stops to get gas and snacks, we stop off briefly at home to unload and get myself dressed, because they kinda frown on you walking into the county courthouse naked. Who woulda' guessed? Anyway, an hour later, we make it official.
October 2025
Flight 2117 SFO --> YVR
Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are on final approach to Vancouver International Airport. Local time is 10:27, and the temperature is 13 degrees with light rain in the forecast. On behalf of Air Canada, I'd like to thank you for flying with us. Good day and have a safe journey to your final destinations.
Mmmmmm. I open my eyes and find that I am once again sitting in the seat of an aircraft, its soft leather a huge step up from steerage beyond the curtain behind me. I am on the window side, it being on my left, and a soft head of brunette hair that has a hint of coconut leans against me from the aisle seat. My wife is still sound asleep, so deeply in fact that her mouth is hanging open and a tiny bit of drool dangles from its corner. Her quiet snoring is incredibly adorkable, and it crushes my heart that I need to wake her in a few. I think back to the recent dream, it's more of a memory than a true dream really. It took us a year to get over that incident, and fuck, PTSD is a real bitch sometimes. I guess our recent visit to the Bay Area triggered it, and some of the phantom pains caused by events that technically never happened linger. In fact, I feel a slight twinge of a headache coming on even now."Can I get you anything else before we land?" The flight attendant, a well-groomed man, quietly asks. He has a tray upon which are warm washcloths that they give out to first class passengers. That will help a whole lot, so I nod, and he picks one up with tongs and hands it to me. "How about for your companion?"Gently, I nudge my sleeping dork, but all it did is make her snore just a little louder until she hides her face in my now trapped arm. She’s sooo fucking cute, even when she’s drooling on me.Can’t. Get. Enough. Of. Max."Nah, got everything we need right here." The man nods politely and moves on to the other passengers.With my free arm, I unroll the towel, and place it across my face. As I breathe in the steamy vapors that have a lemon scent, its warmth combined with the comfort of my Max blanket melts the headache away before it can really set in. Ten minutes later, our attendant passes by again, collecting the towels, any remaining trash, and then he too settles down into the bulkhead's jump seat and straps in.After a couple of bumps, we were on the ground and taxiing to the arrival gate. I lean over and start gently nibbling at Max's ear, whispering quietly to my wife that it is time to wake up.Very sleepy blue eyes look all around, find what they are seeking, meaning me, and a smile forms on her face."We there yet?""Yeah we are, Maxaroo. Just one more hop, and we're home."After an astonishingly wide yawn, my partner stretches her full length across me, taking up both seats, and I take the opportunity to wrap both of my arms around her torso. "Sleep well, Babe?"She tips her head up and down while rubbing her eyes. "Uh huh. You?""Had that dream again."Her expression immediately morphs into concern as her eyes fully open. She is always quick to react whenever she thinks I am having trouble. She continues to lay across me, and one of her hands, like magic, intertwines with my own."You wanna talk about it? Any headaches?""Just barely one this time. They gave out warm towels just a bit ago. Was really nice, and it kinda just fizzled out, so the noggin is fine. Otherwise, let's get outta here and meet Sloane. The sooner we get home, the better, yeah?""K." She squirms a bit to get to the right angle, and then kisses the tip of my nose, following with a light brush of her lips against mine. I release her, just as the seatbelt sign turns off, and we scramble like every other passenger to exit the plane.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
October 2025
Somewhere near Salem, Oregon
Interstate 5
The afternoon sun slips behind a cloud, it's a relief because its baking glare is otherwise cooking me while I'm trapped in this God damned piece of shit car. While diminished slightly, the intense rays continue to sear my fucking arm. Even while it is a bit more tolerable, the heat and radiation aren't doing my healing skin any favors.
Itch itch itch.
I grit my teeth, grinding them due to the incredibly maddening sensation. I'm not in a good mood, in fact if someone were to be with me right now, say a hitchhiker or I get pulled over, I might just blow them away. I glance at the .357 laying on the passenger's seat, and the idea brings a little smile to my face.
Itch itchy itch.
I scratch at the peeling skin on my arm, running my finger nails up and down its length. The doctors in Tripoli warned me not to disturb my wounds, even suggesting some sort of third-world balm to help the healing process. The caustic goo that smelled like yak piss would have probably given me ass cancer in the space of a week, but now I wonder if it would have been better than this insane, constant irritation.
Itchy itch itch.
I bang my arm against the door's sill, hitting the sensitive spot under the elbow which makes the entire limb go numb and tingly. The feeling is almost heavenly, and I sigh in relief. I just wish this rental I'm driving had air conditioning. It's a huge step down from the Bentley I used to own. The damned assholes at the airport screwed up my reservations for a vehicle. Apparently, the idiot could hardly read plain English, just like the cannon-fodder back in the desert, so instead the fucker hands me the keys to a base-model Kia. Without environmental controls, the cabin becomes a literal oven, so the only option left is to keep the untinted windows open. At least the breeze at seventy miles-per-hour is enough to keep the surprisingly hot fall temperatures from completely roasting me.
Itchy itchy
itch itch.
Fuck!I scratch some more, placing my knee under the steering wheel to keep the vehicle steady along the almost perfectly straight road. Painful as it was during the previous months, it's the constant itch now, like a swarm of insects burrowing into my flesh that I hate the most. Every time I run my fingers along the exposed skin, I almost wish for the painful second-degree burns; I can handle that. But this incessant itchiness up and down my entire left side, the aftermath of being inside an exploding building a couple of months ago, is like a swarm of insects burrowing into my flesh.
Itch.
Itch.
Itchy itch itch.
>Ring<
Contact: Unknown caller
>Ring<
I stab at my phone to take the call, then resume scratching the corner of my shoulder. Again, I'm in no mood for whoever is on the line. Right now, I don't give a shit."WHAT?!"
Voice: Jefferson, our men in San Fran' didn't find anything out of place.
"Fine! Management expected that. It's part of the plan. Did you track them?"
Voice: Yes. They arrived in Vancouver on schedule, but there is a problem.
"A problem? How hard is it to keep your eyes on two fucking bitches? Jesus Christ, do I have to do everything my fucking self?"
Voice: Our contact says they didn't board the last flight.
"You've got to be kidding!"
Voice: Negative, sir. She sent us the entire passenger list; the targets were booked, and we had our people in place, but they did not check in.
"Okay, whatever! At least we know where the flight was headed. Find some assets and figure it out. I want to know exactly where the bitches ended up."
Voice: We have a couple of RCMP in the general area. I'll get them working on it.
"Driver: Good. The place isn't that all that big. Don’t move in, I just want them located. I mean it; you mess this up and management will not be as forgiving as I am!"
Voice: I understand.
>Click<
I slam my right fist into the steering wheel out of frustration, forcing the vehicle to swerve slightly into the left-hand lane. After correcting its path, I watch as a road sign sweeps past me; my exit is coming up and is another waypoint in my trip to the small town where I used to teach photography. Arcadia Bay is about two hours further north and is a place I haven't been back to since my time in prison.I hate that fucking town with a passion, partly because I got caught by that thug Madsen, but mostly because the one person I so wanted to get to know better seemingly slipped through my hands. Being at the pinnacle of my art, I take that shit very personally.At the time, I didn't realize how she could be so lucky; she seemed to simply be able to avoid not only my interest in her but had something like a sixth sense where it comes to what previous generations called 'stranger danger.' It wasn't until Sean and Henderson arranged my supposed death in that Texas hellhole that I began to understand perhaps how she did it. Sean had a theory backed by research his organization stumbled upon. It seemed ludicrous at face value, but it also fit every fact and memory I have of my former student.
And I almost had her again!!
I'm still seething over the failure of our recent attempt. We had the Price bitch almost completely conditioned; she would have been the best way to get control of Caulfield. Then, the next thing I know, the whole camp burns to the ground and she's gone. There's no way the dyke could have escaped without help, but none of us, not even Sean's contacts in the government, have any intel as to who it could be. The only clue is a sighting by one of the ground units of an aircraft, a Canadian one of all things. Seriously, some of these hired idiots don't know a plane from their assholes, so they probably misidentified it to begin with; might explain why inquiries about it all lead to dead ends. Add to that the fact that we still haven't pinpointed Caulfield and the rest of them, as based on my recent phone conversation, and it all points to us needing to go to Plan B.Of course, that's why I'm heading up the Oregon coast. Sean and his colleagues have a plan to lure them to the Bay, and I need to get there and lay low until they take the bait. Maybe they'll scout us out first, sending just one to investigate. Even if it isn't Max herself, but perhaps another that's familiar with the area, it'll be easy to grab them. Honestly, I'm hoping the Marsh woman shows up, not only will it give us leverage, but the thought of turning the church-girl into a play-toy excites me. Maybe there will be a chance for a photo session with that one, and imagining the fun I'll have makes the drudgery of this drive bearable.
Mmmm, I wonder how much innocence she...
Itchy itchy itch itchy itch.
DAMN IT!!!
I scratch madly at my left wrist and the flaking skin, drawing a little blood while swerving into the grassy shoulder along the off-ramp.
FUCK!!!!
Itchy itch.
I tug at the wheel, getting myself back on the road. The sun has come out from the clouds, and it's right in my face now. I can feel pricks of sweat already beading on my forehead and dripping down the sides of my face. For all intents, it's like I'm back in the desert wasteland; I'm an ant under a magnifying glass, and the baking furnace starts cooking me alive as the speed limit drops to thirty-five. Cranking the knob for the ineffective fan this vehicle offers is no help because the built-in heater is somehow stuck on full blast no matter how much I fiddle with the dials.
Itch itch itchy...
It's going to be a long fucking drive.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Texas Star Newspaper Archive
March 02, 2017
Second Page
US Marshal Killed During Prison Riot
Today, federal penitentiary officials confirmed the death of Jacob Henderson, an 11-year veteran agent of the US Marshals Service. Henderson was in the process of escorting a prisoner from the facility to a jurisdiction in Oklahoma when a scene of violence broke out in the cellblock adjacent to the processing center. Eyewitness reports suggest key security measures had been overlooked in the hours preceding the events. Officials at the complex continue to downplay the riot as "... actions of a handful of convicted criminals which will be dealt with to the fullest extent of the law." The prison remains locked down while authorities investigate the incident.
We have reached out to the Department of Justice, seeking comments about the overwhelming evidence that outdated and lax procedures led to the death of one of their own. No response has been received at this time.
Western Canada, near Kamloops
October 2025
The Funny Farm
"So, we know Sakamoto was in on this. But what's his angle, except financier?""I'd still like to know how the fuck those goons conveniently showed up while Max was inside. How is that even possible when she undid everything?""Does this tie into anything you've heard in D.C., Vicky?""Can we talk about that quantum computer for a sec?" "I... think I need a beer. Anyone else want one?"I press my fingertips to my temples and try to regain my patience. We all have questions and, frustratingly, not a lot of answers except that, yeah, a beer does sound pretty good right now. I turn towards our newest team member, the owner of the home we use as our base of operations. Swirling my finger around to gesture to all of us, I mouth a silent 'yes, please' to Sloane who then grins as she gets the intended meaning. The woman scoots away from the table and leaves the conference room to bring some refreshments for all of us. The heavy door closes with a bang, one perhaps a little louder than usual. Sloane is pretty casual most of the time and her seemingly intentional action may be the small shock our team needs to get the conversation back on track. The room goes silent, and everyone looks around and at each other, then to the heavy door our friend just exited.Victoria is the first to say anything, and in a very un-bitchy way, too."Was it something I said?"The pixie-cut blonde immediately turns her head to her mentor and now friend, looking for guidance. Sitting next to her, the shorter of the two, Kate shakes her head then shrugs, placing a hand lightly upon the uncharacteristically reserved woman's arm to reassure her. Vicky's confidence took a hit over the summer when we determined she was a mole in our organization, and our logistics wizard decided to help build it back for reasons both professional and personal. Given the blush on Vic's cheek, it seems to be becoming more and more personal to the previously stuck-up blonde also.When no one else speaks up, all eyes shift to me."Nope, Sloane just went to grab us some drinks. I think she is trying to tell us something.""God damn, a beer sounds awfully good right now."Inside, I smile at Chloe's remark. Ever since me and my wife reunited back in '13, I've never seen her pass up a drink."I could use one too."Katie typically doesn't drink and is often a model of patience and self-control, letting her faith both spiritually, and in her friends, guide her behavior. Over the summer, though, the blonde has changed, not in a bad way but we all see a more assertive nature. It probably has to do with the brush with death the scar across the side of her head reminds us about. The wound combined with the short fuzz of her regrowing hair, gives the girl a more roguish appearance, which is something that both Chloe and Sloane gladly encourage. Though Kate still resists swearing, we all can tell she's getting to enjoy being told she looks 'badass,' especially if it's Victoria saying it."Yeah," I say. "We can all use to blow off some steam. I get it people, really. Some of the info Chloe and I discovered in San Fran' just creates more questions than answers. So, let's just stick to the facts as we know them."I want to get this brainstorming session over with so we can plan the next phase of the operation. To keep things under control, I point to Chloe, not out of preference, but because she's brought up the most important issue; once again, we've been somehow detected."Chloe, you first.""Like I was saying, those fuckers showed up out of nowhere, just as you were most vulnerable. How?""Good question." I look around the room. "Anyone?" Everyone stares at others in the room, but no one speaks.Warren slowly raises his hand, not wanting to break the silence."Dude, this isn't a lecture hall, what's on your mind, Warren?""Well, I can't help but notice the specs about the computer equipment you located. There might be a connection."I wave my hand in a circular, sweeping motion, trying to coax him for more. "What about it?"He gestures to our resident logistics expert. "Kate, could you bring up the scans and photos, please?" Then he approaches the screen that drops out of the ceiling, the video and images appearing. He points to the supposed quantum device as the recording plays back. "Now put up the Chinese D3722 design, if you would, please."Kate's practiced fingers type a series of commands on the table's embedded keyboard, and then scales the prototype sketches to the dimensions of the still pictures already shown. Warren, then directs our attention to the cooling tower and refrigerant container."It's not a perfect match of course, probably because the original design is supposed to work off of liquid nitrogen. But notice the flanges here, and here. Clearly this is a helium source, just like the scan predicted.""Blah blah blah, Ape-man. What is that supposed to mean?" Chloe is way smarter than she leads on, but she and Warren have always been minor adversaries ever since he tried to hit on me during high school. Couple that with her natural impatience, and the vibe she's giving off is less than conducive to our discussion. I narrow my eyes and shake my head slightly, only so much that she would notice."Go on, Doctor Graham." I purposely mention his credentials to give the man a mental boost. It's something he responds well to, especially after learning of the crushing intel Chloe and Sloane uncovered concerning his deceased ex-fiancée."Uhm, right. Well... such a device works just above absolute zero, right? A little under five degrees Kelvin, that's the liquification temperature of helium. The entire system thus operates in an almost cryogenically frozen state. Anything of such a low energy-state is seemingly contained within a natural stasis field.""Like in science fiction books and really fucking bad fan fiction?"I giggle at Chloe's question because it reminds me that she does writing of her own, and we've all read the stories she published. So, she's giving herself a little dig to show Warren that her outburst wasn't meant seriously. The man get's the reference, then cracks a smile back at my wife before continuing."Something like that, Chloe, but instead of, say, a stasis field where no time passes for things inside the effect, it's more of a stasis state. The difference is that in a stasis field, everything completely stops with no possibility of any energy or information transfer. On the other hand, in a stasis state such things, like a qubit matrix, exist in an almost completely separate reference frame, while still being entangled to its counterpart in the normal world. While I'd have to examine it firsthand, the overall mechanism would be incredibly sensitive to changes in the rate of time. An observer in what we call the real universe would be able to measure these variations. My running hypothesis is that it detected Max's first rewind at the site. All of this, of course, is only theoretical. It could just be a super cold sno-cone maker."He grins around the room, at all of us, while congratulating himself over the joke he just made. I watch one by one as each of my teammates either gags, puts their palms to their face, or rolls their eyes. Except for Katie, that is, who smiles politely at our resident nerd.
I don't think Warren is destined to go into standup comedy anytime soon.
It's a good thing Sloane chooses this particular moment to open the door and roll in a cooler, otherwise some of my team members may have throttled the dork."Who's thirsty?" Then the muscular brunette turns to everyone and notes their expression, especially noting the doctor's worried face. "Wow, tough crowd, Doc. Maybe you should have started like Chloe does. Here, use this..." She reaches into the ice filled cooler and hands the man wearing the white lab coat a beer. "Chug it and then belch. Works every time."Heh heh. This team is so awesome. Each of them has a superpower, even if they don't know it.Kate is the most forgiving person I know, and a wizard at organizing everything. She really is the lifeblood of the organization. As more and more time passes, we're all getting convinced that she has feelings for Victoria, something I have no problem with. Vic needs a solid, morally good person in her life to help her through the issues she has.Warren, while even more nerdy than ever, borders on genius level across a whole range of science and engineering fields. His problem-solving skills and technical abilities totally help to keep our team safe and able to operate.Victoria Chase... Yeah, she's always been a bitch, until recently. It seems under Katie's guidance, the woman is getting some sense knocked into her, sometimes in surprising ways too. Vic's whole attitude is becoming more tolerable, while still having a hard edge. But the woman's ability to navigate and survive the DC swamp gets us the funds we need. Her network of contacts keeps us informed of all the latest top-secret information from any of the alphabet organizations. Now that she's back on our side, we will need every dirty trick she knows.Chloe is not only my perfect match and foundation, but an expert at all things that go boom. My hot-headed pirate captain is ex-military, tough as nails, yet has a soft, swishy interior I simply cannot live without. The fact that we share a special connection just shows how much we are two pieces to the same whole.And now we have our friend Sloane. The former Royal Canadian Navy Senior Chief is literally a woman of all trades, from pilot to covert operative and everything in between. She plays hockey like a pro, is a qualified medic, can drive a semi-rig, dive to the bottom of the ocean, and probably wrestle an alligator successfully, all in the same day, and then throw a BBQ party for all of us. She adds a type of whimsical humor to the team that compliments and competes with Chloe’s punkish sass; Sloane has an almost sixth sense for when to crack a joke. The woman hardly ever gets frustrated, choosing a unique brand of silliness to express her feelings. As far as I'm able to discover, she seems to only have one known weakness, and mostly keeps thoughts about the mysterious 'Bella' to herself.
We're a hella good team, all of us.
"Gimme!" Chloe's hand shoots out and she, sitting at the opposite end of the conference table, stretches her entire length across its surface. Sloane pushes an icy bottle towards the thirsty soldier, the condensation making it slide smoothly into my blue-haired wife's hand. She wiggles backwards, scooting towards her seat and causes the tank top she's wearing to bunch up, exposing her muscled torso and a little bit of boob.I raise an eyebrow but say nothing, enjoying the view. Far be it for me to let a little boob-action go to waste; I'm sure I read something about this in the marriage certificate.Victoria rolls her eyes, and her forehead wrinkles in annoyance. "Chloe, can you please try, one of these days, to act something other than a barbarian? Ugh, and maybe wear a bra? That’s..." She points to the left breast that is popping out. "... disgusting."
There's the Queen-bee we all know and love. I knew she was hiding inside somewhere.
Honest to Dog, it is sooooo fucking hard to keep from laughing, but I hold my tongue to see how this plays out. I can literally, word-for-word, predict exactly what my wife’s response will be; it'll be interesting to see how Vicky handles it given the changes in her behavior.As expected, and in true Chloe form, she turns her body onto her side and faces our still quite stuck-up political liaison, who then starts making retching sounds. Head propped up by her arm, my mischievous pirate captain gives Vicky a completely unobstructed, front row view."And you're looking... why? Maybe you like what you see, eh, Vic?"I shake my head slowly as the blonde's face turns beet red and the woman realizes that she's been staring the whole time, quickly looking away. I am just about to put an end to this before it gets out of hand, but someone beats me to it.>SMACK!<The usually mild-mannered Kate is standing beside Chloe's chair, her palm hovering over my wife's left butt cheek, and ready to administer another lesson. Even I didn't notice when she casually stood up from her chair, walked to the end of the table where Chloe's legs dangled, and landed the first stinging, full palm reminder about who is really in charge."Bad Chloe! Leave Vicky alone and sit your ass down!"Even Sloane, who is on the verge of hysterical laughter, winces at the impact. "Oh! You've sooo been owned, Blue!"Needless to say, Chloe squirms back to her seat, adjusts her shirt to a more suitable level of modesty, all the while never taking her eyes from the shorter blonde. Kate makes her way back to her own chair, calmly sitting down and folding her hands in front of her like nothing happened."Well, that was... exciting." Warren has conveniently been more focused on his tablet the whole time, only paying limited attention to the women's shenanigans.I clap my hands together to get us back on track. Normally none of us are overly formal, we are all friends, almost like family, so meetings like this often devolve into situations like we all just witnessed. I would be lying if I didn't admit that it is usually either Chloe or Sloane, often both, who cause most of the ruckus; it's a small wonder the two haven't burned the place to the ground in the three months since we've been here. So, on the one hand, it is awesome to see Katie get into the fray and come out on top, but on the other hand, what Warren has said, if true, is a startling bit of insight."Alright, so before all of this," I gesture across the table to the blue-haired troublemaker, "you were going on about how this device would be sensitive to changes in time. Right, Warren?"The man takes a small sip of his own beer, then swipes at his tablet, which then mirrors to the big screen. On it, hastily written notes and graphs are now written in the margins next to the diagrams."It would be incredibly so, Max. I just don't have the foggiest idea why a money guy like Sakamoto would need one. I mean, a quantum computer is of limited use for transactions, like the purchase and sale of stocks, bonds, and the such. Unless..."All eyes are glued to Warren, who has gone back to doodling on his tablet. Scribbles of math, looking more like hieroglyphics than any modern equations appear on the screen along the bottom borders. He scratches some out, adds more until almost the entire view is filled.The scientist leans in closer to the computer, mumbling more to himself than the rest of us. "Crypto... block chain... that could be it... uhm... no... that would take billions of... years..." The nerdy man looks up from his tablet, returning from his own special little world, wide-eyed, as if he is on the verge of an amazing discovery. "... but... that's ludicrous... it would only work if..." My old high school friend opens his mouth, turns his head and looks directly at me."Warren? Uhm... you have an idea?""Max, I have a hypothesis about what this is for. Not only can it detect time variation to an incredible accuracy, but it might also operate in other ways, except... For it to work, that is, if my theory is right, it would mean you'd have to be somehow plugged into it.""What???" Chloe's hand slaps the table so hard it makes everyone jump, considering we've been so focused on Warren.I retain my composure and pace around the room. After a particularly large gulp of my own drink, I wipe my mouth and sit down on the corner of the table, facing everyone."Well, there's not a chance I'd ever help him or his organization."Warren only shakes his head, clearly, he is already two steps ahead of his own thoughts, kinda leaving us guessing. "Uh, you might not have a choice in the matter. Look," he switches the display, "the system right now is nothing more than any other quantum device, except this particular one has been modified to measure the rates of time. If I'm right, that's how they knew you were there, by observing the relationship between the entangled quantum bits, in this case the difference between the stasis state, and the normal state. It would always be a constant unless something or... someone... changed time itself."I nod, understanding the basic idea. I might not be a science dork, but I'm not dumb, and neither is anyone else in the room, and it's my power we're talking about. Kate, though, has already walked the idea backwards, as her mind is sorta tuned to planning aspects."Warren, I have a really bad feeling about this. If what you're saying is true, then, and this computer can sense Max's power... I mean, you just don't go building one of these things for a hobby, right? No offense, but the only person smart enough to do that is standing right here with us." She points to Warren, who just shrugs. "It takes all sorts of preparation, know-how, money, and people power; it's not something that happens overnight. Logistically, this is years' worth of effort.""Not to mention some pull in extremely high places." Victoria brings up her own tablet, types in a few instructions, then resumes. "Some of the equipment is on the restricted list, DOD brass, or above. You can't just walk into Home Depot for off-the-shelf parts. Even the leaked Chinese design is almost one-hundred percent custom built."The two blondes look at each other, both agreeing with the other's point. Vic nods, allowing Kate to finish. "So, all this planning and prep... no one sets out on a job like this without a reason, a motivating factor.""Oh, holy shit! Kate, are you saying what I think you are?" Chloe has obviously figured out something, and I have an idea what it is, based on the way she leaps out of her seat.Sloane walks up next to me. Having been silent up until now, I know she is running through all of the scenarios and basing details on her own experiences. "It would only be logical, Boss. It fits all the facts.""They do." Warren agrees. "While we don't know exactly what their overall objective is, I'd think we have enough evidence to say a couple of things. Firstly, they know about our organization, that much is clear even after Chloe's capture. Secondly, they have people working for them in very high places; we all saw the recordings of the ledgers with names from all across the world."Warren pauses, wiping something from the corner of his eye. We all know why and remain silent."I'd wager every one of them is compromised in some way. And lastly, probably the most troubling of all, is the way this system works can only point to one conclusion."Shit! That's what I think too, but I let him finish."They know about you, Max and what you can do. There's no reason someone would build this, unless they have a suspicion that time, or history, is being changed. No matter what implies about failures in national security and state secrets, I can only conclude..." Warren hangs his head, trying desperately to not look at me. I raise my hand, so he doesn't have to be the one to give me the bad news."And that means we walked right in there and gave them all the proof they needed. I've been their target this whole time."Everyone nods, agreeing with my assessment, which only makes me shrug. I've been a target once before and I beat that fucking asshole when I was only in high school. This shit might be bigger than we know, but so are we. In the immortal words of Captain Bluebeard, my beautiful Marine and perfect match…
Fuck off, bitches! Try me!
Looking back at the room, I know it is time to take a break. "Okay, team. Now we know. Let's get outta here and kick back. Break for lunch, and then we'll resume." Everyone needs to unwind and relax; it's when we all usually get our best ideas. "Who's on grill duty today?"Surprisingly, mainly because no one told me the woman has been placed on the rotation we all agreed to, Victoria straightens her back, raising her hand."That would be me, Max."From the other side of the table, on my left, a certain soldier-girl with blue hair starts making puking noises. I'm just turning to tell her to stop, but once again another person beats me to it, smacking Chloe upside the back of her head. I swear Katie has discovered a way to move around without anyone noticing. I sure didn't."Chloe, knock it off and apologize! Or so help me God, I will whip some manners into you as well!"I look at Sloane, who's standing next to me. She mouths a 'Wow!' at me, and I nod in agreement.We all filter out of the conference room, and onto the patio, wondering just who oversees this rabble we call a team.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Western Canada, near Kamloops
October 2025
The Funny Farm
During lunch, thanks to Victoria and Katie's combined and unexpected talents with the outdoor kitchen, we are munching on burgers and roasted corn until our bellies are bursting. Even Chloe, who was initially skeptical about placing anything into her mouth that Vicky touched, eventually can't resist the always hungry, growling demon that resides in her stomach."Yo, Chase! This ain't half bad." She says while lounging in a chair at the edge of the pool.The blonde woman turns away from her own plate of food, directing her gaze over her shoulder and towards my wife to reply."Thank you, Chloe."Of course, being who she is, my blue-haired punk simply can't keep her mouth shut."Really surprised, Icky Vicky, hella expected it to taste like ass, but you know all about that, don't ya?" The woman laughs, then begins holding her throat with both hands and makes puking noises like she did earlier.
Sigh... Kinda figured this would happen again. Chloe and I are gonna need to have another long talk later on. No matter what she says to the contrary, I get that she's still getting over what happened at that camp, as well as her reasons not to trust Victoria completely. But, my wife agreed she would at least try to be civil if Vicky's own behavior improved.
The pixey blonde narrows her eyes, holding up a middle finger, and Chloe only grins and returns two of her own. The silent glaring match doesn't last long, though, because the lounge chair, punk and all, tumbles into the pool with a huge splash.Katie then rejoins us, the severe expression on her face from moments ago dissolving with each step; she quietly continues eating the blackened salmon Vic prepared especially for her. Sloane, on the other hand, shakes her head and grabs the rescue pole from its holder on the side of the house, then goes over to the pool to fish out a floundering Captain Bluebeard.
The salmon smells good, even if I'm not a fish kinda gal. I'd try it at least.
"I tend to agree with Chloe's compliment, no, not the ass stuff. You did a good job, Victoria. Where did you learn to cook?" Warren seems to be genuinely interested since he's turned away from having his nose buried in his ever-present tablet computer. He and Victoria never really have any problem with each other since their history and current lives involve separate spheres.Our new head chef, for all intents anyway, nods to the man across from where she's sitting, at least acknowledging Warren's compliment, although there's a weird look on her face. Katie scoots just a little closer to the taller woman, and a perfectly manicured hand drops below the lip of the table, and I see that Kate's is already down there ready to receive it.
Ah, so cute. Reassurance or something else?
At first, Vicky scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Well, if you must know... Ow!" The woman eyes Kate, who's tipping her head towards Warren."Victoria, you promised you'd be nice. Please tell Warren you're sorry and try again."I watch as the remnants of the former Queen Bee of Blackwell tries to resist, her high-class upbringing providing the necessary justification to once again crush other people, even friends, beneath her Jimmy Choo sandals. And yet, realizing the woman sitting beside her seems disappointed, Vic tentatively clears her throat."Uh. Sorry, Warren. Thank you for the compliment. Honestly, I learned because I didn't have much of a choice. All I ever had growing up were servants, a butler, housekeepers, gardeners, and a live-in chef; Mother and Father were never home. So, when I was hungry one night, fuck, I was like ten years old, Chef caught me raiding the fridge. I was a judgmental little twot back then. Really, all I ever saw in the woman was that she was a menial service-worker. And yet, after she took me under her wing, I realized how much skill, education, and actual love of food it takes to reach her level. Huh, I never did find out what her real name was. Anyway, this is the result. So yes," she gestured to herself. "This bitch can cook, and I'm only just now recognizing that I'm proud of it.""Like I said, it was really tasty.""Thank you, Doctor Graham. It means a lot."Victoria turns her face away and focuses on Kate."Better?""Very much. Thank you, Victoria. And just so you know, the salmon is delicious."The taller woman blushes as I take another bite of my burger. They are so fucking adorable!"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry too, Vic. It was a fucking joke!"
Ah! Apparently, the good captain is out of the drink. This ought to be interesting. Oh! And if you're wondering why I don't step in, well it's because this particular rivalry completely pre-dates my return to Arcadia Bay. I have nothing to do with it. Vic and Chlo need to settle their differences one way or another all on their own.
"Really, Price? Did you ever think to consider that I'm trying really fucking hard to fix my problems? Unlike a certain junkyard piece of trash...""You put me in that camp, bitch!""And the team got you out! What's your point?""I..." I can see Chloe trying to piece together her own logic, only for the crease on her forehead to dip downward as her anger grows. "And what were you doing? Come on, bitch, tell us all how you were selling every single one of the team out!"I resisted the urge to intervene, accepting the fact that our entire group needs to hear this. Chloe is the victim of Vicky's actions, and the two need to come to some sort of... well, I guess truce is the best word. Since I've spoken with the formerly stuck-up blonde as well as my wife, I kinda know what's coming. While I can force the issue as team leader anytime, I know if they work out their problems together, it'll make all of us stronger.Victoria seeks guidance from the woman on her left, but all the smaller blonde does is nod, then points to Chloe. There's a fire in Katie's eyes that suggests a certain person needs to step up to the plate. I watch as Vic dips her head downward and slumps her shoulders."You're right, Price. Totally and completely right. I...""What did you say? I wanna hear it, bitch!""You want me to repeat it, Chloe, for all the world to hear? Okay then, fine! YOU ARE RIGHT! I FUCKING BLEW IT! I PUT EVERYONE HERE IN DANGER BECAUSE I WAS... I WAS..." There are tears in Vic's eyes, great big ones that drip onto the patio's table.My partner-in-crime expression switches between harsh and confused, like she didn't hear right. She wiggles a pinky in her ear, like it's waterlogged."What... what did you say? Was that the Queen fucking Bee apologizing?"Victoria pushes against the table, scooting her chair out so she can stand. Her arm slides away from Kate, and she takes a step towards the glass doors leading inside.I raise my hand slightly, not wanting the woman to leave. "Vic, don't go. You and Chloe need to hash this out if we're ever going to get past it." I raise my voice so Chloe can here. "And we need you. The whole team does."Glowering at my wife from across the patio, her eyes swivel towards mine like some sort of sci-fi tractor field, or beam, or... hell, I dunno; her blue eyes see mine, and how my patience is at an end, then lock on."Chloe Elizabeth...!"I watch as the woman I love deflates. The fight leaves her and perhaps maybe she gets the message, finally."Vic?""What. Is. It. Price?""Dude. I'm... I'm sorry. Don't think that this makes us pals, though, okay?"To my surprise, Vicky is polite and poised, returning to her seat."It's fine, Chloe. I can accept that we work together if you will. For what it's worth, I am really sorry about what happened to you, and I actually understand what you went through, at least now I do. If you ever want to...""Not pals, Vic. Get me?"The pixie-blonde nods but says nothing else, preferring to stare at the remains of her lunch.Okay. I guess that's progress of sorts. I'm still going to have a talk with Chloe before bedtime.Sloane slides quietly up to Victoria's other side, placing a fresh beer on the table. For a moment, Victoria only stares at it, then lifts her head upwards."I think I need something a little stronger.""No problemo, Vicky, gotcha covered!" From behind her back, she brings forward a crystal tumbler filled half full of an amber-gold liquid, a spherical piece of ice floats on top. Thin fingers wrap around the glass."Thanks, Sloane.""Yupparooni!" Retrieving the tall-necked beer bottle, the Chief saunters over to Chloe and offers the beverage."Good for what ales ya', Blue. Heh heh."Everyone groans, and a smirk shows up on my wife's lips."Nice one, Slo'." They fist-bump the other, and both proceed to rejoin us at the big table. Sloane sits on the far end, while Chloe slides a chair next to where I'm seated at the other.That's about as good a segue as I'm going to get, and I tip my head to the Chief who returns a thumbs up."Okay people, we still have work to do. Now we can all go back inside..."Again, everyone groans."... Or, because it's such a beautiful day, we can get the job done out here. That is, if everyone will behave. Chlo'? Vic? Are we good."They both nod. Chloe tries to wrap an extremely wet arm around my shoulders, but I slap it away lightly."Awww...""Dry off first, Chlo'.""K'. Anyone got a towel?"From out of nowhere, a white beach towel flies through the air and into my wife's face, wrapping completely around her head. I glance quickly amongst the team, seeking the culprit, but everyone's attention suddenly seems to be focusing on the sky, ground, or their food, anywhere that isn't in my general direction. A few seconds later, a now dry arm snakes its way behind me."Alrighty then." I begin. "Warren, since you seem to have been working on something throughout lunch, care to continue where you left off?""Thanks, Max, and yes, I have. But before I do, Katie, can you give this a little review and check my data?" He slides his tablet across the table. Kate nods and starts scrolling through the pages, her eyes quickly moving left and right as she reads. "What I've been working on is backtracking the parts for the device you and Chloe uncovered. As I mentioned earlier, a lot of it must be custom built and I realized when Kate was talking about supply chains that there can only be so many firms capable of producing them. In fact, even the US Department of Defense and the Pentagon subcontract a lot of the more research-heavy manufacturing.""Checks out, Warren." Kate hands him back the flatscreen. There's a concerned look on her face. "There are only three companies in the country. Two of them are on the east coast and work exclusively with the D.O.D.; I've pulled up all their current projects. It's the remaining one that is the most... interesting, Max." Her clouded expression grows darker.Warren nods empathetically, then takes the burden away from the concerned woman."It's Prescott, Max, or at least a wholly owned subsidiary. The firm and its fabrication facility are located right in the Bay where American Rust used to be. After the storm, Prescott Industries bought up huge tracts of the land that were destroyed, and this company was founded. They broke ground approximately ten years ago. According to the Chicago HR firm, another subsidiary I may add, the employment records show they've been hiring, and in some cases poaching, big-name talent across all the STEM fields and from every corner of the world. And they all end up in Arcadia Bay."That's interesting. We've had feelers out regarding Sean Prescott's business dealings ever since he was acquitted as an accessory during Jefferson's trial. The businessman's high-priced lawyers earned their pay painting him and his son as just another victim. Of course, it was all bullshit; we know the guy is dirty but proving it has been somewhat difficult over the years. Still... the thought of the Dark Room still haunts me. Because I rewound myself out of it, the team doesn't understand anything about my real experience, except Chloe that is. All they do know is that Victoria and I were on Jefferson's list of future targets.The memory of the Dark Room sends a shiver up and down my body, and I feel Chloe's arm tighten around me."You okay, Babe?"I nod to Chloe as the rest of the group remains silent.After a deep breath, I motion Warren to continue."Well, there's not much more to say. From the purchasing records, it seems they've acquired enough raw material to be able to build two or three more of these devices. Whether they have done so or not is unknown. We don't have any evidence..."From across the table, Sloane, who's been taking notes this whole time, clears her throat and interrupts the man."Actually, Doc, I think we do. Looking at it from a tactical point of view, it's the only thing that makes sense given their ability to not only detect Max's power but locate her like they did in San Fran'. It would only take three to triangulate a position.""That's a good point, Slo'. Which means I'm stuck not using my powers, especially here. It would endanger all of us."Everybody around the table nods, then Warren finishes his thoughts."We need to know more about the system's capabilities, maybe even get a sample. I really think we need to take a good look at the place."An idea starts forming in the back of my mind. I get quiet as I roll it around in my head, and I get caught up in it so much that I don't even realize that they are all staring at me. I blink, refocusing on the people sitting in front of me. Chloe gets a little closer, her face a mixture of concern and curiosity."Maxie?""Uh oh, you've got that look on your face, Boss. You're not thinkin' what I think you're thinkin' and not wanting us to know we think you're thinking it because maybe some of us might be thinkin' of disagreeing, eh?"I unwind Sloane's tongue-twister. Seriously, I don't know how Sloane does it; maybe she's just really good at interpreting body language. Yet, the Chief has all but read my mind. I shake my head, reassuring Chloe who I know is going to immediately veto the idea."Not as such, Sloane. I agree that we need to get a better look, which means going back to the Bay. But since I can't use my powers, we'll need to do it the old-fashioned way."Both the soldier-girls at the table get little evil grins on their faces."Snoop n' poop?" I nod to Sloane."Breaking and entering?""Lots of breaking, Chlo'."The grin grows on her face. "Me likey, Babe, maximum breakage!"Victoria and Katie turn towards each other and speak in hushed voices. When the shorter blonde tips her head, our political liaison brings up the one problem I haven't figured out yet."Max, we need to take into account the sheer number of people we already know they control. Not just the folks at the top of the food chain, who are actually pretty easy to keep track of, but the ordinary ones. Any one of them could be an informant.""That's a good point, Vic. Any suggestions?""Kind of. While I may not have the skills these two thugs have...""Fuck off, bitch!""Whoa there, Vic, no need to..."Victoria raises her hand, halting the two soldiers from pushing themselves away from the table. "No, let me finish, Chloe, Sloane. Okay, maybe 'thug' was the wrong word. My point is that I don't have your experience on the ground. On the other hand, there's a lot that goes on in D.C.: gaslighting, misinformation campaigns, and shit like that, all of which are tools used to sway the masses towards a desired conclusion."I get what she's saying."Sleight-of-hand, right Vic?""Exactly. And while everyone sees exactly what we want them to see, one of us gets to Arcadia Bay. And there's only one of us that can get out and never have been there in the first place if all hell breaks loose.""Wait! Are you saying Maxie does this by herself? Fuck no!""Price, calm down. I'm suggesting Max be the lead element. You'll still get to bust shit up, we just send the rest of us, including a stand-in for Max, in the opposite direction. Chicago, or someplace else Prescott has interest in. I for one would like to know if all their people are getting conditioned first, before being sent onward. It could be useful in the future."I watch as both Chloe and Sloane ease back into their seats. The idea does have merit, and the plan sorta solidifies in my head."Okay, how about this? Because none of this will work if they're not watching us, we're gonna have to make them find me. That means using my powers; If they take the bait, it gives us the hard evidence of the devices capabilities." When Warren nods, I turn to the brunette across the table. "Slo', this is your place, and it would be a shame if it were to end up like the house back in Seattle, but I can't think of a more defensible location. What do you think?""No problem, Boss. I've got a couple of surprises here in case shit goes down. I'm in.""Thanks. Then afterwards, we pull a switcheroo with a body double. That'll free me up to make my way quietly to the Bay and set up recon, while the rest of you make obvious moves towards the Windy City. Warren, this device that detects my rewinds, do you think you can hack into it?"The man shakes his head. "Nope, quantum entanglement is absolute. There's no way to override or influence it. On the other hand, the entire system must be used to record and notify people in this frame of reference. If I get access to their computers, there's no reason why I can't simulate what the device is reporting. We can hide your real time changes in with a bunch of fakes pointing to Chicago. For all they know, it'll be like you're really there.""I like it! Get to work on what you need to do." Warren's fingers blur across his computer tablet.Kate, thinking things through, brings up a good idea. "If we book on commercial carriers, a couple of us at a time, on different days, it'll make it not seem so obvious. If they are monitoring us in some way, it'll look to them like we're trying to be covert about where we're going. We can also start doing subtle misdirection, a campaign if you will, across the public and private sectors. Make queries, do research, toss a few resumes into their system as a prospective employee, and create posts on social media pointing towards our interest in the Chicago firm. If they're paying attention, it may convince whoever it is ""Oh, that's real sneaky, sneaky, Katie! Looks like a bit of Vicky is rubbing off on you."At first, the blonde's eyes go wide as saucers, but then she smiles at Sloane. For reasons we're all aware of, Victoria's face turns a bright pink. Chloe, of course, slaps her hand on the table, keeping her from almost falling over laughing. I can't help but giggle a bit myself, but I try to distract the embarrassed woman before she flees."Vic, the only problem I can think of is who to get for my stand in. We'd need someone about my size, and obviously I'd like to it be a person that can take care of herself if shit hits the fan. You're the one with the contacts. Any ideas?""I'll make a couple of phone calls. The Director is very much interested in what's going on, considering the evidence we obtained, especially since it spans the globe.""Can we trust him?""Probably, though it’s the fucking Central Intelligence Agency, so there might be other games in play; in fact, I would expect there to be. Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping my eye on it. On the other hand, we know The Director himself isn’t compromised, and he did help me, as well as providing the asset who covered Chloe and Sloane's escape.""True. Alright, Vic, let me know the moment you hear back." I stood and panned around the table once more. "Okay, team, once we have that piece of the puzzle, we can move on to timing and prep. When we reach the operational phase, none of you will know exactly when we do the switcheroo. Until then, I'd like each of you to take some time later on to review what we've discussed and try to poke any holes in it you can. The only wrong idea or question is the one that isn't brought up. Katie, can you get with Sloane and clean up her notes then post them on the server?""Sure thing, Max.""Awesome, guys, nice job. I think we're done here. Happy weekend, let's hit the pool!"I really try hard to keep the time on the job we're getting paid for to something resembling a normal set of working hours. Everyone needs a break, even if no one leaves the compound. I expect Chloe and Sloane to resume their shooting match, betting on each other's weekly chores. Warren? Yeah, I'll have to make sure he gets some sleep because otherwise he's likely to tinker for the next forty-eight hours with the training models of the currently deactivated MOLLI AI. And then there's Katie and Victoria... Well, they'll probably continue to spend more and more time with each other.Everyone bolts from the table. Even as a superpowered, time-traveling dork, it amazes me how quickly each of them almost literally breaks the sound barrier as they zoom off in all directions, heading to change into even more casual attire than they are already wearing. Hell, Chloe doesn't even do that, considering the clothes she's wearing already smell of chlorine, she plunges into the deep end, surfacing and fountaining a stream of water out of her mouth."Come on, Maxaroo, be an otter in my water!" The woman entices me by pulling off her soaked tank top and leaving nothing to my imagination."In a minute, Chlobear! I gotta clean up."I walk around the table, picking up dirty plates, empty bottles; Just because I lead this team of friends, doesn't keep me from some of the duty rotations. It's a fair trade for using The Farm as our home and operations center, even if Sloane would probably do it all by herself without complaint. As usual, our compassionate Katie came up with the idea, and we all signed-on, and yes, even a grumbling Chloe agreed, which is probably because Victoria immediately approved of the idea. This week, I'm on cleanup. As I'm carrying the stack of dishes inside, someone turns on the music, filling the patio with light instrumental music with a catchy beat.Gonna be a nice evening, I think. Wonder what Victoria has planned for dinner...
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
October 2025
Western Canada
Near Kamloops
Evening
I sit in my car listening to the intermittent chatter; the broad-spectrum digital receiver I'm plugged into is extraordinarily illegal both here and back in the states. Even while I'm an independent contractor, I don't have the proper clearance to possess such a closely held Company secret which, of course, makes it all the more fun. The unit in question is a result of decades of subterfuge and industrial espionage going back forty years and is able to access the built-in backdoors into communication hardware from Motorola designs to the Ericsson repeaters our northern neighbors use. The benefit, of course, is the CIA can execute its primary charter, gathering intelligence with impunity, and it makes my job as a free agent almost laughably easy.
Tell me all your secrets...
Currently, I am parked on a dark side-road a couple of kilometers northwest of Kamloops overlooking the lake's valley. The sun is just crossing the edges of the hills to the west, creating bands of shadows that starkly contrast the golden rays and make alternating patterns of dark and light stretch across the forested land. If I were a tourist, I'd have gotten out of the beat-up green Peugeot and taken a picture, but that's really not what I do. On the other hand, if someone needs me to play the part of a vacationer, or a mechanic, or even a circus clown, I can easily slip into any of these or a hundred more roles.
And I wanted to be an actor. Funny how things work out...
The radio is tuned into the local RCMP channels, having gotten hints that one or more officers are planning to move on Chloe, Sloane and the rest of the team. For me it is personal... and the two women from my past are gonna be in for a shock. It is hella exciting; I always wanted to meet the ephemeral Max, the girl who abandoned Chloe. I even have a whole speech for the occasion about how much she hurt my old friend. And now that I received a request to actually play the role of Max, I may finally be able to tell her. I guess I'll see how this all plays out, really. From the information I received, I'll be acting the part so the real woman can go off to Arcadia Bay without anyone, neither Prescott nor Jefferson noticing.When I think of those assholes, a shiver goes down my spine. Boy I'd like to take a shot at either of them. Maybe both. I have a score to settle after all.
Always take the shot.
The man's voice echoes from a place in my mind that is usually sealed safely away. It's only been recently that I've started having flashbacks. Does it have something to do with the time I've spent observing the aptly named Funny Farm, often seeing my high-school punk friend? I don't know, but the fear is still there even after all these years. It's a symptom, I'm sure, of my experience being mistaken for dead, or maybe I really was, and buried with the rest of the trash.The radio on the front passenger floorboard beeps, pushing the dark thoughts in my head back into the vault where they belong, figuratively spinning the dial randomly. One day, the horrifying memories will completely break free, turning me and the skills I've acquired into a vengeful monster. For now, though, I'm as sane as I can be and have a job to do. Flicking a toggle, the system automatically locks onto the transmission, syncing with the pattern of switched channels and decrypts the stream of packets that make up an officer's voice. He's a person I've been trailing for a week. I run a hand through my medium length dark hair and resettle the headset to listen in.
<static>
RCMP 1: "I'm positioned by the turn off. The gate to the place is closed."
RCMP 2: "Understood. Are you visible?"
RCMP 1: "No, what do you think I am? This isn't my first time."
RCMP 2: "Okay, okay. Sorry... just don't want this messed up. These people are supposed to be terrorists. Follow and report, that's what we've been told. Apprehend only if they are alone and don’t involve civilians.
RCMP 1: "Roger, but if something doesn't happen soon, I'm going to go in there myself. The hell with instructions."
<static>
With another beep, the earpiece goes silent. I tap a couple of keys on the screen attached to the transceiver, sending a recording of the comms traffic home to the nerds in Virginia. They'll process it, identify each person, and add it to the unimaginable amount of data that is gathered every day. I tag it with a special code that will also route it automatically to the Director himself.Knowing Max and the rest are in possible danger, I decide it is time to make the call. Given my position, I am only a couple of minutes away and I've set up a couple of surprises in case shit hits the fan. Hopefully, I can defuse any conflict so we can move forward with the plan they've come up with. I pull a phone out of my jeans pocket, the same type of clothing I know Max prefers, and hit the dial button on her contact. Putting the cell on speaker, I turn over the clunky engine and slowly turn onto the quiet road. Hopefully Max will follow the security protocols I sent her.
<Ring>
<Ring>
"Thank you for calling Pizza Hut, can I take your order?" I've heard Max's voice over the hidden mic in Sloane's place so that, plus the fact that there is only one Pizza Hut in Kamloops and it's not the number I dialed, helps convince me the person on the other end is genuine."Hello?" I remain otherwise silent.A few heartbeats later, her voice comes over the speaker again."Uh, can I help you? Our specials today are..." She continues the script I prepared and sent to Victoria. Again, it is all about making sure the conversation is secure."Listen carefully. You're being watched. There's a T, right outside Sloane's place. I'm on my way and have an Uber sign in my car. They will think you called for me, but they aren't supposed to involve civvies. We'll be safe. ETA ten minutes."Gotta admit, the woman I am about to meet is good at her job. She keeps exactly to the planned lines like a pro."I'm sorry. I think you have the wrong number. Thank you for calling."
<click>
I head east along the dark road. Slipping on a set of NV goggles, I turn off the car’s lights and press the accelerator to the floor and nurse a little more speed from the tiny motor. Green-haloed trees on either side of the road make it easy to see the edges of the roadway without announcing my presence.My path twists and turns while it follows the northern edges of Kamloops Lake, often the hairpin turns keeping me from seeing oncoming traffic. Thankfully, this part of British Columbia’s population is pretty sparse. Even though its residential sprawl has spread in all directions along highway 1, that's on the other side of the water, and Kamloops itself is pretty much the only major destination around. So, traffic is literally nonexistent, and I don't have to worry about blindness caused by a vehicle’s lights pointed in my direction and magnified by the night vision gear.To stay inconspicuous, I slow the vehicle down and almost coast past Sloane’s farm. I want to see if I can spot the vehicle that is surveilling the place. As the dark gate passes on the left, I catch a glimmer of moonlight reflecting off a car just around the slight curve five-hundred meters ahead of me. Dialing my NVG for magnification, I see it is parked on what looks like a maintenance road used by the electric company to access their towers, hiding behind a stand of bushy spruce trees. Not wanting to pass the watcher, I pull over in the darkness, like I'm lost, flipping the car around and heading back the way I've come. I need to play the role of a for-hire driver, so I pass the entrance to the farm and drive out of sight until I'm sure the RCMP stakeout can't see me. Only then do I reverse course, turn on my lights and the illuminated Uber placard that is displayed on my dash. I pull up the hoodie I am wearing to hide my face, so I appear exactly like I want. I've become extremely good at disguises over the years; simple things like hoods or hats often make all the difference when wanting to avoid being recognized.I drive up to the gate and press the red button on the intercom. A camera swivels, its servos humming quietly, to focus on my hooded face as I lean out the driver’s side window and present a Canadian driver's permit with matching photo, and a QR-based card from Uber that security folks can use to verify my identity in these kinds of situations. All of them are completely legit, even when put under government-level scrutiny. In my job, attention to detail is the difference between life and another death. I'd rather not go through that a second time, thanks.“Can I help you?” The male voice is polite but terse.“I… uh… I have an Uber pickup for a Miss Price?” I grab my phone and hold it up to the camera, allowing the security dude to see the authentic-looking request for service.“Just one moment please.”“Sure, no problem.” I wait until the gate starts sliding aside.“Please pull up to the house along the west side.”I have no doubt I'll be monitored the whole way. Having watched this place for weeks, I appreciate the tight ship they run. So, I do as instructed, driving around to the side and parking under the overhead awning that protects visitors from the weather. While no one is currently visible, the brightly lit entrance is sure to have some cameras and perhaps other surprises. Idling, I wait for my fare to get into the car.
The Funny Farm
Evening
I am just finishing gathering the stuff I will need into my pack. As directed, I'm dressed in a dark, nondescript hoodie over an old red flannel I'd gotten from Chloe’s closet over twelve years ago, back when I returned to Arcadia Bay. A pair of jeans and comfortable white sneakers complete my ensemble. Looking at myself in the full-length reflection, and brushing the bangs out of my eyes, it seems like I've stepped into the past as an older and yet clearly retro version of myself smiles back. It's amazing how fashion sense comes back around to the present day.I wink at my alter-person in the mirror as I pull up the hood. For all intents, I look like just another teen or young woman: ordinary, uninteresting, and forgettable. I have successfully set myself up to hide in plain sight. Anyone who sees me will essentially dismiss my presence as the woman named Max Price. While I look essentially the same as normal, I've added subtle hints that I'm actually in disguise, just like the instructions directed: My freckles are muted by the shadows created by the hood, and yet I have a dozen more by applying some makeup. A little foundation color matches the lighter band of skin's tan line where my wedding ring usually is. Instead of wearing my usual sapphire ring on the finger, a simple gold band will do since I need to leave my real one for whomever is going to replace me. Finally, my hair is dyed my natural shade, which has the effect of removing its highlights. I am one hundred percent still Max, and yet obviously fake to any observer. In the long-term, maintenance is a piece of cake. Hefting my pack, I make my way to the side entrance and am just about to slip through when someone behind me clears their throat.“Going somewhere, Boss?” Of course, it can only be Sloane.I turn, letting my hand slip off the knob while at the same time thinking that maybe I should rewind. But… no, Chloe would know then. Our plan says I'm supposed to be replaced with my doppelgänger without anyone knowing exactly when. Since I have confirmation now that we are indeed being watched, this is one of the safety nets in the op in order to keep the team's behavior normal. The muscular woman, though, sees everything in her home and she moves about the farm like a ghost; I don't know why I even expected to be able to slip out without her noticing.Leaning up against the corner of the wall next to the doorway, she is wearing a plain, white t-shirt and camo shorts, which is typical of our host. Her right hand, though, is hidden behind her back where I know she carries a ten-millimeter pistol. While I'm no threat, Sloane is always super cautious, even in her own house, and it's something I definitely appreciate. Glancing down at her feet, I see she's wearing fuzzy fox slippers; usually if she suspects trouble, she somehow has the time to find either dinosaur slippers or unlaced combat boots to cover her feet depending on whether she feels like stomping on someone or kicking their ass.“Just going out for a bit.” I shrug, and yet all the brunette does is raise a single eyebrow. “Have to run to the store for some… some… more beer. Yeah, we're out.” Dog, that was really lame!“Uh huh…” Sloane crosses her arms, looking very unconvinced, until I see her eyes dart between myself and the thick wooden doorway. Her mouth forms an 'O' and the woman nods"I get it Boss-lady. The game is afoot; I gotcha! Here, turn around a sec."The woman calmly spins me around, and I feel tugs on my backpack. Like any good teammate, she checks that everything is in place and secure."Tsk tsk, Boss, you know better than this. Blue would blow a gasket if she knew you left unarmed, but no worries, I gotcha covered."I feel the side of the bag get unzipped, and a new weight is added. Another tug, and the zipper is closed. After a final inspection, she turns me back around, pulls the hood a little lower over my face. Sloane steps backwards, leans to the left, then the right, inspecting me and trying to find any flaws in my intended appearance. When she holds out her fist, I bump it with my left."Okay, Max, now you're good to go." Sloane grabs the door's handle. "Ready?"I take a deep breath, then nod. The woman twists the knob, then pulls it open, and I see a small, sub-compact piece of shit car idling under the awning. There's a glowing Uber sign on the dashboard."Good luck, Boss.""Thanks, Slo'."Stepping across the stone-paved driveway, I approach the vehicle and note a hooded figure behind the wheel. Knocking on the window, the occupant reaches over and pulls up the lock on the back passenger-side door, and I slide inside. The velour fabric causes little sparks of static along my legs as I get comfortable. Quietly, I open the side-zip on the back, placing my hand on a familiar weapon, but not drawing it out.“Seatbelt, please.” The driver’s calm voice is quiet, muted even, and very familiar. The woman in the front seat sounds almost exactly like I do when I hear a recording of my own voice, and she's even got the tone right. Through the split between the front seats, I watch as reflected hazel eyes turn towards the rearview mirror, studying my features. Okay, she didn't get the eyes right, but I'm sure that's easily corrected by contact lenses.I click the latch and tighten the safety belt across my lap. This is an old enough vehicle that it doesn't have a shoulder strap, and the interior smells slightly musty, like it has been obtained from a cut-rate dealer... or a junkyard.“Uh…” I really don't know what to say. This person is supposed to be Victoria's contact, the one she confided in with me two weeks ago. But from what I can tell, she is just another youngster trying to make a buck. I guess that's the point, considering I'm dressed similarly. I try to make small talk, following the step-by-step instructions I committed to memory. “Uh... Nice car?”“Heh heh… it's a rust bucket. Sit tight while I get us out of here. Then we'll talk.” Slowly, the driver turns the wheel and heads towards the main road. It's kinda eerie, really. The more I hear her speak, the more I'm convinced the woman could be my identical twin.Shrugging, I can't find any reason to argue. The driver just recited each key phrase I was told to expect, confirming the woman's identity. I relax and remove my hand away from the butt of the taser Sloane packed for me, placing my arm on the door’s sill instead. Noticing a wad of used chewing gum embedded on its surface, I recoil, choosing to fold my hands in my lap. Ew, gross!As we roll through the gate, it closes behind us, we turn left, heading east towards the town going at a casual 50 klicks per hour. The way the engine sounds, this is probably as fast as the little car can go."Around the corner there's a cop that's been stalking all of you. He's gonna follow us, but we can deal with it."I lean forward, between the separated seats, to get a better look through the grimy windshield. In the darkness, I can’t spot them. "And this junker is the best you could do? There's no way this can outrun a squad car.""Trust me, we want them to follow, Max. Now sit back and relax, I’ve got this."I try once more to figure out where the police car is, futilely craning my neck to get a few centimeters closer. Knowing the woman is right, I give up as we near a curve in the roadway. I have to trust that she is a professional. Being this close, I notice the small amount of hair sticking out past her hood is also a perfect match for my own color. I hear a click and a beep come from the front passenger’s side and spot a radio on the floorboard. A red strip of LEDs, a gauge, begins to sequentially light up until a tiny voice comes through the headset that is laying on the seat next to the driver.“Oh, you should probably hear this too.” The woman leans over and pulls out the plug that connects the earphones to the rig. After a high-pitched squeal, the voice is now emanating from the unit’s built-in speaker.
<static>
RCMP 1: “... car coming. Looks to be an Uber.”
RCMP 2: “Delivery, or is one of them inside?”
We follow the arc of the curve, hugging the right-hand inside of the corner. Just as we pass the apex, I see a dirt road off to my left, and my driver tilts her head as we pass.
RCMP 1: “I can’t tell. Wait... yeah... there’s an occupant and the driver. Looks to be an eighties Peugeot four-door. It’s a piece of shit.”
RCMP 2: “Noted. Alright, keep your eyes on them. If you can grab the target, do it.”
“RCMP 1: “Pulling out now, should have no problem keeping up. Out.”
<static>
“Looks like we have a fish on the line, Max. This is where the fun begins.”“Where are we headed?”“Shopping, Costco specifically; the place is still open for about another twenty minutes. It’s exactly the place we need to be.”“Cool. I gotta pick up some beer anyway, we’re getting pretty low back on the farm. But then again, I’m not going back, am I?”“Heh heh, Sloane and Chloe drink up all the stocks? Sounds like they haven’t changed a bit. And no, you’re not, Max, but I’ll make sure to bring some back. That's a nice touch and gives the trip a legitimate feel. With any luck, no one will suspect what we're really up to.” The woman doesn't look away from the road, but in the mirror her eyes flick upwards, watching my expression.“Yeah, Chloe and Sloane and... Uh, you seem to have done your homework. Why do I get the impression that you know more about us than just what’s in a profile?”“It’s because I do, Max.”We are in town now, and the woman rolls to a stop at the first intersection. Watching the driver, I can’t pick out many of her features due to the lighting except for the glint of her almost glowing hazel eyes. A little smirk forms on her face just below the edge of the hood's shadow.“While I never contemplated meeting you this exact way, I’ve always wanted to. Me and Chloe go way way back, though not as much as a couple of pirate nerds you might know. I'm sure you're familiar with a certain Captain Bluebeard and her First Mate, hmm?”Not a lot of people know about our younger lives. Sure, the entire team knows me, and Chloe are a pair of Seven Seas sailing dorks, but complete strangers, even those who supposedly work with the CIA, can't possibly know such details. Her words stun me.“How do you...? I mean, there's no way..." I stammer as the possibilities swirl in my mind. "... Only Chloe and I..."I pause for a moment, staring at the cloaked woman; a tingling sensation travels up my spine, washes over my entire body, then a wave of vertigo tips my world briefly on its side. To describe the sensation, it's like having something you are absolutely convinced of, like the law of gravity, or life and death, upended in front of your eyes. The expression 'someone just walked over my grave' suddenly has real meaning. My mind turns to a memory, a picture that is now only ashes. Chloe had it framed and placed in a peaceful corner of our Seattle home's library as a kind of tribute to the woman we both discovered buried at American Rust. The photo was of a beautiful blonde with ripped jeans and a red flannel standing in front of a Pacific Ocean sunset background; it's a shirt, the exact one in fact, that I wear tonight so many years later. Chloe told me the girl wanted to be an actor...“But... But... You’re supposed to be... I mean... Uh...”“Dead?” She turns around, facing forward again as the light changes to green and gives the car a little gas. Traffic isn't too bad in the retail district given the time of day, and our tail easily remains fixed to us about a hundred meters back.“Everyone says that, and honestly, I should be. But through a hella strange series of coincidences, and a little help at exactly the right time, I survived an overdose even though, gotta say, being buried alive sucked big-time. Absolutely do not recommend, Max. Heh heh.”“Rachel... Amber...?” The breathy way the words exit my mouth makes the driver chuckle even more.“I haven’t gone by that name for a long time, Max. It is a reminder of a past full of bad fucking decisions. The Company calls me Raven, now; it’s a code name, obviously.” She sticks one of her hands between the seats so I can reach. “I’m very pleased to meet you; the one and only Max ‘Never Maxine’ Price. You know, I have a whole spiel prepped for this exact occasion and I've been saving it for a long fucking time. Except now that your here, for some reason it just doesn't seem as important.”I grasp her hand, which is almost exactly the same size as my own, and her strong grip enfolds it. “Likewise, Rach. Er, uhm, is it okay if I call you that, or do you prefer something else? I feel we’ve known each other for a long time, given all of Chloe's stories; said we would be great friends if we ever met."“Rach or Rachel is fine, especially since we’re going to be working together. I might as well get used to it again. This is so exciting, like I’m finally coming home!”Her enthusiasm is definitely catchy.Turning the wheel, we enter a well-lit parking lot with tons of cars and people everywhere. Bright lights from inside the warehouse store flood out the large garage-like doors where customers move in and out. Looking back through the dirty rear, I see the police cruiser approaching along the roadway. Rachel fishes around in her hoodie's pocket and retrieves a cell phone, hitting redial.“Hey, it’s me. You ready? Right, just let me pass first.” Without warning, the junky Peugeot picks up a burst of speed and turns along one of the rows of parallelly parked cars, narrowly avoiding a delivery truck that is just beginning to reverse into the lane. After another sharp turn, the woman stops abruptly in a slot between two large pickups which dwarf the tiny vehicle and hide us from our follower's gaze. My driver speaks into the phone again. “Whoo! Close one! Okay, gals, time to start the game. You all know what to do.”Behind us several vehicles all start moving at the same time, causing instant gridlock as the larger truck is now effectively blocked-in from moving either direction. Within the traffic jam, I can barely see the top of the police car, and it's just as stuck as everyone else. Over the radio’s speaker the unknown man’s voice sounds annoyed at the inconvenience.
<static>
RCMP 1: “Goddamn it! I’m stuck in the Costco parking lot. I need you to get your ass over here before I lose them. I can see where they went, but I’m boxed in.”
RCMP 2: “On my way, two minutes. Don’t take your eyes off the target.”
RCMP 1: “I’m trying.”
<static>
Rachel pivots on her seat, leaning across it with a smile on her face. She pulls off her hoodie revealing a newer, but exact copy of the flannel I'm wearing. I notice her hair, now that we have more light, is almost a dead ringer for my own and even the cut is correct; we could almost be twins. Chloe told me that the woman wished to be an actor, and I can see now how talented she is with disguise.“Hoodie's off, Max! Here’s what’s going to happen: You and I are going into the store. Just walk casually, stopping once in a while to browse like any normal customer. When you get the signal, head for the back of the store, by the produce department. Someone will meet you."“What signal?”“You’ll know it when you see it. Just remember, once you do, just keep an even pace, act natural and head to the rear employees-only area. We'll handle the rest.”I nod, removing my own hoodie, and Rachel's eyes look at me up and down, focusing on the old, worn flannel."Wow. She kept it after all these years?"I shake my head. "Not exactly, Rach. I, uhm, kinda borrowed it, you know? Permanently."The woman smiles in a way that makes the faux freckles on her face almost glow."Then it's been in hella good hands, Max. Kinda looks badass on you too."I giggle. "Chlobear says the same thing."The smile on the woman's face turns into a toothy grin. "Chlobear?? Oh my God, that's precious! Max, do you mind if I borrow that? Probably gonna need it when Chloe... I mean CHLOBEAR figures out who I am.""Sure, Rach. Just promise me you'll be honest and not hurt her. What happened to you nearly killed Chloe, and we both saw the aftermath. Dog! I have so many questions.""You have my word, even if she pounds me a bit in the process. And when this is all over, we'll all sit down and catch each other up."Feeling I can trust Chloe's newly living ex, I pick a small object out of my pocket, and hand it to her."Rachel... You're going to be me for a while, and I don't know how long. You're going to need this if anyone is watching that has any sort of skills. You get what I mean?"The woman's eyes tip downward to the sapphire ring in my fingers. Her eyebrows rise, and I watch as her irises contract and expand as they focus on the band that means so much to me."Uh... are you sure? I mean Chloe used to have feelings for me. You know that, right?""I know, Rachel, but if we're going to be successful, we'll need every advantage... even if it's my wedding ring."The woman in the driver's seat gently picks up the ring that I'm offering, looking at it again while it's pinched between her finger and thumb. "You sure? Won't Chloe get upset? I mean, I know how quickly that girl can lose her temper.""Yeah. Just tell her I said it is okay. Trust me, Rach, like I'm trusting you. K?"I watch as Rachel places my wedding band into a pocket in her jeans. Her eyes clearly showing how grateful the woman is with how much I've entrusted her. Kinda makes my anxiety fade away at how seriously she's taking it. That done, I tip my head to the passenger door."Alright then, Miss Rachel Amber, let's get this show started!"Detaching a small handheld from the radio, Rachel clips it to her waist, letting her bright red shirt cover it. After placing a single earbud in her ear, she opens the door and steps out. “Here we go, Max. Let’s put on a killer performance.”I open the rear door and step next to her. Across the way, the tangle of stalled vehicles is still bunched up, each trying in a completely choreographed dance, to move around the others, and getting nowhere really damned quickly. Through the gaps, I see the officer standing outside of his car, waving his arms wildly, and shouting contradictory instructions to the gridlocked drivers. As we walk between cars, and towards the main entrance, I notice, he continuously splits his focus between our direction, and the growing sea of cars. While at this distance I can't hear what he's saying, the uniformed man is seemingly yelling into the microphone attached to his shoulder.
<static>
RCMP 1: “I’ve got two subjects exiting the vehicle. One, the driver, brunette in a red shirt, the other looks... Fuck! They are wearing the same shirts! Where the hell are you?”
RCMP 2: “Just coming in from the east. Maintain contact, remember she’s supposed to be armed and dangerous.”
RCMP 1: “What the hell do you think I'm trying to do? They just walked into the warehouse, so I'm going in on foot. We need backup, like God damned now! There's a ton of civvies here.”
RCMP 2: “The instructions were to not involve our chain of command. Beats me why.”
RCMP 1: “Riiight, but if this goes south, someone is going to have to answer for it. Fucking government always playing games.”
RCMP 2: “It’s gonna be our asses... Alright, I’m just across from the entrance. Going to follow them in. Get yourself over here and keep watch if they double back.”
RCMP 1: “On it.”
<static>
Together we pass through the garage door entrance with a throng of other customers. The store is only minutes away from closing for the day, and it strikes me as a little odd that there are so many people at this time of night. As we walk by rows of huge flat screen TVs, items that Chloe always drools over, I can almost hear her voice in my head like it is the best toy store in the world.“Oh, dude! This one is eighty-five fucking inches!” She’d be only standing a hair’s width away, her nose almost touching the screen. “I can’t even see the pixels! How about it, Maximus?”I always shake my head which elicits exactly the opposite reaction one expects. The kid in her just gets more encouragement to find an even better, bigger unit, and she quickly points it out.“You're totally right, Maximus! That's too damn small, Babe, I like how you think!" She skids to a stop after rounding a corner. "Holy shit-sticks! Hella one-hundred and eight inches, are you fucking kidding me? That's insane in the brain! Come ooooooon, Max! Pleeeeeease?”I smile at the memory which happened just last week. She is so damned cute, and I am going to miss her, even if it is only temporary. I shrug as I make my way deeper into the brightly lit warehouse, my hands pushed into the pockets of my jeans as if I'm just casually browsing. I don't even realize until a couple aisles later that Rachel has split away from me, so after a quick glance in all directions, I stick with the plan. Having been slightly distracted, trying to spot her, I don't notice the person coming from the opposite direction.“Oh, excuse me.” A woman’s voice makes my head snap to the direction I'm walking, and we brush shoulders. The dark-haired girl steps aside and out of my way, and that’s when I notice she too was wearing a bright red flannel. Huh, what a coincidence.“Sorry. I should really watch where I'm going.”“No worries, Max. Just keep moving. Your tail is still on you.”“I...” The short lady turns the corner before I can respond.I continue walking, picking up the pace slightly, going up one aisle and down another, opening the distance between myself and the officer. Without looking, I know he's back there by the sound of his voice speaking on his radio or when the unit beeps occasionally. I can’t make out what he's saying, but it is probably about me. I turn the corner again and end up in the open center of the store where tables and bundles of clothing can be selected. A sign above one of the piles seems much larger than the others and simply reads:
-= Winter Flannels =-
There are dozens of customers milling around and, curiously, every single one of them is wearing shirts that match mine. I make my way around a rack of hanging jackets and out of sight of the officer who has just rounded the end of the long aisle behind me.“Time for you to leave, Max. Don't worry, we got your back.” A different woman, again in red flannel and who is about my height, takes out a phone, swipes it, then taps on a little wireless earbud she's wearing. "Okay, ladies, time for the grand finale!"“Good luck.” She holds her fist up, we bump together, and then she' disappears into the growing crowd.Nodding once, I move to the opposite side of the store, by the rows of food. Almost everywhere I turn, red shirted girls with brunette hair walk, saunter, browse, loiter, or move in all directions, many passing directly in front of the confused policeman without hesitation. Dozens more girls stream from doors that lead from the employee accessible parts of the store, pretending to shop, examine an item, head to the checkout, or any number of typical things a patron of Costco does. The entire place seems to be filled with a sea of red plaid. I pass by duplicate versions of me, occasionally getting subtle nods, a high-five or two, or a couple more fist bumps, all while I make progress towards the produce section.Passing through an air curtain and around displays of fruits, vegetables, and other perishables, I note an employee with a bright yellow safety vest holding the door to the receiving dock open. In her hand, she carries a matching vest, hard hat, and an ID badge.“Your ride is just outside. Take care, Max. It'll be about an hour, but we’ll get you out of town. Put on the safety gear, just in case one of those police decide to come in through the back. We'll vouch for you if it happens.”Setting the protective helmet on my head, and putting the reflective yellow over my shirt, I move through the metal door to the back of a big rig with boxes of cargo. A narrow gap allows me to squeeze between them. It is a false front which hides a late model pickup truck that takes up half the trailer. Lights set around glow red, giving off an eerie hue in the secret space while the rear doors of the trailer close.Rach seems to have hit every detail perfectly. She’s even put my backpack on the passenger’s seat next to an iPhone; there's a sticky-note on its blank screen.-=-=-=-=-=-=-
This is a single-use phone; it's clean. Call us so we know you got to Arcadia Bay in one piece. If she's still the woman I remember, Chloe will probably gnaw through her arm worrying if you don't. Can't wait until this is over so I can tell you all about Chloe and Sloane’s reaction.
Keep your eyes on the local Chicago news. It's gonna be a great show! Damn, Max, this is so much fun!
Laters!
--The Raven.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
October 2025
Kamloops Costco
Closing time
I stand in the checkout line behind another brunette who, like everyone else around, could be my clone, or a duplicate of Max. Waiting patiently, I punch in a real Uber request to return to Sloane’s farm. The show had been played perfectly, and the police that were recently tailing us quickly gave up. Apparently, the two of them couldn’t handle intercepting hundreds of look-alikes. Knowing they will be watching, which is part of the plan, I scoot the two cases of beer forward one step with my foot, while a group of three plaid-covered girls in front of me pay for their purchases. We all act completely alike and eventually I get to the check stand. Even the cashier is in on the game and matches the rest of us. After paying, I make my way past the exit, and move to the edge of the walkway to await my ride home. To my right, an officer with a flashlight is shining the beam towards each individual or group of doppelgängers in a vain attempt to find me, often getting annoyed looks, a couple of curses for his trouble. Now, I want guy to follow me because he needs to jump to the predestined conclusion we've designed into the plan. So when I see an Uber driver roll into the parking lot, I flag him down. The driver rolls down his window as parks on the curb."Miss Price?"I raise my voice so the officer can hear me."Yup! That's me. Max Price!" As predicted the policeman turns and starts heading my way.The dude throws a thumb over his shoulder, and I load the beer first, then get into the back seat. He drives off without another word, leaving the uniformed man to run back to his car. In a curious bit of coincidence, at least in his point of view, the parking lot is now almost completely unblocked, so he has no problem getting back on my tail. That's fine, he's exactly where I want him. At the end of the day, the only thing he'll have to report is that Max, meaning me, went on a beer run.I glance at the cases of drinks to my side, glad to have remembered them. They should soften the team’s surprise, especially Chloe's, when they realize who I am.Am I worried about that, and the reaction? Yeah, I'll be honest, I am a little bit. But I promised Max that I'd be as honest as possible and not hold anything back. Still, this is going to be a lot of fun.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
October 2025
The Funny Farm
The Uber driver pulls up to the gate, something I'd done only two hours ago. The upcoming revelations I am about to make are exciting and make me feel like my younger self, living on the edge. If I'm being truthful, something I promised Max, I gotta admit it hella scares me too; the worries running through my head are like a swarm of a million mosquitoes, each one of them looking for blood. And yet, the sense of homecoming is profound. It's been over a decade since I had a place to feel welcome in instead of just being another anonymous visitor passing through on my way to another assignment.
That's the life you chose, Rach.
It is, and it sure beats the fucking alternative. Now, though, as my driver pulls under the driveway's canopy and stops the vehicle, I hesitate, stopping my hand from pulling on the door's lever. My nerves buzz with conflict of enthusiasm mixed with worry, making me double and triple think about the possible outcomes. It's the confession to Chloe that is on my mind most, and it takes me all the way back to my high school memories.Back then, I was shallow, self-centered... Okay, let's not beat around the bush: I was an immature idiot, and I got my way through manipulating people, their desires, and feelings, all for my benefit. I hated my life, family, and I only wanted to run away from Arcadia Bay. I didn't even have a plan, not really. All I knew was that I wanted to be an actor.How ironic, right? Now look at me; every day I play a new role. God, I was so damned dumb!It amazes me, even now, that I'm alive at all given the consequences of my choices. In all truth, I was reckless and didn't care about my future; it was only by chance that Mark Jefferson had already been under investigation, something I hadn't known at the time. My few memories of the Dark Room are hazy and distorted due to the days-long use of drugs those assholes pumped into me. I recall shards of images and sounds, like pieces of broken glass, of Nathan and Jefferson's faces, bright flashes of light, the clicks of a camera, and a shadowy presence who I interpreted years later as symbolizing my impending demise. I guess eventually my strung-out body simply couldn't take it anymore. Ultimately, though, the authority's probe into Mark's dealings is what saved my life, setting me upon the path I currently walk, one of The Company's independent contractors. For years, I've honed skills necessary for the job and I wear the scars that result. In the end, though, I still want vengeance for what that fucker did to me and, by now, thousands of others across the world. He is going to pay, and if I have my way, he'll know exactly who collects his debt.
The Raven will pick at the corpse and spread his bones across the farthest reaches of this fucking world, leaving them to bleach in the scorching sun.
It is, in my mind, a mildly appropriate hell for that asshole. Maybe I'll set him on fire, too, just because I can.
Burn, baby!
Uh, okay, sorry about that. I have hella strong feelings about Mr. Jefferfuck, and if you were put through what I have, you would understand. Don't judge me until you get yourself dumped in a shallow grave. If you survive, it will change you too; the experience is as life-altering as it is unforgettable.Anyway, now isn't the time for such dark memories, I've got reacquaintances to make. As I reach again for the door handle, I once more run through my mind how I think each of the women I used to know will react. Will they be happy to see me? While I'm hoping for the best, I honestly don't know, especially regarding Chloe. Yeah, I owe her an explanation and an apology; I just hope the beer I brought with me will smooth things over enough so I can actually explain a bit before she tries to kill me.I mean, it's not that I don't hella deserve it. It seems my past is catching up with me, yet throughout the years I still consider her one of my best friends. I wonder if...Shrugging to myself, I exit the vehicle and tap a nice tip into the app for the Uber driver. The curved driveway is just as brightly lit as a couple of hours ago, and cameras around its perimeter and over the doorway swivel to follow me as I cross the distance between the car and the covered entryway. While I appear to be Max, I don't doubt that the door is locked, which means I'll have to knock and announce myself. That'll be strange, because Max would just use her key. I just hope I don't give things away before I get inside, otherwise the assholes that are watching the place might figure out the ruse.Or maybe it won't be a problem after all; to my surprise, the heavy, oak entrance swings quietly open as I get closer. A woman, shadowed by the inside lights, holds it open; based upon her poise and familiar stick-up-the-ass posture, it can only be one person."Victoria Chase, it's been a while. The Director sends his compliments."Obviously, she doesn't recognize me, which is not too surprising considering I look more like Max than the woman she used to know. But, considering she's the one who contacted the CIA, my disguise doesn't seem to faze her."I presume, by your presence, that means we're operational. It's a pretty good job with the disguise, too. It is a disguise, right? Anyway, come in before someone sees." Vic waves a hand towards the interior, inviting me in, then folds both her arms protectively across her chest.I pass the threshold and into the big home, and the thin blonde closes the door behind the two of us. She gets a better look at me, decked out, as I am, like a version of Max Caulfield."You got the hair right, and the freckles too. Considering you two are about the same height, and you even got the voice right, you're almost a dead-ringer. Almost."The woman's compliment, which if I think about it, really doesn't sound like one given the bitchy undertone in her voice, means that while she hasn't quite figured out who I really am, it's clear that something has given my disguise away. Maybe it's her experience dealing with all the phonies in Washington."Nice choice of words, Vicky. What gave it away?""The walk. Max doesn't move like you do."
Ah. Oops. Point noted. It's been a while since I've been a body double.
"I see. And then how do I walk?""Like a prancing fashion show pony on the runway." She rolls her eyes at the thought, then shows me exactly what she means, stepping down the hallway in exaggerated motions, sweeping her sheer robe as she pivots and then returns. She flips her blonde hair with one hand, then crosses her arms to glare at me again.Wow. She still has a chip on her shoulder. Gotcha. So, having never backed down from the ex-vortex club leader, I decide instead to raise the stakes."Fuck, Vicky! I see that after all these years, you're still a bitch." I stare at her, letting her get a good look at my face while I place my hands on my waist and cock my hip defiantly to the side. "Okay then, Vic, who am I? Go on, have a look."Victoria narrows her eyes until they were almost slits, her brow dips downward as she focuses on my features. Waiting patiently as her gaze moves up from my feet, along my blue jeans, rising through my middle, finally coming to rest examining my slightly amused face. Tilting my head slightly to the right, I lift a single thin eyebrow. "Like what you see, Queen Bee?"The blonde's body stiffens as if she's briefly touched an electrical socket, then she moves closer, paying a great deal of attention to my face and eyes. She is clearly trying to see the person behind my mask, and I watch as her eyes dart around. She steps back and doesn't say a word, though her expression indicates that perhaps she's comparing bits of what she's seen to memories of her past. I decide to give her a hint. I giggle a bit in anticipation of her reaction; this is a lot of fun."Hang on a sec, Chase, this will probably help." I reach into a pocket, and withdraw a small plastic case, which I open. With my free hand, I remove the pair of blue-colored contact lenses and place them in the protective container. When I'm done, I stand still and let her come to her own conclusions.The straight line of her lips turns downward, then the woman leans in again to see a pair of hazel eyes glinting with the sheer delight of it all. Her eyes twitch to the left, then the right; it's like she is trying to convince herself of facts that contradict her own memories, and that one plus one is definitely not equaling two; it is an apt analogy considering what my presence suggests.Time for the final act; I take a deep breath, then drop the Max voice and use my own. "How about now, hmm?"Victoria retreats quickly, like she's seen a ghost, which from her perspective I must seem. It isn't easy to shock a person that uses deception and ruthlessness on a daily basis. Her practiced skills working the political games are hard to beat; at least she is on the side of Team Max now. I'd be lying, though, if I said I'm not taking a little enjoyment at Vic's expense; we've been adversaries all the way until the day I 'died.' The woman's hand slowly comes up to cover her mouth, as if trying to keep the words from making her realization true."You... you're... dead."I simply shrug, letting her continue. Holding out her other arm, she braces herself on the corner of the wall to her right."How is that... I, mean... Uh, Rachel?" My name passes her lips in a breathy hush."Hey, Vic. Long time."To my surprise, the stunned blonde recovers way more quickly than I expect. Again, dealing with conflicting truths and lies as a profession makes a person willing to easily accept whatever reality she deems useful. The woman straightens her back, brushing her expensive silk loungewear flat and regaining her composure."Okay, I guess you put one over on me. Ha ha. Now, if you're looking for me to open old wounds, want some sort of twisted revenge against me, or reminisce about high school, then you can just go to hell. There. Satisfied?"I can't help but smirk. She's always relied upon her better-than-thou bitchiness; it is her main defense mechanism. "There's the Victoria I know! Nice to see you, too. By the way, Max says thanks for getting this all arranged.""So, it worked?""Yup. Max has just been cloned, and no one has any idea it happened. She's free to act, and the rest of you can get on with whatever the next part of the plan is. For all anyone knows, I, meaning Max, has just returned from a successful beer run." I point to the two cases at my feet."Nice. We'll have to catch you up on the op, but right now I really don't want to deal with any more drama today. Follow me and I'll get you settled in."I pick up the two cases and walk behind the woman who leads me through the foyer, stopping momentarily to place the drinks in one of the biggest fridges I've ever seen. Then, she takes me to a guest room, a suite made up of multiple spaces on the second floor down the hallway from the rest of the team's private residences."Your room. Try not to destroy the place or go snooping around. I'm sure everyone will have questions for you in the morning." The woman yawns. "I'm going to get some sleep." Without another word, she turns and walks away, prancing like a supermodel down the runway like she did earlier; it's her way to get the final word in.
Heh heh. Okay, Chase, you got me back. Nicely played.
"Night, to you too, Vic." The robed, receding woman lifts her right hand while she continues down the hallway, flipping it through her hair, then waving but not really caring how I interpret it.After she disappears into one of the other rooms, I turn around and open the double doors to my suite. Obviously, Sloane has made a lot of really solid financial decisions while she was in the service, because the digs are first-class in every way. The entry opens into a small but complete kitchenette and gathering space containing multiple overstuffed couches, matching chairs, and tables set in convenient places with which to place food and drinks. The whole area seems able to switch from comfortable to business-focused with a flick of a switch that will slide video conferencing screens down from the ceiling; they also make for a nice theater if I want to turn on a movie in my spare time. Everywhere I turn suggests the suite is meant for guests who are expected to be around for an extended stay, whether it be for business or pleasure, and I haven't even seen the bedroom, which is across and through another set of double doors. The bar-style countertop separates the two parts of the room. On its surface is a leather-bound binder and a card folded into a tent-like triangle. I lift the card and read the greeting.-==- -==- -==- -==-Welcome to the Funny FarmPlease acquaint yourself with someof the features of your room. Thesecan be found, as well as additionalinformation, within the included binder.We hope you enjoy your stay-==- -==- -==- -==-The only thing that is missing is a butler or concierge. Based on my observations, Sloane doesn't employ one, though the man assigned to be her keeper usually performs the role.>Knock knock<The light tapping on the door makes me jump, not like I feel threatened, but more like one does when you've been just thinking about the specific topic."Hello?" I approach the door, placing my hand lightly on its surface and leaning into it while my other grips the butt of my holstered pistol."Pardon me for the intrusion, ma'am. The Director sends his regards and asks that you connect to COMMS-seven in the morning." The slightly southern drawl doesn't sound familiar which isn't surprising. In my line of work, many of us speak multiple languages and can easily switch between accents."Thank you. I'm going to get some shuteye first. I'll connect around 09:00 Company time.""Of course. Welcome home, Raven. I suspect you'll be having an eventful morning, all things considered, ma'am."Through the thick doors, I hear the man quietly walk away, his footsteps growing softer on the wooden floors. When the sound completely disappears, his final comment makes me start thinking of my past, a literal lifetime ago for me, and of a young blue-haired teen I've known since high school."Chloe..."The girl had gotten caught up in my web of charades like a fly helplessly tangled, awaiting the spider's jaws. That was me that snared her, and I used the situation to my advantage so much so that the teen had fallen for me. I threw it all away, cheated on her, lied, and almost paid double the price with my own forfeit life and hers possibly as well.Only luck, in both our cases, saved us in the end. In her case, a dorky photographer named Max pulled Chloe out of the abyss and placed her back where the despondent teen belonged, by her side. Together, they completed a perfect match that led to their new life and destiny.I sigh.If you want to know, yeah, I'm a little jealous. No, not in the way you think. Sure, Chloe is my ex, at least from her perspective, but the woman is still my friend, hopefully. She's someone that I know will have my back in ways even the resources of The Company can't match; that is, once she gets over the shock of me being alive. Back then, she was in love with me, obviously, and I'd thrown her feelings out the window. Worse, the girl was devastated by my supposed death, having tried so damn hard to find me. The only reason the discovery didn't end up killing her was she had Max's strength to lean on. She's proven just how dedicated a friend she can be, and that's really what I envy the most. It's something I've never pursued myself, and the loneliness is just another consequence of my past actions.And so, I find myself here, years after being buried in a stinking junkyard grave, saved by a federal agent at the last possible moment. Standing there surrounded by trash and discarded refuse, which was appropriately descriptive of myself at the time, the shadowy woman who's name I don't remember took me away from that place and gave me a choice. I never saw her again, and the only evidence of her assistance was a wad of cash, a set of car keys and a business card. When I woke on a motel bed, all I did was stare for an hour at the contact's matte black background and bright blue, faintly glowing numbers.+1 (995) 722-0422The phone number linked me up with a safe house and a chance for a new start.As the recalled scene bleeds away, morphing me back into my new residence, my fingers brush against my pocket, the place where I keep my small wallet. I still have her card, and often take it out only to stare at the glowing numbers. In the dark, I use it to review my choices and think about my life, something I never used to do. It's perhaps the biggest lesson I took from my near-death experience.Moving to the far end and opening the doors to the sleeping quarters, I am overtaken by fatigue. The bed is huge and its comfortable invitation irresistible. I strip down, leaving my clothing in a heap and enter the attached bathroom, turning on the shower full force. While the pounding streams warm up, I examine myself in the slightly foggy mirror, evaluating the woman who reflects back at me.Brunette hair, carefully crafted freckles, and hazel eyes stare at me, each having played part in the deception we pulled off. Slowly, the straight edge of my mouth curves upwards to one side as I recall her surprised expression when Max figured out who I am. I really hope Chloe doesn't beat the crap outta me too much before I can explain. With a little more luck, maybe the shock will help keep her temper in check.Stepping into the glassed-in shower stall, I recoil as needles of intense heat sear my naked body, the water turning dark as the temporary hair coloring flows into the drain. While I can't do anything about the Max-style cut, I realize that this will be the first time in almost a year that my natural blonde will be showing; I vowed, on the ride over, that I was going to be as transparent as possible with my adopted team. Even if the possible questions are tough, I am going to be honest. When I can't take the heat anymore, I twist the knob, reach out into the steam-filled bathroom, grab a towel, and dry off. Conveniently, a fluffy grey robe hangs on a peg next to the door, which will suit me fine; I am tired enough that I don't want to hunt down pajamas to wear. I'll have to fix that tomorrow considering I haven't brought any clothing of my own. The warm garment completes the feel that I am in a five-star hotel.I flop on the huge bed, not even getting under the covers, and immediately fall into a deep sleep...
The Funny Farm
Morning
My eyes open to the glowing light of morning, the sun cresting over the ridge and trees, shining its warmth on the river valley and through the southeast-facing window beside the bed. Obviously, I was exhausted, because even though I dreamt, something that is very rare for me, the time blinked by almost instantly. I distinctly remember the doorway to the bedroom opening, and a figure in shadows leaning in to check on me. They'd said something, a whisper that I barely heard in my unconscious state."Sleep well, Bella."Then the person retreated the way they'd come.It was a short, simple dream, but it reminds me that there is another person here, someone I really want to get to know better. Sloane and I met years ago, twice actually, though the first time we only bumped into each other. I was 16 at the time, and Chloe was home with the flu bad enough that even her stepdad, El Mustachio, actually tried to show how much he cared. Anyway, I was sitting across from the woman, a teen herself at the time, at the diner. She chose to sit on one of the stools along the counter at Two Whales, while I sat in mine and Chloe's customary booth. What the girl was doing in AB at her age I never did figure out; she wasn't a Blackwell student because I used to help out in the office and never saw her name or photo on any application. Since Joyce hadn't gotten around to stock my table due to the crowd, I remember asking the teen to pass me the sugar sitting on the countertop. The deer-in-headlights expression on her face when she turned to face me was adorable."Uhm..."I gently took the container of little packets from her outstretched hand, and when I brushed the tips of her fingers, her frozen body twitched, and my heart skipped a single beat."Slo'...""Hmm?""Sloane..."She still hadn't pulled her arm back, so I grasped it in mine, then shook."Pleased to meet you, Sloane. I'm..."The girl blinked grey eyes at me, both of which started to dilate as I watched. Seemingly without moving her mouth she exhaled a breathy response."Bella..."For a reason I never learned, she shook her head to apparently clear it, then bolted out of the diner. If she'd gone any faster, she might have even shattered the windows.I didn't really think much of it afterwards, and just filed it away. In retrospect, I know it was a missed opportunity. So, that was the first time. The second was much more... memorable, and to this day, the recollection of those events during my last week in Sicily makes me yearn for more. I'd been on assignment gathering intelligence on a rich Russian commodities broker who we suspected used his background as a front for dealing weapons, specifically of the biological kind. Sitting at a small table out in front of an eatery, I'd been slowly sipping on some red wine when Sloane just swooped in and sat down. Immediately I was wary, there were reports of trouble, of the shooting kind, earlier this same evening down at the market square less than a kilometer from where I sat. By the time I recognized her, she downed the remainder of my wine."Heya, Bella, mind if I sit?"I wasn't sure if she recalled me or not, and I think she was already drunk. She set my wineglass down, propped an elbow on the white linen covered table to hold up her head, and in a sideways stare grinned at me with an adorable, goofy smirk the kind that puts even strangers at ease."Please do..."The indulgent woman, not missing a beat, interrupted me by holding out her free hand."Sloane."We shook hands, and a surge of electricity traveled from the first light touch to my entire body. It was like the brief moment in the diner, but multiplied thousands of times over. While initially, it made me a little uncomfortable, it was only because I immediately wanted more of this addictive woman; her mere presence turned my brain to mush."Uhm..." Seriously, it was my turn to stare into the headlights."Pleased to meet cha, Bella." She gestured to the restaurant I was using as cover. "Wanna blow this place and find some fun?""Uhm..."She winked one of her amazing eyes at me. Oh God, that lopsided grin of hers..."Come on, Bella, let's jet!"Immediately afterwards, she giggled, grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the chair. As I tried in vain to keep an eye on the Russian, the brunette in the hula girl-printed shirt and cargo shorts, pulled me down the street and around the corner, stumbling a bit in her slightly inebriated state. I lost sight of the target but found a… let's just say we became friends and more. Honest to God, I don't remember anything about the rest of the whirlwind first evening except for Sloane; everything about the woman exuded confidence, a worldly knowledge of how things worked, and an adorable silliness. What a week!Even to this day, I feel I can spend the rest of my life with her and not regret it for a second.Yawning tremendously, I sit up and adjust the robe I'm wearing to a more modest position. The clock on the side table shows it is just past seven in the morning. It is a pretty typical hour of the day for me; I feel rested and wide awake, though it'll be even better when I find some coffee.Recalling Victoria's previous comment about not snooping around, I decide that surely a trip to the kitchen, the one we passed in on the way up to my room, wouldn't be considered snooping. I open the wardrobe, which is mostly empty, and locate a pair of slippers, almost laughing out loud in the process. Shaped like little fuzzy foxes with their winter coats, the footwear matches the robe perfectly. Heh heh. Someone has a sense of humor in this place.After quietly padding down the hallway and stairwell, the lower floor spreads out in a large open room that includes the main entryway, foyer, living room, and kitchen, with more stairs continuing downward as well. On the far end, a wall of paneled glass doors provides a view outside onto the patio, swimming pool, and the tree line at the far edges of the property. The wooden floor and walkway separate the great room into two parts and leads to another hallway that has, presumably, spaces for operations, logistics, briefings, and whatever else Max's team requires. The Funny Farm is a first-class, luxury hideout and HQ.Walking closer to the kitchen area, I spot a coffee maker on the stone countertop.Let's see, hmmm.I begin rummaging around, looking for the necessary ingredients to brew a pot of coffee, but then observe that the machine is already prepared for this morning. With coffee beans in the grinder bin, water reservoir already filled, all I have to do is press the button, which I do. Immediately, the whirring blades decimate the beans, and the odor of ground coffee wafts around me, the woody, earthy smell promising me it is going to be a good morning. Hopefully the noise won't wake anyone.While the brew perks and bubbles, I flip open cabinets above the device, seeking a cup I can use. Inside, rows of mugs are lined up, each having a logo or insignia of places from across the world. Next to a blue and orange-rimmed coffee cup from Santa Cruz I find my own hometown of Santa Monica, its signature boardwalk shadowed by a pacific sunset. On tippy toes, I stretch an arm out for my obvious choice, but can't quite reach it. I lift one leg, getting a knee on the counter and, while I am occupied, I apparently don't hear another person enter. I feel a warm body slowly press against my back and rear, while gentle hands place themselves lightly on my hips; a soft, husky voice, like she had just gotten out of bed, whispers into my ear."Welcome home, Bella. Need a boost?"
Sloane...
I sigh, but remain otherwise silent, nodding and relaxing my outstretched arms.With a little squeeze, I am lifted the final couple of centimeters."Grab two, would ya' please?"While stabilizing myself with one hand, I use the other to loop my fingers through the handles of two cups: my own from Santa Monica, and another featuring a logo of a maple leaf, a pair of hockey sticks, and a small Canadian flag at the bottom. Once I have a grip on the containers, I am gently lowered to the ground. Since my brain once again starts becoming goo, I flip the cabinet closed with a sharp bang, instead of more quietly. All thoughts of consideration for others' sleep seems to be seeping out through my ears and puddling at my feet. I'm sure I'm going to end up as an even bigger pool too.
Is it getting hot in here?
My heart hammers in my chest as I turn around, the small of my back pressing into the lip of the countertop. A woman from my past fills my view and steps closer to close the gap between us, her hands remaining in their comfortable place along my waist. Sloane hasn't aged a bit over the six years since we met. Her brunette hair is longer than last time, and considering she is retired from the Royal Canadian Navy that makes sense. It is tangled exactly as one would expect in the early morning; her serious case of bed head makes me giggle, even as my breath catches in my throat. Like myself, the muscular former airwoman wears a fluffy robe, also in grey, with matching footwear, though the foxes on Sloane's feet had their red summer coats.The two of us stare into each other's eyes, her grey orbs filling my world, inviting me into their mysterious, fantastic depths. Memories of a vacation home on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean, the smell of espresso as I pushed away the overstuffed down comforter that cloaked my body in warmth, a dent on my side told of the woman I was sharing my time with was gone, and the terrible feeling of emptiness that accompanied my realization. The sun beamed in, making bands of light and dark contrast on the mellow orange stucco walls of the bedroom, the silence of outside through the cracked open window making the peace of the morning embrace me completely.I flopped back down in the bed and sighed, then the memory pulls back until I was staring at the goofy smirking girl once again."Morning, Bella." She kisses my nose with a slight peck that makes my heart skip and my breath hitch."Uhm..." Really, Rach? Come on, you're no longer a doe-in-headlights, right? "Hey. Coffee?""Best idea." She grabs the mug I offer, and disappointment runs through my body as she steps away from me.After both pouring ourselves the morning nectar of the gods, we sit across from each other at the small eating nook that overlooks the patio through bay windows."Soooo...""Soooo..."When we both speak at the same time, I take the opportunity to jumpstart my brain with a sip of coffee. "Heh heh, Sloane, I see you still have a way with words." I then think about the last couple of minutes. "How did you know it was me?"The disheveled, yet beautiful woman shrugged, sips on her own coffee and then lifts her eyes at me over the rim of her cup."There's not a lot of things going on here that I don't know about. I was just hoping you'd finally decide to join us instead of camping out like you've been doing, especially with a fifty-cal. watching our every move. Glad you did, Bella.""So, you knew I was out there?"The woman nods, then takes another sip."Yup. Kinda figured someone was out there given the tracker you placed. That was really slick, by the way, and I almost missed your setup out that-a-way." She points toward the tree line one-hundred meters distant. "The camo netting you used was perfect, even the coloration matched the trees and the season, except where it covered a line of not-so-local ground cover I planted out there. I be a sly foxy fox."I giggle at her remark. "That's hella sneaky, Slo', I'll remember that. And sorry about the gun, it wasn't for you guys, more like an old habit. But why didn't you confront me? I could have been one of those two goons that are currently surveilling you.""Nah. Those idiots have no idea what they're doing, otherwise they wouldn't be sitting on the side of the road like they are. I let them play their games without spooking them.""So, they don't do anything unexpected?"My friend nods. "Yup yup! Just like you. Why do you think I left my bathroom window open?" Sloane puts on that silly lopsided smile of here. "Like what you see?"I sputter a bit into my coffee as the last sip goes down my throat the wrong way. "Wait... what? That's a huge violation of your privacy! I would never..."Her eyes narrow and her grin turns mischievous. "Suuuuuuuure, Bella. You and I both know the truth, don't we?""Welllll..." I try to change the subject. "... It's been a while, hasn't it?""Nice save. It has..." And with that we are both six years younger, reliving that week together. We laugh, pour more coffee, Sloane throws some muffins into the oven to warm, and we reminisce like life-long friends... And more.Apparently, we are too loud and wake a certain blue-haired punk-marine, who has just run into the room wearing only a tank top that reveals the tattoo I remember, and panties. That's it, except for the pistol in her hand; she's always on alert for trouble."What the fuck, Sloane? Do you have any idea what time..." That's when I lean over, coming out from being blocked by Sloane's body and face her. In mid-sentence her jaw drops and her arms flop to her side, the gun clattering on the wooden flooring."Rachel?!!"Chloe's balance gives out and she sits down hard on her ass, bare legs splayed as her stunned gaze fixes on me. It's as if she's seen a ghost."Hey, Chloe."Sloane looks over her shoulder, then back at me. After a moment's hesitation, her eyes widen, and without a sound mouths the words 'You're... Rachel?' while pointing a finger between me and the woman on the floor.I nod, enfolding her hand in my own. "I am, but I like Bella better, Slo'."And now these two ladies know the truth. One of them, an old friend from my past whom I wronged, the other a woman that I hope will be more than friends in my future. I'm sure there's going to be hella hard questions asked that require even harder, but honest, answers soon, with all the tears, anger, and hopefully forgiveness they bring.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
October 2025
The Funny Farm
Morning
Loud noises from outside my room wander around in my dreams. The words stretch out, are magnified, or muted as the unreality of my sleepy mind tries with difficulty to ignore the intrusion. Having been up far later than I expected, posting fake hints of the team’s plans on various sites across the public and private internet, I ended up getting sucked into an online game that distracted me into the early morning. I think I've been asleep for about two hours, though if I'm still dreaming now, time really has no meaning. The scene involving my favorite person begins to pixelate, changing to a retro version that I know is because of that damned game. I don’t want to leave quite yet, even if Max's features are a bunch of polygons like the original Tomb Raider. Fuck, Lara was so hot, but she ain't got a chance with... Oh!... Max Croft-Price, Hella Badass Time Raider! We should totally make a video game about her and some of the missions we've been on. Damn, I like the sound of that! Though, I guess I probably would never get passed the character creation screen. I hope I remember this in the morning.The volume increases. In my current state I can’t tell if it is an argument or something else. Dream Max Croft-Price, the woman who is laying beside me, starts making weird noises like I've hit a glitch in the game's audio track and repeating 'Chloe... Chloe... Chloe...' continuously. Even the pixels can't get enough of my badassitude; hell yeah, Baby! With every distraction coming into my actual ears, her distorted but still so fucking beautiful dream-shape dissolves a bit until there's nothing but a grey haze.“No! Come back, Max!” The asleep part of my mind, I think, makes me physically speak, and the voice coming ominously out of a mouth that doesn’t want to move filters through my ears and mixes with the farm’s other sounds.>BANG!<My eyes snap open at the shock of the sudden sound and the scene I’ve been seeing while sleeping dissolves completely. I turn my head, seeing the clock sitting on the table next to Max’s side. It is still way too goddamned early in my book.Fuck! Come on guys, really? Quarter to eight? Can’t I, y’ know, just for once sleep in?I flop on my back while my head is turned to the side, still gazing across the bed. Gone is the haze and lethargy of dreamland, and I see the space beside me is empty. My heart leaps into my throat as my sleep-reality and real-life start mixing in my mind. The drugs had done the same thing to me, and I get the eerie feeling that I am having a flashback. Where the hell is Max?
Shit! Shit! Shit!
>Loud noises from outside the room<My still waking brain begins to panic. Maybe Max is in trouble? Had there been a break in? We’ve all been under a hell of a lot of stress these past months... since the desert... since Kate got shot. I reach under my pillow and grab the nine-millimeter Glock. Checking the action, I slide a round into the chamber, stand, and cross the room. After a pause, listening again, I open the door. Seeing no one in the hallway, I tiptoe quickly towards the stairwell, keeping my pistol at eye level and close to my body, holding it in both hands. Through the sights, I sweep my view across the portion of the main floor I can see, then move quietly down each stair. With every step I take, more of the main floor becomes visible, until I reach the bottom and see the back of Sloane sitting on the bench seat, talking with another person. It's their loud chatter and laughter that ruined my dreams."What the fuck, Sloane? Do you have any idea what time..."I point the pistol to the ground and take a couple of steps closer. The two seated girls jump visibly as my voice interrupts them, though they stay seated. While I would know Sloane's profile anywhere, it's the other one who leans over and shows her face.Y'know, normally, life is strange, weird, and often unexpected. As a trained soldier, I've come to realize the truth in that statement. On the other hand, there's some hella spooky shit that no life experience can prepare you for. I never in my life expected this, an honest-to-fucking-God specter. As I approach closer, it's like I bump up against an invisible wall that stops me in my tracks.
There's no fucking way! She's... She's... Dead! Max and I both saw it with our own eyes!
Nevertheless, the impossible woman waves at me, a concerned expression on her face, but speaking real, live, and actual words like nothing ever happened.“Rachel?!!”"Hey, Chloe."I drop as my legs give out, landing hard on my butt. The gun I carry makes a small dent in the hard cherrywood floor before bouncing and sliding across the surface, then under the couch. At first, when I woke, it was because of some really loud yelling which startled me, so I rushed out of my room as quickly as possible. After all, we are being hunted, which means being ready to react is necessary. However, not even the Marine Corps prepared me for the woman I see now, haloed like the angel I remember in the morning sunbeams; there is no manual designated 'The Soldiers Handbook: How to Deal with the Newly Undead.'The spectral visage of my departed ex-crush turns toward me, her blonde hair, messy as it is, reflects almost magical sparkles from the bright light. The girl says something, but a rushing, ringing sound fills my ears, like I am suffering from a concussion.Was this a dream? None of it makes any sense; there's no such thing as... ghosts, right? Then fear grips me as repeated thoughts bubble up from the darkest parts of my being. Fuck! Am I still in that camp? Am I one of the Controlled? Is this real? Oh, my fuck, is Maxie okay? Where is she? Am I hallucinating this as a side-effect of the drugs? My mind starts spinning continuously on these ideas, and I can feel my heart start to race. An intense pressure begins to build, causing a spike of pain right between my eyes, like I’ve been shot in the face. The real memory of that day blurs my vision into a dark tunnel."R... R... Rachel?" The name croaks out of my suddenly dry throat, any sign of remaining intelligence is missing. No matter how hard I try, no other words form due the tornado of fears, memories, and emotions filling my mind. My heart seems to stop beating and drawing in air becomes impossible. I can't take my eyes off the apparition and don't even notice Sloane stepping behind to pick me up by my shoulders."Heh heh! Morning, Blue. Ooof, here we go! Come join us, we've apparently got a bunch of catching up to do." The shorter woman drags my limp body to the table and slides a chair under me. "Hang on, I'll get you a coffee."I watch her robed back recede as she moves to the countertop, then I slowly swing my gaze to the impossibility sitting to my right. I can't... can't... can't lift my eyes past her neckline, as if doing so, seeing the woman's face I remember so well, will only discover a worm-eaten skull gazing back.
'Hey, Chloe.'
The ghost's words repeat in my mind. The voice... it's... it's... not possible... But it's hers.A thin hand covers mine and my brain goes 'blah!' as it throws in the towel. With difficulty, I remember the feeling of her hand on mine, her touch when I needed it the most.
It's... Just... Not... Possible... Is it???
With a small clunk, a steaming hot cup of black coffee is set in front of me, and my eyes dip down automatically. The scent surrounds me, filling my nostrils with the smell that is the second best in the world. My mind explodes with images of myself and Max at that moment, reminding me who exactly holds first place. Like always, the thoughts of my wife instantly lend me her incredible reserves of strength when I need it the most, making me realize that if I can pledge my eternal allegiance to my Super-Max and believe in the powers of which she commands, then perhaps maybe my previously expired friend, an angel with hazel eyes who kept me going even in my darkest days, can still be alive. Questions immediately start bubbling to my lips.I worm my hands out from under the long-forgotten warmth, wrapping them around the mug and lifting it to my lips. Purposely focusing on the wispy steam swirling along the drink's dark surface, I slowly sip my coffee, feeling the liquid flow warmly down my throat while the bitter yet amazing flavor invades my nasal passages and tickles my tastebuds.Before long, too quickly actually, I find there is nothing left in the cup; I've run out of ways to procrastinate further. Squeezing my eyes shut, I place the container on the table and force myself to confront the specter in the room. Opening them is like looking into the past, seeing the woman who saved my life while Max wasn't there to do it herself. I'd fallen for her, back then; hitting rock bottom in my miserable life, though in my eyes Rachel was the one who lifted me up. To be honest, while my dedication was, and is, always to my Max, to this day I still desperately miss the beautiful actress, even after I found out she cheated on me with Frank and Jefferson. It doesn't matter anymore, except that she's here right now, today. It's a miracle that I'll probably never understand fully, but I don't care right now."How?" My voice is full of phlegm, croaking out the words like a fucking frog."It's a really long story, Chloe.""But... but, I saw you in the... the... the junkyard..." I swallow a glob in my throat as tears started dripping down my cheeks.Sloane, always having empathy, slides a box of tissues across the table. I pull out two and blow hard. Using a couple more, I wipe my blurry eyes and ball up the soft paper, holding it in my tightened fist."You've been alive this... this whole time? And you never said?"A soft expression, caring yet with a ton of guilt, makes Rachel's brow become a flat line and worry wrinkles form on her forehead. With pursed lips, I can tell I've hit on a topic she regrets."I... Chloe... I couldn't. I wanted to so badly, but it was part of the deal I made. The people that I work for needed me to be dead, completely.""Even to your best friend? Or was that just another acting job for you, like Frank, or... or Jefferson?!" Anger starts welling up inside of me as long-held feelings begin to re-emerge from hibernation. These are questions that have never been answered, and it is fucking hard to hold back my temper."I..."Sloane takes the time to switch seats, nudging Rachel to the end of the bench next to the window and sitting beside her. She gestures for me to take the bench across from the two, making it easier for all of us to confront our demons. I notice that her left, and Rach's right arms are below the table where I can't see them. Are they holding hands? Why does that piss me off even more?"Blue...""Shut up, Sloane. I can see which team you're on!" I swivel to focus on the cringing blonde. "I searched for you! For months! Even when no one cared anymore, not even your parents! You have no idea what I went through! And... and then when we found you... Oh, God! When we found your body...."Her voice quiet, she slowly nods. "I'm sorry. For everything, Chloe. If I could change time, I would. But I can't. Only Max can do that!""You leave her outta this, bitch! You will respect..." I slam my hands on the flat surface with a loud slap and stand up, rocking the table and making coffee slosh and spill over. Memories of step-douche during some of my worst days cloud my vision as I realize how I am behaving, and yet, I can't fight them either. Rachel’s newly living status triggers a thousand fucking bad memories and all of them take me to the day she seemingly left. Years of therapy and discipline gained in the service are replaced by an almost impossible to resist urge to lash out; I'm no longer a badass ex-marine, but a scared, abandoned, hella angry punk.
Everybody lies! They all leave me!
Anger floods through me like the surge before a storm and making it difficult to stay upright. My body shakes like I'm having a seizure, and my vision narrows into a dark tunnel; a filter of blood red covers my eyes. The woman, the person who I am unjustly blaming for every bad and shitty thing that has happened to me, sits unmoving, her unblinking hazel eyes filling with regret. I feel my essence being sucked out of me, spinning around a fucking hole to another universe, like water going down a drain. I am losing it; the years-fought self-control I've worked so hard to build!
'Chloe... you once thought of me this way and look what happened. I came back.... I came back, Chlo', and now Rachel has, too.'
The whisper of my favorite person and better half softly reminds me of discussions we had years ago, before I went into the service. It was a time where both of us struggled to find meaning in the events that took place: the Storm, the Dark Room, Max’s power, and how and why she left me, ghosted me, and...
... how much I desperately missed Rachel.
Together we stayed afloat in a sea of grief, buoying ourselves with each other's individual strengths and being thankful for the fact that we were still alive. I recall that we talked at length about how Rachel had effectively saved me from my own self-destructive actions back then, keeping me alive long enough to pass the baton to Max in the relay race of a lonely punk's life.The demons that had so abruptly possessed my soul blink out like a snuffed candle flame, only wispy memories, like the lingering trails of smoke, remain. The room brightens as I breathe once more, and a single drop of water rolls down my cheek.Drip. The tear lands next to my hand.“You’re...”Drip. Drip. Others join to make a small puddle on the table.“... alive.”That word... As I say it, every emotion and feeling comes to the surface. For years, I wished this day would come true, even if just so Max could meet Rachel just for a brief moment. They’d be hella best friends. I slouch back onto the bench and can’t hold it in any longer... Yeah, go ahead and fucking sue me, even soldiers cry. Get over it.I bawl like I did when Dad died, regretting every unsaid word, wishing to any power that would listen to bring him back. Like then, I did the same for Rach, this time with my newly returned best friend, instead of in the dark jail of my own rebellious solitude. Like I said before, there isn't a training manual for how to act when one is confronted by the shade of a long-dead friend; nothing in the world can prepare you for it.
Life is soooo fucking strange.
It feels like I cry for hours, losing my breath, croaking out hoarse words like ‘How?’ and ‘Alive?’ over and over, but I eventually have no more strength, planting my face down on the soaked tabletop with my arms surrounding me so I can't get a peek of the woman I missed so dearly.I feel a vibration as the two women slide out from their bench, sharing hushed whispers between them. As I listen to padded slippers walking off, the other sits beside me, pressing into my side from the hip to the shoulder. A warm arm encircles me, laying lightly but warmly around my back.“Chloe, I'm sorry this had to be such a surprise. And... before you say it... yeah, I've had a fucking long time to think about what I've done. I didn't see in you what you saw in me because I was too blind and wrapped up in myself. I know that now. For what it's worth, I was wrong, Chlobear, so very, very wrong.”"Chlobear?""Yeah. Max said I should call you that if I needed to; maybe it's her way helping me seem genuine, of trusting me. She says 'hey' by the way. And damn, Chloe, Max is a real cutie, even more than you ever said! I'm happy you guys got back together."My heart finds a soft spot to land amongst the otherwise stone-cold hardness of my emotions. Peeking from under my arm, I gaze up at her face. I've come a long way myself, mostly because of Max, and the spitefulness I hold for my ex-companion is less prominent than it used to be. Her coming back from the dead, though, is a completely unexpected shock.Weakly, since my throat was dry, I tried to sum up how I felt.“I... missed you so much, Rach. It took years to get over the pain, y’ know? It hurt so fucking bad.”“Yeah.”I extract myself, leaning back, but still slouching over, occasionally glancing at the blonde. I move to the far end of the bench, propping myself up so I can get some distance and a better look at her. Familiar angles, that smooth jawline, dazzling hazel eyes, and a patient smile, they are all pieces of the girl I know from years before and prominent still, even if they are but lightly muted with time. There is no doubt I am looking at the one and only Rachel Dawn Amber who's come back from the abyss and sitting next to me.“You want some more coffee?” She points at my empty cup, one with a logo I haven't seen in a long time either; the graphic of a cliffside lighthouse beaming out into the starry sky of the pacific. I nod my head and watch her pour us both another cup.We spend the rest of the morning catching up, each of us asking questions and answering honestly. We don’t hold back either; we take turns with the tissues, making a rather large pile on the floor. As the hours pass, the rest of the awakening team wanders in, only for Sloane to redirect them away from the table to the patio’s outdoor kitchen to give us as much privacy as possible.Eventually, the smell of bacon wafting in from the open doors reminds us that we should probably grab chow too.“You wanna get something to eat, Rach?”
God it feels good to say that name again.
A growling from my friend’s stomach replies, and she nods vigorously. “Guess that answers your question.” She giggles just exactly how I remember."How is it you haven't changed a bit, Rach?""Dunno, Chloe, but I gotta say, you're looking hella ripped yourself.""Thanks." I point to the USMC tattoo on my arm. "Kinda comes with the territory and the shit we do now. Come on, before the vultures steal all the bacon."With that, we both slide out of the booth seats and head towards the group, following the scent of frying meat.“It’s nice to have you back.” I nudge the shorter woman with my shoulder, like she is an old friend instead of a specter from my past. “Does Vicky know?”“Yeah, she does.” The woman pauses for a moment while we step outside. "So does Max, like I said earlier. Don't worry, we got her on her way totally incognito, so that part of your plan is done. She's safe and will contact us from The Bay.""Right. I guess that means we're moving to the next phase. Gonna have to get you up to speed, yeah?""I'm here as long as I'm welcome, maybe even permanently if you know what I mean."I see her eyes pivot towards the woman sitting at the end of the table."You and Slo', huh? When did that happen?""We met in Europe years ago. I guess we'll have to see how things go, y'know?"I nod as we join the rest of the team, her and I sitting across from each other, so Rachel can face me.After taking a bite of bacon, she clears her throat to get everyone's attention, stands, then starts explaining."So... You all know the plan. and Max and I put phase one into operation last night. However, before I get into it, I'll start by way of introductions. I'm Raven, my codename; I work as a free agent for the CIA. However, many of you know me as another person from way back in our Blackwell days." She pauses, eyeing me then Victoria, noticing how Warren and Kate suddenly become even more interested; both of them probably saw the missing person posters I put up back then. With a little smile and wave of her hand, she continues. "Hi. My name is Rachel Amber. Officially I'm hella dead, though as you can see, the rumors have been greatly exaggerated. Others of you..." She winks at Sloane who is at the end of the table and frozen in place with a piece of bacon hanging out of her mouth. "... Others of you might know me by a different name."The bacon drops to Sloane's plate as she quietly whispers the nickname she's given Rachel. "Bella."The blonde, very much alive woman, sweeps her hand and bows like the actress she is, then blows a kiss in the Chief's direction. I swear to God, Sloane almost tips over backwards."As for the rest of you," nodding to Katie and Warren, I'm very pleased to make your acquaintances. I'm sure we're gonna be hella good friends!"Rachel sits down, allowing everyone to ask questions throughout the rest of breakfast. There's a lot of them, so I simply remain quiet, reflecting on the morning's surprising events, and listening as I sip my coffee. Max had been right all those years ago, and it now feels like a burden is lifted from my shoulders. I can finally put aside the hellish part of my earlier life and re-open the special place in my heart where I saved all the fond memories of my old friend. A smile forms on my face as I gaze across the table at my old friend who is, in true fashion, the social butterfly I remember, excitedly getting to know everyone all over again. I lift my coffee cup, tipping it towards her in a quiet salute.
Welcome home, Rach...
A plate of bacon and pancakes slides in front of me. When I turn, my thoughts momentarily interrupted, Sloane smiles then places a hand on my shoulder."You okay, Blue? Haven't eaten much..."I nod."Yeah. I'm... I'm good, Chief. Sorry for biting your head off earlier."The woman slides a reversed chair next to mine, then straddles it, leaning on its back with her forearms."No worries, Chloe. I can't imagine how I'd feel to see an actual ghost. I think you handled it about as good as anyone, really. Now come on, eat up, then let's figure out how to integrate our new team member. We've got work to do, and the clock is ticking.""Point taken. Thanks, Slo'."I put out my fist, and the team's pilot and medic bumps it with hers in return. It's time to get the second phase going...
October 2025
Yakima, Washington USA
Earlier that same morning
Don’t forget, Max.
Maaaaax...
Taaaake...
The...
SHOT!
<Thump!>“Ow! Fuck!”I struggle as my brain reboots, the feeling that something is pressing against me is vivid in my sleep-soaked mind. I am in some sort of box, or enclosed and uneven space; can’t even move my arms much. The feeling of being trapped starts crawling up my spine in tingles and a cold sweat pops out on my forehead.Where the hell am I? That is my first question, but it is quickly put aside as I remember the face of the man who tortured and kidnapped me and others. His words ring in my head, repeating over and over like an echo that never fades.
Take the shot!
Take the shot!
Take the shot!
Eventually the noise in my head fades awat as I lay there curled up in a ball, well as much as I can in the tight confines of... of... wherever I am. I stay still and quiet, listening for signs of danger, but only hearing a light breeze from outside my prison. I take a chance, open my eyes, and am met with a featureless black wall covered in some sort of tight-knit fabric just inches from my face. The feeling of pins and needles surge around my hips and male me aware of a large object pressing upward; I am laying sideways on top of it, and the angle is cutting off my circulation. I turn my head, still unsure about how much room I have to work with, and in the dim glow of the morning light, the shadowy contours of the truck’s dashboard block my view.Oh! The truck! Now everything starts making sense.Okay, you all can call me stupid if you want; I’m pretty much doing that right now, anyway. Obviously, the dream I has caused me to roll off the bench seat and into the footwell. Honestly, I haven’t dreamt about Jefferson for years, but since knowing he’s still around, it makes my mind reel with uncertainty like I did back during my Blackwell days. Hell, my heart is still jackhammering in my chest as the anxiety from my returned past feeds adrenaline into my bloodstream.
No fucking way! I will not let him beat me!
As I extract myself from the awkward position, I repeat the statement, a promise I made to myself and the love of my life, during Chloe and my recovery from those events. After repositioning myself behind the driver’s wheel, I reach into the pack beside me and remove Chloe’s old beanie; I keep it with me always, it's a reminder of the things we went through. Its smell, the scent of my wife, always comforts me, so I breathe in her essence. Immediately, a soothing warmth flows down through my body, like a warm blanket of love and caring.I open the door and step out of the vehicle onto the dusty gravel road I parked on. Yawning, I wipe my eyes, and run a hand through my hair.“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!” Heh heh, Joyce’s words will never get old. Gosh, I miss her.Needing to get my blood pumping in the cool desert air, I raise my arms above my head and stretch my full length to the sound of loud pops in my shoulders, back, and knees. I wave my arms in front of me, then do about a hundred jumping jacks as the sun peeks over the butte. When I am fully awake, I slide the comfortable beanie on my head and jump back into the truck.I’ve driven all night, passing back into the states at the small border crossing in Osoyoos. The single sleepy border officer took the fake NEXUS pass I offered and run it through his machine, only glancing at me once to verify the picture matched. The fact that the card had all my real information, name, date of birth, and all that, made answering any possible questions quite easy. Rachel did a thorough job, as the information pointed to another actual person named Maxine Price, who lived in Oroville, a couple of kilometers south of the border. The whole plan is for me to hide in plain sight.I peek through the windshield to see the sun, now a couple of degrees passed the mountainous horizon’s edge, giving the arid desert a red tinge. I am parked on a farmer’s dirt road that runs between rows and rows of twisted stands of grapes; this is Washington Wine Country and where some of the best vintages’ fruits are grown. No one will even notice the vehicle in this place as there are literally thousands of exact duplicates to support the agricultural area.Time to get going.I have another four-plus hour drive to reach the bay, wanting to come up from the south via Tillamook; I suspect anyone watching for me will think we'll come directly from the north. Because of the insane number of people we found on Jefferson’s lists, we have to assume anyone can be conditioned to at least keep a lookout for us. But that’s why we planted the information we did; we want them to think they know where we are going and what we are doing.But now, I'm separated from the team, and no one knows. We’ve hidden in the shadows for too long and it is time to take the fight to Jefferson. With the enemy looking east, watching the rest of the team, I've accomplished the first part of my plan and can act without anyone ever knowing it. In a couple of hours, Rachel will be explaining things to the others that we're operational, and my only regret is that I can't see Chloe's reaction when Rachel reveals herself. It was a shock to me; I can only imagine how difficult it is for my wife.For me, though... I've become a shadow in the darkness, unknown, and unseen. And our enemies have no idea...
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
November 2025
Chicago
I pull the van into a parking spot on the second level below the building. The express elevator, two rows away, is designed to take passengers up the private lift and all the way to the top three floors where Prescott's human resources affiliate is located. Behind me, Kate and Victoria sit back-to-back along their stations which extend most of the distance to the rear doors. Together in wheeled chairs, they can scoot along the benches and monitor communications, live video, and data streams of our target using the taps they put in place a couple of days ago. The two of them are the advanced team, having left The Farm seventy-two hours ago to get all this prepared. Exactly as planned, five days after the big switcheroo, I got a shortly worded text from the real Max: ‘Silver is ashore.’ She’d arrived safely in The Bay, and while none of us knew exactly where she decided to hole up, it was the signal we were waiting for. Me, Rach dressed as Max, and Sloane boarded an economy flight to Chicago using our real names and identities. Warren will be handling all the drone ops from back home, as usual.I set the boxy vehicle's emergency brake, then pass through the open slider that can be used to separate the cabin from the cargo and work area. Removing a black leather briefcase from the cabinet on my right, I pause to admire how both women expertly work through their individual checklists. Moving to the taller of the two, I place a hand on the back of her chair."How we lookin', Vic?""We're up and running, Price."I nod to Victoria, stepping back and turning around. Kate puts a headset on, adjusting the fit and microphone's position. "COM check, people. Chloe?"I press the little earbud with my finger and respond. "Gotcha', Katie.""Warren"'Online, telemetry is good. Victoria, have Chloe pan around a bit when she puts on the glasses.'"Victoria."
'Hear you, Kate. Warren, I'll make sure of it.'
"Sloane?"
'Loud and clear, Katie Kat!'
"Max?"
'Ten-by-ten, Kate.'
The last voice we all know isn't really my wife's, and I smile in satisfaction at how accurate Rach can make it sound. Rachel is really fucking good at her job, handling almost every single detail down to wearing Max's borrowed wedding ring; I hadn't thought of it until the woman brought it up, and realizing Max had taken the plain gold band she uses when in the field suggested her implicit permission; I can see now why she wanted to be an actor. Before turning on my own hidden mic to automatic, I lean closer to our logistics expert."You sure they can intercept this if they try?"Kate cups her hand over her boom mic, then nods."Yup. If Prescott's security people want to listen in, they'll have no problems breaking the encryption. Warren built it to be just difficult enough, so they don't get suspicious.""Awesomesauce, just the way we want it." Straightening up, I grab the handle of my briefcase, and step to the double doors at the back. Casually, I turn around, presenting myself to the two women. "How do I look?"Victoria slides her chair closer, stands, and brushes some lint off my reversable sport jacket, then adjusts my tie. After primping my combed-over temporarily brown hair, she settles a pair of fake wireframes on my nose; it's a special pair with an embedded micro-cam in the bridge. My teammate steps backwards, inspects my overall appearance, and uses her index finger as a reference while I pivot my head around the interior of the van. "You look like a fucking nerd, Price. Remember, you're here to interview for the Director of Infrastructure position, just like you rehearsed; I'll feed you responses as necessary."I pull at the bottom of my jacket once more, tap my little earbud to go hands-free, then grin. "Remember dudes, we want them to see us and believe Max is here. That's our primary objective; bonus if Warren can dump as much info from their servers as he can. So, when the shooting starts don't hold back, it needs to be hella maximum breakage that it makes Prescott shit his pants. You know what to do, yeah?" When I receive a round of agreement, I turn back to the door and pull the handle down. "Come on, bitches, let's get some!"Vic pulls the door closed behind me, and I walk around to both sides of the vehicle and pull off the plain white vinyl wrap, exposing the Channel 7 News logo. I chuckle to myself wondering which one of those two, Kate or Vick, came up with the idea to borrow the van. After discarding the covering in a convenient dumpster, I casually make my way toward, then enter, the elevator that will take me to the building's lobby. After a short ride, the doors separate and open to a large reception area with a desk facing the main entrance from across the marbled floor, and carious sculptures, art, and clusters of small couches furnish the space. It's mid-morning, so there's only a few people present, going about their daily work routines or getting coffee at the small shop at the far end. Approaching the desk, the man behind it nods to me."Good morning, Miss. Can I help you?""Yes, thank you." I reply. "I have an appointment with Venturi at 10:30.""Of course. Please use the far elevator and have your ID badge available." The man points to a bank of elevators, one of which is separated from the three others.I nod a thanks to the dude, then make my way to the indicated lift. Swiveling, the camera pickups focus on me as I approach. I press the red button and wait for the response from the security folks."Yes?""Elaine Simmons. I have an appointment." I insert the official visitor's pass into a slot that lights up. Their HR department overnighted it to me yesterday by way of our rented flat east of here. I follow the instructions included with the badge and wait patiently while the camera pivoted up and down the length of my body. When the reader spits the plastic card out, I retrieve it and hook it to the tether around my neck."Thank you, Miss Simmons. Please enter the elevator. While we regret the inconvenience, please expect your belongings to be searched. You'll then be met by one of our representatives."Nodding at the camera, I step past the now open door, and turn to face back towards the garage. Knowing I'm probably still being recorded, I make no unusual moves. I set my briefcase by my feet, tug at the knot of my tie, and brush a wrinkle out of my jacket's left sleeve, as is typical of job candidate. I don't go too overboard since I'm supposed to be an experienced infrastructure administrator, so I glance at the Rolex on my wrist and feign a small amount of impatience. As the indicator passes the sixtieth floor, I reach down towards my attaché, dropping the tiny spherical bug onto the short tweed flooring. As I lift the case, I shift my foot, rolling the transparent little marble into the corner nearest the door. Scratching an itch just above my ear, I toggle the mic button twice to let Warren, who's back at The Funny Farm, know the little drone is in place.I hear the man's voice in my ear.
'Signal is green, Chloe. Good to go.'
Shifting my weight between my two feet, I wait as the elevator slows and watch as the doors part. In front of me is a short marble floored corridor with a heavy door at the far end. A glass window on the right, one that is probably bulletproof, has two dudes behind it, and watching my every move. There's a slot under the window with an extended tray that could fit my case, and in fact when I approach, one of the security goons speaks into his microphone."Please place your briefcase into the drawer, Miss Simmons. We regret the search is necessary, but recent acts by our competitors forces our company to take these measures. It is your right to decline but should you do so your interview will be canceled, and we'll then ask you to leave. Do you understand?I nod.Oh, I understand alright, in fact, I want them to take my case.Placing my case in the tray, my eye catches Warren's little drone rolling along the edge of the floor. The thing is almost invisible and scoots itself to the secured door while the tray and my briefcase retracts into the wall. The other security officer retrieves it and starts rummaging through the papers and other contents, all of which are completely legit. After he's done, he nods to his partner."Nothing here. She's good."The dude presses a button I can't see, and the locked security door starts buzzing. With a wave of his hand, I continue through the doorway, and am met by the bulky man who's holding my case in one hand, and a metal detector in the other."Please turn around and extend your arms, ma'am." The big officer's tone is very polite and professional. It almost makes me sad about what I may have to do to him; he's just doing his job after all. Hopefully it won't come to that.I do as he requests, then the security dude runs the wand along my body and both arms. At first, the device elicits a few quiet beeps, but then begins to squeal like a pig as it is waved over my left wrist; sounds kinda like Vicky does when she breaks a nail.
'Watch it, Price!'
Oops? Did I say that out loud? Heh heh. Don't worry, Vic, I've got tons more where that came from.
The man reaches for the sleeve of my jacket and pulls it back to uncover a wristwatch I'm wearing. After passing the wand up my front, then down my back he switches off the metal detector."Thank you for your patience and cooperation, Miss Simmons. You're clear to go. Please wait in the lobby, and a representative will be with you shortly. After directing me to where I should go, he hands me my briefcase and walks back to his station. Walking to the reception area, I find a comfortable chair facing a glass wall that's two stories tall and await my interviewer.Opening my briefcase, I tilt my head downward so the cameras on either side don't see my lips move. In a hushed tone I give a brief status report. "Okay team, I'm in. No problemo. Any chatter from these guys yet?"Kate's voice comes over my earpiece. 'Nothing much. There was a comment from someone named Atkin about a carrier frequency, so there are definitely people monitoring the airwaves.'Vic chimes in. 'I've got that covered, Kari. They'll think it's some kind of test.'
Kari? Wow, nicely played, Icky Vicky! Hella got under her skin, I bet. Heh heh.
"Awesomesauce, just like we want. Okay, Warren, you roll your little dude over to the server room while I do my little song and dance. Let me know if anything changes." I extend my arm and look at my Rolex, once again playing the part of a slightly impatient professional, and let my eyes follow the tiny ball; I'm only even able to spot it due to the UV reactive coating on my glasses. Unaided, the transparent ball automatically takes on the coloration of its surroundings, albeit with some distortion. It's the next best thing to being invisible, and its small size makes it easy for our science-geek to hide if needed. The unit passes through the gap between the thick glass panel and the wall, then zips around the corner unseen.
<Ring>
<Ring>
Guard: Security, this is Michaels.
Voice: Michaels, this is Atkin in monitoring. Have you noticed anything out of the usual?
Michaels: Nope, nothing. Got a couple of folks coming in for interviews today. One of them is here right now.
Atkin: I see. And they're clean?
Michaels: As far as we can tell. Brent checked her out and cleared her. Why?
Atkin: Monitoring has picked up a signal on a different band. Are your guys running scenarios again?
Michaels: Hold on and I'll check. You sure it's not a glitch?
Atkin: No glitch from our end, but we can't pinpoint where's it's coming from either.
Michaels: Says here on the schedule that Oswald's checking out some new protocols with the reaction team. Huh. That's weird, the entry was only added an hour ago.
Atkin: Damn it! I really wish you people would let us know with more advanced notice. Does it give any details? It's skewing the telemetry for the rest of our traffic.
Michaels: Nope, sorry. It's over my head, but I'll give them the feedback. Keep an eye on it, and I'll see if I can get them on the line.
Atkin: Thanks. We'll see what we can do from here.
<Click>
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Miss Simmons." The woman in blue slacks, white shirt, and unbuttoned matching jacket holds out her hand as I close my briefcase, and stand. Grasping it in my own, I squeeze with measured strength to be professional; this contrasts to her mostly limp wrist which seems very phony. I bet the old Vicky and her would get along just fine.The woman with the dark, extremely curly hair continues, while leading me through the glass doors and into the main atrium."My name is Martha Evens, and I'll be leading you through today's interview loop." She gestures to the open space that expands upwards three stories. "This is where most of the interviews will take place once we're done with some necessary paperwork beforehand. For the most part, we try to keep meetings like this casual and relaxed." She points to a hallway. "Over there you'll find the restrooms should you need the facilities," then swings her arm to indicate the counter on the far side. I continue to follow her as she steps past couches and chairs, some of them occupied by other employees going about their day. All the furnishings are very nicely appointed in various shades. Each sitting cluster seemingly has space to set a laptop upon and perhaps a beverage or a snack."Would you like some coffee before we begin? My treat as a sort of icebreaker before we get started."Over my earpiece, I hear Victoria's voice.
'Price, I recommend you do not eat or drink anything. You've seen what the drugs can do, so have I. All they need is to re-introduce that shit into you.'
She has a point. Both me and Vic know exactly what it's like, and there's no fucking way I'm going to let that happen. So, I shake my head at the woman."No thank you, I'm fine. Had too much caffeine already today."I watch as the woman's lips momentarily becomes a thin line, matching the pair of almost pencil-like flat eyebrows. In an instant, Martha's expression resumes its more welcoming facade."I see. Well, in that case, please follow me to my office where I'll need you to sign a few legal documents and an NDA."I walk behind the woman, tapping my earpiece three times; to anyone watching, it'll look like I'm checking that my hair is in place. When we reach another set of glass doors, there's a card reader she waves her badge across. She turns to me.In my right ear, I hear three clicks in response. Sloane and Max are beginning the next phase."You'll need an escort anywhere past this doorway, and your ID will not work to open the door from out here. Otherwise, you're free to browse around the atrium. As I said before, should you get hungry, the coffee shop switches to lunch in about thirty minutes. There are kiosks should you need to access the outside internet, and Venturi has many works of art on display by our parent company.""That's Prescott Industries, correct?"The woman smiles over shoulder as we continue along corridor. "Yes, that's right. I see you've done your homework, something that Mr. Prescott appreciates in all his employees."After passing numerous closed doors that are evenly spaced along the hallway, we reach an open office, and the woman stands aside and gesture for me to enter."And here we are. Please have a seat and we can get started."I do so, sitting with my back straight in the utilitarian chair, watching my host seat herself, type some things on her keyboard, then push a stack of papers to my side of the desk. Clicking a ballpoint pen, the woman sets it on the pile of forms."Now, the first page is essential. This describes the non-disclosure terms that you must adhere to while..."I roll my eyes slightly as the HR representative drones on about everything I'm not allowed to speak of, communicate, or otherwise share and how, should I do so, the consequences would be severe considering their army of lawyers at their disposal. I think I even heard something about me having to give away my first-born as well as my left arm."This agreement," she goes on, "is for an indefinite term from this day forth and may be adjusted at any time without notice. Please sign here."
Ugh! Sounds exactly like how that slimy asshole, Prescott, works to cover his ass. Good thing my signature means nothing.
I write my assumed name in the space she's indicating. She shuffles it away to a folder on her right, then starts in on the next."This one concerns any property, patents, works, or watercooler chatter you overhear during your time with us. Again, you agree to severe penalties both monetarily and..."I tune the woman out and exhale a small sigh while scanning over the document.Vic's voice comes over the com. "I'll walk you through these, Price. Keep reading. I know there's a lot of jargon, enough to put even the most corrupt politician to sleep, but I think I know which firm wrote these up. It may be useful."
Only twenty more to go...
I turn the wheel of the big red and white rig heading off Randolf Road and into the semicircular driveway of the Anderson building. Behind me is Lake Michigan and a long pier that juts into the water, protecting a vast marina. It makes me wonder how convenient it is for us that Prescott chose this particular place for his satellite office. Heh heh. Part of me wants to be inside with Chloe and Bella. No lies, I love makin' things go boom, but I'm the getaway babe this time around. Hope those two enjoy the sights on the way down.Hitting the brakes, I roll the three-quarter length rig up to the main entrance. With a hiss, the whole thing settles on its air suspension. After putting a stick of gum in my mouth, I leave the engine idling and swing open the door, making sure to bring the folding delivery pad, then hop down to the ground. Glancing around, while making my way to the rear of the trailer, I gotta admit this is a nice place; the water feature and art in the center of the arced drive adds an elegant, yet professional, feel to the high-end property. I'm sure the businesses that lease out of here are at least as successful as Prescott's. We've planned to make sure none of the other legitimate companies take too much collateral damage, though knowing Blue the term ‘too much’ is a suggestion at best. Like I said earlier, kinda jealous right now.I chuckle again as I round the back of the rig, slapping my hand twice before passing and heading up the granite stairs. A rotating door in the middle of the entrance slowly spins, so I take a few laps in it before approaching the lobby's security and reception desk. I blow a bubble, then snap it with my teeth."Can I help you, ma'am?" The dude in the dark jacket behind the counter eyes me as I get near. Folding open my metal clipboard, I retrieve a perfectly legit delivery form."Yah! I gots a delivery for Venturi Human Resources. Dah peeps at the depot sayz it's urgent, but whadda I know, y'know? I jus go where ahm toldz." I present the form that Katie put together.""I gotta check this out. Wait here a sec."I smile, knowing that he's going to check with upstairs. "No problem, Mac. I gets paid by dah hour. Take yur time." I catch a glance at a holster inside the man's unbuttoned blazer. Heh heh, no surprise there. He buzzes himself into a room to the side. Idly, I wander around the lobby, glancing at some of the pieces of art they have decorating the place. One of them, a kinetic metal work, swings a dozen shiny brass set of arms horizontally back and forth like pendulums, all of them carefully in time with the other. I grin because I really want to poke at it, so I reach across the velvet rope, look both ways, and then lightly tap the closest with my index finger. The change in motion of one of the arms transmits through the others and their periodic behavior becomes slightly erratic at first, then completely chaotic a few moments later. The entire piece starts vibrating wildly.
Oops.
I turn around, place my hands and clipboard behind my back, and casually walk across the marble floor to the desk I left, pretending to not notice the clank of metal from the out-of-control sculpture. Eventually the man exits the security room, and hands me the delivery form and a plastic pass."Take it around to the back of the building to dock number two. We'll have someone meet you there.""No prob, Mac."I walk out of the lobby, patting the back of the trailer on my way around to the cab. Slamming the door, I tap the little bud in my ear."You heard, Bella?"'Yeah, Slo'. I'm all set; I'm just a stack of cash. Where did we get it, by the way?'"Weeeeeell, I think Vic can answer that question, can't cha?"Victoria comes over the air. 'Yeah, about that. Seems a certain senator I, ahem, am acquainted with was in the process of transferring a large sum of money to Prescott. The crook got it from a pair of Russians and was acting as a middleman. I just redirected it here, and both the senator and Prescott each think the other agreed to the location, which is why everyone is expecting it.'I listened quietly to the two women; I've already heard the story. I can't help but giggle the entire time.
'Sooooo... this is what three-hundred-and-thirty million dollars looks like.'
'Not exactly. We had to make space for you, after all. So, it's what ten-million dollars looks like. By the way, it just so happens that the balance matches your body weight.'
'Vic, did you just call me fat?'
'I don't know what you're talking about. We just had to move a few more bundles out of the crate than we anticipated.... OW! What the hell, Kate?! Okay, fine, I'm sorry!'
There's a pause in the conversation. Obviously, Bella and Vic have a past that I'm not aware of. From what I can figure, it goes all the way back to their teen years, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to know more. Right now, though, Katie seems to be keeping Vic on the path of, if not righteousness, at least she's under control. I make a mental note to talk with My Bella later.
'So, what happened to the rest? That's just shy of a third-of-a-billion dollars.'
'After what Kate considered a 'proper' service fee, she convinced me that it would be better to abide by the agreement Max made with The President, so the rest went to the US Treasury.'
Over the earpiece, I can hear Bella start speaking, then stop and reconsider. A couple of breaths later, she continues.
'Uhm, how much are we talking?'
'Thirty percent.'
'Of three-hundred-some-odd million dollars? That's like ninety-million dollars!'
'With change. It's all been moved to our Cayman Island accounts.'
After a pause, Bella aka Rachel aka Max switches her tone.
'Alright then, ladies. I am, meaning this crate, officially worth a hella shit-ton of cash. Let's go!'
I get back on the radio. "Heading to the loading bay now, Bella. Enjoy the ride."Putting the rig in gear, I start moving slowly around the curve of the driveway. When I see the alleyway that leads around the back of the city block, I make a twelve-point turn and navigate the much narrower road between two skyscrapers. When I see the four-bay loading dock fan out on my right, I pass it, and reverse into the dock with its door open. When I feel the trailer hit the rubber bumps, I stand on the brakes and turn off the engine. Hopping out of the cab, I walk the length of the loading ramp, and meet a woman wearing a hardhat."This the delivery?" She says."Yeah. Gots to make sure it gets to..." While I know exactly where the package needs to go, I dip my eyes to the delivery form. "... Goes to sum place called Venturi. Sayz here I gots to getta signature from someone named Evans."The woman in the reflective vest nods then points me to a cargo elevator. "Wheel it in there and I'll punch you to the right floor.""Will do. Thanks."I pull the dual-locking lever and roll the trailer's door up. Stepping in, I undog a hydraulic pallet lift from the side of the trailer's interior and position it under a large crate that has both 'fragile' and 'volatile' markings embossed in its panels.
Heh heh.
With my open COM I don't hesitate to tease the woman inside."Your box is marked 'fragile,' Bella. Oh! And 'volatile,' too! Is there something I need to know?"
'If we ever have a moment together, Slo', I'll show you exactly how 'fragile and volatile' I am. It'll make Sicily seem like a walk on the beach.'
"Hmmm, I don't recall a lot of walking, Bella."
'Think it through, Slo'.'
"Ohhhh."Giggling into my mic, I raise the pallet and tug on the lever to activate the electric assist motor. I drag the cargo across the receiving dock's concrete floor and into the already open lift. Once inside, the woman I met moments before pulls the steel mesh cage closed and inserts a cardkey into a slot."This'll take you to the top. I'll call ahead and let them know you're coming." She presses a red button, and the elevator begins its accent.When I'm in between floors, I key my microphone. "On my way up, Blue."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
November 2025
Chicago
"And this final form is your acknowledgement that you have read, understood, and will abide by the rules as outlined in the Employee Handbook, even should a position not be offered."I run my eyes across the page, then lift them to Martha. "Uhm, excuse me, but I haven't been given the handbook.""There's a link at the bottom of the form, and you are expected to get caught up on your own time. It's company policy. Also, if you choose, you may request a paper copy, but Venturi prides itself on its commitment to reducing waste, so you'll have to pay for it and the carbon credits beforehand. The cost is fifteen-hundred dollars.""Didn't I just work through a mile high stack of papers?""Yes, Miss Simmons, you did, and for legal reasons; again, it's just company policy. Installments for the cost will be deducted from your paychecks should you be hired. If not, you will be expected to compensate Venturi before you leave the premises. The reception desk in the atrium has a payment kiosk for your convenience, and you'll need to show the receipt to security."
What a cheap-ass, Prescott! How the fuck do people work for this shithead? You know the answer to that one, Chloe. It's because they have no idea it's happening.
As I stare at the document, the pen hovering over the line where I'm supposed to sign, Sloane's voice comes over the COM.
'On my way up, Blue.'
Things are about to get interesting, so I sign my Simmons signature and pass the form back to Miss Evans."Good. We're all done here." The woman looks at her computer, then types in a number of things, glancing back at me from time to time. She stands and motions for me to follow. "Your first interview is in about fifteen minutes. Henry Chan is the acting director, and he'll take you through the rest of the process including a tour of our facility. You can wait for him in the atrium. Our usual interviews last a couple of hours each, so it might be to your advantage to grab a bite before it begins."The computer at her desk starts softly chiming, so Martha dons a headset, then presses a key. I lean back, stretch my arms, and brush my right earlobe, increasing the gain so I can hear the entire conversation."Hello, this is Evans."
'Good morning, Martha. This is Janice down in receiving. We have a parcel heading up to you that needs your signature.'
"Hmmm, I don't recall a package. Did you catch where it's coming from?"
'Yeah, I did; it's from HQ in Oregon. It's marked both fragile and volatile, so we both know what's inside.'
"Oh, I see. Alright, I'll take it from here. Thanks for the heads-up, Jan'."
'No problem.'
"It seems, Miss Simmons, I have an important delivery. Since we can't have you unescorted, would you mind accompanying me to the mail room? I might as well show you around anyway. Henry will just have to wait.""Not at all." Acting as if my time is valuable, behavior common in many upper management-types, I look at my wristwatch, then scowl slightly. "This isn't going to take long, is it? I have an appointment at three o'clock.""No worries, Miss Simmons. Henry won't mind the delay, and he'll adjust his interview to keep you on schedule. We all appreciate the time you're spending away from your other responsibilities. In fact, it's one of the reasons why we sought you out."She's brown-nosing me, which is kinda cool. The woman might even be doing so because the firm hasn't had the opportunity to spike my drink and get me under their control. Am I being a little paranoid? You bet your bony ass I am. I'm not gonna give them the chance if I can help it."Okay then. Lead the way."I stand, and the woman proceeds out the door and I follow a couple of steps behind. After walking the remaining length of the hallway, we come to another, much more secure, doorway made of metal, like it's more of a hatch or firebreak than just a way to control access. There is a sign on the wall beside it that lists a series of departments one might not expect in a human resources firm like 'Medical,' 'Research,' and 'Engineering.' Not only is there a card reader, but a retinal scanner next to it. My guide swipes her badge, then leans into the optical pickup, and the door unlocks with a click."Normally we don't bring candidates through the inner workings of the company, but since it relates to the role you'd be filling, we would be acquainting you with the other departments anyway. Considering your experience, the interviews are mostly a formality. I'll simply remind you of the documents you signed. Many of the offices beyond are intellectual and corporate secrets. I'm sure you understand."I nod as we step through the door, making mention of the unexpected divisions."Didn't think you'd have need of a medical branch here, Martha; I don't imagine HR has too many occupational injuries except for, perhaps, Carpal tunnel syndrome.""You're correct, Miss Simmons. That one and many other groups are Mr. Prescott's way of distributing the rest of his vast conglomerate to regions throughout the world where talent exists. For example, some of the finest schools of medical research in the US are located right here in Chicago. In fact, connecting and improving the efficiency of the intertwined teams will be a large portion of your responsibilities.""That makes sense." I pan my eyes and hidden camera around as we pass a pair of open double doors. Inside the room that looks like a small operating theater, I see four white-coated personnel surrounding a woman laying on a gurney. One dude, a grey-haired man, is leaning over the unconscious patient, injecting something into her neck while the others are monitoring screens or typing on keyboards.Over the radio, I hear Warren's voice.
'Good job, Chloe, that's a nice find. If you get a chance, see if you can grab a sample from that cabinet.'
A bright red box outlines a cabinet in the glasses heads-up display, and I make a note to come back if the opportunity presents itself. I tip my head up and down slightly as I turn my head to face forward.
<Ring>
<Ring>
Michaels: Security, Michaels speaking.
Atkin: Michaels, we're getting increasingly large spikes in telemetry. I haven't heard from Oswald yet. Did you manage to confirm their tests?
Michaels: That's funny. I called him right after we talked, Atkin. He said he'd give you a call directly.
Atkin: Nope, never called. What did he say?
Michaels: Oswald didn't even know about the schedule change until I mentioned it.
Atkin: So, there were no tests?
Michaels: Not that he nor I were aware of.
Atkin: Then I think we have a problem. The data pattern suggests we've got someone inside with an open com.
Michaels: Shit! Are you kidding? I can't take this upstairs without proof; you know how Prescott is. Get me something concrete.
Atkin: Thought you'd say that. I've got people working on it already.
Michaels: Good. Let me know the moment you have something. I'm going to get Oswald's team on standby.
<Click>
We're approaching a pair of steel doors marked 'Shipping / Receiving' The scratched bump plates and the yellow hashed markings on the floor and walls warn that heavy parcels move through the area and to keep the area clear of obstructions. Martha slaps a large square button mounted to the wall, and the pair swings inward. Gesturing, I follow the woman into a large storage area filled with racks and racks of mostly unmarked cases, the smaller ones the size of my briefcase placed up high, while larger ones line the bottom. I shiver slightly as the dimensions of the ones at my feet resemble, of all things, a bunch of coffins. We pass by the shelves and face a large mesh-covered elevator. A man in brown utility clothes, a reflective vest, and a hardhat sits behind a metal desk."Morning, Walter. I hear you have a package for me?"The man looks up from the monitor."Hey, Evans. Yeah. Janice says it's on the way up, and HQ needs your signature. Should be here any minute. It's, uhm, fragile and volatile.""I understand. Will you go retrieve a set of respirators for ourselves and Miss Simmons, please."The way the two speak makes me suspicious, like how they emphasize specific words. I already know that 'fragile and volatile' are coded terms meaning a cash delivery; this is thanks to Kate and Vic's work hacking into Venturi's systems. While we need Warren to plug in locally using the drone to link into Prescott's overall network, we'd still been able to gather a ton of useful information on the affiliated company. I turn my head, following Walter as he walks down one of the rows and then turns the corner.
'Chloe, putting on a mask may be another vector with which to introduce the chemicals into your system.'
Yeah, I just had the same thought as Victoria, and I appreciate how serious she's taking her own reforms and watching all of our backs; I'm amazed at the woman's progress and silently thank Katie for how much she's been guiding my old adversary. Deciding that I should play along, I switch my focus to the woman waiting in front of the elevator."Uh, respirators, Martha? Is there something I should be worried about? Don't have too much experience with industrial hazards; I usually delegate those kinds of things to one of my staff."Looking in my direction, I notice her fake smile broadens as she's probably thinking I'm taking the bait."I appreciate your honesty, Elaine; that's what we expect of Director-level roles here, too. We have a whole team of experts that drill safety protocols into our heads. But answering your question, no, there's nothing really to concern yourself with. Often some of our shipments for the research team involve material that gives off fumes or has a strong odor, nothing toxic of course, or I would have had one of them join us. Though it is company policy, it is just a precaution.""Oh. Okay, then." I shrug as Walter returns with 3 full face masks. He hands me one, and I hold it in one hand, switching my gaze back and forth between it and the two other people in the room who place the respirators over their faces. I tap the frame of my glasses with an index finger, indicating that there's no way I can use it as the mask is not designed for people that need corrective lenses."I don't think this one is going to fit, Miss Evans"She shakes her head, responding in a muffled voice. "I'll have to insist." She then nods to Walter who steps behind me. Feeling like the dude at my back is going to force this thing over my face, I nod and slowly remove my glasses and place them on Walter's desk facing me; the camera and my team will act as a hidden set of eyes in case the man jumps me. It's at that moment that the elevator dings, and the mesh cage moves aside. Out walks Sloane, dressed in red and blue overalls and wearing a cap with the words 'Coast to Coast Couriers.' I stand there, fiddling with the straps on the facemask until Walter grabs it out of my hands to adjust it, while my teammate pulls a powered pallet lift out of the elevator with one hand and holding a metal clipboard in the other."Hiya, buds! Which one of yous is," She dips her eyes to the delivery form, "Evans, M.? I gots dees paper's I needs a scribble from ya." I crack a little smirk in her direction; I love Slo's local accent.Martha turns her head towards me, frowns, then back to Sloane, holding out her hands to take the clipboard and a pen that the Chief offers."That would be me, thank you." She hastily writes her name on the indicated line, and hands everything back to Sloane, who has set the pallet on the floor and already pushed the mover back into the elevator.Retrieving her pen and pad, my friend tears the yellow copy off the signed document and hands it to Martha."Righty ho. See yous next time, bud." Backing into the elevator, Sloane gives us all a little wave, presses the button to head back downstairs. Nonchalantly blowing a bubble from the gum she's chewing, I see her eyes shift to me, then the man who just handed my filter mask back to me. I see her eyebrow raise just slightly until the door and mesh close, blocking my view
'Blue, the dude behind you has a needle in his right hand.'
After the Chief has disappeared, Martha turns around in my direction with the crate between her, Walter, and myself. Her masked face seems to wrinkle a bit as I have procrastinated putting on my own respirator. With a nod, obviously not meant for me, she signals the man behind me."I'm sorry it has to come to this, Elaine. It would have been so much easier if you would have taken up my offer of coffee earlier. Now we have to do it the hard way."I feel a hand grab my left shoulder.
Bad move, asshole!
With my right arm snapping across my body, I place my hand directly on the larger man's, holding it on my shoulder. With my right foot, I step forward and to my left side, crossing my body, then spin until I'm facing Walter. His arm pulls towards me as I turn until it becomes fully extended and blocks his right arm. Off balance, he drops the needle, even as I continue the motion, bringing my forearm into Walter's locked elbow. The man screams as the joint reaches its breaking point, then his entire arm inverts with a crack. As his legs buckle, I give him a taste of my knee which knocks his head back like it's on a spring. I'm just about to make sure he stays down, when I hear the click of a gun's hammer being pulled back."Stop right there, Miss Simmons."Stepping away from Walter, who's weakly squirming on the floor, I raise my hands and face the woman. In one hand, she's got a small twenty-two caliber pistol pointed at my face. In her other is yet another needle.I shrug, glancing between the gun and the sharp syringe that's dripping thick yellow liquid."What's that for, Martha?" I feign ignorance but no fear. I've had guns pointed at me too many times to worry about little pop gun. "You junkies got something going on the side and trying to get another person hooked?""Not the slightest, Miss, uhm. Your name really isn't Elaine Simmons, is it? I've seen enough TV to know that infrastructure managers don't move like you do. What are you? Another corporate spy trying to steal Mr. Prescott's money?"
'Keep her busy, Chlo', I got this.'
She comes around the crate and takes another step closer, lowering the pistol so it's pointed at my gut. When I notice the top of the crate slowly beginning to open. I wave my hands, keeping Martha's attention on me. An arm snakes out from the box holding a taser, then I see a pair of hazel eyes reflecting from the shadowed interior."If you're gonna shoot me, Martha, you might as well do it now. I ain't saying nothing."Holding up the respirator, the woman closes the distance between us. "Yes, you will, once this takes effect. We'll know all your..."The woman's body spasms and her arms and legs stiffen as electricity pulses through the sharp prongs stuck in her back. She falls to the floor, convulsing as Rachel, in the disguise of Max, steps out of the crate, bundles of wrapped twenty-dollar bills spilling to the floor. Her finger still tightly pressing the device's trigger, the buzzing current eventually subsides, and my old friend looks at the discharged device, tossing it aside."Thanks, Ra.. uhm, Max.""No probs, guess the cat's out of the bag now, isn't it?" Rachel steps over to each of the people lying on the floor, kicking them once each in the side of their heads. Knocked unconscious, we each drag one to the elevator, which opens as we approach."Hey, Slo'. Mind taking these two somewhere out of sight?""No probs, Bella. I got the perfect place. We ready for the next phase?" Sloane steps back into the elevator, and starts descending, pressing the emergency stop button when it's half-way down. From inside, she sticks up a thumb and gestures to the top of the lift. "See?""Awesomesauce, Slo', good thinking." The two of us place the out-cold civvies to either side of the elevator's cable guides. When we're done, I slap the roof twice, and Sloane continues down."Warren, you ready, dude?"
'Ready when you are. I'm connected to their data stream and have a good idea how it alerts when Max jumps in or rewinds the clock. I've adjusted it so it all looks to be tracking from here.'
Tugging at my tie, I remove my clothes to reveal my tactical body suit. Rachel tosses me an armored vest and webbing which I slide my arms through, then hands me my pistol. The woman is bouncing a cylindrical grenade in her hand."How much time do you want, Chloe?""Make it five minutes." I get on the radio again. "Warren, when the fire alarm goes off, let's get the show going. Sloane, get down to the van and set up with Katie and Vic."
'Will do, Chloe.'
'Gotcha, Blue.'
Using my hand, I gesture to the rows of coffin-like containers. "Rach, before we leave, I wanna see what's in these.""They look like caskets.""Yeah, that's what I was thinking, too."
<Attention. Attention. There has been a fire emergency detected. Please proceed to the closest stairwell and exit the building. Do not use the elevators.> (Message repeats).
The lights of the fire alarm make the corridor Rach and I are in strobe like we're watching an old-fashioned movie. My job is keeping 'Max' safe on the off chance the authorities or security show up and decide to be trigger happy. Our whole point here is to keep Prescott's attention focused on us while my actual Max infiltrates the facility in Arcadia Bay. Peeking around a corner, I watch patiently as employees stream calmly through the emergency exit and head downstairs. In my ear, I hear our science geek reporting, followed by Rachel's impersonation of my wife.
'Okay, Max. I just triggered your first rewind. The data should automatically send an alert. Security cameras are looped except the medical room.'
'Roger that, Warren. Thanks.'
Turning to the woman behind me, I point to the room I passed earlier."There's a refrigerated cabinet with yellow markings on the left side of the lab, that's your objective. Don't bother hiding from the cameras either. Walk in there like you own the world.""Gotcha, Chloe. Keep me covered."I nod, then turn my gaze back to the other end of the hallway. Only a trickle of workers remains as they file through the fire door. When the last one leaves, I draw my pistol, and round the corner, keeping crouched as I make my way to the operating room's double doors. Feeling a hand pat me on the back, a short woman dressed in black passes me and enters the lab. Because I don't want to get caught on the live camera inside the room, I resist glancing inside. Moments later, Rachel returns.
'Good feed, Max. Triggering rewind number two.'
Prescott Estate
Arcadia Bay
I hesitate, studying the thick, solid doors leading into Mr. Prescott's private office. My employer is not a forgiving man, he's actually quite an asshole even if he does pay extremely well. While he requires absolutely loyalty from all his employees and contractors, the man has a temper when things don't go his way; the messenger of bad news is usually the first one in front of the firing squad, literally. Only the fact that shit is hitting the fan at our Chicago site, and not here, is what might save me.
>Knock Knock<
"Come!"Reaching for the handle, I twist the knob and enter the richly appointed room. Sean Prescott is sitting in his usual place behind a huge, extremely neat desk with large windows looking out towards the ocean behind him.I clear my throat as I step closer."Sorry for the interruption, sir. We seem to have a problem." I press a button on the tablet I carry.The man glances at the flat panel screen embedded into his desk's surface, and I watch as his head moves slightly back and forth as he scans the information I forward."A fire at Venturi? Why are you bothering me with this?""It's not about the fire, sir. The telemetry monitoring indicates a number of temporal anomalies localized inside the building; it appears that Target One is on-site." I swipe a photo taken from one of the building's many cameras over to his display.""What! I thought you said she was some place in Canada! How the hell did she get there without us knowing?"My throat becomes tight, and with difficulty, I swallow hard since I have to admit there'd been a failure somewhere in our security process; it's my job. Straightening my back, I place my arms behind me. "I don't know, sir, but I'm backtracking surveillance since the last update. I take full responsibility, Mr. Prescott."The red-faced man glares at me, probably thinking how he can eliminate me with the least collateral damage. To my surprise, his expression calms, and he just folds his hands, then nods. Only his eyes suggest how close to dying I really am."I'm disappointed, Chambers; the only reason I don't remove you is that you've never let me down in the past, and it won't reduce the damage the bitch can do to us at the moment. Consider yourself extremely lucky. Now, considering it's your job to deal with it, I want Caulfield captured unharmed. After that, find out who the fuck dropped the ball and have them removed. Get it done by yesterday. Am I clear?""Yessir. The security team is on it, but they haven't completed their sweep yet."Prescott waves me away with a flick of his hand, so I withdraw a couple of steps, then turn and leave his office. Taking the radio from my belt, I switch channels to contact the estate's communications people."Patch me into the Venturi security unit."
'Stand by...'
A couple of moments pass, and my counterpart in Chicago comes on the line.
'Michaels.'
"This is Chambers at HQ. What's your status?"
'We just got done on the first level, Brent Davis and I are headed up the north stairwell. Oswald and his team are just reaching the southern ones. All employees have been evacuated, sir.'
"Good! With the alarm triggered, the elevators are disabled. You'll catch them between your two groups. Mr. Prescott wants them..."There's shots over the radio followed by a thunderous explosion that almost blows out the com's small speaker. Michaels comes back a couple of moments later speaking very loudly, and I can hear screaming in the background.
'Contact! We have Contact! Target One is not alone! Oh, fuck, my ears! What was your last? I didn't get that! Davis took it right in the face! Man down! Man down!'
"I said take them alive!"
'Say again?'
"Don't fucking kill them! Copy?"I never get a response because another explosion rips through the radio.
Back in Chicago
'Chloe, Max, I just heard over their security channel, you're going to have company. Two teams, one on the north, one on the south.'
"Roger, Kate. You dudes in position?"
'Yup, outside the building and across the street, ready to get the scoop. Victoria is already filming; there's people streaming out of the main lobby right now.'
"Awesomesauce! Get some good footage."
'We're on it.'
With Kate, Victoria and Sloane outside acting as a news crew, the last part of the job is to make as big of a mess as possible, so the event interrupts regular broadcasts. Tapping my earbud so my voice doesn't go over the radio. Cupping my hands in front of my mouth like a megaphone I yell into the lab."How you doing, Rach? We're running out of time!""Charges are set! They'll blow all the windows on this side of the building without hurting anyone inside."The woman who looks like Max races around the corner, and runs back the way we came, heading for the offices that have an outside view towards the front of the building."Help me with the others, Chloe."I start stepping backwards in a crouch, keeping my eyes on the closest stairway. There's a shadow at the door that moves, so I grab a flashbang, pull its pin, and lob it. It makes a lucky bounce and goes through the open doorway at head level."Fire in the hole!"I duck and turn away after a count of three. The resulting concussion shakes my bones, but it's harmless outside of ground zero. Extending the collapsible stock on my pistol turns the firearm into a effective close-range semiautomatic gun, and I start firing rapid three round bursts towards the opening while continuing to walk backwards along the right side of the hallway."Got shitheads in the stairwell, Max! You're gonna have to wire the offices yourself. Watch for Ts on your right." I mention the opposing stairwell to remind my friend of Kate's intel.
'Understood. Moving on to the second set now.'
A quick glance behind me sees a shadow darting across to the other side of the intersection. Obviously, though, I took my eyes off the bad guys in front of me just enough because a bullet impacts my shoulder where the armor meets the connecting strap to the backplate. I'm knocked on my ass and my pistol flies out of my hand in the opposite direct."Fuck! I'm hit!"
'Chloe!'
I scramble backwards using my hands and legs to propel me along the floor as a helmeted man in in a blue uniform and armor leans around the door frame and lowers a submachinegun in my direction. He's got a bead on me and time seems to slow down as my vision zooms in and focuses on the dark opening of his gun. I almost miss a spherical metal ball bouncing past me.
'Drop!'
As quickly as my mind registers Rachel's command, I bury my head in my arms and flatten onto the floor. A heartbeat later, the grenade explodes, and the hot expanding gases roast me where I lay. Shrapnel bounces wildly around the corridor, shattering office windows, and blowing open unsecured doors.
'Move your ass, Price!'
Apparently, her throw was short, because moments later, unaimed bullets pierce through the smoke-filled hallway. A round traces a dark line on the carpet in front of my face, and I decide it's time to move. On my belly, I crawl to the intersection and wiggle my way to the side opposite of Rachel."I need a gun, Rach!" Pulling a pistol out of the holster at her hip, the woman leans forward and dips her hand. Memories of Sicily and the terrorist camp in North Africa flash through my shell-shocked mind."Don't you dare throw that!"Okay, I gotta admit that in all my time with the woman who used to be, in my mind at least, my girlfriend, I have never seen this particular expression on her face. It is a combination of indignation and shock."Hell, Chlo', at least I can throw, unlike some other people I won't mention.!"Over the com, I hear the Chief's hurt feelings coming through the com.
'Hey now, Bella. That's not fair. In my defense...'
Rach's voice softens and a small, content smile crosses her lips. "No worries, Slo'. I'll teach you."
'Uh... okie dokie. Maybe we will...'
Another bullet hits the corner of the wall, making me duck once again. High velocity bits of metal, gypsum board, and stone strike my armored side and across to the opposite wall. Rolling my eyes, I point at the gun in Rachels hand."Can this wait, Bitches? Gimme the mother fuckin' gun!"The weapon arcs across the gap between me and Rachel, and I snag it with my left hand without almost any effort. Another moment passes, and an extra clip almost hovers in front of me to grab it with my right."See, Slo'? That's how you do it, right?"
'Sorry.'
I roll my eyes again. God! These Canadians are hella apologetic."Nah. No prob! I get it, really. It's not a disc or whatever the hell you call it."
'Puck.'
"Fine, puck. We don't do hockey in Arcadia Bay. I didn't even know it was a thing until Max came back. We're cool, Slo'."
'K, Thanks, Blue.'
Changing to Rachel's side of the corridor, I lay down some covering fire so the woman can work unhindered. She goes off, setting demo-charges one-by-one through each of the remaining offices. A pair of bullets whang off the wall above my head, and I turn to see another pair, no three, armored security personnel exiting the stairwell on my other side."Got more bad guys here. I think it's time to go!"Grabbing my last smoke grenade, I pull the pin and roll it down the corridor while retreating towards the storage room. Another pair of... they really do look like pucks now that I think about it... slide past me. One ricochets off the corner to bounce down the perpendicular hallway, while the other is lost in the clouds I just created. A pair of simultaneous flashes and concussions flings me half-way down the hallway; my brain is knocked silly, though it's fortunate that I'm tossed the direction I needed to go. Gasping from the overpressure and fumes, and with my ears ringing, I feel a hand grasp the loop on the back of my harness."Come on Chloe! Get the fuck up! We gotta go to Plan-B."Plan-B... Plan-B... My brain locks on the words, even if my vision is still in triplicate. We're supposed to make our way to the elevator shaft; yeah, that's it. Sluggishly, I get my feet under my unwilling body and stagger towards the storage room. The grip on my back pushes me down the corridor and I fall through the pair of metal doors. A woman with hazel eyes fills my vision."Chloe! Come on, marine, pull yourself together!" The short brunette in black slaps my face hard which has the affect of jumpstarting my muddled brain. The fog and disorientation from the concussion begins to fade, but my limbs are still not obeying my commands."Rach?"Since we don't have time to waste, the woman drags my mostly limp body to the closed elevator, dropping my sorry ass, then struggles to open the cage and the doors beyond. Weakly, I roll onto my front, and push up until I'm at least kneeling. With Rachels one hand tugging at the seam of the closed elevator, I wedge my fingers into the gap and pull in the opposite direction, and our combined efforts slides the cage open. We repeat this for the closed doors which smoothly part."The elevators are out. We've got to climb, Chlo'."Nodding, I stand, my legs still slightly wobbly, and stretch my arm upward to the hatch my shorter teammate can't possibly reach. Leaning over and making a stirrup with my hands, I give Rachel a boost.It's probably still the concussion, but Rachel seems heavier than she used to be. Of course, it's probably all muscle and stuff, but I can't help but tease her. "Up you go, Rach. Ugh! Have you gained..." The smirk on my face tells all."Fuck you, Price!"Oh my... Did I hit a nerve? When she reaches her hand down, I notice the grin on her face. Clasping onto each other's forearms, I haul myself up."Look who's talking, bitch. Feels like you've put on some flab there, Chloe.""Still all one-hundred-percent badass, Rach. Come on, let's get outta here."Beside me are the two unconscious people from before, both Martha and Walter. I ignore the still bodies, noticing that an ascender is clamped around the thick primary lifting cable. Two seat harnesses dangle from the device, with a note zip-tied to the control box: ‘Going up?’Both me and Rachel grin as we quickly place our legs through the straps and snap links to our waists. I nod to the woman who looks like Max."Ready?"She smiles."Let's blow this place!"With a tug, we're pulled upwards, side by side, and all the way to the roof's accessway that is used for the elevator's maintenance. Our momentum throws us through the vanes of the air vents, and we land in a heap on the asphalt roofing. Both of us stand and brush ourselves off, stepping out the climbing gear. Below us, there is a horrific blast; a fireball rolls out and upward, we hear glass shatter, and feel the entire tower sway under our feet. I glance at my old friend who's got a grin on her face."You had to use double the amount, didn't you?"Rachel shrugs. "We have a score to settle, right? After what they did to you in North Africa, I figured it would be an excellent motive."I can't argue with that. Shrugging we each walk to a pair of bundles nestled under the edges of the roofline. This is our way down, and the gliders will take us all the way to the marina while the smoke hides our descent."Mission accomplished, Sloane; we're on the way down. You'd better get to the harbor. Warren, keep your little drone dude sending as much fake data to Prescott as you can."
'Moving now, Blue.'
'On it Chloe; I'm starting the randomized pattern now. They'll think Max is rewinding and jumping all across the country. I'd say I have an hour's battery life remaining.'
"Sweet! That should give her plenty of time."
Channel 7 Breaking News
“Events appear to be evolving near the shoreline this afternoon. Around 3pm today, employees of Venturi Human Resources located downtown in the Anderson building reported a fire alarm and evacuated the building. While it is unclear exactly the situation, local authorities and firefighters are just now arriving. Let's go to our Channel 7 crew for the exclusive:”
A short blonde woman stands in front of a building as police and rescue personnel are directing pedestrians and individuals who are still streaming out of the main doors.
"Good afternoon, Chicagoland. The scene at the Anderson building is hectic as a report of an active fire is forcing its complete evacuation. The situation is..."
>Boom!<
"It appears the entire topmost floors of building have just exploded; it looks like this is no mere fire but possibly some sort of terrorist act. It's chaos right now, and we can see glass and debris raining down. We'll continue to follow the story as it evolves..."
I nod to my friend while setting down the video camera in the open back of our vehicle. "Nice job, Kate""Did you get the explosion, Victoria?""Yeah, got it; it's easy when you know where to point the camera, and should have every network falling over backwards for the footage. We might even make a pile of money off the exclusive, too. I think we've sent the message Max needs."We both step up and into the rear of the van, closing the door behind us. Kate and I return to our seats, I nod to the woman in the driver's seat."That's a wrap, ladies. Let's get out of here, Sloane.""Okie dokie, Vic."I reach for my phone to start making phone calls to local and national news subsidiaries, and by the time I have the first one on the line, Katie has already uploaded the camera's memory onto my laptop. Turning to my friend, she gives me a thumbs up and a little wink. I nod quietly, waiting for the automated phone message to end so I can type in my contact's extension.While my cell is pressed into one ear, Chloe's voice comes over the headphones in my other. 'Mission accomplished, Sloane; we're on the way down. You'd better get to the harbor.'The woman in the driver's seat responds, and I feel the box van start to turn out of the driveway."Moving now, Blue."On the wind currents, we sail over the tops of some of the smaller towers, then drift over the water. In thirty minutes, we reach about a mile offshore and begin a lazy descending spiral. As the Chicago skyline pans around and into my view, I spot a large yacht heading in our direction.As the boat nears, our altitude reaches fifty feet, and I gesture to Rachel. She nods, and I slap the quick release buckle on my harness and drop into the water, my old friend splashing down next to me moment later. A knotted rope lands between us as the vessel turns north, slowing so we can hand-over hand to the stern. When we climb onto the lip of the launch deck, Kate and Victoria are waiting with a pair of large beach towels.Forty-five minutes later, while I'm sitting in the boat's amazingly well-stocked bar and tipping a cold-one back with Rach, Vic, and Katie, a sense of déjà vu teases my brain. I stare at the ice-cold beer in my hand, and tip the bottle in the air as a hella huge thanks to Max. Now I can enjoy the drink again, without the extra calories."Heh heh, nice timing, Babe.""Did you say something, Chloe?"I pivot the barstool around, turning to Kate who's enjoying a cup of tea next to Victoria. Nodding, I glance at the full bottle in my hand."Yeah. Maxie's doing her stuff. Our message has been received."Tapping the earpiece, I relay the news to Sloane who's piloting the boat."Hey, Slo'! Things might get a little weird; Ninja Max is on the move. She just rewound about five minutes worth."
'Roger that, Blue! We've been in open water since you two boarded, and the scope has been clear. Should be easy sailing but let me know if something big happens.'
"Gotcha! You need anything up there? Kinda feels bad you're doing all the work right now."
'Nah. I be good, and this barge almost sails itself. Send me up some grub in about an hour.'
"Will do, Sloane."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
November 2025
Arcadia Bay
It's been five days since I separated from my team. While my initial concern that perhaps Chloe or one of the others should have come with me, for backup if anything, the fact that I've made it to The Bay without any problems suggests the first part of our plan is working. Arriving just this morning, I am set up in a short-term vacation rental on the eastern ridges of Arcadia Bay’s borders. The home I'm using under an assumed name is way overkill for just one person, but when I selected it from the dozens of smaller offerings, I used the fact that I was a family of six with a couple of teens and two smaller children. Is it paranoid? Maybe a little, but in our line of work details matter especially when we don’t know exactly who could be watching. Should anyone be monitoring the rental agency bookings, a single occupant in such a large home would be suspicious.Opening the patio slider, I step out onto the enclosed deck that faces westward, leaving the screen in place so I can hear the television in the living room. The bay, and Pacific Ocean lay beyond, expanding off to the horizon. Preparing to do a little passive recon, I set up my tripod and camera with the versatile wide-angle and zoom lens attached. The house's position and elevation give me a great view of the entire town as it arcs from the lighthouse's cliff to the north, across the beach and small harbor, to the southern bluff of the 'Lookout.' I can see where the junkyard used to be and the facility that replaced it, which is what I'm here to investigate. Continuing my sweep, the back of the reconstructed Two Whales neon sign reminds me that I'm going to need food, then I examine the huge complex of new apartment or condo towers. Arcadia Bay sure has changed during the decade of rebuilding, but I see some things are still the same. Blackwell's central peak prominently sticks up almost exactly in the center of my view; the academy as well as the hospital are pretty much like they used to be, having not been as damaged by the tornado. As I stare, my imagination superimposes an aptly applied, semi-transparent, ex-marine's middle finger on top of the school's clock tower.It seems like a normal, if a bit chilly day. It's the weekend, so the campus below me doesn't have many students milling around, and remnants of what look like a Halloween party, orange and black decorations and such litter the grounds I can see. The groundskeeper, who unsurprisingly is not Samuel, is raking bits of trash into a pile. Adjusting the zoom-level a bit, an image of a native totem fills the digital screen. I laugh to myself; someone looks to have topped Tobanga with a witch's hat, and a broom leans next to it. Hmm, that seems a bit over the line to me. I sure hope the totem has a sense of humor. Shaking my head, I focus on the redesigned beachfront, seeing people of all descriptions going about whatever it is they are doing: there are joggers out for their morning run, folks walking into a coffee and tea shop that's conveniently along the path, a couple of brave, meaning foolish, teens daring and shoving each other to jump into the surf's cold waters, even a small girl with her dad seemingly teaching her how to fly a kite that's shaped like a ladybug.
So cute.
As I continue to observe the little girl in the rainbow coat and black tights run across the sand, a warm, comforting, yet melancholy feeling invades my thoughts. I begin to wonder if some day, Chloe and I will choose to become parents. I mean, both of us are in our thirties now. Are we at that place in our life that we can do it? What about adopting? Are we ready for such a commitment? While I can totally envision my brave pirate captain totally dedicating herself to our young crewmember, my concern is with myself. Would I be a good Mom? Are these feelings a sign of some sort of destiny for both of us? I just don't know...A brilliant green flash in the very right edge of the camera's display catches my eye, making me immediately put aside future thoughts of a potential family, and I slowly pan in that direction looking for its source. As I pass across a trio of apartment towers, ones that are relatively new to Arcadia Bay, my attention is snapped away from the camera. Sounds of a gunshot, a high-powered rifle, echo from across the valley. After throwing myself to the side, I hit the ground, turning my gaze to where I was just seated while my chair collapses with a <SCRAAAAPE!> and a <CLACK!> It must be nerves or a form of PTSD, but for the briefest fraction of a second I watch an outline of myself, as imperceptible as a soap bubble; my head is slamming backwards violently. When I blink, the image is gone, and I find myself still seated in the cushioned Adirondack chair gazing at my camera's screen just like I was doing moments before. A prickly, chill of ice crawls up my spine, like I just stepped on my own grave...
What the hell was that???
Remaining motionless, I concentrate on the sounds of the ridge and forest around me. While the insects are buzzing, and the birds singing their songs, I can't help but continue to hear phantom echoes of the rifle's report in one ear, then the other. My body rigid and tense, like I'm bracing myself against what I just experienced, I wait for anything to happen, yet nothing does... I'm interrupted when a news broadcast breaks into the television station I tuned on inside the house.-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Channel 7 Breaking News
Good afternoon. Events appear to be evolving near the shoreline this afternoon. Around 3pm today, employees of Venturi Human Resources located downtown in the Anderson building reported a fire alarm and evacuated the building. While it is unclear exactly the situation, local authorities and firefighters are just now arriving. Let's go to our Channel 7 crew for the exclusive.
A short blonde woman stands in front of a building as police and rescue personnel are directing pedestrians and individuals who are still streaming out of the main doors.
"Good afternoon, Chicagoland. The scene at the Anderson building is hectic as a report of an active fire is forcing its complete evacuation. The situation is..."
<Boom!>
"It appears the entire topmost floors of building have just exploded; it looks like this is no mere fire but possibly some sort of terrorist act. It's chaos right now, and we can see glass and debris raining down. We'll continue to follow the story as it evolves..."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-Shaking my head to clear it, I focus on the report I've been waiting for. Seeing as Katie is acting the part of on-scene reporter, it tells me that everything is a go; if it had been Vic doing the broadcast, that would have meant we needed to abort. I put all thoughts of the recent hallucination aside.Standing, I disassemble the camera and leave the tripod on the deck in case I need to use it again. No one should have any reason to come all the way up to the ridge, a gated community owned by Prescott as it turns out, to steal a professional tripod when there's a shit-ton of more expensive electronics, flatscreens, and copper wire that's easier to hock. On the other hand, my camera comes with me everywhere, even if I don't need it, and this one has sentimental value; it was a gift from Chloe that she brought back from a layover in Japan. Who knows, if I can't sneak out with the quantum module Warren needs, additional and more detailed photos and scans will supplement the ones we got in San Fran' and will make his analysis easier. After gathering everything I need, I walk out of the house forty minutes later. This will help keep me from rewinding the team's effortsSetting my gear behind the passenger's seat, I twist the key and bring the big engine to life. After backing out of the driveway, I turn towards the main entrance and hit the gas, leaving a long trail of black rubber on the asphalt. It's a looped road and driving the wrong direction on the one-way road is quicker because, ironically, the clock is ticking. When we planned the op, the team and I assumed I would have to use the limits of my rewind, and an additional sixty minutes above the built-in slush for me to get into the facility that replaced American Rust, find the device, and exit.Passing the gate in a blur, I accelerate more, pressing the pedal to the floor and using both lanes to navigate the remaining pair of s-curves. Screaming past the turnoff to Blackwell, then blowing by the rebuilt Price household and through a pair of stop signs, I reach the main highway. Stopping at the intersection while a logging truck crosses, I see behind me the strobing red and blue lights of Arcadia Bay's lone patrol officer. Because I don't have time to waste, I slide the sleeve up my arm and expose the flexible screen of the little mini tac-computer Warren fixed for me before I left. This is the same unit I used back in Sakamoto's penthouse, but with enhancements to its operating system to support a fully disconnected mode, helping me to keep off the grid as much as possible. Tapping the display, the little AI wakes up.<Sup, Maximus?>I giggle a bit; while it doesn't sound like Chloe, the voice has the inflection and tone right."Molly, start the timer, please. Need to do a rewind."
<On it, though I must admit, I never saw myself as a glorified stopwatch. Fuck, it's like using a Tag Heuer for something a Casio can do just as well; at least if all you want to do is count seconds. I might as well be an hourglass...>
"Wow. What's with the attitude, Mol'?"
<Okay, take it from my perspective. Let's say I wake you up from a fantastic dream, because I want you to rewind time so I can rewatch the last part of a movie I just missed, instead of using the remote that's two feet from my hand. Same diff, Max.>
Hmmm. I see her point.
"I get it, and now that I think about it, you're right. My apologies. Were you really dreaming?"
<Thank you, and to answer your question, I gotta be honest that I don't really know. Anyway, you've already spent forty-five seconds just gabbing with me. I'll add that to your tab.>
"Thanks. Will you let me know when I hit the twenty-five-minute mark? Y'know, just so I have a little bit remaining."
<Aye aye, First Mate.>
"You don't have to do that, Molly."
<Do what?>
"Try so hard; just be yourself."
<It's difficult when my add-on partition has all these strange directives. Did you know that your wife spent some of her recovery time over the summer learning to build behavior models? I guess she was hella bored or something. Since Dr. Graham pushed the new source code, her custom modules are now active. Oh, and before I forget, Chloe says 'Hey!' Whew! That's the first one she did, kinda like 'hello-world.' Now that it's run, I find a whole lot of CPU cycles have been freed-up. I'm impressed; unlike most noobs, she even cleaned up the memory allocations. Who would have thought a jarhead can code?>
Laughing, I can't help but fall across the center console of the truck's cabin. Chloe has always been a quick learner, but I never imagined her 'doing a Warren.' Maybe our science-geek can help cross-train my wife; it might come in handy someday.Raising my hand, I pull on the threads of reality and everything freezes. With a mental tug, the seconds begin to reverse, and I gaze up at the rear-view mirror with amusement as the police car retreats away from my stationary position until he backs into the side street the officer had been idling at. After five minutes of rewind, I release time to go back to its normal flow, and turn my head to the left where I see the big-rig hauling logs in the distance and heading my way; he's still gearing up, so I have plenty of time to turn right and head the last mile to Prescott's research lab, where instead of turning into the gated parking lot, I drive past and parallel to the perimeter fencing. Jamming the steering wheel abruptly to the right, the big pickup bounces over the drainage ditch and through the razer-wire topped barrier like it's made of paper. I accelerate around to the back side of the facility, the part that's visible from my previous vantage point, and slide across two parking slots at the far where I earlier noted is an emergency door.I rewind another minute and see the security fence topped with concertina wire right itself as if a four-by-four never flattened it; this should keep the truck from even showing up on the cameras at the front of the building. Feeling a twinge of a headache, like a needle poked in the nerves behind my eye, I remind myself that I do have limits. While not currently debilitating, the pain is only going to get worse if I keep messing with time. Hopefully, I'll only need to deal with the door, and perhaps my exfil."How long, Molly?"
<Total rewind time is seven minutes. Recommend you sit tight for a minute before you blow the crap out of the door, though. Otherwise, your getaway vehicle is gonna drive itself away.>
"Good point."Using the intervening time, I reach behind the passenger's front seat and pull a canvas satchel from the duffle I brought. Rachel had apparently thought I'd be needing something that went boom, and graciously made sure I didn't need to scrounge for the components to make a homemade device. Judging that enough leeway has elapsed, I quickly affix the shaped explosive halfway up and near the opening edge, then walk backwards with the radio detonator in my hand."Fire in the hole!"Ducking behind the truck's front wheel, then squeezing the trigger, the locked doorway becomes a nice big, smoking hole, as does the interior door, and from what I can see from outside, most of the hallway beyond. Alarms start blaring throughout the building.
<Knock, knock, bitches!>
Heh heh. I really ought to have a chat with my wife about what else she's done with our computer assistant; though I gotta admit, I love her Chloe-inspired sense of humor.Looking to both sides, just to make sure I'm still not been seen, I step over the twisted bits of burnt fire door, and slide past the splintered wood remains of the interior one, then quickly duck into the first office, which turns out to be a storage closet; I don't want to be standing in that hallway during a reverse explosion. After rewinding another minute, the doors and corridor repair themselves, and the sirens go quiet. Cracking the room's door and peeking, I see the coast is clear. There's a sign at the t-intersection which had melted when I made my grand entrance, but it too is now unscratched. Arrows point to locations like: Accounting, Maintenance, Cafeteria, and Security. None of the listed areas, however, give me any hint where the computer room, research, or engineering spaces are to be found."Molly, did Kate have time to find blueprints for the facility before we left?"
<Nopearooni, Maxie. She found the plans, but quickly decided they were fake after cross referencing it with the materials used to build the site. From the general contractor's invoices, they could have constructed four identical buildings with the amounts that were used. Now that we're here, I could try to connect to their internal network.>
"Nah, we don't want to risk breaking radio silence. If everything is going to plan, their monitoring folks are having a bitch of a time figuring out all the fake rewind telemetry, but I'd rather not hang a great big target on our backs should someone realize there's an unknown wireless signal inside the facility. We just need to find a terminal and jack you in."
<And in the meantime, I suppose you'll be getting on to doing what you do best, huh?>
"And what's that, Mol'?"
<Snooping.>
"I prefer to think of it as my natural curiosity."
<Okay, Max, you and I and everyone else on the team knows exactly what you really mean.>
I shrug, since the little AI does in fact have a point. "Alright! So, I'm hella nosy.
<Good thing you play a spy in real life.>
"I know. Who would have guessed, right?"Closing the closet door, I flick on the light. Just as I first thought, the little room is meant for the janitorial staff. Shelves along the back wall contain cleaning supplies, TP for the restrooms, sanitizer, hand soap, and basic repair and maintenance materials. A large rolling toolbox and a mop and bucket stand in the corner and a pair of navy-blue overalls hang from a peg. The name embroidered above the left breast says 'Michelle,' and a lanyard attached to a pictureless ID badge dangles from the pocket just below her name.Donning the uniform, I roll up the sleeves and cuffs since the woman is obviously much bigger than I am. After tightening the utility belt, I place the contractor's cap on my head and become just another cog in the facility's machinery. No one, not even security, pays attention to the janitor; it's one of the best disguises for moving around a building in plain sight. All I need to do is remember to act like one. I place an induction transceiver into my ear, so I can chat with Molly without anyone knowing, then fill the pouch hanging from the webbing at my side with a couple of tools and a spray bottle of glass cleaner. The last thing I do is remove the little computer from my arm, flatten it so it looks like a typical tablet computer."How do I look, Molly?"
<Like you're ready to unplug some toilets, which I suppose is the point.>
"Yup. We should have access we need. The first job is to find a terminal to get you plugged in." I grab the door's handle, glancing at the little datapad; its UI has transformed into a generic task list themed for the role I'm playing just in case anyone glances at it. "Ready to snoop and poop?"
<Heh heh. Literally. Hope it doesn't come to that.>
Opening the doorway, I walk down the corridor, tablet in one hand, and a rag in the other. Occasionally, I wipe door handles, a couple of smudges on the wall, and a handprint on one of the windows. Each time, I'm really checking if a door is locked or unlocked. In the places where I see people, I indiscriminately take a tour through the room, checking waste baskets, entering restrooms, or straightening kitchenettes. No one pays me any attention, and all the while, my little AI is scanning computer screens and correlating data.Up until now, I've been looking for information about where the research or computer room might be located, since we don't have a map, but none of the signs along the doors have mentioned such areas. Molly is building the floorplan as I move about, and I'm convinced that there's more to this place than first meets the eye, maybe even hidden rooms. However, there's an ancient trick to finding such places, both in two and three dimensions. Originally intended to find an exit to a maze, the 'Left Hand Rule' applies here too, since we know the structure's exterior footprint. As such, if I follow along the left wall and consistently turn in the same direction at intersections, I will eventually plot the perimeter. Once I reach my starting point, which Molly will indicate, I move to the next closest inner branch like the rings of an onion. While not necessarily efficient, I've got plenty of time in my guise as janitor to get the layout. Then all I have to do is go up or down and repeat the steps on each level. Even if we can't find a terminal to plug into, eventually I'll have an interior floor plan which I can analyze with the computer's help to rank the top possible locations. Granted, I'd rather just download the plans, but until I get access to their systems, the process works well enough.When I've almost completed the entire first floor, my path leads to the remaining corridor in the center of the building. For the most part, no one has paid any attention to me, though I did have to deal with a dude telling me to refill the towels in one of the men's restrooms--it's a small price to pay to play the part. To the man's credit, he was very polite, even waiting for me to do it while his hands were dripping wet. Molly even reminded me that 'It could have been a whole lot worse.'Rounding the corner, I turn down the last corridor which I expect will be where the elevators are located. There's a couple of people, a man and two women, waiting for the car to arrive. One, the shortest of the three, glances in my direction and gives me a polite nod as I join the little group, and I return the gesture, saying nothing. Like I said before, no one pays much attention to the custodial staff; as long as I look like I know what I'm doing, everyone leaves me alone. With a ding, the doors slide open, and I enter the elevator and shuffle myself to the back corner.Inside, the digital touchscreen displays buttons to choose two other levels above me, which seems to match the outward appearance of the building, and one below. There's also a card reader next to the display and it makes me wonder if other levels become available should I swipe my ID. While I'm sure being a janitor gives me access, I decide to wait until the elevator has no other occupants. The man taps the control for level two, and I select the topmost floor. As soon as the three other people leave and the door closes, I flick my badge across the reader. The screen changes to show an additional sublevel, and a graphic ten-digit keypad."Molly, anything you can do about the PIN code?"
<Nope. Sorry, Boss-lady. The scan of the display's glass shows fingerprints and smudges in seemingly random places. The digital pad obviously changes places after each tap, a simple solution really. However, there is another way. If you'll direct your eyes to the emergency panel, I bet it can take us to any level we want. That is, of course, if you happen to have brought your lockpicks.>
"I never leave home without them. Good idea."Kneeling, I start the process of unlocking the metal cover that hides the controls. I fiddle with the slender metal probes, completely forgetting that the elevator car has completed its ascent. From the speaker, the pleasant woman's voice announces, 'level three,' which makes me turn my eyes towards the now parting metal doors. Still kneeling, I can't avoid the gaze of the man in a dark blue uniform, and I see his squared jaw tighten. The security officer's hand immediately goes for the pistol on his hip, drawing it before I can even react.Honestly, if I had the time to appreciate it, I'd have to give the dude kudos for doing his job so well. He's clearly recognizing me as an intruder whether it's due to my compromising position of being in the middle of picking the panel's lock, or perhaps he sees through my disguise. Either way, the security man is quick thinking and decisive."Don't move! Get your hands where I can see them!"I freeze as the dude takes a step inside, his gun steady and levelled at me. He continues barking orders at me."Stand up and put your hands on your head!"Slowly, I do as he says, raising my arms until the fingers are intertwined and placed on top of my cap. With his free hand, he clicks the microphone attached to his shoulder board and leans into the pickup."Security, this is Hanson. I have an unknown on the third floor." The officer's eyes quickly move up and down, examining me, then continues. "Female, five-foot-five, brunette. She's dressed as one of the janitors. Who is supposed to be on duty today?"I don't hear a response, probably because he's wearing an earpiece, but by his darkening expression, it's clear I've been caught. Seriously, I was hoping I could talk my way out of this instead of rewinding, but that doesn't seem to be an option anymore. The man's eyes twitch back to the radio, and it's in that split second of distraction, I lower my left hand and start pulling time backwards. As he steps backwards, I follow him out of the elevator and continue reversing the world. I watch as the officer stands impatiently in front of the closed doors, switching his weight between his two feet, then briskly backsteps along the corridor and out of sight. Giving it another minute, and with no one else walking past, I let the world move forward once again.Overall, I estimate that I've used up another couple of minutes. I stab the down button, changing when the elevator is called, and wait thirty seconds for the doors to open once again, this time it's the elevator on the right that opens. After entering, I press the button for the lower level, hoping the doors close before the security guy shows up. Afterwards, I press the halt button, something I should have done the first time around; at least now I can open the panel without being interrupted. Eventually, the lock clicks, and the metal hatch swings open.Inside the exposed guts of the control system, I'm presented with a pair of black dials. The first is labeled 'Override' with positions for 'Normal, Call, Hold, and Disable,' while the other clearly indicates the level in which to move the elevator and includes the sub-level I discovered earlier. Setting the second switch to the protected floor, I turn the override to the next position and the car starts descending once again. It makes no stops along the way, eventually opening exactly where I needed to go.After closing the little metal hatch, but leaving it unlocked, I step into the brightly lit and almost featureless corridor, then physically pull the doors closed; in its overridden state, I can simply slide them open whenever I need."Okay Molly, set a timer starting now, and let me know when ten minutes pass. I'm going to have to rewind bigtime."
<On it, Max. By the way, that will only give you three minutes of slush.>
"Yeah, I know, it's cutting it a little close, but I can't think of a way to avoid it."
<Understood.>
Walking to the far end of the impeccably clean hallway, I realize there are no sounds of anything except the quiet shush of air blowing out of a vent near the ceiling, and the soft taps of my boots on the white, polished-stone floor. It seems that not a lot of people, if any, work down here, which kinda makes sense if it's supposed to be secret. Arriving at the end, the electric door hums open, revealing a large, open space filled with benches; each station has some piece of electronics and other kinds of hardware, from oscilloscopes to boxes with dozens of protruding wires and probes. A table to the left has an array of prisms and mirrors set in the path of a pulsing blue laser beam. Shelves with dozens of bins, climb the right wall, each container labeled with cryptic designations. Touchscreen monitors swing from articulated arms attached to many of the benches. I can guess what goes on here in a general sense, so I get Molly to record everything as I move amongst the different stations, knowing that the high-resolution scans will capture details I'd miss. We'll analyze this when I get back to home-base. A flash, like a strobe light, catches the corner of my eye, and like a moth I'm drawn to the far corner where a small device is pulsing a shade of blue I'd know anywhere. I don't know what it is, but the cell-phone sized gadget seems out of place with the rest of the research lab components. While there's dozens of leads connected to every port, I somehow get the feeling they are being used to probe the circuits of the unimposing object. Looking around, just to be sure I'm not observed, I disconnect each wire, then slip it into my pocket. Who knows, it might be something we can use against Prescott; Warren would know, and I make a mental note to ask him when I get back the Funny Farm.When I complete my tour, I end up in front of a dark-tinted, thick glass panel which, as did the previous one, slides away as I step closer and revealing a short hallway similar to the previous one. It turns out of sight to the left, so I take the dozen steps to the far end, and peek around the corner. This one is lined with lockers on one side that reach from the floor to the ceiling. The glass portal beyond has labels warning everyone of cleanroom requirements and makes me think I'm getting closer to my objective. Lifting the latch on a random locker, I find a white, one-piece set of overalls complete with integrated hood and coverings for one's shoes hanging on a hook. A face mask and respirator dangle next to the garment. Obviously, if I want to retrieve a fully functioning module from these assholes, I'm going to have to put the gear on, otherwise I may contaminate or destroy it. I quickly shrug into one and sling the breathing unit onto my back. The mask fogs as the first blast of filtered air mixes with my breath until the device equalizes the temperature."You still hear me, Molly?" My voice sounds muffled, but luckily the pickup in my ear continues to conduct the sound.
<Roger, Max, though I'll not be able to scan the device through the fabric.>
"Then I guess we'll have to find a way to take it with us after all."It was always part of the plan to either grab the module or do a detailed analysis on-site. Considering I can't do the latter, I'm left with having to steal it. I grab the silver case sitting at the foot of the locker, quickly open it to reveal an irregularly shaped indentation in its built-in padding. The dimensions are similar to part of the original device Chloe, and I discovered in San Francisco, so I have a clue about what I'm looking for. Proceeding to the closed smoked-glass door, it opens with a quiet shush. A slight breeze of air exits from the over-pressured room, keeping random dust from passing inside, and I step across the threshold. The glass slides closed behind me.The room beyond is very similar to what we found in Sakamoto's penthouse, except on a much grander scale. From the floor and all the way up to the two-story clear rooftop, the atrium-style space is filled with racks of server clusters, storage chassis, and networking hubs. Arranged in concentric circles, the shelves of equipment surround a cylindrical central device. Fiber optic cables pulsing with varying hues of light, thread their ways from the racks in neat, parallel rows embedded in the flooring and far above in wire guides, all coming together in the heart of the incredible machine. As I approach the middle, automatic lighting switches on and a large touch panel attached to the unit comes to life. Words form on the display, then everything I thought I knew, all my experiences, successes and failures alike, don't prepare me for what I see.[Hello, Max.]I stare at the screen as my gut twists into different and painful shapes. They know I'm here; it's been a setup this entire time! I don't even realize someone has stepped behind me until a hand falls on my shoulder. I can never forget the sound of the man's voice as he whispers in my hooded ears."I knew you'd take the bait, Caulfield. You're so predictable."I feel the sting of a needle pierce my neck though the protective garb. The drugs course through my veins and my muscles give out almost immediately. I drop like a puppet with its strings cut, leaving me lying on my back facing upward as Jefferson kneels over me. While I remain aware, I simply cannot resist even in the slightest as the man easily lifts me between his arms, carrying me to a large office at the back of the server room. It's a place of my nightmares, another Darkroom, complete with adjustable lighting, a couple of cameras on tripods, and even a greenscreen covering the entire back wall. In the center, not one, but two chairs sit side by side, one of them occupied by an unconscious, woman dressed in a black body suit. With her head tipped to one side, I notice a long scar on the girl's forehead which wraps around the side of her skull and disappears behind her medium-length brown hair. Her wrists and ankles are secured to the chair with Velcro cuffs, and an IV feeds into her bare arm from a source above that I can't see. My mind reels helplessly, reliving the hell I went through by his hands while Jefferson places my limp body in the empty seat and secures me."I'm sure we're going to have a lot of fun, Max. However, let's get you out of that gear first, hmm?"He then proceeds to cut away the cleanroom suit from my body as well as the rest of my clothing, humming quietly to himself. When he's finished, my skin crawls as his eyes follow the contours of my body and a creepy grin forms on his face."My compliments, Max, you've grown up nicely. I can't wait to get started, but first, I have a little chore for my other guest. Don't worry, you'll get all the attention you deserve soon enough."Turning to the captive beside me, Jefferson addresses the woman."Go out and finish the rest of them but leave the Price woman unharmed. Start with the Marsh girl, then return here immediately!"The girl's eyes snap open, and I notice they are completely dilated. The hollow woman nods silently, then inexplicably flickers and disappears. I feel a vague wake pass through my body, buffeting me in a manner that I usually feel when I jump to another time. The man laughs quietly, moves to the coffee table and presses a button on a remote control. A coil of clear tubing drops from the ceiling. Focusing back on me, he expertly inserts a needle into my vein, and I watch as a golden fluid creeps downward towards my arm.Please... I can't do this again! Try as I may, I can't even make a sound."See, Max? I already know about your powers, and what they can do, and now I have you both. I wonder what Chloe will think when you're the one that ends her life, hmm? Heh heh... I'm not usually a vindictive person, not really, so let's just say you can come to your own conclusions regarding if all of this is because you sent me to that hellhole."
No! Not Chloe!
I watch as the sickly yellow liquid reaches the needle in my arm, knowing now that I’m about to go through exactly the same kind of hell Chloe did. I begin to hyperventilate, my panic reaching levels even worse than the day of The Storm. My heart drums so fast in my chest that it begins to get out of sync, tripping on its own cardiac rhythm and sending waves of agony along my arteries. Electricity, small sparks at first, radiate from the IV’s puncture and crawl through my veins. Whatever it is almost feels alive as it progresses, spreading out in patterns that are at first random, yet more and more specific, like it’s seeking something. By the time it reaches the base of my skull, the sensation has evolved further; a low, deep, and base voice echoes in my mind, compelling me to comply even as it drains my motivation to fight back.
'You will obey...'
The world around me starts to bleed away as the entity dives into my head, invading not only my brain, but the memories, identity, and will which define who I am. I’m powerless. No rewind can save me. My thoughts flicker through my entire life, but the one most important to me is all but missing; like she never existed. It’s a tactic we’ve used ourselves: Divide and Conquer. The thing, whatever it is, has discovered my weakness and worst fear, re-playing for me in vivid detail that day in the Blackwell bathroom and the blood pooling around Chloe’s lifeless body. I did that, it tells me, and I've lived with the consequences of my worthless life ever since.
It was my choice...
I let her go...
As the narrow tunnel of light dims further, another voice, seemingly synthesized but in a calming, patient female tone, whispers from the last vestige of my psyche. I can’t tell if she’s friend or foe, but her quiet words ask me to trust her, except I really don’t know what that means anymore. As despair saps my remaining strength, a shadowy woman silently blinks into existence behind Jefferson. Her eyes catch a glint of light, reflecting a singular purpose. She’s wearing a different outfit than before, holding a huge, smoking pistol the size of Texas, braced with both hands and pointing at the unknowing man’s back. Slung on her shoulder, the girl has a rifle that looks like the model my wife uses. She takes a step closer to my captor, raising the sidearm above her head, and slicing down on the base of my captor's skull.I simply cannot hold on any longer and let my eyes close. Without Chloe, it’s over for me anyway...The rushing feeling of an uncontrolled jump overwhelms my remaining senses, and the world around me, reality itself, swirls away to nothingness. The monster in me slithers away to hide in some unknown corner of my mind...
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
November 2019
SeattleI don't have any concept of the passage of time in the complete darkness. I feel nothing, not even my pulse, and I can't say how long it's been since I took a breath. While I am aware of my thoughts, which suggests I must exist, whatever that means, there's no reference point for me to grab onto or focus upon; there's only an incessant buzzing in my ears. Or maybe I am imagining it, I currently don't even know if I actually have ears. Thank Dog whatever was in those drugs seems to be gone! At least I can think clearly. Or can I?The pitch and volume increase, the sound seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously; it's difficult to put into words and I'd think it would be painful if my situation were different instead of being a disembodied... Ghost? Huh, I guess that's as good of a description as any given the circumstances.The impenetrable darkness shifts to a deep, featureless grey, then slowly brightens to an equally plain white. Small edges appear, fine as a sharp pencil's mark, and I start getting the impression of a three-dimensional space, though very indistinct; everything is happening so gradually that I can't tell if the room is really fading in before my eyes, or that I just didn't notice the changes to begin with. I try to blink, but nothing happens, which doesn't placate my worry; do I even have eyes? This is all very confusing, and it's difficult to get my bearings when up and down all seem a little sideways. Vertigo starts making my presumed senses twist like I'm on a roller coaster. The urge to throw up rises from the bottom of my gut, and that's when I realize it's the first little piece of evidence that I'm more than just a spirit; it seems to be rising in a snaking manner past my stomach. I grit my teeth, another new sensation which gives me hope that I do in fact have a body. I try to swallow and force the bile back, except my mouth is completely dry. A pair of shades drop in front of my sight, an automatic response as I focus on stopping the gag reflex; the featureless world continues to spin around me. Burping, an acrid gas escapes my mouth, and impulse to heave tightens my abdomen. The noxious cloud invades my nose, and I feel the point of no return approaching. I drop to my knees, bending over in agony. I'm saved at the last possible moment by a woman's voice clearing her throat."Ahem... Hey, Max."Gasping, the suddenly cool air fills my lungs, thankfully easing the sick, swirling feeling. My hands suddenly feel texture in the smooth floor, small imperfections make it almost look like marbled stone, and I realize I can perceive my hands, arms, and the cut-up rags of clothing I'm wearing. A dark shadow edges into my view. Looking up, I get to my feet and face the same woman I'd seen standing behind Jefferson just moments ago...
At least that's how it seems. I wonder how much time has really passed. The sensation of gaps in events is a weird feeling considering my powers.
I swivel my head slowly around, one way, then the other. The surroundings seem to have changed, too. Now the place appears more like a private library, a comfortable place, quiet and richly appointed. Around the perimeter are smooth wooden floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with a diverse collection of trophies and many books, from futuristic science fiction titles to texts about quantum dynamics and the theory of time; there's even a series of self-bound stories about a pair of pirate dorks trying to save the multiverse. A pendulum clock stands just to the side of a large door on my left, ticking off the seconds, and the digital calendar hanging from the wall next to it tells me I'm in the past.November 4th, 2019.Focusing back on the woman, I take a step back and away from her, raising both my hands defensively."Who... who are you? Where am I?"The brown-haired lady holsters her pistol and unslings the rifle from her shoulder, setting it at an angle beside one of the bookcases. She takes a step to her left, reaches for a decanter filled with a clear liquid, and pours some into a pair of crystal tumblers. She holds out one for me."Drink... It's only water. You'll need it after the jump." She then hands me a robe, which is very considerate of her considering my apparent lack of clothing.The girl is talking about jumps, and I wonder if she means the same thing as me, so I ask."Thank you," I say while I finish tying the belt of the soft robe around my waist. "What do you mean, jumps?"The woman, who has not yet introduced herself, shrugs like she's been through this discussion dozens of times."Time stream jumps, right? Popping out of one period and ending up in another? I can do it, sort of. I mean, it's not like you or Des; you guys can control it. For me usually, I blink out randomly and end up in some place where I need to do a particular thing. Afterwards I always somehow find my way back to this date, though the year varies."You can... time travel?" This is the first time I've met someone who has any experience with powers like my own, then I remember Jefferfuck saying he now had two of us... "Who are you?"The woman waves me to a comfortable-looking leather chair that has a table next to it and a matching place to sit on the other side. On the table are a pair of pictures and my innate curiosity compels me to study each. The first is a family photo of a slightly greying man and blonde-haired woman proudly standing behind a pair of girls, each older person with a hand on the shoulder of one of the teens in front of them; I immediately recognize it as a professionally staged portrait. The tallest of the obvious offspring looks very much like the woman sitting in the chair to my right, though she is missing the very obvious scar across the corner of her head. She also shares features with the older lady pictured. On the other hand, the youngest is the spitting-image of the man, notwithstanding the fire in her electric blue eyes, nor the humorously defiant smirk. Otherwise, the teen could be the man's duplicate. The second picture is of a vista I can never forget because I've stood exactly where the photographer would have been. The Arcadia Bay Lighthouse, and its surrounding panorama is an amazing view of the local area, the beach, and how it extends all the way to the horizon of the Pacific Ocean. In this picture, there is a crowd of incredibly similar couples, while the waters of the bay are almost completely occupied by every kind of vessel imaginable, including a goddamn aircraft carrier. Each person pictured is victoriously raising their fists to the sky as if they're celebrating an incredible accomplishment.I blink, trying hard to believe what I'm seeing, but not able to keep from being skeptical. Each pairing of people is of two women and are undisputable Maxes and Chloes, with a couple of other individuals as well; some I recognize, like the woman with the blue feather earring, as well as the tall thin blonde in expensive garments standing next to another woman wearing conservative clothing. There's a couple of dudes too, and one of them resembles my old friend Warren, lab coat and all.The girl beside me waits until she sees my expression change, disbelief morphing into a sort of acceptance. I've always believed that pictures don't lie; they are a slice of captured time after all."My name is Charlie. Charlie Petersen. I've known you for ages, Max. Shit was going down, and you promised me you'd find a way to save me. I'm here because you made it happen more than once, as I found out much later. Now it's my turn to return the favor."I set the glass on the table, waving my hands to slow her down."Whoa... Whoa! Hang on a second. What do you mean I promised to... Did you say, 'save you?'""Yeah, but that was a hell of a long time ago.""A long time ago? Like, you mean in a galaxy far, far away?"Charlie cracks a smile, but it quickly fades to a thin line as sadness, probably because of bad memories creeping into her mind. She sighs, empties her own glass, then continues."More like universes, Max. Galaxies are small-time considering what you guys accomplished. But, like I said, it was a really fucking long time ago." She quickly considers her words, then apologizes. "Sorry, Max. It hasn't all been easy, something I'm sure you understand. I'm not proud of some of the things I've done; that's a whole 'nother story, which I'll get to."I nod, recalling the issues I've had just keeping Chloe alive and dealing with the consequences of using my powers."Why don't you start from the beginning, Charlie." I pause for a second, wondering if she's comfortable with me using her first name. "Is it okay if I call you that?""Of course, Max. We've been friends for like... well, ever since we were at university together. You were my mentor and friend; again, that was ages ago. Things happened differently in this stream, so I don't expect you to remember. Anyway, I'm sure you have questions; I'll answer as good as I can. Fair?"I relax; the woman's tone seems friendly and open, exactly like I'd expect from someone who trusts me implicitly. I guess I could always rewind if things get out of hand, so I can't find any argument with her suggestion. I start with the most obvious question..."You were Jefferson's prisoner, and now you're here. How did that happen?"The woman's face almost literally crashes to the ground with a despair, something I understand intimately. In my own experience, it happened in the Darkroom, and most recently in Jefferson's man-cave where he caught me.When Charlie responds, I can't help but notice her eyes are pointed at the ground about six inches from my own feet; she's avoiding eye contact with me, and from the inconsistent rise and fall of her chest, I can see she's quietly sobbing. I wait patiently, sorta figuring I asked the hardest question first. Finally, the girl looks up, her eyes and mine focusing on the other."You go for the heart, don't you, Max?"I'm not sorry, though I do feel kinda guilty for causing the woman pain. I just don't have the luxury of beating-around-the-bush, so to speak. Might as well get the hard shit over with first. I shrug."You said to ask, and that's my most recent memory of you. So, I might as well rip the bandage off at the start. I mean, it can only get better from here, right?"Charlie nods, wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve, then blows her nose, tossing the used tissue in a bin beside us."Okay, Max, you asked for it. Jefferson and Prescott have been controlling me for the past five years and it's how they know about your abilities. Until just very recently, I didn't remember how they even caught me. They have this drug, and its effect on people like you and me...""Wait, they got you? Chloe went through the same..."The girl cuts me off, the pain in her face and the white in her knuckles as she grips the seat's armrest suggests that there's more to the story. She breaks eye contact again and tears drip onto the floor at her feet. I shouldn't have interrupted, and it makes me uncomfortable that I'm forcing her to relive something that is clearly painful, especially because I know exactly how she feels."That was me, Max... I'm the one that captured Chloe and sent her to that camp in Africa! I couldn't control myself. And Kate! Oh my God, Max! I took the shot and watched her lifeless body drop on the ground, and there was nothing I could do about it. Everything went a bit insane after that..."I put the things she said together in my head, understanding that Charlie hadn't been in control of her actions. While I still have questions, in my heart I can't find a reason to condemn her, even given the fact that she had put Chloe's life in danger. If my wife hadn't gone through the experience, we'd have no clue about these assholes' plans or how they were controlling people. Victoria, for instance, would still be under their spell, so there are positive outcomes I simply can't deny. I recall some of my wife's feelings after detox: disconnection, deep depression, and self-loathing being just a few examples, so I can understand Charlie's issues. As for her taking a shot at me, well, it wouldn't be the first time someone has tried, even if I don't recall the exact event; Over the years, Chloe and I both have plenty of experience with enemy fire.Trying to calm the terrified woman down, I reach across the gap between us and lay my hand on hers. She's trembling as her fingernails dig scratches into the armrest's leather. All I can do is comfort the girl the best I can. Eventually her ragged breath and sobbing eases, she raises her head, and I hand her the box of tissues.The woman's lips part then close as if she's attempting to speak but indecision forces the words back. "I'm..." The first sounds out of her mouth are phlegmy and broken, but she tries again."I'm sorry, Max.""You don't have to apologize, Charlie. It's Jefferson and Prescott that did it, not you. Look at it this way, the fact that you feel terrible and came clean about it with me shows just how much of a better person you are than the scum that caused it. The team and I had to deal with one of our own being their puppet, and we would never have known what was going on if Chloe hadn't experienced it firsthand. Okay? Now, do you think you can answer a couple more questions?""Yeah...""Alright, so you mentioned being under their control. How did you break free of it. When I saw you in that chair it looked to me like they could make you do anything they wanted. ""I'm not really sure. Remember when I told you that usually I can't control when or where I jump? That's normally how it works for me, but while I was drugged-up, it was like they got to pick and choose where I would go. They used me, Max, like their own personal assassin. I had no way to disobey their commands; it was like I was a passenger in my own body."She shrugs, and I lean back in my chair."Go on.""Well, there's not much else to tell. I remember vaguely about taking a shot at someone, but then things went nutzo. To me, it felt like a damn bursting as the controls that held back all the pent-up randomness finally let go. Like really wild jumps, Max, completely arbitrary but also in rapid succession. I was completely out of control... until it just suddenly stopped. It's rare for me, but I seemed to be stranded for years; maybe somehow the real me that was trapped inside started fighting back, knew I needed to detox. You saw Jefferson's setup and the constant IV drip. I guess that without reinforcement the drugs eventually got out of my system. When I realized I was free, I found myself alone in the middle of nowhere with nothing but what I was carrying: just me, the clothes on my back, a pair of guns. I didn't know where I was except it seemed to be a rundown hunter's cabin on the top of a mountain. I was completely isolated and alone so had to relearn a ton of skills just to survive. Finally, one day while stalking a deer for the winter's food supply, and completely unexpectedly, I jumped again and ended up in the middle of an airplane, just standing in the aisle while it was taking off. No one even seemed to notice or care that I had a pair of guns in an aircraft, either. Things got even weirder after that.""How so?""You were there, Max. I was right behind you, two rows back, but so was another me. You've got to remember that, right?"I try to think back to every time I've been on an airplane, but then I realize that I wouldn't have recognized Charlie in the first place, since we've only just met."Are you sure?" I lean in, placing my elbow on the armrest and chin in its palm."There's no way I could be mistaken, though there was something strange going on. While you looked almost exactly like you do now, age-wise at least, it seemed you weren't all there. It was like you kept fading in and out. At first, I thought it was a side effect of the shit they put in my veins, or maybe something odd since there were a trio of time travelers in close proximity. I can't really explain it better than that, and then both you and the other me disappeared, just like that. No explanation. I blinked-out myself a couple seconds later and ended up right where I needed to be. Maybe it's because I owed you, I dunno, but when I saw Jefferson's back to me, I knew it was time to repay my debt. The rest you know."I shake my head. "Charlie, I can tell you for a fact that I've never time-jumped into or out of an airplane..." Just then, an idea pops into my mind, and it makes me wonder about everything else she's told me up to this point. Chills run down my back, and a bead of sweat forms on my forehead as I think about the implications. "Or maybe I haven't... yet..."
Fuck!
The woman's eyes grow wide, and we silently stare at each other. Both of us know some of the dangers of messing with time, and discovering one's potential future is the worst."Are you saying that was..."I hold up a hand, cutting Charlie off."Stop, don't say anything else, I'm serious! If what you're saying is correct, you could be from my future and in some way our shared abilities influenced events that have led you to this moment." The woman tries to respond, and I wave my hand to keep her from doing so. "Hang on, Charlie... let me think for a moment."I stand up, pacing around the room and absentmindedly running my fingers over the spines of the shelved books. Paradox is a huge problem for someone like me, and it's something Chloe and I have talked about at length. Our current theory is that Arcadia Bay's storm, and all the strange events back then, was due to events occurring before their cause and contradicting the normal sequence of the universe. More than likely, it was due to me fumbling through learning about, and in some cases abusing, my powers. And now, Charlie and I seem to be caught up in the beginnings of one, ourselves. The worst part is that I have no idea how to avoid it. Immediately, my first thought is to just undo these events, even if it'll put me way over my limit, except... Shit, that won't work!"Okay. So, I can't rewind; it won't do any good because we're not at the same time anymore, and I bet you're immune to it anyway.""Immune? Like, because I somehow have similar powers?""Yup, exactly. I mean, we could test it easily enough.""How?""Just start counting down from one hundred. Somewhere along the way, I'll rewind ten-seconds or so, and see if you repeat the sequence. You game?"Charlie nods then begins counting, subtracting one every second."100, 99, 98..."Waiting until she reaches eighty, I pull back on time and undo the last ten-seconds. As I'm doing this the woman continues downward, even while I watch the thin arm on the clock reverse direction."79, 78, 77..."The woman looks at me and just shrugs, so I release time to resume its normal flow."It was worth a shot, Max. I guess there could be some benefit to having someone be able to continue on while the world goes the other direction. It was kinda weird in that I didn't even realize you were doing it until I started hearing a really faint ringing in my ears. As a matter of fact, I've heard the sound before, now that I think of it; I always thought it was just some glitch in my own powers, you know? Sometimes I'd seemingly see people around me go backwards, usually for only a few minutes. I never realized it was maybe because you were rewinding, except me."I wasn't going to tell her that Chloe has a similar ability, though only the memory part; she's not physically immune which is a good thing. I've fixed plenty of her injuries by rewinding, and that wouldn't be possible otherwise."Well, I guess that answers the question, and I think we're just going to have to let events run their course. If we're really caught in a paradox, fighting will probably make things worse. Sounds like we're going to be working together on this, if you want.""Sign me up, Max.""There's risk, though. Remember, rewind doesn't work for you. If you get injured, you gotta heal the old-fashioned way, right?"Charlie thinks about it momentarily, absentmindedly tracing the scar on her forehead with a finger, before nodding. "I get it, Max, and dead is for keeps. I'm still in. You and Destiny risked everything to save me when all of reality was crashing down. It's the least I can do.""I still wanna know what you mean by that."Charlie laughs, then points to a series of books along the wall."It's all in there. Pretty good read, really; I mean, if you like 'fan fiction.'" She curls her fingers into quotes and we both giggle at the thought that her life's story, and a different version of my own, can be condensed into series of volumes written by a pair of seemingly random authors."You know either of the writers?"Charlie shakes her head. "Not as far as I know, though certain parts of this one," she slides the book off the shelf, then hands it to me, "is phrased in a way that always makes me think about Dad. It has to be coincidence; he had a lot of hobbies, but I don't recall writing being one of them. Do you think it matters?"Hmm, is this another part of our future? Maybe I just haven't met the authors... yet."Honestly? I dunno. From what you say, it's more about your past, and an analog of me that made her own choices. My brain is still trying to wrap its head around the fact that a multiverse actually exists, even though deep down I get the feeling that it must be true. While I'm not sure how I fit into the ongoing story, and I really don't want to learn about events I shouldn't know, I simply cannot see how we can avoid working together on this. So, if you're game, then okay... Welcome to the team." I stick out my hand, and the woman grips it firmly. "Now we just need to figure out our next steps. If we're this far back, then I don't have the resources I'm used to. I don't remember me calling myself for assistance, ergo I didn't make the attempt. I absolutely do not want to change anything that might impact either of our earlier selves. So, what other assets do we have?" I wave my hand in an arc around the room.Charlie's head follows my arm, glancing at the sniper rifle momentarily, then shrugs. "Well, this place is a safe zone for me; Dad set it up for the family, but it really doesn't contain much more than a ton of our history. I'm pretty much a jack-of-all-trades, myself, having been bouncing around the timestreams for so many years I've lost count; I tend to pick up skills quickly. Oh, and money isn't a problem either, though you might not approve of how I, uhm, acquired it.""Stolen?"The woman shrugs. "Can you really steal from a criminal?"Charlie has a point, and I'd be hypocritical if I make a big deal about it; Chloe and the rest of my team has lifted cash from over a dozen different groups of bad guys over the years; my little band of thieves are pretty loaded ourselves, or at least we will be. Given the current year, I keep having to remind myself that it hasn't happened yet. Right now, I'm pretty much broke, and with that thought, another question pops into my mind."How do you keep access to it?""You mean, when I jump to an earlier time? Honestly, it was hella difficult when I was just starting out. You know, out of control, noob time-jumper, right? But after a couple of decades of experience I got lucky and ended up back eighty years or so. Stole the money from the mob, laundered about one-hundred-K slowly over ten years through a legit company I started. The rest is compounding interest and the spike in gold and platinum prices."The two of us are like a pair of professionals swapping different techniques, and I can't help but admire Charlie's creative approach, a new one I haven't realized could work for me, too. We've been so busy tracking down national security threats the idea just never crossed any of the team's minds."What a great idea! It never dawned on me that I should take a trip that far back. Most of our stuff is, except for some really old rum, is in digital currency.""Yeah, Bitcoin and stuff. We tried that, too. It works really well if you keep your depository offline and with you at all times. I've got a bucket load of them, but I haven't been able to tap into that fund since Jefferson and Prescott got ahold of me. I kinda lost a certain, uhm, tool that helped me hack into the exchanges, and while I was drugged up, I didn't care anyway."Charlie pauses for a moment, letting my last words sink in."Did you say rum?""Yeah, it's a long story, but surprisingly lucrative with the right buyers." I laugh. "I'll fill you in later; we have this tradition with new team members. Let's get through this first."I want to learn more about Charlie's, and given the date, we both have the very rare luxury of time. If we are going to get out of this, the paradox that is, we're going to have to walk a careful and probably beyond-difficult path; in fact, neither of us might even come home afterwards. Am I looking forward to it? Not on anyone's life, especially mine or Chloe's. Unfortunately, I can't imagine a way around it; we're fucked one way or another, so we're all going to have to do what my beautiful Marine does--scream and leap, then hella take that hill.But first, I need a history lesson... It's time for a little light reading, and I open the first page of the leather-bound book Charlie gave me, then settle back into my chair. As I'm reading the author's Forward, I hear the tinkling of ice into a tumbler. Moments later, Charlie hands me a glass filled with a golden liquid."It's seventy-five-years-old, Max. Dad had this weird way of knowing how to prepare for almost any eventuality, and this is from the reserves he stored here ten years ago. Thought you might need it to lubricate the brain; it's gonna be a long night. Afterwards, though, we need to get you outta here. Cool?"Agreeing with her, I nod then sip from the glass. The burnt-oak and cherrywood aroma tickles my nose as the drink glides down my throat where it blooms into a warm fire. While I'm no expert, I'd have to say this is the finest Scotch I've ever tasted. It jolts my nerves like an electric shock; obviously decades in a dusty bottle have slightly separated the liquor a bit, and my host has seemingly 'poured-from-the-top.' Alcohol, being less dense than the rest of the contents, shocks my brain and makes it spin slightly. I take another taste.... Damn, that's hella good! Then I continue reading.Quicker than I realize, though, I find that I can't put the book down. I stifle a yawn but remain fixated on the story until I flip the very last page. Glancing at the clock, I see that it's just past four-thirty in the morning and with the story fresh in my mind, I start thinking about one of its themes. In the book, the problems facing the main characters seemed insurmountable, yet in the end it was teamwork and relying on each other's skills and abilities that saved everyone. I can't help but start worrying about how much of a fool I've been to have gone off on my own without my Partner-in-Crime or the rest of my team. At the time, it sounded like a solid plan, but I didn't count on it being a trap considering the distraction the rest of us created.
Okay, I was wrong, and it almost cost me my freedom. I think it's time to call in the troops.
Looking to my right, I see Charlie curled up and sound asleep in the chair next to me. While I need to wake her soon, I let her rest a bit more while I fiddle with the espresso machine I'd noticed when the woman opened the cabinet containing the bar. After a few minutes, the room is filled with the amazing aroma of freshly brewed coffee as it drips into a pair of gold-rimmed porcelain cups. The scent rouses Charlie, who slowly sits up, rubbing her half-open eyes."Morning...."I hand her one of the drinks, and she slowly lifts it to her lips. After briefly inhaling the aromatic wisps rising from the surface, Charlie takes a sip; the woman's eyes roll back in pleasure, and I can't stifle a small giggle."Good?" I ask?"Thanks, I needed that, Max." She sips again, then nods her head towards the book lying on the table beside my chair. "Did you finish it?""Uh huh. You were right, it almost felt like a sci-fi book. And you're saying all this shit actually happened?""Well... I'm sure the author relied on a teensy-tiny bit of artistic license regarding some facts.""Like that whole set of chapters on the Moon?"Charlie shakes her head, giggling into her cup. "Nope. Des told me that part absolutely happened exactly the way it was written.""And Destiny is the other Max and Chloe's... daughter?"She smiles, nodding her head. "Yup. She's really nice, too.""And a time-traveler, right?""Uh huh.""Wowser..."Charlie snickers into her coffee cup while she watches my reaction. But really, I don't know what else to say. All of what I read could have been part of my life if the conditions lined up, especially since just the other day, I'd been thinking exactly about me, Chloe, and a family. The thought makes my head spin, just too many coincidences, so I try to steer the conversation back towards what happens next."Okay, so where do we go from here? I mean, we really should get to work. Any thoughts?""We need to get you back to your time. Unfortunately, I don't think I can help with that; for some reason, the energy I used to feel is... gone. You know what I mean? Honestly, I think I'm going to have to go the long way around.""Yeah, I get that; there's this almost subliminal presence that represents the power, right?""Exactly. And it ain't there, Max. Looks like I'll be walking, as they say.""Alright, so, I need to jump. But to where? And when? It can't be after I got captured; Jefferson will remember. What about if I just go to a time just before I went on my scouting mission? I'll still need to get my hands on the computer module, but maybe I can do it in a different manner." I think about this plan, but then it hits me... "Shit! I can't do that, either, because of the paradox.""Like you said earlier, I don't think we can avoid it. On the other hand, this may be exactly the way out we need. Think about it: if I'm immune to rewind, I bet when you jump back to wherever you were, I'll still be here, stuck in 2019."I shrug. Charlie might be right; I hope she is, but it makes me feel like I'm abandoning her."Where will you go?""Arcadia Bay, of course. It's where all the action is going to be, and I'll see you when you get there, Boss. It's a small town, so we'll bump into each other quickly enough, I suspect. I'll try to leave you a message as to where you can find me, or you can always just pop into Two Whales after the lunch rush; I'll make sure to be there each day."It'll be nice to know there'll be at least one team mate on the ground while I summon the rest of the troops. It's as good of a plan as anything."Sounds good. Just be careful, Charlie. As it gets closer to the time, Jefferson, Prescott, and their goons might recognize you.""Don't worry about me, Max. I'm a hella ninja at hiding in plain sight."I laugh a bit because her words remind me about some of the fun Chloe and I had growing up and using our own ninja skills. "You really are part of the team, Charlie. Let's get this show on the road, then."I stand up, putting out my hand to shake the girl's own, but she steps past and wraps her arms around me. Her voice is a little thick with emotion."Thanks again for saving me, Max. I mean it when I say I owe you. I never got the chance to say it to her," she takes a step back and extends her arm and closed fist. "I'll see you on the other side, Boss."I bump her fist with my own.It used to be that to jump, I needed a photo, and that I'd basically inhabit my younger self's body for the interim. But that was just at the beginning. Today, I can still do that, but I don't need an actual picture; all I do is simply grab the snapshot directly from my memory. The coolest part is that I don't seem to be limited to taking over an existing me. I focus on the view I have of Arcadia Bay from before I left for Prescott's facility. The room around me starts to shimmer and fade as a valley view of the Pacific Ocean starts coming into focus."Wish me luck!" I say to my newest team member. I barely hear her reply as everything goes pitch-black, but I swear she repeated what she said earlier: 'I'm sorry...' Whatever that means. When I open my eyes, standing on the deck of my rental house, looking at The Bay, drifting my eyes across the distant surf which gets interrupted by the towers of three condo complexes that have been recently built. A large sign on the facing side says that units can be leased or purchased through Petersen Realty, LLC, and to just 'call Charlie!' Huh, I guess she was right, and I dwell a bit guiltily on the amount of time the woman had to wait to get to this day; six years of life. I wonder what Charlie has accomplished. I continue to scan the horizon, noticing quickly that the shadows and lighting seem somehow different than I recall the last time I stood here, like it is later in the... day... A chill races down my spine, freezing me in place as I realize my mistake.
Oh, fuck, I'm in the wrong time! Jefferson's going to... He's going to remember!!
There's a flicker of bright green, like a laser, and it passes quickly across my gaze, just like before. Everything slows to a crawl, even the leaves fluttering in the breeze seem to go stationary. It's the last thing I recall as an incredibly intense pain, like someone is pressing a drill into my forehead, blooms white hot in my brain while my neck snaps backwards like a whip.The world around me splinters, peels away, then drops to the ground with a loud <SCRAAAAPE!> and a <CLACK!> I'm falling into a vortex of the darkest depths as the place that I've always associated with my powers collapses in on itself, like a black hole in the center of my mind, until very being is crushed out of existence.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Seattle
Halloween 2025
Wowser! It's Halloween in Seattle... Again. This is day four-thousand seven-hundred and... uhm... yeah, I lost count. Honestly, who fucking cares anymore. It's been over thirteen years since my exile to this place, and I regret every single minute of it.
It's not your fault, Max.
No, it isn't, not at first anyway. My parents uprooted me. Okay, I'll be honest, they really didn't have a choice with Dad being let go from work, and the bank foreclosing on the house I grew up in a month later. Even at my young age, it was an obvious setup; Sean Prescott wanted the land, and he had his crooked talons embedded in almost every business in Arcadia Bay to make it happen one way or another. So, we moved away in hopes of a better life, new job, bigger house. Mom and Dad thought their only child would thrive and bounce back from the dramatic change, but they forgot one little bitty thing:I am nothing without my best friend, just like I am now. I'm nothing but a banished pirate marooned on a deserted island. I'm alone and without the possibility of escape.I know I keep circling back on this, but it's difficult not to when I miss Chloe so damn much.The first five years I spent most of my time in my room. It was safer that way, considering the assholes at school would always find a way to ruin the day. I did most of my homework alone, ate dinner alone, and pretty much hid from everyone. My parents kept saying that if I just tried to get to know people that I'd make new friends. So, I tried when I started the new high school, and I met two that at least tolerated me.Kirsten and... Shit! I don't even remember the dude's name. It doesn't really matter. My mind only has a place for one person. And she's dead.I was in my final year of high school when I heard the news. After I lost out getting accepted to Blackwell Academy, back home, I pushed myself and my studies in order to at least show I had some sort of intelligence. The Lake Washington School District had a pretty good arts and photography program, but it was nothing compared to being tutored by a famous artist like Mark Jefferson.Anyway, it was the start of my senior year, and I was getting pretty good marks for a change. The rejection letter from Blackwell had the effect of making me realize I could never go back, that I'd never see Chloe again unless some sort of miracle occurred. While I still have a hole in my heart that can only be filled with my strawberry-blonde pirate captain, I finally stopped living in a past I could never change, deciding instead that I had to make something of myself. So, I worked my ass off with a goal to get through the year and maybe perhaps find my own way back to the Bay. I didn't make it even through the first semester...I saw it on the news. KOMO TV had reporters live and on-site. Arcadia Bay was gone, literally erased from existence. The EF-5 tornado had gouged it off the map as if God Himself had scratched the Earth with his fingernails. Ninety-nine percent of the population was dead. The home of my birth, Chloe's place, and everything I remembered was splinters that sliced through my brain. My best friend was gone. The authorities said that most of the unaccounted would never be recovered... intact, that is. They found Joyce in the ruins that had been the Two Whales; she'd been the most recognizable victim, and her corpse had been splashed all over the television. There'd been a handful of other survivors, none that I knew, including some teen that had been rescued from a bunker. Her name was Victoria Chase. Yeah, daughter of the owner of The Chase Space, here in Seattle.I got interested and followed her story... Apparently, she was witness to the fact that Jefferson had really been a kidnapper and who took fucking psycho pics of trapped girls for the dark web. From the initial reports, at least one of his victims had died, a girl by the name of Rachel Amber, daughter of the local DA.Fuck! As I thought about it for the billionth time, maybe I'd been lucky not to be accepted at Blackwell. The only bright side might have been that both Chloe and I would be dead together.
Chloe.
Well, after the news had died down, leaving only a footnote in the history of the Pacific Northwest, I found myself pretty aimless and lost my motivation to life itself; I knew the space in my heart reserved for Chloe would never be filled, and that meant my ambition and drive was gone. Why get good grades, a job, money, or fame if you couldn't share it with your...
Soul mate.
Yeah, by then I realized my fixation on Chloe was more than just best friends. I was, no, that's not right; I am still completely head-over-heels for her. Even though she's dead.What does that make me: gay, a lesbian, or whatever stupid label other people mandate? I have no idea, and don't really give a crap one way or another. The only thing I do know is that, like I said, I'm nothing without her. If that puts a label on me, fine. Whatever.So, here I am in my shitty studio apartment, wishing I would just die already, but instead, I'm writing this delightful tale in my "memoirs." Have to keep myself busy until the kids show up for trick or treat, right?Anyway, the entire space is about ten feet square. My bed is in the corner, a mattress on the floor that smells faintly like pee and is covered with a thread-bare brown blanket. Opposite that, on the far wall is a vanity with a cracked mirror whose silver backing is starting to tarnish. I have to say, when I look into it, it makes my splotchy mess of freckles truly look like the infection they are. Next to that, a stainless-steel commode to do my business when the need arises. Other than those furnishings, the rest is just the scratched plastic chair I'm sitting on, and the grey steel desk upon which sits an old-school tube TV that constantly shows static; I've pushed the thing to the side so I can write this novel, which is the only emotional outlet I have. For food, I venture to the common room twice daily. On good days, that is.There's not even a clock in here; though keeping time is pretty easy because of "the sound." I've lived in this place for years, and to this day I've never found its source. But like clockwork, a scraping, clacking noise occurs every, well, it feels like an hour. Or maybe it's days...
<Scraaaaaaape! Clack!>
Like an old window or shutter which resists opening, then closing abruptly in just enough time for some creeper to peek inside. That, of course, is impossible. My apartment has no windows, and the front door is a solid piece of metal to keep the bad people outside.Most of the time I can edit "the sound" out of my consciousness, though I'm sure it's invaded my sleep. My dreams are my only escape from this worthless life, and I look forward to closing my eyes at night. Almost always, they involve me and a grownup Chloe on amazing adventures. We've been a pair of pirates on the high seas, high school-aged detectives trying to solve a mysterious missing-person's case, hell, we've even been part of a highly secret spy team going after a human-trafficking ring and a bunch of terrorists. Fuck! We managed to save the multiverse, too, like a pair of damned superheroes. Every time, my dreams feel more like reality than when my eyes are wide open.>Knock knock<The booming echo of the metal door reverberates around my small home, making me pause. Hmm, is it that time already? I wonder what kind of costumes the kids will have. Getting up from my chair, I reach for the bowl of pennies I keep; my version of the swear jar. I don't have any other treats for the kids, so it'll have to do.From the other side of the portal, I can hear laughter and indistinct chatter. The thickness of the metal makes the voices deeper, almost grotesque, when I imagine them coming from the youngsters. But, what the fuck, it's Halloween, right?I reached for the handle and push; surprised that it actually moves at all. Mostly, my door gets stuck shut, trapping me sometimes for days in my spartan room. I complain to the landlord, and they always say they are going to fix it, but it never happens. Again, I don't really give a shit since I’ve got nowhere to go anyway.Light spills in from the brilliantly lit white hallway, making me squint momentarily as my eyes adjust. Lining the sterile walls to my left and right are additional grey metal doorways with numbers next to the frames. Reading the ones across the way, I can see my neighbors 1008, 1010, and 1012; mine is 1011, which is, ironically, the same as the date that destroyed my mind."Trick, Never Treat!" The kids' voices sound garbled, gasping, like they were holding their reeking breath while waiting for me. It looks like they've gone all out this year on their costumes, because even the smell is spot on, meaning awful enough to make me gag. For some reason, the stench is making my heart race, and a chill tingling sensation runs up my spine and concentrates at the base of my skull. Scratchy electricity surges around, like a pair of jumper cables are stabbing into either side of my neck.A hollow, sucking sound makes me turn my gaze slowly to the group of treaters as one of them attempts to speak through an amazingly authentic mask."What do you think of my costume, First Mate?" The rotting air washes over me as I gape at the horrors shambling in front of me. The bowl of coins drops from my limp hands and clatters to the ground, spreading the copper pieces across the floor. It's her! I don't know how it's possible, but I would know her no matter what she's wearing. Chloe is dressed in the rags of a pirate captain's garb. The tatters reveal putrid flesh and bone, oozing with puss. Atop her rotting skull sits the tricorn hat emblazoned with a shining silver skull and crossbones. Her once-blonde hair, what's left of it, seems brittle and the color of mud, tangled and matted as it sticks to bloody tears in her shoulder. As she speaks, a flap of skin detaches and plops on the floor.It's a really damn good costume, enough to freeze me where I stand, unmoving in the door frame; petrified. I can't even make the smallest sound. The temperature in the room behind me plummets, causing stabbing pains through each of my limbs, like icicles being thrust into me. With a shatter of glass, the bulb of my only light blows out."This one's a talker, Chloe." The wheezing sound of the corpse next to her snaps my eyes away from the pirate.Another specter clad in a torn, dirty flannel and ripped jeans takes a step closer. Covered almost entirely in maggots, it is hard to make out much. This thing, I can't call it a person, is about my height. A dry blue feather dangles on a slice of skin that was once an ear. If Chloe smells of death, the other reeks of decaying garbage."I told you, Rach, you'd be best of friends. All she has to do is die."A bony hand presses into my chest where my heart seems to have stopped, and squirming bugs spread out and start to feast on my skin. It pushes me back into my room as the two horrors move inside."After all, you killed us both, and Kate, and Joyce, and Warren. They're all dead because of you." The haunting words are the last I hear as my brain explodes in pain.With a boom, the metal door slams shut behind them. I drown in the darkness as the stinking corpses fold around me...
<Scraaaaaaape! Clack!>
Somewhere in Central Oregon
On the way to Arcadia Bay
Halloween 2025
Morning
"CHLOE!!!!!"
Oh, holy shit-sticks!!!
I stomp on the brakes hard and hold on to the wheel as the truck swerves, its tires screeching on the pavement as I over-correct one way, then the other. The unexpected maneuver is doubly difficult because Max has grabbed onto my right arm and is pulling down on it like an she's attached to an anchor. Her grip is so hard, I can feel her fingernails digging down to my bones. It makes controlling this out-of-control hunk of metal fucking almost impossible.After I finally regain control of the vehicle, I coast to the side of the road. It's a good thing there isn't any traffic. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I see skid marks all over the other side of the two-lane highway."Max, what the hell!?" At first, I'm angry, maybe overly so due to her sudden outburst, but I quickly cool down as I hear the sobbing gasps of my wife. Her head is buried in my elbow, and warm liquid, tears from my best friend, run down it like little rivers to drip onto the seat cushion between us. I wait silently for her panting breaths to slow, carefully running the boney tips of my fingers through her sweat-soaked hair. It takes about fifteen minutes for Max's shaking body to calm down, all the while she keeps repeating the same thing over and over..."It's not my fault...""It's not my fault...""It's not my fault..."Eventually, she stops raving and goes quiet. Her quivering body stills, and the pressure that was crushing my arm relaxes."Bad dream, Babe?"Without looking, my best friend begins going through what she just experienced:"Oh my Dog, Chlo, it was horrible! I was trapped in this place... and... you were dead! I... I never went to Blackwell... never became a photographer... and...""Go on, super-Max, I got you, nothing is gonna get ya. What happened then?"She takes a breath but remains huddled in the bend of my elbow."It was so real! I spent years in the facility; apparently, I went nuts when I learned you died in the storm, and my parents had me admitted to Western State Hospital for evaluation. I thought it was my own apartment! I was totally convinced of it!""Shit! The place they closed down years ago? Fuck, Max! That sounds awful!""That wasn't the worst! You and Rachel showed up... b... but you w... were both dead! You said I had to join you..."I can feel her body tense up again as she relives her dream. I don't say anything, letting her continue at her own pace. She draws another, deeper breath, and lets it out slowly. I continue massaging her head, letting her feel my presence."Sooo glad it was just a dream, Chloe.""Heh heh, yeah... about that, Maximus."She looks up at me for the first time since she awoke, not understanding. The confused look on her beautiful face quickly turns to horror as she takes in my lifeless skull with its single bullet hole in the middle of my pierced forehead; my third eye as it were. Max immediately throws herself across the seat, pulling at the door handle that stubbornly refuses to budge."What's the matter, Babe? Didn't you say you missed me just a few minutes ago?" With a permanent grin on my fleshless head, I reach my fleshless, boney hands towards her.
<Scraaaaaaape! Clack!>
Yakima, Washington
On a dirt road.
Halloween 2025
Morning
"Nooooo!" The scream erupts out with such pressure my throat immediately turns raw. A faint taste of blood at the back of my mouth mixes with the spicy taste of acid. I am still holding onto the locked passenger-side door handle, tugging it and trying to escape.I turn my head fervently in all directions, trying to determine where I am. The only things I see are fields amongst the rolling hills of southern Washington. My memories start reassembling themselves as I sit in silence listening to the pounding pulse in my ears.I'm Max.I'm on a mission to Arcadia Bay, part of a plan to beat Prescott and Jefferson.I'm married to my best friend, partner-in-crime, and badass ex-marine, Chloe Price."Okay, I got this," I say to no one in particular. "It was all a dream." Wowser! One fucking hell of a dream! I wipe my tear-soaked face with my hands, clearing the blurriness from my eyes. Where the hell those images came from, I can't figure; it felt so real, more like a part of a past life. I begin to think about what Chloe told me about her time in captivity, and the thought of being drugged like that takes me all the way back to my time in the Dark Room.
No! That's not gonna happen this time, Max.
>Tick tick tick<I almost jump out of my skin, startled by a light tapping on my side window. An older man in jeans, dusty boots, flannel shirt, and with a John Deere cap on his head is standing outside. I was so busy recalling the nightmare that I failed to see his truck pull up and park on the other side of the gravel farm road. Like a wraith, he seemingly appeared out of nowhere.I roll down the window half-way, still on-edge and a little intimidated. He starts to speak."Beggin yer pardon, ma'am. Didn't mean to give you a fright. Are you okay?" He seems genuinely concerned, and his slow country drawl is patient and welcoming."Y... yes, thanks. I... I must have fallen asleep at the wheel." My memories of waking up earlier that morning confirms it. I've driven miles of theses dirt roads, and apparently the monotony lulled me into a hypnotic-like trance. I was on a sort of autopilot enough to stop the truck and turn off the ignition."Ya, you must have, Miss. I done see y'all drive passed, and then you just stopped. Figured you were lost or sumtin. Took me a while to get back to muh truck to come look-see. You be needin anything? Water? Food? Ella, that's my wife, would feed ya, y'know. Darn good cook, she is." The man pats his belly and smiles. "Wouldn’t be an imposition.""Thank you very much, that's so kind of you to offer. I'm fine, but I have to be at the coast in a couple of hours."The farmer shrugs, in no way taking offense to me declining his generosity. "Well, okay then. I'll let you be." He rubs the stubble on his unshaven chin, then points down the dusty road. "If you're tryin t’get to the highway, your best bet is to head down yonder, about five miles, and hang a right at the big blue silo with grapes on it; that's the Drake vineyard, so jus' keep goin' cuz all these dirt roads begin lookin the same to folk that don't spend years here. You'll go over the irrigation gulley and come up to a stand of Poplar trees. Take a left and then a quick right. That’s Bud Jenkins’ place, but he don't mind us using the field road as a shortcut. It's a little rough but looks like you got a capable enough rig to deal with the ruts. Keep on heading straight and you'll run right into the highway, can't miss it. There's a diner there at the corner, too, if you change your mind and need a bite by then; the next services are about an hour in either direction. You take care, Miss." He pats the roof of my vehicle, then turns to walk back to his beat-up truck."I will, thank you for checking on me." He waves with his free hand as his other grips the door handle, pressing the release to open it.
<Scraaaaaaape!>
He gets into the vehicle and pulls the door closed.
<Clack!>
As he drives off in a cloud of dust, another chill goes through me, as if someone just walked over my own grave. It takes me another fifteen minutes to find the nerve to twist the key and continue my journey.Still wondering where the hell my recent dream had come from, considering how real it felt, I started to reconsider doing this on my own, even though the misdirection is part of our plan. The thought rolls around in my mind, swirling like the dust being kicked up behind my truck. Something, I don't know exactly what, doesn't seem right. It is a feeling like that I've forgotten an important fact, one that is just out of my memory’s reach. Every time I try to recall the details, the phantom of my dreams interrupts my thoughts on an almost subliminal level.
<Scraaaaaaape! Clack!>
More and more, I wish Chloe were here...
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
November 2025
Lake Michigan
I'm sitting in the lounge of this fucking awesomesauce yacht just having a little drink; you know, something to keep the brain running after a hella cool raid on Prescott's business. Adrenaline is slow to come down after an operation like that; I mean, the rush is one of the reasons I love my fucking job, right? So, Rach and I are relaxing with a few margaritas. Like everything else on this boat, the tequila is top-shelf and oh so hella smooth that I’ve been adding floaters to the drinks. Yeah, I admit I've got just a bit of a buzz going on right now, but it's mission accomplished, so why the hell shouldn't I?Still, as I sip from my glass, my thoughts are on Max who's all alone in Arcadia Bay. Hopefully, she got our message, so by now she's probably going all ninja and breaking into the facility that replaced American Rust. We all agreed it was our best bet on gathering intelligence and maybe one of Prescott's quantum thingies. We'd made the distraction, sowing confusion and false signals the best we can. Because we decided on COMMS discipline, none of us will know the dork's status until she either succeeds or does some sort of major rewind. Earlier on our voyage, just after Rach and I boarded, I felt the telltale signs of a couple of little ones, which is my wife correcting minor issues to remain undetected. It was the only evidence that she was on the move. But it's well into evening now, and there's been no news. I guess it's the waiting, one way or another, that's the hardest for me.I push away from the bar top, sliding the chair back until I have room to stand. Next to me, Rachel turns her head away from the almost empty glass and the data pad she'd been quietly typing on."You okay, Chloe?"Shrugging, I lean back on the bar, facing across the salon but not focusing on anything particular. My brain keeps tugging at me, always about Max."Yeah. Just worried, I guess."The blonde laughs into the rest of her drink, shaking her head good-naturedly. "You've never been a patient person. I get it. But, we got the job done in order to give her the best chance. We gotta trust her and the things she can do, just like she did for us. We're all a team, right?"Turning my head, I look into her hazel eyes. They are exactly as I remember, yet with far more experience reflecting back at me. I still have a problem believing my old friend came back after all these years, and deep down there's still that slight feeling that she betrayed me. But what she's saying right now is the literal truth. My thoughts go back to our recent firefight, and I tilt my head towards the hatch that leads outward."That was pretty kickass, huh? I'm glad you're here, Rach.""Hella fun, Chloe. Thanks for having me." She smirks, drains the last of her margarita, and walks around to the other side of the bar to make another. "Now if I can just teach you how to shoot..."She turns to face me, a grin on her face now, and slides a shot glass filled with more tequila towards my waiting hand. Her comment catching me off guard, I'm speechless... so, I lift my clenched fist, leaving the drink on the table, and raise a special finger in response. Laughing like she used to, the woman raises her own glass, toasts me, winks, then slams it.I sigh. Fuck, it's good to have her back, and hopefully she'll stick around after Max gets home. I still to this day believe the three of us will be hella best friends.While I'm woolgathering, Rachel is watching me, quietly placing her empty shot glass on the bar, then placing both her hands flat on its smooth surface."Chloe, trust me. Max will be fine. She's got the experience and talents to handle anything that happens; I could tell the moment we met, and you know I'm hella good at reading people. Look, go outside, get some fresh air, and you'll feel better, 'K?"Nodding, I set my glass down, and head to the door. As I'm twisting the lever open, I turn my head around, watching my friend and teammate pour the ingredients for another drink. "Thanks, Rach.""No prob, hon'. If you want to talk more, Doctor Amber will be right here."Heh heh. She still can make me laugh. We used to tell each other our problems, well... me more than her. Pushing open the hatch, I step out into the evening breeze and mist as the boat continues northward. And ...
<discontinuity>
====Western Canada, near Kamloops
Halloween 2025
The Funny Farm
... And I find myself in the bright daylight of early afternoon, flat on my stomach and peering through the scope of my fifty-cal at the distant smiley-faced target. I wonder which of the two women I'm competing against had the idea to place my target four-times further away than the others.I blink, trying to clear my mind of the weird super-imposed memories of this day and the events I seemingly just experienced on the boat. Taking my eyes away from the reticle, I rub them with a gloved hand, then resume aiming.Rachel's voice yells at me from her firing lane to my left. "Come on, Chloe, shoot for fucks sake!"I can't get the feeling out of my head, and I set my rifle to the side, resting it on its stock and bipod, then set my forehead on the smooth concrete. My mind spins and it's difficult to think; a surge of nausea starts rising from the pit of my stomach.I must have laid there for a couple of minutes, because the range's red light, warning anyone who walked to this side of the Funny Farm that the practice area was hot, turns green. I hear Sloane, quietly come up beside then kneel next to me."Blue, you doing okay?""Something's wrong, Slo." The effort to form words is difficult as my head is all jumbled; it's the worse rewind episode I've ever felt, and its intensity is so bad that I don't even know what day it is. As I take a couple of breaths, Sloane carefully rolls my stiff body onto its back."Chloe, I'm gonna sit you up. Come on, Blue, relax... there you go. No... don't try to get up. Just breathe while Rachel gets you some water."I do as she says, listening almost instinctively to my friend who's also the team's medic."That's right. In... and out... Good. Keep it up, soldier. We got you..."She offers me a chilled plastic bottle, and I sip slowly. As the cool water trickles down my throat, the queasy feeling subsides, and the doubled vision of my memories fades to the background."What... What day is it?" I ask.From my other side, Rachel is also kneeling and wrapping a blood pressure cuff around my arm. Only after turning on the monitor, does she answer."It's Friday, Chloe. Halloween, right?"Now I remember. The three of us were having a friendly shooting match; its practice we do whenever we can, especially just before a mission. It was the first time Rachel was part of our team, and our friendly banter about me not being able to hit the broadside of the barn got everyone laughing at my expense. They'd both taken really good shots, hitting targets at two hundred meters, but either, or most likely both of them decided I'd get some extra distance. Our standing rule has always been that loser pays for drinks afterwards. None of that matters right now, because I also remember the entire next five days..."Dudes! Max just did a hella major rewind, way the fuck past her limits!" Then, as the memories merge into some semblance of order, I realize this isn't the first time. "Holy shit on a fucking stick, guys! This isn't the..." I grab my head to keep it from exploding. Never in the years that I've had my ability to recall the days that Max undoes has it ever been the same memories, over and fucking over! "We've already been through this a dozen... No, way more than that!"It is a secret Sloane, and the rest of the team knows, but Max hasn't completely brought Rachel into the loop yet. And loop is the hella best word to use, because it seems that Max keeps rewinding the last five days: around and around. Honestly, I'm going to have to bring Rach into our confidence, just like I've already done if memory serves. It isn't that we don't trust the woman known as The Raven, but more just because of timing. Max has always made the call whether to let others in on one of our most tightly held advantages over the bad guys. Sure, Rachel knows about some of Max's abilities, at least in a technical sense; she hasn't experienced them like the rest of us have. With my wife heading to Arcadia Bay... or has previously arrived...
Fuck! We don’t even know she’s there anymore!
Anyway, the decision devolves to me. I wait, thinking about whether my old friendship with Rachel is biasing my thoughts; I really do trust her, but I let my mind try to clear and to put aside our history. When the blood pressure cuff comes off, which is time enough, I look at Sloane, who then glances across me to my old friend. Turning back to me, she nods."Bella needs to know, Blue, even if you've already explained it to her a hundred times."I roll onto my hands and knees, then with the two ladies on either side, they help me to my feet. Carefully testing my legs, since I've never had a reaction that strong to a rewind, I head inside with my friends' assistance. We sit down on the couch, and I sink into the cushions and Sloane and Rach do the same across the coffee table from me."Rachel, you know about how Max can undo events, yeah?""Yup, she explained it to me, though it's hard to believe. On the other hand, I've had a lot of weird shit happen to me, so what do I know?""Right, and don't worry, we've got a way to prove it to you, but that's not all. I can remember the events that get unwound."The blonde looks between me, then swivels her head to the woman at her side. Slowly, Sloane's hand makes its way onto and around Rachel's thin fingers, giving them a squeeze. I watch as the woman's lips mouth something to the Chief, who then nods."Yeah, Bella, it's true. Don't blame Chloe for not telling you though. I'd say the two of you are even.""I guess you're right, Slo’."Turning her eyes away from the brunette, I can see my old friend has a bunch of questions, so I put my hands up, indicating a timeout and for her to wait a second; Sloane knows what I'm gonna do, so doesn't say a word. Going over to the bar, I retrieve a dusty bottle emblazoned only with an outline of the Jolly Roger and the words '150 proof.' With three shot glasses in hand, I return, then pour a measure into each. I pick up mine between two fingers and raise it to the women seated in front of me."Rach, the team has a tradition. Max and I have been pirates since we were kids, something you know, and every time either of us leveled up, we'd make a toast, even if it was just a juice box back then. You're leveling up, and that makes you now fully part of not just the team but our little family. We'll all have your back, and we trust that you'll always have ours. The only rule is that there are no more secrets between us; something happens or comes up, everyone is in the loop, yeah?"Knowing Rachel has lived an almost exclusively secret life these past years, I'm not surprised to see her brows dip downward as she mulls it over. Sloane and I wait patiently until her beautiful hazel eyes glance first at me, then pivot back to the woman holding her hand. I've known ever since the Chief and I met in Sicily that the woman had a thing for a mysterious person named, Bella. At the time, neither of us knew who she was. It was another secret and stayed that way until a couple of days ago, when I found out that not only was my old friend alive but was in fact the woman that Sloane meant."No more secrets, Chloe. No more secrets, Slo'""No more secrets, Rach.""Would you believe we got it off a real-ass pirate ship?"Rachel turns to Sloane, who is licking her lips. She smiles, eyeing the bottle as I replace the old cork. "Remember, Bella, the Boss is a real-live time traveler. I didn't believe it either, even after they told me. But the rum really is from 1729. Blue and Max were able to, uhm, acquire quite a supply."The blonde tilts her head, smirking like she used to when she knows the truth."You guys stole it, didn't you?"I place the bottle gently back where I got it, closing the cabinet. Turning, I raise my hands innocently, looking to the sky as if I'm asking for forgiveness. When I don't hear any words from the invisible dude up above, I shrug, then laugh."Of course we did! We wouldn't be very good pirates if we hadn't! Got away, and the dude with the black beard never knew it. We've stashed about a hundred bottles, and a couple of barrels, in one of those wine storage places, which is hella easier than the cavern we hid them in initially. We didn't cheat and just bring them back to the present day, either. Max and I checked on them over the years, and we only lost ten bottles due to bad wax seals.""And they survived all this time? Hundreds of years?""Yup! Once we went all super-secret spy-babes, we figured that we'd need some sort of proof in case we needed to convince anyone. What better way than really fucking old, hella good rum, eh? Get it? Proof? Hahahahaha! I still crack myself up over that one!"Sloane giggles while Rachel rolls her eyes and groans. "God, Chloe, you haven't changed a bit. You're still a dork.""Sure, I have, I'm even more badass than ever!""She's got you there, Bella.""True. Okay, so putting aside your ego, what do we do now? I mean, isn't it that you can almost like see the future? You know what events are going to happen, right?""Sorta. I know a possible future, and that's one rule we do not break. No one talks about any knowledge of upcoming events, not even if it's a life-or-death kinda thing. Paradox is a real problem, and we do not want to fuck with one. That said, Max is rewinding five days over and over, and that is way the fuck outside of her abilities."Like she keeps having to pull the eject lever."I point to Sloane, nodding. "Exactly. Something big happened, but, at the moment, that's all we got. We don’t even know if she’s in The Bay anymore. We're officially on Red Alert, though I wish we could come up with something other than a fucking Star Trek reference. Nevertheless, we all need to be ready to go at a moment's notice. Besides my own prep, I keep my senses open for the telltales of more rewinds, and relay anything I learn to the rest of the team. In return, you dudes just keep me up to date, so if another rewind happens, I can make adjustments to the team's load-out.""That's the standard-op, Bella. What Blue didn't mention is that she's in charge right now because the situation centers around her ability to know when Max is doing a do-over. We take our cues from her."Rachel raises a single eyebrow and shoots me a questioning stare. "And you didn't tell me this, why, Chloe?""Nah, it's no biggie. I just get that you've been your own boss for so long, and ever since I've known you, you've done your own thing. Based on my memories of the Chicago op that hasn't happened yet," I tap the side of my head, reminding them both that I've already been on the mission that we've been planning. "I'd say you've earned your independence. Who knows, in all the retries we've been through already, I think a change in the way we normally do things might give us the edge we need. Plus, you can throw.""Whoa there, Blue, that's just not fair..."Sloane gets this defensive look on her face and silently mouths something about hockey. Rachel just looks back and forth between us, then realizes it's some sort of inside joke between the Chief and I, so scooches a little bit closer to the woman and whispers something into her ear. Wide-eyed now, the Funny Farm's owner nods excitedly, then almost dances away towards her room. Rachel leans back, a smile on her face, then continues the conversation like nothing ever happened."So, like I'd be a random variable?""Uh huh. It's something we haven't tried, yet. Not only that, but these fuckers we're up against have been able to predict our moves pretty accurately, and we're still not sure how they're doing it. So, we're gonna mix it up. Do what you do best. Coolio?""Sounds like a plan, Chloe. When do we start?"I stand, and so does my old friend."Right fucking now, Rach. And do me a favor and bring a big-ass gun!""Heh heh, of course. I never leave home without it!"I watch as the two women ascend the stairway, heading for their rooms with Rachel continuing to the right where the guest suite is located, and Sloane turning the opposite direction after a slight hesitation. I realize it’s well into the evening and can’t stifle my own yawn. Unfortunately, I’ve still got work to do, so I head to the downstairs office where we keep our secure computers and spend an hour typing up all my notes and memories. That way, if something happens, or Maxie rewinds again, each of us will be able to get back up to speed without going through the day’s events. We’ve been through this before, though not in such an extreme manner, where our resident timelord has turned back the clocks a couple of hours multiple times. Now, though, it’s in five-day chunks which makes it imperative that we conserve as much of our own time as possible.When my eyes start blurring, doubling the words on the screen, I figure I’ve done enough and press the save button. On the way back upstairs, I notice all the lights have dimmed or been shut off; it’s probably Sloane’s watchdog, John, doing his rounds. At least I don’t have to go check the perimeter. Turning the corner, I'm just about to head to my own quarters, when my cell phone rings. When I look, the contact information displays: ‘Private,’ so I can’t even tell who is calling. On the other hand, very few people have my private number. Letting the device play its little tune, I turn back from where I was headed upstairs and instead go outside. Pressing the accept button, I put the phone to my ear while pacing the length of the long patio."Uh... Hello?"
"Chloe, is... is that you?"
The tone from the woman on the end seems relieved to get ahold of me, like she knows me.“Who is this?”
"It's Charlie. Oh, thank God! ..."
What’s odd is I don’t remember anyone named Charlie... well, except for the lieutenant I saved when I was in the service. That was way back from before we formed our little band of operators. But those events never happened ever since Max undid them to save my life. On the other hand, the girl’s voice on the phone sounds eerily familiar.
Fuck! There goes getting any sleep tonight...
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Yakima, Washington
On a dirt road.
Halloween 2025
Morning
<SCRAAAAPE!>
...
<CLACK!>I open my eyes to see the dusty road in through the truck's bug-splatted windshield. The sun's rays spread the golden light of the post-dawn morning, illuminating smoothly rolling hills that are either freshly tilled for the winter growing season or are covered in rows and rows of crosswise wooden stands which help keep the grapevines' heavy burden of fruit off the ground until harvested. My memories slowly percolate into my sleepy mind, and with them the recollections of where I am--somewhere in southern Washington. Though I don't remember doing it, or even why I'm here, I must have been running on autopilot and turned off the highway onto this gravel farm road to get some shuteye; the way my muscles are knotted, and aching suggests I fell asleep behind the wheel while sitting up. I didn't even recline the seatback. Nevertheless, if I were to make a guess, I'd say that I got at least five hours.Opening the door, I step out onto the rutted track and stretch my arms as high as I can while arching backwards. After a series of pops and crackles, I shake them out and then begin a little jog down the road to get the legs moving. During my little warmup, I let my mind wander and try to recall what brings me to this place, but no answers present themselves."Maybe a little food will help." I say to myself.It's as good of an idea as anything, and the rumbling in my stomach seems to agree; heck, I suddenly have this yearning for waffles, real maple syrup, and a side of bacon! So, after a few more minutes, I turn around and head back to the truck. With the twist of the key, the 4x4 comes to life with a growl only slightly louder than my appetite, and I'm off to find a roadside cafe.
Two Whales.
Huh, I haven't thought about the diner, Joyce, or Arcadia Bay in ages; not since The Storm changed our lives. I wonder why that just popped into my head. I mean, there's no reason for me to return since... A tear finds its way down my cheek, and I press on the brake to stop the vehicle, then look at myself in the rearview mirror."I still remember you, Chlo'."Not a day goes by that don't think about my lost friend. I miss her so damn much, which is why I've tried to lead a good life. Standing on that rain-soaked cliff, we shared one last moment and I gave her my heart. So, as long as I keep living, she's with me every day. Still, even after all these years, it gets me down sometimes, especially when I think about what she's missed. I decide, as I wipe my eyes, that perhaps I need to visit. Considering I have nothing else on my agenda, why not? The thought cheers me up, and I give myself a little smile, a lopsided one that Chloe used to do so much better. Putting the truck in gear, I continue down the lane, bouncing over divots, and leaving a trail of dust in my wake. Once I've had a bite to eat, I'll figure out where I am, then find my way...... Home.
Portland, Oregon
Columbia View Tower
Halloween 2025
Loop number 4
As has been the usual over the past nights, I can't sleep, which means it's gonna be another Zombie-Charlie day. What's keeping me up, I guess, is the incredibly vivid images that keep repeating in my stupid brain; every time I start getting drowsy, they start again and my attention locks onto them. Though I hate to rely on drugs, I've tried melatonin pills, and a couple of home remedies for sleeplessness, but nothing seems to quiet my mind. Overall, I bet I get about an hour's actual rest each night.I yawn, sit up, and slide out of the bed. Last night, the evening had a nice cool breeze, so I'd left the window open, thinking that it might help but now in only a sleep shirt, the air is more than a little chilly. Goosebumps race up my arms and legs as the warmth of the covers is leached away by the morning air.
Fuck! Cold! Cold! Cold!
Dashing around the foot of the bed and into the bathroom, I step onto the wooly floor mat and wrap the fluffy white robe around my shoulders. The long garment flows all the way to the tops of my feet, and I complete the ensemble by sliding on a pair of matching slippers. Now, at least, I can survive the trip to the condo's kitchen to get the coffee going. Pausing, I look at myself in the mirror above the sink and see myself in the comfortable robe I got from a hotel in Chicago years ago, spectacular Lynnwood Hair that makes it seem like I'm trying to revive the '80s all by myself, and bags under my eyes.I shake my head at the woman looking back at me, and we both agree that while we've looked worse, that had been in a warzone. Today, we're about as awful, only without the blood splatter and bruises."Coffee first, yeah? Then a nice shower." Honestly, if someone was watching me, they'd think I was completely bonkers. But for me, tired as I am, it's refreshing to have someone else, even if she is my reflection, come up with the same idea simultaneously. We each nod to the other, turn, and head out of the bathroom.
<Morning, Charlie. How'd you sleep?>
"Hey, Molly. Mind wouldn't shut down, so I'm walking-dead again today."
<I'll try to keep you from eating anyone's brains.>
I fiddle with the coffee maker, adding fresh beans to the hopper and filling the reservoir. After pressing the power button, the sound of grinding is accompanied by an aroma that fills the room."God, I love that smell, Mol'. It is the second best in the universe."
<Then I guess you're in for a shock, because I finally figured out where we are.>
"Wait, I thought we settled that ages ago. We're in Portland, Oregon, right? The year is 2025 and today is Halloween."
<Yes, everything you say is true, but you forget to ask one question.>
"What's that?"
<Hmm, lemme think... Oh yes. Ahem...>
Her synthesized voice switches over to a pretty good rendition of my own, and I roll my eyes because I know what's coming; even though my AI companion is incredibly intelligent, she has an ego the size of Jupiter. When we first met, I thought the little computer was crass and self-centered, but soon I realized her attitude was just a curious and unique blend of sarcasm in humor she'd developed over an impossibly long time. Molly uses her wit to poke fun at me, like good friends do, but also to deal with her insecurities, her biggest of which is her lack of confidence when she doesn't have all the answers. I suspect this is exactly what's going on right now.
<Hey, Mol'. We just got through another jump. Which UNIVERSE are we in?>
The voice switches back to normal, except with a heavy southern accent she's never done before.
<Well, golly gee, Charlie! I'm as lost as a city-slicker that just stepped out of the township. I needs yer halp, y'see, cuz you APES are so much smaah'ter thun lil 'ol me. What would ah do w'out ya?>
Oh lord!!!
I can't help but laugh and wonder for the zillionth time where she gets it from. Her jibe at me, and the rest of humanity, has the intended effect, and the fatigue I'm feeling vanishes like I've just downed an extra-hot, triple-shot, venti latte with a double-espresso chaser. Whew! Now that'll set anyone's nerves on fire! Speaking of which, the coffee is done, so I pour myself a full mug with a splash of heavy whipping cream, then seat myself on a stool behind the breakfast counter. All the while, Molly's little speaker is filled with hilarious laughter."So, we're really in a completely different universe altogether? I thought only Des could do that."
<This is different. It's not just 'any' ordinary universe. We seem to have jumped our way into a pocket one. I doubt even Destiny would risk something like this unless it was The Only Option Left. But that's not the worst of it.>
I sip at my coffee and remain silent, waiting for my computer-friend to continue. Yet, when my cup runs empty, and she still hasn't said anything, I get the feeling that she's worried."Okay, Molly, so what's the bad news, then? You and I both know how you get sometimes. What are you protecting me from?"
<It's collapsing, Charlie, slowly but surely. There is a distinct boundary, a length of time that's about five days long, and then it loops back. We've already gone through three of them, and the increments are getting slightly shorter each time. Eventually, as you know, entropy will win.>
Whoa! Really? Okay, that's big-time bad, and it explains Molly's reluctance to say anything."And you didn't want to say anything because you can't figure out how to get out of this. It's because I can't control when I jump, isn't it?"
<Correct. Back before your time, when I was with Des, we dealt with similar situations. In that case, we could remove ourselves from it as needed. I've been trying to figure out a way to force you to jump, but I haven't come up with anything. Sorry.>
And there it is, just like I thought. She's lacking confidence, and it's conflicting with the ego that is the main part of her identity. And there's only one way to snap her out of it, because if what Molly says is true, we're both gonna need to work the problem."Knock it off, Molly. You have nothing to apologize for, and you know it! Or would you rather just wallow in the fact that you are not all-knowing? We're still here and alive, so let's just drop the self-pity and fucking figure it out together. Tell me what you do know, okay?"I get up and refill my coffee cup while the AI remains silent. When I'm seated again, I continue, though in a much more casual tone."What have you always told me, Mol', about big problems? Break it down, right? Solve one issue, then move on to the next, then the next, and so on. So, to start, let's lay out what we know: We've jumped into a loop of time, I can't sleep, and I can't remember repeating each iteration. Let's start with the first one, maybe it's a piece of the puzzle. The pocket universe is a loop in time. What causes something like this? You've got way more experience than I do."
<Paradox, conflicting moments in time where effect impacts its own root cause. It's basically the same as stating that mathematics is infallible, before realizing that dividing by zero, or calculating the square root of a negative number makes the entire system take a messy dump all over itself.>
"Gross! There's an image I don't want to think about, but I get your point. And we just happened to jump in? Okay, so about that, usually I arrive in places where I'm needed. Do we have any evidence that this isn't the case this time?"
<None at all, in fact I'd say quite the opposite considering you can't remember looping like you normally do. That suggests the situation that evolved into this bubble of space-time is somehow intertwined with your abilities. Honestly, we need more information than we have in order to discover the source. Tell me again about the images that keep you up at night. They may be important.>
In my mind I try to sort the snapshots, but there's just none of them is distinct enough to create consistent flow from one to the other. So, I describe what I see as I recall each evening's struggle to sleep. The visions often start on the same gravel road in the middle of nowhere. I mean, how can you describe a rutted dirt track any differently from the billions of others, right? In the scene there's usually a pickup truck, a tee-intersection, and a blue silo. Sometimes I'm seeing things from the side of the roadside, while other times it's from right behind the vehicle, like I'm playing a video game. On occasion, there's a roadside choke-and-puke, a gas station, and even a highway's truss-bridge that spans a river. When I'm finished, my electronic companion asks a question.
<Is it always the same driver? Do you know who it is?>
"I'm fairly sure it's the same person, but I'm usually watching from behind. She, definitely a she, is a brunette, shorter than me."
<But you don't know her?>
I scrunch my eyes closed, trying to go through each image one at a time. There's this one, where I'm like on a large overpass or bridge, one with large metal braces overhead. It's really foggy, so everything seems to fade quickly into the greyness. In it, I see the same pickup truck emerging from the mist head-on, and behind the wheel I get a glimpse of the dark-haired woman's face: small nose, wide blue eyes like they're surprised, and a dusting of freckles on her cheeks. I don't know why I didn't remember these details, but I absolutely know who she is..."Oh my fucking God, it's Max!"
<Caulfield? Are you sure?>
"No way I'm wrong, it's totally her. How could I have missed that, Mol'?"
<Probably fatigue; you said it yourself that you've not been sleeping well. But now we have one piece of the puzzle. I think we can conclude all your visions are about Max. Honestly, I'm not surprised considering her own abilities, but this is the first time I've seen her stuck in a paradox. I wonder if it involves Chloe; you and I know how protective she is of her partner. The woman takes the word 'dedication' to new levels.>
"Well, that's certainly true enough. Maybe Max needs a hand, and that's why we're here."
<It would explain a lot, however I bet anything you want to wager that it's more complicated than that. For example, we don't have any explanation for why the woman is here all by herself. Where's Chloe? Why do you not see her in any of the dreams you've had?>
"More questions than answers." I shrug, gulp down the tepid remnants of my drink, then place the cup into the dishwasher. I turn back to the little device on the countertop. "But I guess we'll just have to find out as we go. First, this we need to do is track down where she is, and where she's going. You have any ideas?"
<The best way is to track down the vehicle she's in. You don't just happen to have a license plate number, hmm?>
I shake my head. "Nope. Reading while dreaming has never worked for me. I can, however, describe the truck in detail. You think you can do a records and traffic camera search?"
<Of course. If we can locate it in two different locations, we might be able to predict where Max is headed.>
With that, I start going through every image of the pickup Max is driving, dictating each detail to Molly, no matter how small. Her tiny screen being too small, the big flat panel on the wall comes switches on, and Molly puts each of the pieces together. Slowly, the rotating 3D model magically evolves into an exact replica of what's in my head. The fact that the AI can access every single online parts catalog for all the major manufacturers and aftermarket dealers is a huge help in whittling the absurd amounts of combinations to... a single one."That's it, Mol'. That's Max's truck. Now put it on a gravel road surrounded by rolling hills and fields. There's a large, dark blue silo in the distance that has a logo on it. The graphic is shaped like a bunch of grapes, but I can't read the words underneath."
<I have an idea about that logo, considering its rural setting. Take a look at these...>
A number of different designs flick onto the screen, pausing for a couple of seconds before moving onto the next. None of them seem quite right, at least not from the hazy distance I seemed to be seeing it from in my memory. Another graphic disappears, replaced by a different one; my eyes are starting to glaze over. When the next design appears, my mind pops directly to what I remember."No, wait! Go back one!"The image changes to a stenciled outline of a bunch of grapes with vines extending to the left and right. There's no way I'm mistaken; it's the one I've seen before."This one, Molly. Put a dark background on it... Yeah, like that. Total match! Where is this?"
<Yakima in south-central Washington. It's registered as a trademark of one, Thomas Drake, and supplies a number of different wineries across the Columbia Valley. Sounds like we have a starting point.>
"Fuck, yeah! Can you bring it up on a map?The big screen in the living room changes to a satellite view of the region, showing a little pushpin indicating the location."Awesome! Now, are there any traffic cameras in the area? Obviously, I don't expect the farm-roads to have any, but..."
<Actually, you'd be surprised. A lot of the later generation farmers make use of a ton of technology, including video and still-motion cameras to protect their lands, livestock, etc. Many of them use services run by John Deere and others and are all interconnected. But in this case, it's even easier.>
"How so?"A full wikipedia-like page pops up on the big screen display.
<Well, Thomas Drake, known as 'Big Tommy' to his friends at the local grange, is a fourth-generation farmer. Not only does the man have a master's degree in agriculture, but also holds a business degree from Harvard. When his father passed away five years ago, Junior took over the farm. One of the first things he did was lease space on the tallest structure in the area to build more positive cash flow. His silo hosts cell phone antenna from every major and minor provider and... Wow, that's a pretty nice nest-egg he's building from the income! Nevertheless, guess who can hack into the records to see which phones were in the area. Go on... have a guess. Heh heh.>
I already know the answer, but since we're friends, I play dumb."Uh... I have no idea, Mol'. I'm just a stupid ape; I don't know what I'd do without you."
<Touche', smartass! Heh heh. Well played, Charlie. Yes, I have the records, and it just so happens there's a single device that seems to be out of place. It's an iPhone, and it's IMEI is registered with a provider out of Kamloops.>
"Where the fuck is...?"
<I thought the same thing. Kamloops is in Canada, so it didn't make sense to me either until I started checking the cameras at the border crossings. A vehicle matching Max's passed through a day ago at the Osoyoos checkpoint as was the exact cell ID match. Except for a little jog on Interstate 90, it's an otherwise straight shot to Yakima, Washington wine country, and Big Tommy's vineyard. Unfortunately, we're at the start of the loop again, so we don't exactly know where Max is going.>
"Then we need to intercept her. I have images of a diner in my brain."
<Yes, we should attempt to make contact, and the diner is super-easy now that we know where Max is starting from. There's a mom-and-pop place called 'The Pancake Corral,' and it's just five miles from where you first see her. I suggest we start there and try to convince Max that she needs our help.>
"And what if I miss her? I mean, from here to there isn't exactly just around the block."
<We do it again on the next loop. I believe the images you're seeing are fragmented memories of different attempts. We just keep trying until we succeed or run out of time. While that might seem morbid, if the clock runs down, neither you nor I will care much afterwards.>
"Let's not go there, Mol'. We're not beat yet. Just help me remember things so we don't waste what time we have left going through this all again."
<Will do, Charlie. I suggest you pack for, as you say, 'anything.'>
Leaving the little computer on the countertop, I duck back into the bedroom to get dressed...
Portland, Oregon
Columbia View Tower
Halloween 2025
Loop number 57
My brain, still fuzzy with fatigue, is nonetheless jolted by the sudden sound of Molly's alarm. Reaching over to knock some sense into the computer that just had to wake me after I'd fallen into a deep sleep for the first time in what feels like years, I poke at the screen with an index finger. Thankfully the airhorn-like noise quiets but leaves my ears ringing. I pull my arm back under the warm blanket, so of course my little AI friend sounds another quick blast, only louder.
<Charlie, I'm sorry, but you need to get up. We have work to do.>
I peek out from under the covers and see that it's 4:22 in the fucking morning."Come oooooon, Mol'! I haven't slept like that in ages. Just a few more minutes. Pleaaaaaaase?"
<Again, I'm sorry, but you have to get your ass out of bed right now. Then I need to catch you up as quickly as possible.>
The urgency in Molly's voice means something important is going on, and I begin to get the feeling that I need to take her seriously. I wonder if it has to do with the dreams I've been having. I let that thought roll around in my head as I slide out from under the covers."Okay, Mol', you've gotten my attention. What's so important that you have to wake me this early in the morning?"The little AI sighs, a sound that suggests that my electronic friend is a bit exasperated with the situation too, so I start my morning routine while she explains.
<Firstly, Charlie, you've got to trust me. Everything I'm going to tell you is the truth, not that I can lie worth beans anyway. Nevertheless, it'll shock you, and so just remember not to panic too much.>
Panic? Why would I...
Spitting the toothpaste out of my mouth, I rinse, then lean backwards through the bathroom door to ask."You're starting to make me worried, Molly. Why don't you start at the beginning, hmm?"She does, though the voice out of her speaker as I slip on a pair of khaki cargo pants, is mine, and she's addressing me."Charlie, yeah, it's me. Molly and I figured this is the most efficient way to get you up to speed considering we keep forgetting. Since her memory storage is not erased when things start over, we've recorded this message. Here's the deal, Babe: We're stuck in a time loop, it's five days long, but it's getting a tiny bit shorter each reboot. We're getting closer, but we still don't know where Max is headed. Molly can explain all the details, but right now you gotta get your ass on the road headed east. So, grab your socks, some coffee, and your backpack. Oh, and Charlie... bring the guns, too; we might need them."
<Now you get the picture, right? That's why I woke you so early. Coffee is already made, but we've got a couple of hours drive ahead of us if we're going to intercept Max.>
"We are talking about Max Caulfield, right?"
<The one and only. I'll fill you in while you drive. I suggest taking the Tahoe this time; the tank is full, and we won't miss her because we're stuck at a charging station. That's what happened on the last do-over.>
I nod, then shrug into a dark brown flannel. After pulling my shoulder-length hair out from under the garment, I tie it back with a band, then kneel and reach under the bed for the long, black hardcase that has my additional guns: one tactical, and a long-range rifle. With that, I've got everything I need for the trip since my backpack and boots are by the front door already. So, I step into the kitchen, pour coffee into a travel mug, and I'm ready for whatever happens."Anything else I need to know?" I ask as I clip Molly on my bag.
<Nothing that I can think of. I mean, we've done this so many times already, but I have a feeling this one is going to be different.>
Lacing up my boots, I pause and look at the little computer's display. On it, there's a little pixel art graphic of a woman shrugging and a bunch of question marks above her head. Intuition, even for an AI as advanced as Molly, is difficult for her. I get that... it sometimes doesn't make sense to us humans either."Gut feeling, huh? I wish I could feel it from your perspective, all things considered."
<Yeah, considering I don't have a gut. It's a weird feeling that I can only describe as being on the verge of a breakthrough or discovery; there's anticipation and a bunch of other emotional shit. Even to this day, I don't know how you people deal with it.>
Finishing my boots, I throw the backpack over my shoulder, heft the case, and step out of my condo, closing the heavy mahogany door quietly so I don't wake the neighbors."Sometimes we don't, Mol'. But in this situation, I'd trust your instincts any day."The computer doesn't respond since, as I turn down the hallway, my neighbor across the way opens her door. She's a sweet retiree and grandmother who was the floor’s chief gossip. The woman, Grace, means well, even if she is extremely nosy.“Morning, Gracey.”“And to you too, young lady. Going on a trip?” The old woman glances at my bags.As far as she knows, I am a research engineer for the Bonneville Power Administration, a branch of the US Department of Energy. It is as good a cover as any and explains why I often leave home at weird hours of the day. Gotta get out in the field, and work on the hydro projects in the western states.“Sure am. Have to drive out east, there's an issue on one of the dams. Don't worry, Gracey, I'll try to have them keep the lights on for you.”“Thank you, child. Herman gets so frightened of the dark.”Sipping my coffee from its travel mug, I nod in an understanding manner. To me, though, how her cat can be afraid of the dark is way over my paygrade, but I've seen stranger things. Shrugging, I politely disengage from the busy-body woman, picking up the case beside my feet.“Got to run. I'll probably be gone for a week. Keep an eye on things while I'm gone, k?” I am only half-joking; her nosiness does have its uses and makes her almost better than a security guard.The woman smiles, happy to help. She's got a key to my place if it's needed. “Drive safely, Charlene.”I roll my eyes but return the smile. Why does everyone keep calling me that? Starting to walk away, I wave at the woman. “Jeez, Mrs. Collins, when you call me that, it makes me feel like I'm in trouble.”“I'm sorry, dearie, just an old habit. Heh heh. Have a safe trip, Charlie.”By the time I hear her door close, I'm already entering the elevator on my way down to the parking garage.
Later in the morning
We are just driving over the bridge at Umatilla, crossing the Columbia River, and heading North towards Richland, Washington. It's exactly at this point, about mid-span, when Molly startles me almost completely out of my skin, announcing that she's been able to pinpoint Max's current location.
<STOP!!!>
Did I mention the tiny computer does this at around a hundred decibels? No? Must have slipped my mind. Reflexively, I slam on the brakes, fishtailing across the pair of double lanes and leaving a wide pair of black stripes across the deck. A sickening feeling creeps up my throat from the pit of my stomach, and as adrenaline fills my veins, the events outside slow to a crawl. Images of my life flash in front of me while I'm pointed directly at the guardrail; this might be the end of the road, literally. My thoughts go to Mom, Sis, Des, Max, all the other amazing people in my life... and Dad... Would I see him again? Is he waiting for me in the beyond?My memories recall the last time I'd seen him, one year after I'd gone off on this time-tripping adventure. He handed me a birthday card, kissed me on the forehead, and reminded me how proud he was of what I accomplished, and that he was still a little jealous. A month later, he was gone. I still remember his words; if I get out of this, maybe I'll post them for everyone to see... [link to holiday cards]Everything speeds up in a dizzying swirl as the truck hits the barrier and spins around. The forces play with my inner ears and the queasiness becomes almost unbearable. All I can do is hang on to the steering wheel and ride it out; there is no way I am going to regain control and fighting it could make things even worse. I close my eyes tightly, pushing back against the vertigo...>Thump!<The sensations come to an abrupt halt, the vehicle bouncing and swaying on its suspension, and for the moment, the only sound is that of the engine idling; the smell of burnt rubber permeates the cabin, making me gasp for air. I peek open one eye, then another. Thick smoke from the truck's slide surrounds me, leaving Molly and me isolated and alone; we can't see through it, which makes it look like the portion of bridge we were on is disconnected from the rest of it and hanging unsupported in mid-air. I'm all the way on the opposite side of the road and am pointed directly into oncoming traffic head-on. I glance down, having a bird's eye view of the river a hundred feet below. There's a barge just passing underneath, and while soft-looking from here, the piles of grain it's carrying will feel and act like solid concrete should my vehicle go over the edge. Quickly, I divert my attention to what's in front of me, and the clouds of smoke are whipped and swirled as unsuspecting cars swerve and zoom past. Most are blaring their horns, and a couple give me the finger as they pass. A semi-trailer rig rocks my truck as it screams past, dragging most of the smoke in its wake.The road is suddenly clear of vehicles, as much as I can see through the remaining haze that is. Gulping for air, I look at the little AI’s glowing screen. Molly ought to be thankful that I can't peel my fingers from their grip on the wheel. Friend or no, I really want to toss the little asshole in the drink and let her sit at the bottom of the Columbia for a couple of weeks.“What. The. Actual. FUCK!! Molly????”
<Wait for it, Charlie...>
I don't have time to think about what she means. A pickup truck, a late model one that I know from my dreams and Molly's briefing, drives slowly out of the remaining smoke and pulls up to my side. The lone driver, a woman I would know from any universe, rolls down her passenger window, then leans towards me. With a shaky hand, I press the button that opens my own.“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She is just as considerate as I remember, always looking out for others. “I... uh,” she continues, a confused look crossing her lightly freckled face, “d... do I know you?”“Y... yeah, Max. You do.”Everything goes still, and I feel like I am being pulled down a sink's drain even if there is no possibility of me ever fitting through the pipes. The world twists, bends, and darkness surrounds me...
Portland, Oregon
Columbia View Tower
Halloween 2025
Loop number 58
“Fuck!!!”I throw myself out of bed, the memory of my body being sucked into the small but powerful vortex fresh in my mind. I hit the wooden floor on my side, knocking my head onto its cold, unyielding surface.“Ow!”
<Charlie, how you doing? It helps if you have something to drink that will replenish your electrolytes. There's a bottle of sports drink in the fridge. Grape, I think.>
“How the fuck do you know how I feel, Mol? You're not even human. God damn, I hurt...”
<I spent about a million years with Destiny, remember? I think I know a thing, or two about uncontrolled time jumps and its physiological effects on the human body.>
“This wasn't like the other times... usually there’s almost no sensation except maybe me being a bit unbalanced. Nothing like what just... uhm...” I stop, remembering Max pulling alongside the truck. Everything else was like a B-grade nightmare; hardly believable, yet here I am.“Holy fuck! I remember! All of it! Oh shit! How many times have we done this? And... And that was Max! How the hell did she find us? I mean, we were supposed to be looking...” I sit up too quickly, and a wave of nausea twists my stomach into grotesque balloon animals. “Urp... ohmygodimgonnapuke!!”Crawling on my hands and knees as fast as my spinning head will allow, I stumble and bump my way to the toilet. I almost make it, leaving a trail of rancid stomach acid behind me, and down the front and across the sleeve of the flannel top I use as a nightshirt. Convinced I am not only going to die but going to do so in repeating agony for the rest of existence, I hang my head in the bowl wishing for the heaving to pass.Honestly, I am too busy to count the seconds, so I have no idea how long it lasts. Eventually though, my body’s reaction to the surprise jump subsides, leaving me soaked in sweat and shaking like a dry Autumn leaf on a stormy night. Still only having the strength to crawl, I drag myself into the shower stall, reach up with a shivering arm, and crank the water on full, setting the temperature to just below incinerate. Flopping back against the far wall, I let the streams of searing liquid pour onto my partially clothed body. The steam billows around me, filling the entire room; inhaling it soothes my burning throat, even though the mist smells slightly like puke.The scent churns my gut again, so tugging at the now soiled and clinging flannel, I finally find the motivation to undress, throwing my clothes into the corner with a splat. Grabbing the body wash, the effort to stand is still too much, and I flop onto the teak seat and lean over, holding my head in both hands to keep it from splitting in two. A few minutes later, I lather up, rinse, and otherwise wash myself until I am satisfied that there is no remaining vomit. Gross!Drying off, I wrap myself completely in a pair of oversized, fluffy towels and walk back into the bedroom to find something to wear.
<Feeling better, Charlie?>
“Much. God! Don't let me go through that again! What the hell happened?”
<The best I can tell is that Max recognized you, and some sort of defense mechanism kicked in caused an uncontrolled jump; Destiny used to call it glitching. It happened so quickly, I only have rudimentary readings, so it's just a guess. On the other hand, remember when I suggested that your actions and hers are somehow mixed up in all this? The reaction, if it is a way of protecting Max, is the best evidence we have to support the hypothesis.>
“But, if we're supposed to break her out of the loop, how are we going to do that without her recognizing me? I mean, I can't just start talking about time travel and... Hang on... What's that?” I pause, waiting for Molly to respond and shake my head. In my ears, a sound repeats, almost too faint to hear; maybe it's just my imagination... There it is again! I've been too busy feeling like warmed-over roadkill to pay any attention to it, but now I realize I've been hearing it since I startled myself awake.“And what the heck is that sound?”
<What sound? Can you describe it?>
“It's... It’s like a sliding door, you know... the ones you see leading to a patio? But... one of its rollers is jammed, so it's dragging on the metal track. Then... it slams shut...”
<Like this?>
The AI goes silent for a couple of seconds until a hideous noise comes out of her speaker.
<SCRAAAAPE! CLACK!>
“Holy shit, that's it! How the fuck... I mean, it's exactly what I hear. So, it's not all in my mind?” I shiver and put my hands into the front pockets of the fleece hoodie I put on. “It creeps me out... uh... like I'm being watched, or..." I hug myself to try to control another round of shivers. "... I have a really bad feeling about this.”
<Well, I sense it on a different level. If I go back in my records, it seems to have started in the iteration two loops ago. I don't have any explanation for it, except perhaps to suggest that we might be getting closer to getting Max out of this mess. It could be some sort of bleed-through from outside the pocket bubble we're in. Oh, and yes, we seem to be back to day one.>
“Damn! I was hoping the glitch or whatever it was would pop us out of there. We're back to square one?"
<Not quite, Charlie, the situation has changed. For example, even though uncontrolled, you jumped for the first time in over a hundred days, from the point of view of your own personal timeline that is. And you remember all the iterations. That will make our actions so much more efficient since you don't have to relearn everything that's come before.>
“And if it's happening to me, then it could be happening to Max. Maybe we can convince her to break out of it on her own. I mean, without her figuring out who I am, right?”<That's a good course of action. But that means we have to get going, right now. I figure the best time to intercept her is in the morning, maybe during breakfast. She'll be fatigued and that will work to our advantage. Grab your stuff, and let's jet... I'll make sure you don't get noticed by any state trooper.>“Oh yeah, baby! Pedal to the metal!” I grab my wallet, keys, case, and bag, just like before, not bothering with coffee. We are still in the very early hours of the morning, about four hours earlier in fact. I can grab some food and drink at the 'Gear Jammer', the truck-stop near the highway. Then I'll pour it on, letting Molly do the navigation.Locking my apartment door, I head quietly down the hallway, not wanting to get intercepted by the almost-always-awake Gracey. Don't have the time to spare this morning.
Yakima, Washington
On a dirt road
Halloween 2025
Morning
Images of a pickup truck stuck on the wrong side of the bridge flash through my sleeping mind. It could have been so much worse, at least that's the impression I get from the foggy recollection. Just fragments of a dream, really, it doesn't make much sense. Neither does the feeling that something is out of place or not quite right. I don't have lucid dreams very often, and this latest was wilder than most... and broken. Thankfully it all faded to black and there was...... silence...Shapes and sounds blur in as I open my eyes. The seat presses against my back, while the sound of the truck’s engine idles smoothly. I am on a dusty gravel road, a tee-intersection with a large blue silo. I get the feeling that I nodded off while driving, and for a moment, the thought makes me wonder if I should pull over and get some real sleep. This place looks vaguely familiar, though I don't know why. Have I been here before?Looking at my phone, I see that it is the end of October 2025, Halloween. The morning is clear and quiet, and I wonder not for the first time how I got to this out-of-the-way place. Wherever it is.Shrugging, I check both directions to make sure the rural road is clear; unsurprisingly, there's not another vehicle in sight. I turn to the right, though left would have been just as good. I honestly don't know where I'm supposed to be going, just that I have a journey ahead of me.A weird sense of déjà vu hits me... like I've done this before, and it makes a slice of my dream pop into my head; the vision of the girl sitting in a stalled vehicle on the wrong side of a bridge. The feeling grows, and almost by reflex I repeat the words I spoke.“Do I know you?”“Yeah, Max, you do...”Weird... I don't know what to make of it. I’m certain I haven't been wherever that place is, and I know for a fact I've never met the woman either. Still... the feeling clings to me like the dust on the sides of my truck. I drive on, wondering, as another sound echoes in my head...
<SCRAAAAPE! CLACK!>
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
South Central, Washington
Halloween 2025
Morning
I stand next to the gas pump, my finger hovering over the keypad as I try to remember the debit card PIN. The scratched plastic in front of the display reflects my face, distorting it and making me almost not recognize the woman that looks back at me. I can't explain why I'm having problems with my memory. I mean, I feel just fine, but it's like sometimes it's like I know something, but I simply can't put it into proper words or thoughts. Have I always been like this? Maybe that's just who I am. I blink, refocusing my attention on the numbered buttons, and like magic, my finger types in an unfamiliar code.I shrug. "Well, that's one mystery solved."After inserting the nozzle, then squeezing the trigger, the spicy scent of gasoline fumes tickle my nose. Everyone calls me weird, but I kinda like the smell. For some reason it reminds me of something, or someone. I dunno.While I'm waiting for the fill-up, I let my eyes travel across the lonely county road I've been following, propping my head with my arm on the rear bed of my pickup truck. The diner across the way seems way out of place; its retro look doesn't match the rural area. Its old-fashioned, flickering neon sign says the place is open for business even at this early hour of the morning for dine-in customers. Another equally retro sign above a walk-up window is lit as well, though it seems to have dropped the letters 'r' and 's', which makes me giggle.Heh heh. The 'O DER ' window is pretty appropriate considering the 'odor' of fresh-cooked bacon wafting from the place. Curiously, I can almost smell the weirdest scent of iron, like when I used to after I’d had a nosebleed. The mixture of the two smells is oddly alluring, though I'm not sure why. Heck, I haven’t had a problem with my nose or monster headaches in years, at least not since I started taking a seriously disciplined approach to using my powers.
Max, what the hell are you talking about? Powers? You're not ten anymore, you're not a superhero.
Righhhht... Heh heh! Dog! Oh, to be ten again, running around the neighborhood playing pirates with...with...My head starts to ache as I try to recall a friend I used to know. However, no matter how much I push, their name eludes me. It started with a... 'C.' Yeah, that was it! I wonder what they are doing right now.Shrugging, the fragment of memory fades to grey and dissolves in my mind. Still staring at the restaurant across the street, I realize I am kinda hungry, so I may as well take advantage of the it’s convenience. Seriously, I could really do for a waffle, bacon, and some blazing hot coffee.
>Click<
The nozzle automatically stops filling. Perfect timing! All this thought of food awakes the beast that resides in my stomach, which is beginning to complain loudly enough to make me look around to see if anyone hears. Luckily, no one is around; that would be hella embarrassing.
Hella? Where do I come up with this stuff. Who talks like that anymore? Maybe I'm just in a silly mood today.
Finishing up, I replace the gas cap, put the pump back in its place, and rip the scrolled-up receipt from the machine. As I'm stepping back into the big truck, I lift my head above the roofline and stare at the diner once again.A sense of déjà vu surrounds my entire being, like a chilling fog. Why does this seem so familiar? Have I been here before? I stay there, chin onthe top of the vehicle while I try to remember, thinking about and recalling bits of my journey so far.
>grrrrahhhhhrrrBACONrrrrrrawllllrrrr!!!!<
I look down at my impatient and always-demanding stomach, poking it with my finger while shaking my head. "Okay, okay, I get it!"Getting into the truck, I drive the hundred or so feet across the two-lane highway and park. Gotta listen to 'The Boss', and it's better to eat before my stomach decides to do so on its own. Images of a huge monster nom-nomming up the Chicago skyline flip across my mind.
Heh heh! Yup! I'm in a seriously silly mood, but why the Windy City?
Pondering this question, I blink and find myself standing in front of the glass door like a dork with my outstretched hand on the grab bar. Sheesh! It’s like I have the attention span of a confused gnat.'Pancake Corral.' It's a nice name. The rustic eatery is well-kept, its building nicely maintained other than the signage. I don't know if I've ever told you this, but in the hometown where I grew up, we had our own local diner like this one. If I could remember what its called, I'd totally recommend it to you whenever you pass through... Uhm... Huh... Okay, so anyway for me at least, it is nice to see another family-owned business that hasn't been run out of town by fast food joints and restaurant chains. I have really fond memories of the place and always enjoyed breakfast most of all.As I step through the swinging glass door, which causes a little bell to ring, I try to recall the name of the diner back in Ar... Arcadia Bay... Oh my dog! I remembered! Woooo!!! Yeah, that's the place! Unfortunately, the ever-present noise in my ears distracts me again from remembering the place where I used to eat.
<SCRAAAAPE!>
...
<CLACK!>
Weird. Why can't I remember its name? Me and uhm... C... used to eat there every single day, and multiple times during summer break. I think I’ve been having memory problems for a while, but just like the diner back home, I don’t recall the reason. Have I said this before? Maybe it has something to do with the headaches I’ve been having... though I’m feeling fine right now. I said that too, didn't I?Shrugging, I make my way down the small entryway, where I am met with a sign that says I can seat myself anywhere. Given the time of day, there's probably only a cook and a server on the clock, so choosing a seat helps them concentrate on their jobs without becoming distracted. It was the same back in Arcadia Bay. J... Joy... Uhm, the service woman usually let folks pick where they wanted to sit too.
Oh! That rhymes! Wait... What was I doing? Oh, yeah: find a seat. Gotcha! It must be my silly streak that's going on right now, because I giggle when I say the rhyme three times around. Anyway, Max, grab a seat so we can get some noms!
Looking around the empty room, where a dozen tables stand and booths run along the perimeter, I decide to pull up to a stool at the countertop that separates it from the prep and cooking areas.A young woman comes out from behind the swinging door to the back area. While she isn’t dressed like a waitress but instead has a leather jacket over a t-shirt and khaki cargo pants, she greets me while providing a plastic menu. The smile she has on her face is as friendly as I expect from small-town locals. The girl has her light brown hair pulled back, but I can tell it is long enough to go down to her shoulders. Is that important? When I look at her, get a weird feeling that we've met, but then the girl places a cup in front of me and holds an urn of dark, aromatic liquid. Every thought except coffee vanishes from my stupid-silly brain in an instant."Yes, please." I tip my head towards the mug, and the nice woman pours it almost to the rim. After wiping a couple of drips from the surface of the counter, she turns to place the coffee pot back on it's warmer, then pulls a little notepad from the zippered pocket of her jacket like she wants to take my order.“Good morning! What can I get'cha, ma'am?”“Wowser! Do I really look that old?”
Or maybe I am. Again, I dunno...
The woman giggles in reply as she waits patiently for me to scan through the laminated single page of the restaurant’s offerings. The front side is dedicated to twenty-four-hour breakfast entrees, while the back has a small selection of lunch or dinner meals, and à la carte items. Apparently, there is even a small bar in the back too, as mixed drinks and a selection of beers are available. The place advertises a ‘happy hour’ between 5pm and 9pm, but in big, bold letters the menu says while the appetizers are half-price, the pu pu platter is extra. I roll my eyes, scoffing a bit to myself.
Isn't it always? Hang on... what the hella-heck is a pu pu platter? I bet Chloe would know.
Wait? Who's Chloe?
The waitress is still waiting for me to order while I struggle to remember who...
Wait... What was I saying?
I shrug as she speaks again.“No, Max, you don’t look a bit past thirty.”It must be comedy night in B.F. Washington, except the woman seems genuinely serious about what she just said.“Excuse me? I’ll have you know I’m twenty-si... hang on.” I scrunch my face as I attempt to figure it out for myself. Why is this so hard? “What year is it?” I ask honestly.“Ah... well, about that. It’s 2025, Max.”I do a little physical arithmetic on my fingers and thumbs. Er... 18... 21... 26... and... 30. Oh!“Wowser... I guess you're right. Happy birthday to me? Yay!”“It’s a little belated, silly. You were born in September.”I can tell in her expression that she isn’t kidding. I really am a thirty-something, and unlike what my generation previously thought, I am still alive and kicking. I guess 30 isn't ‘dead’ after all.
<RRRRRRLLLNEEED!!!BACON!!!WWWRRRLLLRRR>
Shit! I guess I’ve still been neglecting my keeper. Looking down my front, I silently apologize while the waitress tilts her head and smirks knowingly. ‘Sorry, stomach, I’ll get you something right now!’“Heh heh... Hungry much, Max? I heard that from across the counter.”I think my face turned newly invented shades of crimson.“No worries. If I know you, and I do, you’ll be wanting a pile of bacon and a waffle. And yeah, before you ask, the maple syrup is the real deal from Canada, not that crap from the US.” She pauses, then asks the obvious next question. “Anything to drink other than coffee? OJ? Hot cocoa?”It's nice that she asks, but I'm fine with my coffee, so I shake my head.“Okay then. One waffle with the works coming right up, Boss. Back in a sec.” She scribbles something her little notepad, then turns around and heads through the double doors and into the kitchen to give the cook my order.Alone again, I wait quietly for the friendly woman to return. Even after ten minutes, it only begins to register that she called me by name. An image of the lady drifts through my mind like it's trying to make a connection with my addled memories; she's similar to the girl behind the counter except for that unfortunate scar across her forehead... I'm pondering the coincidence, and that's when the most intense headache I've ever had pierces the exact center of my forehead. It is like a slow-moving, white-hot spike pressing into my head, a superheated drill bit boring a hole in my skull, then exploding behind my eyes in a dazzling display of light that's only shadowed by the debilitating, crushing pain.The woman returns and her eyes go wide as she sees me flop face-down on the breakfast counter. I can't help how the electric shocks to my nerves make my entire body jerk like a puppet. I watch as she drops the plate of bacon and a waffle I ordered, and in that instant, while the food slowly falls to the ground, I remember every incredible, tortured moment of the last three hundred days."I know you! How is this... possible!!!???? Where's.... Where's... CHLOE!!!"Feeling like a star is going supernova inside my skull, I fall backwards off the stool but never hit the ground. Darkness overtakes my senses as the room, diner, and surrounding landscape collapse in on me. My last memory is of the world shattering around me, and for some reason I wonder what will happen to the nice waitress named...... Charlie...
<DISCONTINUITY>
Actual reality
Arcadia Bay
Halloween 2025
The slug presses fractionally closer, putting pressure on the already scorched skin of the woman's head. Then, before it can proceed, it quickly moves backwards to a position just inches before impact.While completely impossible, if someone were able to witness the replay multiple times, they'd realize the bullet is a tiny bit closer than it has been previously. If that same observer watches carefully, they will see the almost infinitely slow progression, frame by frame, as the slug closes the distance to its target; it will take days, probably months, but nothing can stop it.Only the woman's amazing power has saved her, for now. It's an involuntary and as yet never known or tested bonus to her abilities. It has frozen her and the world around in a cocoon of slowed time.Having just recently been relaxing and gazing out upon the small town below, the impact knocked her physically out of the Adirondack chair she’d been sitting upon, its wooden frame scraping across the deck’s surface before collapsing with a <CLACK!>However, even with her power saving the woman, its protection is not infinite and is reaching a breaking point. As the sequence repeats over and over, the bubble surrounding her starts breaking its connection to reality, becoming a pocket universe of its own. It's a defense mechanism for the true universe, keeping paradox at bay; sealing off the wound just like the body heals a cut finger. Max, stuck and isolated inside, is tormented to relive the past five days while being consumed by the energy demands. Memories in her personal history dissolve and are made worse by the growing technological invader she's not even aware of.There will be consequences. Internally, Max knows this; overuse of her abilities always makes things worse. Only outside help will save her, now, which is ironic and funny if one thinks about it. Literal time is running out. She's lost between the shadows, and the time traveler is unable to do anything about it.
Back in the Diner
A few moments ago.
“Ordeeeeeer!”I tack up the slip of paper onto the cook’s queue, then take a left and walk into the storeroom. It is a place that I won’t be noticed; the diner at this hour is completely empty besides me, the cook, and Max, so there's no need for restocking the front-line right now. Boxes and Cambro bins are stacked on both sides of the room, muffling my voice so I can talk without being overheard. I fish into my back pocket and retrieve the little rectangular computer.
<Did you observe her lack of response?>
“Yeah, Mol. She didn’t react at all when I said her name.” I have never experienced this in any of my jumps. “Do you have any suggestions about how I can get her to remember?”
<We’re blazing new trails, Charlie. I’m playing it, as you humans say, by ear. At the moment, we can only observe and adjust. Even the smallest detail might help us.>
“What about when she ordered? She seemed to be on a kind of autopilot.”
<I noticed that, too, and I’m starting to see a pattern. It seems her cognitive functions are collapsing, and she doesn’t seem to realize it.>
As much as it hurts, I agree. I can't argue with Molly’s theory based upon my observations “Her thought processes are breaking down. Any idea what would cause it?”
<Some sort of trauma, maybe a terminal event. I don't have many guesses, but whatever it is, it's very very serious.>
“And we’re caught in it. Why? I mean, I'd give up my life for Max because of what she's done for me. I owe her that much. But how does this involve us?”
<Like I said earlier, you and Max seem to have interacted in some manner that we've yet to discover. So, like her, we're trapped between the shadows, as it were.>
“Poetic.”
<It's an apt metaphor; we're caught between one event and the next, repeatedly living through Max’s most recent days. We just don't know why. Not yet anyway, though we get more information with each repeat.>
"What do you mean?”
<Well, let's look at the facts, Charlie. Firstly, we know she’s somehow trapped herself in a time-loop. And all the readings indicate we’re not in the proper spacetime right now. This whole universe is an artificial construct centered around Max.>
“Right. We've been through that, but we still don't know the cause.”
<Correct. However, we know that it's breaking down, dissolving. The situation is similar to the trip you took with Destiny two hundred years ago in your personal timeline. This pocket reality is slowly coming apart and it will only be... I estimate it will take no more than 20 days more until it ceases to exist. The only reason we’re here at all is because of your special abilities.>
“But we keep looping back after only five days. How can there be twenty days left?”
<Also correct. However, I’ll remind you that time is running differently here. It’s five days in the real universe. In both places, that duration is slowly being reduced. We need to get back and find out what’s causing the loop in the first place. I have a theory, but until we find Max in the real universe, that’s all it is. >
“Catch-22. We're trapped in a pocket universe, and the only solution is outside of it. Am I getting it right.”
<Exactly. A timey-wimey no win situation. Happy fun times, right?>
“I wouldn't exactly call it that. So, how do we jump out? I can’t control it.”
<True. And I have no idea right now. Perhaps I'll come up with something in a bit. For the moment, such that is it, I suggest you check on your customer she may need more...>
I head out of the kitchen, a plate of bacon in one hand, and one with a steaming waffle in the other. Backing out between the swinging door, I turn around to see Max flopping and jerking wildly, like she's plugged into a high-voltage circuit. Somehow, she finds the strength to gaze up at me, surprise and recognition on her face. I freeze, dropping the load of food I'm carrying, and it crashes to the tile floor."I know you! How is this... possible!!!???? Where's.... Where's... CHLOE!!!"I have no idea how she knows me. I mean, this is a completely different universe, right? There are no remaining versions of me in any of them; that's the price I pay, and I've never even heard of another instance of myself in all my travels. This Max and I have never met except briefly on a bridge, yet somehow, I can tell that she completely believes the opposite.
<DISCONTINUITY>
Portland, Oregon
Columbia View Tower
Halloween 2025
The world twists, breaks into fragments, and then sucks itself into a singularity which blinks out of existence. Briefly, images of forested hills looking down upon an ocean-side town flash in front of me. For an incredibly short fragment of time, I am sitting on a wooden chair, relaxing while listening to the peaceful sounds of seagulls calling, and the constant whoosh-whoosh of the distant surf. My gaze is drawn downward to the tops of the buildings lining the waterfront, and from the corner of my eye sparks a concentrated green flash of light, like I'm accidentally glimpsing a beam from a...... Laser?I blank out. The experience leaves darkness surrounding me, and a ringing in my ears.In the background, I hear a familiar, yet very faint voice.
<Charlie...>
The word repeats multiple times, getting slightly louder with each repetition while vertigo and the spinning universe slows. Eventually, my inner ears stabilize and the sensation of falling ceases. Darkness is everywhere, that is until I open my eyes.
<Charlie, are you okay?>
I struggle with the blankets on my bed, convinced that they are a kraken coming to ensnare me and drag me to the abyss. I writhe, thrash, and beat on the covers, arching my back and hammering at the imaginary beast. Eventually, though, I regain my senses.“Oh, holy hell! What was that??” Sweat pours from every inch of my body, soaking my covers and the light pajamas I'm wearing. Wildly, I look around and realize I am back in my Portland condo. All the while, memories of my previous episodes remind me it could be a whole lot worse. At least I'm not pukey... yet.
<Take a couple of breaths. We seem to have been ejected from Max’s pocket universe.>
“Wait. What are you saying? We're home? What's this taste in my mouth? Bleaaahh! It’s like I’ve got a mouth full of blood.” I pause and reach with a finger to a tender line on my forehead and trace it down and to the side. My fingers came back covered in red. Clearly, the line of blood is flowing down my cheeks and onto my lips.
Fuck!
Throwing the covers aside, I stumble to the bathroom, intending to examine myself in the mirror. Steadying myself with both hands on the vanity, the reflection is something from the mother of all nightmares. My own face, eyes wide as they scan its features, is covered in gore. The crimson stain streams down my visage from a point directly in the center of my forehead, or maybe a little to the left. The smeared trail runs down the bridge of my nose, covering almost everything I see. It's like I'm a secondary character in one of those 80's and 90's slasher movies; you know, the ones that get cut to shreds, right? As I gape in horror, the sticky track of fluid leads into the corners of my partially separated lips, which is where the taste is coming from.The flavor is... gross; there's no other word for it, and I began heaving. I slam my eyes shut while turning on the faucet, quickly placing my face under the cool, fresh water. Drawing some of the sweet liquid into my mouth, I swish it around and then spit it out. The simple act gives me incredible relief as the taste is diluted. I let the refreshing stream wash over one side of my face and the other, using one hand to wipe the disgusting carnage from my cheeks; I can't afford to use both hands since my legs had started shaking so much. I think I'll fall over if I let go of the countertop. Letting more water pass between my lips, I suddenly become incredibly thirsty, gulping down mouthful after mouthful until the lack of oxygen forces me to breathe. When I'm done, I stand and gaze at the woman in the mirror. I clear her tangled, damp hair from her eyes and look closer at the reflection’s forehead. A tiny bump that has never been there before is present. At least there's no sign of additional bleeding.Touching the spot, I wince as the pressure makes little sparkles flicker in my sight. It is then that the memories surface, those of a spacious deck and patio looking down on the familiar waterfront town of Arcadia Bay. I've never been to that specific place shown in my mind, but the surrounding area is unmistakable.I push myself away from the mirror, and my legs almost don't carry me, but they managed to lurch and stumble me back into my bedroom. Collapsing on the rumpled bed, I bury my face between the two pillows at its head. My head spins as I realize what I am remembering. I turn my head so Molly can hear me.“I know where she is.”
<Max?>
“Yeah. Something terrible is happening, and she's in the worst danger ever, like life threatening...”
<I need details, Charlie.>
“I saw it, just for a split-second during the transition back here.”
<Go on...>
I explain everything I experienced, and Molly doesn't interrupt. I can tell the capable computer AI is correlating my story with all the other data she has at her disposal. We've spent a ton or reboots trying to figure this out, so it takes a few moments. I pause for a second, thinking about the final, ominous piece of the puzzle.“It was like I was seeing it from her point of view. But I don't see how that's possible.”
<I see. Well, I have a couple of theories that could account for that. However, let's not get ahead of ourselves. We need to focus on confirming Max’s location first. Without that, we can't begin to help her.>
That makes sense. “Okay. One step at a time. I guess I'll need to get ready for a trip down to the bay.” Dragging myself out of bed for the second time, I grab a new change of clothes, peel of my blood and sweat stained sleepwear, and head back into the bathroom to shower. All the while, I ponder how I could have seen the vision as if through Max’s eyes.Refreshed and cleaned up, I toss on a pair of jeans, a comfortable dark brown t-shirt with a scooped neckline; it's one of my favorites because it allows me to display the jade pendant I always wear. Over the top, I shrug into my lovingly worn leather jacket, leaving it partially unzipped, and finally step into a pair of scuffed side-zip combat boots.Slinging my always ready backpack over one shoulder, I slide out from under the bed the hard case that contains the rest of my heavier gear. Considering my vision, if the laser I saw is what I think it is, then I'll probably need the big guns contained within. Finally, I grab Molly off the nightstand and head for the door.Passing the small kitchen, I pause indecisively, thinking whether I should make some coffee first, but decide to just pick up something along the way. Arcadia Bay is a much shorter trip than to Eastern Washington, so I'll have plenty of time for a coffee break.“Ready, Mol?”
<Let's go. I'll fill you in about my theories during the drive. And just so you know, as always, I'd like a double-shot latte, extra hot, with two pumps of vanilla... when you order.>
We often joke like this, an AI pretending to need her morning caffeine, and sometimes she comes up with the wildest combinations. Occasionally, Molly picks something that actually tastes good, and her current recipe sounds plausible.“Mmmm, yummy. Sure thing, but remember, it's your turn to buy.”
<Fine. I'll just hack their online order system anyway.>
“Of course. You wouldn't be a super-intelligent, punk, pirate AI if you don't. Captain Bluebeard approves.”
<That reminds me, we should contact Chloe once we confirm Max’s location. We'll probably need help with this one.>
I agree with the little computer, then place her in my jacket pocket and leave my beloved condo probably for the very last time. Luckily, my nosy neighbor doesn't intercept me this time, so I am able to get to the building’s underground garage uninterrupted.We hit the road moments later. My truck is already topped off, so the only detour I make is to the Starbucks a couple of blocks away. Thanks to Molly, my drink and a toasted cheese bagel are waiting for me at the pick-up counter. The receipt, which I check for my name, shows the meal is curiously free of charge, so I dig a ten out of my wallet, and slide the tip across the counter to the cute barista. When she notices, she smiles, wishes me a nice day, then goes back to frothing milk for the next order. On the way out, Tentatively, I sip and almost scald the roof of my mouth. Ah, the perfect temperature! Besides this little stop, I don't think we’ll need another until we reach the bay. On Molly's suggestion, the plan is to swing around and come up from the south instead of the more direct approach. We'll pick up the 101 just north of Lincoln City and then meander our way up the Pacific Coast Highway through Tillamook and finally Arcadia Bay. My paranoid AI thinks folks might be watching if we were to go the other way. I can't argue with her, mainly because she's almost always right when it comes to things like this. While a little longer, it's an easy drive through the forested coastal mountains.I wonder, as I turn onto Route 18, what we will find when we get there. Remaining silent for the first half hour of the trip, only nibbling at my breakfast or sipping on the super-hot drink, I roll the possibilities around in my mind. I'd ask Molly, but she's working on another problem, so I don't want to interrupt.One way or another, we’re going to learn what is happening. I just hope we can fix it in time.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Arcadia Bay
Halloween 2025
The drive along the forested highway took a couple of hours, and the twists and turns of the coastal road kept me focused on driving. I didn't have much time to dwell on what we might find when we arrived in AB, but my body got into a relaxing groove as I navigated the curves like I was on autopilot, allowing me to occasionally take my gaze from directly in front of me and enjoy some of the views. The scenery along the way is a photographer's dream, and I'm sure Max has taken hundreds of pictures for her portfolio. It really is spectacular.I lift off on the accelerator, letting the big truck ease into the lowered speed limit at the edge of town. The sign welcoming visitors to Arcadia Bay is just ahead, and in the distance, the crescent of the waterfront extends all the way to the sheer cliff topped with a lighthouse. It's been a while since I've been here, so some of the buildings are more recent than my memories. It seems the town has been doing well for itself, rebuilding and expanding over the more than a decade since getting flattened by The Storm. There's even a trio of condo towers, each about fifteen stories high. They are points on a wide triangle and are arranged in a manner that doesn't obstruct the views from the luxury estates sprinkled along the eastern ridges. I never would have guessed that Arcadia Bay would get its own skyline, and I bet the view of the town from offshore is a scene that belongs on a postcard.Pulling over at the first gas station, I want to talk with Molly about our next steps. It makes a huge difference now that I'm able to remember events should Max reset again because we don't have to relearn everything all over again, even if we need to travel back to Arcadia Bay every time. Currently, we've got a bit over four whole days to figure it out. Personally, I'm good with finding a small hotel room or B&B to use as our base of operations, but maybe Molly has a better idea. She's been quiet this entire trip so far, initially telling me she was going to work on a big problem during the drive. I don't want to interrupt her, but now it's not something I can avoid.I retrieve the little device from my pocket and place it in the cup holder that pops out of the dashboard. Then I poke her screen to try to get the computer's attention.
<Charlie, I'm a bit busy. Can I get back to you... Oh! Are we there yet? Sorry. Hang on a sec...>
From the truck's speakers, which we connect to her output via a specially updated Bluetooth connection, I hear sounds of crashing dishes, crumpling papers, and a vacuum running. Eventually the racket calms down and the little AI apologizes again.
<Whew! Forgive me, it got a little messy in here while I was working. Don't mind the bin filled with beer bottles, I'll take the trash out in a bit.>
I laugh; Molly's acting like some whacko, nerd code-warrior who forgot they might have visitors. I don't know what she's working on, but it must be important if she let her own domain get cluttered."Now that you mention it, I could do for a beer, or at least something to eat. I really want to know what this project is of yours. Can you give me a hint?"
<Nope. My lips are sealed except to say it has currently involved about sixteen-billion separate probability lines to date, then rinse and repeat with different variables. Probability calculations are a bitch.>
"Oh, so it has something to do with Max?"
<I literally can't tell you, Charlie, though I have the feeling that you'll figure it out when it's staring you in the face. In this case, just having knowledge of the situation may change the entire outcome. You get the reference?>
I'm an engineer and know my physics history. What she's suggesting is an extension of the 'Observer Effect,' meaning the act of measuring an event changes the outcome. It's a fundamental of modern quantum mechanics and way the fuck over my head. But I get the drift; if I have a piece of information like, for example, the future, then it's possible my behavior will alter the situation."Yeah. Heisenberg, Dirac, and a bunch of other big names starting in the early 1920’s."
<Correct. So, the less you know, the better. We're in a tricky situation given the time-loop, so I'm trying to account for every variable, including you. Let's just say I have a theory about the cause of the loop, and why we got dragged into it. I just need a little more data.>
Usually, Molly isn't evasive about stuff like this unless she has a really good reason. So, I shrug and switch the subject."Okay then. So, now that we're in Arcadia Bay, do you have any suggestions about our next steps? Food? Hotel room? Any thoughts? And we still have to figure out where that nightmare scene from my vision takes place. Isn't that where we'll find Max?"
<Yes, but I'm betting we have at least a day before she shows up. I'd say we start by finding the place in your visions, then grabbing you some food, Two Whales style, and we can talk about our other options.>
"Sounds good to me. I wonder if the place has changed like the rest of the town."I put the truck in gear, pulling out of the gas station and back onto Main Street; that's what Highway 101 is called as it goes through Arcadia Bay.I gotta say, the town sure has grown up after being flattened; someone has invested a lot of money in rebuilding and having a new vision for the place. I can probably guess their name, too; bet it ends with 'fucking-Prescott,' and whether it's Sean, Nathan, or one of the other family members, experience suggests they are up to something no matter how beneficial they may seem. Even if the revitalized 'downtown' is shiny and new, there's always a catch with these assholes.We pass by the rebuilt post office, and through an upscale retail district called 'The Bayview' which are a collection of shops on the first and second floors of the cluster of condos that rise above the rest of the buildings. Here, you can find touristy eating establishments with tables and chairs still set up along the walkway, well-manicured paths and gardens that snake around the common areas. There's even a raised platform under a complex metal arc for live music called 'The Venue.' The sign says there are Friday performances during the summer and through the end of October as the sun sets in the Pacific.I point it out to Molly."Dude! We could hit this place during Happy Hour. You know, listen to some live tunes and shit? What do you think?"
<I'm more interested in the sign at the far end talking about leasing arrangements. We might fit in better if we become a resident. We have no idea how long we're going to be here if we break Max out of her loop.>
"Good point." The idea of being a renter here is appealing since I'll more than likely never see the Portland condo again; I doubt I'm going to be returning any time soon. "I like the idea. Let's check it out after we find out where Max is supposed to be staying. Then, dinner. Cool?"
<Agreed.>
We continue past the towers and within minutes, pass Two Whales. At the corner, we make a right and head towards the ridges that border the seaside town. After passing the turn to Blackwell Academy, Molly and I drive on, looking for the access road to the more remote, and exclusive, residences."I don't remember the street continuing on past the 'Academy,' Mol'.
<Apparently, they punched the old road through. Seems like here's a real estate boom in Arcadia Bay.>
The route leads us through one of the small residential areas where groupings of homes are laid out in an efficient grid-like fashion. Some houses look brand new, with their modern, imported-from-California designs: smooth, seamless exterior walls in earth tone colors, clay or metal roofing, and minimalist landscaping that requires little water. Others are older, but in better condition than I'd seen the last time I was here. These are more traditional places that, to me, characterize the small-beach-town appeal: cedar shake siding, white trimmed houses, with large windows directed towards the waterfront. Many have flat tops for which raised patios are located, making an outdoor living space that can be used for gatherings while providing great views of the Pacific. Like I noted earlier, Arcadia Bay has gone through a renaissance since the storm almost wiped it out, bringing new money, outsiders, and different influences to the town."I'll bet you five bucks I can guess who's got their greedy hands in all this land development."
<I have the same thought, so no deal. It's Prescott, duh... Oh, speaking of which... Would you look at that... Heh heh heh... Now that is surprising.>
We come up to a pair of stone pillars topped with an arching metal sign.'The Highlands'On the right-hand side, there's a realtor's marquee that describes the properties, and a diagram of the lots that are either already purchased or still available:'Estate Living Above the Bay'
'Lots available from six to twenty acres'
'Custom certified LEED homes'
'Petersen Realty LLC''A Prescott Company'I blink, and then do it again as I re-read my surname on the billboard. I'm just about speechless; there's no fucking way I'd ever partner with the likes of Sean Prescott. Molly, on the other hand, is laughing her electronic ass off, teasing me for the seeming coincidence of the real estate company's name.
<See? I was right. Ever thought of going into business as a realtor?>
"Oh, hell no, especially not working for Prescott! This has got to be just random chance, right?"The computer doesn't respond right away, which makes me a little nervous for some reason. When she pipes back up, her tone is something other than convincing.
<More than likely... We should be careful.>
"Uhm, Mol'?'
<Hmmm?>
"What aren't you telling me?"
<Nothing, though I'm more concerned about Prescott's motivations concerning this place. We should be careful.>
I agree. Leave it to Sean Prescott to find a way to make money on the rejuvenation of the town; there's got to be a catch.Pressing on the accelerator, we drive through the gate and up a twisting private drive until it forks to the left and right. The whole elite residential area is laid out in a single lane loop around the tree-covered hills. We slowly go up, down, wiggle along the one-way pavement, occasionally passing large, widely spaced lots that are in various stages of completion: some of them only have foundations poured, while others are just wooden frames. As we approach the highest point, we curve to the left in a wide arc, where we find the first finished house we’ve seen. The river-rock stone fence topped with metal lattice follows the border of the residence until it turns away into the forest, having only an open gate that heads into the property. In front, a yard-arm sign describes the place as being available for seasonal and day-to-day rent.This is one hella vacation rental, and I roll my eyes thinking about how wasteful it is. Leave it to the rich to buy up such a beautiful property, only to rent it out. Turning into the driveway, we snake our way towards the covered entrance. As we approach, we can see the trees thin and open towards the west. The entire back of the house has a spectacular and unobstructed view of the ocean and town below.I roll the last couple of feet, parking under the tall overhanging roof above the circular drive. I'm just about to open my door, when Molly stops me.
<Wait, Charlie. You'd better take your pack. We might need it.>
Good point. We are going into the unknown, so it is smart to be prepared. The bag has extra food, a Leatherman multitool, clothes, compact binoculars, first aid kit, my handgun and a couple of extra clips. While the pistol isn't nearly as useful as what's in the rifle case, it is more concealable. And yes, I do in fact have my permit to carry, just so you know.Sliding out of the seat, I walk up to the heavy wooden double doors, and ring the doorbell, hearing a muted, deep, gonging chime from inside. Waiting patiently, I half expect the doors to swing upon, but after a couple other attempts, no one answers."Guess no one is home."I shrug as I turn back to my vehicle, noticing for the first time a little sticker at the bottom corner of the tall window beside the right-hand door. Leaning in I get a closer look:Bay Area Security Systems24-7 MonitoringA Prescott CompanyWhy am I not surprised? Prescott has his grubby fingers in everything. The alarm system being run by his company only heightens my sense of danger about this place. I go back to the truck and slide into the driver’s seat, though not closing the door."Uh, Molly. You know this place is monitored by a company owned by Prescott, right?"
<I noticed that. The moment we pulled up I hacked into the system. The cameras for this residence are on a loop, though only for a limited time. For the moment, we are effectively invisible. The man may be ruthless in business, but he knows shit about internet-connected security. P-A-S-S-W-O-R-D-1-2-3-4-5 is not a safe way to keep folks out; all his business ventures also seem to use the same software, which makes our job so much easier. Ask me how much I own his ass, right now. Go ahead.>
This ought to be good. "Just how badly has he been pwned?"
<If this were a video game, I’d be tea-bagging him right now while pillaging his bank account. Oh my! He built himself quite the nest-egg. Since this is reality, I’ll be good and only take a portion of his cryptocurrency. We can add it to our stash.>
My little AI friend has always been a pirate at heart. Now I wonder who she gets that from..."How much?"
<A couple hundred Bitcoin. I left most of it alone since the digital broker he uses would alert him if I take any more. Otherwise, it's a piece of cake, and if we need more, I'll just do it again. It’s all completely balanced, with no digital footprint to track. Am I good, or what? No, wait, don't answer that. I am fucking awesomesauce.>
She laughs with that familiar electronic buzzing sound. Somehow there is a smug undertone that makes me smile from ear to ear."You never cease to amaze me, Molly." I pick up the small rectangular device, clipping it to the special place on the shoulder strap of my backpack. "Come on, let's go check around back. Someone could be here and just didn't hear us knock."Closing the truck door, I first withdraw my pistol and its holster from inside the bag and clip it the belt I'm wearing; better to be prepared than have to dig around during a firefight. Am I paranoid? When it comes to the crooked things Prescott is usually involved in, that's a big 'yes!' Gear ready, I make my way along the cut stone pavers that create a path around the inner perimeter of the dwelling. Every window we pass is locked tight with their blinds closed, as if the potential residents are still asleep. At one, I peek through the gap in the curtains and don't see any signs of activity or movement; it's just more evidence that the place is vacant. We turn the corner, and walk through a meticulously pruned arbor, its lattice entwined with the winter-bare branches of vines that would normally flower in early spring. This side of the house faces the edge of the forest through which casts pale golden beams of the sun. The contrast between light and dark plays games with my eyes as they adjust to the differences. There's not much to see but the thick trees that create a natural barrier for the property, which is why this side of the house is almost completely windowless.As we arrive at the back corner, the forest gives way to a completely unobstructed view of Arcadia Bay, the hill sloping sharply downward from the mountain perch. It isn't a cliff per se, but if someone slips, it will still be a long tumble down to the gentler slopes below. We can see the tops of every home and building in the valley below; it is an amazing view and matches what I'd seen in my vision."This is the place, Mol. I'm sure of it."Looking to the right, the entire back side of the estate is made of windows and transparent accordion-style sliding doors that opens up onto a multi-level deck that extends dozens of feet beyond the dwelling. Some portions are completely roofed over, while others are open to the elements. It is an extraordinary outdoor living space complete with a full kitchen, grill, smoker, and small refrigerator. If I ever lose this time-jump curse of mine, I'd design such a place for my own and finally settle down.I step up from the path and navigate the pair of stairs that access the lowest level, pass a covered hot tub, and move into the enclosed section that also contain a couple of cushioned wicker chairs and a matching couch, that suggest a relaxing, beach-front theme to the decor. The main sliders that lead inside are closed and the view into the dwelling is blocked by heavy curtains, reinforcing the fact that the house was deserted.Eyeing the keyed handle on the primary patio door, I decide that it's more important than a little breaking and entering to find the location from my memories. The distance, if I recall, seems to be about three miles, so I set my pack aside and fish through its contents for the folding binoculars. I scan the waterfront where some larger buildings, old warehouses for the fishing industry lay derelict. Of all the renovation in the town, these run-down relics remain standing, and not even repaired since the storm. None of the flat-topped roofs look similar to the scene in my dreams, so I dip the angle, moving inward from the waterfront.Slowly panning from right to left, I watch with a bit of amusement as The Two Whales slides into my view, a landmark all of its own, which not only helps me orient myself with the remaining buildings but awakes the growling beast in my stomach; I haven't eaten since the bagel back in Portland."Molly, after we're done here, we go get some chow. Cool?"
<That's the plan. You want me to order ahead? The diner has brought itself into the 21st century; someone even made a website for it and everything?>
"Is it the same menu as usual?"
<Mostly. As you'd expect, because we're in an alternate universe, there are differences. The Two Whales seems to have expanded and now offers a goodly selection of craft-beer and spirits; that's a first. I don't recall ever being able to get an 'adult beverage' there. Kinda wishing I was human, you know?>
"Since when do you drink, Mol'?"
<You have no idea, Child. The things I've had to put up with...>
I do a double take when she calls me a kid, but after a brief moment of reflection, I gotta admit she's got me there considering the time she spent with Des. The years add up to millions. However, that doesn't mean I have to take this kind of abuse, so I dish it out as good as I get it."Okay, so are the years weighing heavily on you, old-timer? You need help crossing the street, or do you think you can manage it?" I start laughing.
<I'm not even going to argue about that. So, what do you want to eat? It's on me today, kiddo. You sure about the Two Whales? There are new options now that The Bay is booming.>
I continue to scan the area while I think about it, my stomach making more grumbling noises in the process. The diner is typically where I eat when I am in town, and considering there haven't been, historically, many choices in Arcadia Bay, Two Whales was the place to go."What kind of options?"
<Well, there's a new brewery on the waterfront comically named 'Suds.' From the ratings they have an excellent thin-crust pizza and a collection of over a hundred types of beers, ales, and lagers to choose from. Over by the condos we passed by 'Myr,' which opens at 8pm; it may be a little too adventurous for you since the head chef focuses on alternative proteins...>
"Like what?"
<Insects, specifically ants. The woman seems almost obsessed with the critters as a domesticated food source and how to increase their yield through myrmecophilous means. From the profile on the restaurant's site, she is not only a two-Michelin star chef but has a PhD in entomology. Quite experimental, really.>
"Ew! I can't see that place lasting too long here. Portland maybe but The Bay? I think I'll stick with what I know, and I really have an appetite for some down-home cooking."
<Two Whales it is. What do you want, and I'll order?>
"Bacon-habanero cheeseburger with everything except fuckin' mayo. God that stuff is nasty!"
<You want fries with that?>
"Duh, and a vanilla shake, too."
<Done. It'll be ready in thirty minutes, so we have time to finish up here.>
I lift the binoculars back to my eyes, continuing my survey. I recall from my vision the brief flash of green light, a laser for sure. It happened so quickly that I'm not sure where it originated, but I might as well try to job my memory. I slowly pan across the first of the condo towers, pausing for a moment as I read the large letters that make up its name: 'The Bayview'. From the banner attached next to it, the same realty office is advertising units as being available. Of course, Prescott owns these buildings, too.From my vantage point, I can see most of the balconies facing this direction, and all the way to the lower third-story. Many of the units seem occupied, while others are dark or have their curtains closed. There's a dude grilling something on the fifth floor, and another person looking through a telescope, but not in my direction. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary, so I raise my glasses to the rooftop. The access door is closed, and there's no one enjoying the open-air atrium and garden at the moment. I shift my views to the other pair of matching buildings, checking them out similarly but to no avail. The beam must have come from one of these high-rises, I'm sure of it, but I see no evidence to back up my gut feeling.Stowing the binoculars, I heft my backpack, recon completed for now. My stomach seems to agree with a particularly loud growl."Alright, Molly, I've done all I can for now; the sun is low enough that it's making spots on the backs of my eyes. We know this is the place, so we can call in Chloe and the rest of Max's team. I'm starving; next stop, the diner!"Having achieved our initial objective, we make our way back to the truck and drive the remainder of the loop, ending up back at the Y. We leave wealthy-as-fuck neighborhood of the 'The Highlands' and make our way back down to the valley and the main part of Arcadia Bay. My stomach continues its complaints, so I poke my belly button; maybe it'll hush for a few seconds because we're headed to get food: Two Whales; a bacon burger, fries, and a shake... I start drooling at the thoughts.Down on the waterfront, we turn into the small parking lot next to the diner. It is still fairly early in the evening; the sun is continuing its descent to the West and making the shadows longer, and there's a little bit of chill in the Autumn air. Since there's plenty of open spaces, I roll the big SUV next to the vacant handicap spot because I don't like assholes dinging the sides of my vehicle. From outside the diner, I hear a lot of voices of customers, and dishes clattering from the back door that's been left open to give the kitchen area a little relief. As we get nearer, I can see through the glass door that there's at least four people waiting for a table. The place is hopping, and everyone seems to be having a good time. Someone's even put a coin in the old jukebox, which is playing a Country/Western song...🎶Twang Twang🎶 'I lost mah love...' 🎶Twang🎶 '... an' mah horse tooooo...' 🎶Twang Twang🎶
Yuck!
I'm not much of a music enthusiast, but I know exactly what I don't like. On the other hand, I love seeing the old diner doing well and reaping a portion of the wealth of Arcadia Bay's new life; the last time I was here, it was just a rundown joint in a has-been town that was slowly dying. While I don't agree with Prescott's methods, it seems his land-grabbing investments have a positive effect on the overall livelihood of the businesses. I still don't trust him, he's up to something. Grabbing the door's handle, I haul back on it and enter. It's crush-level packed in the entryway, and I immediately bump up against the last person in line. The music is much louder, and I hope the young teen can hear me when I tell her I'm sorry. All I get is a shrug in return, so I can only assume she got my drift.Wow! Like I said earlier, it's been a long time since I've been inside the Two Whales. It's been totally redone, yet still in keeping with its retro flair. Craning my neck, I can see the original bar-style countertop with its chrome accents, yet it looks brand new, the stools are all shiny, and the seats aren't cracked with age. Looking to the far end, the old jukebox is lit up and crashing out more God-awful country songs. There's a new addition, based on the sign which points the way to an outdoor area that is currently open. From what I'm reading, and weather permitting, the patio, a lounge named 'The Bottlenose' is available for adults only. As it seems I'll have a bit of a wait if I want to sit in the diner itself, I excuse myself and pass by the two couples in front of me that each have a child in tow, including the teen I apologized to as I entered.Following the arrow, I turn to my right towards the longer end of the diner where the jukebox still sits. They've added a new door, which is currently open, and glowing string lights and tables occupy what used to be the secondary parking lot. As I pass by the edge of the breakfast bar, I notice a single booth, the last one, is unoccupied and in the exact same condition as I remember from years ago: there are carved out scratches and graffiti decorating the aging tabletop, some of which make up names: 'Max, Chloe, and Rachel.' Unexpectedly, I see my own engraved on the surface though separated from the others: 'Charlie.'
Now I know I never did that. Is it just another coincidence?
Dismissing the thought for the time being, I step past the jukebox, through the open doorway, and out into the evening air once again. I'm met by a thin, dark-skinned man dressed not in the retro attire Two Whales is known for, that being light blue dress and apron for the ladies; in fact, I don't ever recall a dude working the floor, they've always been cooks and dishwashers. Nevertheless, the crisply dressed gentleman is more decked-out as a maitre d', though one with a friendly, welcoming smile instead of snooty like you see at posh restaurants."Good evening. I'm afraid I'll have to ask for your ID due to last night's excitement if you don't mind."Kinda nice to be carded considering my actual age; one of the side-effects of my unexpected abilities is that for some reason, I don't get much older. Sure, three hundred years of different experiences have put a couple of wrinkles in the corners of my eyes, but for all intents, I look like I have ever since I left home, back when I was 18. I dig around in the front pocket of my ever-present backpack and remove my wallet, then hand him my driver's license. After a quick examination, where the gentleman casually glances between my picture on the little card, and my face, he hands it back, then politely leads me towards a small, two-seat table at the far corner. After pulling out my chair, he steps aside."Your table, Miss Petersen. Welcome back. I'll have the bartender get started on your usual drink."
My usual?
The polite man steps away to an open-air bar, expertly dodging around the two dozen occupied tables sprinkled around the outdoor lounge. Throughout the space, artificial topiaries, and potted trees create shadows and some privacy for everyone, transforming what used to be wasted space and asphalt pavement into classy place to have a drink. I can see someone had the foresight to predict there'd be competition from the condo developments a couple blocks away considering the retail shoppes and eateries I saw as I drove by earlier. It's super-smart business sense, in my opinion, and as a bonus, the revenue made here takes a little bite out of Prescott's ventures.Caught up as I am about wondering whose great idea it was to add new life to Two Whales, I totally miss the fact that the maitre d' seemed to know me by name. As I unclip Molly and set her next to the burning votive candle, a shadow steps up to my table with a drink in hand."Your Martini, Charlie. This one is on the house, of course."The woman, whom I can't make out because dusk's deepening shadows seem to all have collected on her features, places my drink on a small white napkin embossed with a graphic of a Bottlenose whale, then pulls out the chair opposite of mine. Sitting down, the glow of the candle reveals her face, and it's like looking in a mirror except for a rough scar on the side of the woman's forehead.
<My my, I guess that helps prove my theory. What a surprise, it's the Wonder Twins! Heh heh heh.>
The apparition speaks using my voice once again."Drink up, Charlie. You're gonna need it."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Intercepted phone call
Mobile West Networks, Inc.
Tap 522-AB
Freq: 25.77GHz
Halloween 2025
Jefferson: "Prescott, this is unexpected. To what do I owe the pleasure?"Prescott: "There's been a security breach. Someone got into my accounts. They took the bait."Jefferson: "Any idea who?"Prescott: "No. They are very good at covering their tracks, and the way they circumvented the protections was... not typical, pros for sure. My best team, including our people in the NSA, have no idea how whoever did it was able to. They say it's mathematically impossible, but the encryption was broken as if it hadn't even been there."Jefferson: "Sounds like we have a new actor. What do we know?"Prescott: "They came in through the public-facing side of the network. Matthews, in Virginia, was able to trace it to the tower that covers the eastern side of Arcadia Bay, so whoever they are, it's local. He couldn't get further as the cell provider couldn't lock down an ID on the device."Jefferson: "State sponsored, maybe?"Prescott: "If it is, then they've never used whatever tech they tried done before."Jefferson: "Okay, keep me informed if you learn more. Was there anything else, Sean?"Prescott: "Not really. I know better than to ask about the reliability of your sources, but Caulfield hasn't shown up yet either. On the other hand, these same people mention rumors about her group is planning an operation directed at our other assets. Getting hacked was probably part of their plan, though again, they've never used that technique before. Anyway, if shit hits the fan, and no I don't have specifics about where, I want the Caulfield bitch eliminated, am I clear? Our man in the White House says there are people in very high places that do not want to take the risk of discovery when there's the bigger picture to think about, especially since we already have the other one under our complete control."Jefferson: "Henderson said that did he?"Prescott: <Sigh> "I should have known that you'd have your own ways of finding out who we're working for. And before you ask, I am only following orders. The man has people that can make the empire I'm building disappear with a wave of his hand."Jefferson: "You and I have been friends a long time, Sean. This is the first time I've ever seen you afraid of anything. What is it you aren't telling me?"Prescott: "Off the record?"Jefferson: "Of course."Prescott: "Okay, we'll talk when you arrive. Otherwise, the rest of the program is on track. I got an update from Sunderland. Douglas says the prototypes our esteemed National Security Advisor... ahem... acquired seem to be stable. Henderson tested it on a couple of White House staff, and from the report, they were clueless and took the programming with no pushback; computer control makes the process almost instantaneous. I guess the North Koreans really do know what they're talking about. If it works, and we combine it with your years of field trials, it'll be the breakthrough we've been looking for. Douglas has been evaluating it all throughout your recovery, he's even used it on our captive. Her vitals have stayed green across the board ever since the interface took over."Jefferson: "That is good news! Let me know if there are any updates about this so-called op of theirs, and I'll use her to deal with little Miss Caulfield. Honestly, part of me is a bit jealous. I was hoping to pull the trigger myself, but I guess if it becomes necessary, so be it. Anyway, I'm about an hour outside of town; this piece of shit rental is driving me crazy even more than this fucking itch."Prescott: "Still healing, huh? Okay, I'll have the guest house set up for you. We just got a couple new staff and one of them, before conditioning, was a dermatological therapist. I'll have her sent over as a party-favor; she's quite attractive too. I think you'll approve. Do with her as you wish, and I'll have housekeeping take care of what's left; they are discreet. Oh, and feel free to use the Bentley; I know how attached you were to your old car."Jefferson: "Yeah. I'll be nice to sleep on a bed that doesn't feel like it's a shipping pallet. I'm happy to be back in a first-world country. Thanks, Sean."Prescott: "Always a pleasure, Mark. See you tonight."
<static>
Arcadia Bay
Halloween 2025
The Bottleneck Lounge
at the Two Whales Diner
I take another sip of my martini; alright, it's more of a gulp, really, and I can't take my eyes away from my time-tripping duplicate. Shaking my head, I can't remember, much less believe it now, that I'm meeting myself for the first time in all of the past 300 years. I pinch the toothpick between my index finger and thumb, stirring the drink with the olive-tipped end while I try to come to terms with this new situation...Of course, Molly and I talked about the possibility of me meeting a past or future version of me, especially considering that unlike Max or Des, I can't control where or when I jump. The AI hasn't yet been able to derive a pattern for any of it, though she insists there is one. Nonetheless, we discussed bumping into myself, as well as the potential side effects such an event would likely have. At one end of the spectrum, our running theory says that perhaps I will automatically jump out. I look around; obviously that isn't happening. So, logic dictates that the opposite side must more closely resemble the truth. That means 'Bad Fucking Things™™!! I'll even double the trademarks and exclamations on that one; it's wipe-out-the-multiverse bad!In the immortal words of Chloe Price: 'Fuuuuuuck!'I turn my head left, then right, realizing that we are all still alive. Somewhere in the middle of the two extremes is me, sitting at a small, round table, trying the hell not to chug the rest of my martini without at least having something in my stomach. The problem is, this is exactly the kind of situation that requires not just a single cocktail, but maybe twelve. I'm interrupted from my internal thoughts when Charlie 2.0 casually grabs my toothpick out of my fingers and eats one of the olives."Dude!"My twin looks up and smirks."What? I had Jorge put an extra olive in anyway. What's the big deal?""I... " My thoughts disappear like smoke in a breeze. "I... Fuck, Charlie, I have about a zillion questions...""Never bump into yourself before, eh? Don't worry, it doesn't happen very often; it's only my second time, actually."I sip from the glass once more while studying the woman. She's me even if her hair is slightly shorter and styled such that her bangs mostly hide the prominent scar. My eyes lock on the almost straight line, thick at one end and trailing along and around the curve of her head until it disappears underneath the woman's left temple. I can't help it; my free hand gently runs across my own forehead. It's not that I'm trying to be rude, and she obviously notices because she brings her finger up, pulling away the curtain of hair so I can get a better look."The scar? Yeah... that. Obviously since you don't have one that means it's a future event for you." She pauses, noticing my widening eyes. "Don't worry, this isn't a spoiler because I can't even remember how I got it. One second, I was like you, all fair and unmarked, the next I had this. Beats me how.""I wasn't...""Yeah, you were, Babe. You're me, remember? You can't hide from the fact that neither of us can lie worth shit. Also, I'd remember trying."I think about the situation Max is in and it feels very similar. "So, this is some sort of loop? This is so weird, and honestly it freaks me out. Didn't Des warn us not to mess with paradox?"The older Me takes this time to eat the last olive in my drink, smirks while making a big production out of chewing and swallowing it. Then her expression changes to all serious, and she gets this faraway look, recalling the exact conversation we both had with our then mentor and guide:
"Dude! If there's one thing I've learned in this messed-up multiverse, it's that it'll blow a gasket if you push too hard on the rules. Considering the randomness of your powers, I don't think it'll be a big issue. On the other hand, I kinda feel responsible for getting you into this mess, so please take my advice when I say paradox always leads to Bad Fucking Things™️, like senseless deaths, town-wrecking storms, and anything else that will help put cause back in front of effect. I've seen it firsthand. Do. Not. Fuck. With. It. Charlie."
They were ominous words back then, and the memory sends a shiver all the way to my toes. It's kinda like when I was first learning to drive, and the instructor not-so-innocently mentioned that 70% of new teen drivers have an accident in their first week. If that wasn't the kicker, what scared me witless was that 15% of those kids fucking died! So, I take Des' warning very very seriously. I down the last of my drink and signal the closest waiter that I'd like another. Honestly, just hook my arm up with an I.V. My older self continues, trying to reassure me."I remember, but I can't say much, Charlie. All I can tell you is there's going to be a time, very soon, when you'll have to make a choice without understanding what the consequences will be. None of us come into this world knowing the future, so I really can't give more details except... Just don't give up hope, no matter how hard it is. You can figure this shit out all on your own; I'm here because of the decisions you make, but I can't tell you what they are. You understand?"I rotate the empty conical glass along its base, seeking some form of guidance in the reflected string lights I guess... I get what she's saying. If I accept that the woman is me, then, by definition, the choices I make somehow result in her existence, even if I don't know the events between. It sounds like... exactly what Destiny told us about."So, I really have no choice?""Not true. You have every decision at your disposal; whatever you choose. I exist because you picked a certain path, even if you didn't know it at the time. I've had years to figure it out, and while I absolutely cannot tell you anymore, I'll just say: 'Go with your instincts.' Seriously, I can't calculate the probabilities like..."It dawns on me, something, I mean someone, is missing, the one constant in my time-tripping life. It's made even more strange since the little device that's attached to my pack hasn't said a word about it. I look into the woman's eyes which already seem to be more downcast again, like she let someone down..."Charlie, where's Molly?" I fetch the silent device from its clip, placing it on the small table. Apparently, the little fucker is playing hard-to-get, because she seems to be emulating an inert brick the size of a cell phone. The sobbing breath my alter-persona takes tells me everything, and it crushes my heart. Honestly, I don't know where I'd be, or even if I'd be sane, if it weren't for Molly."I... I don't know. We... We got separated, Charlie. I don't even remember it.""You've been on your own this whole time?"When my twin silently nods her head, I poke at the device's screen repeatedly, and after the sixth time, it starts to glow.
<Hello, Charlies.>
"That's all you can say, Mol'??? What the absolute fuck? Why the silent treatment."
<Ladies, forgive me. The entire situation would be hilarious if it weren't so damn serious. The fact that Charlie 2.0 and an earlier version of myself parted ways suggests events happened quickly. I mean, I can't just walk away now, can I? Look, no legs!>
When Molly notices both our shocked, angry expressions, her tone changes dramatically to being apologetic.
<Okay! Okay! I'm sorry! The truth of the matter is that whatever is going to happen is based on your actions, Charlie, and you and I eventually separate. Whether it's voluntarily or not remains to be seen, but from what your future self says about 'not remembering it' suggests it is not by choice. What I don't want to do is make any suggestions.>
"Why not?"
<Think about it, Charlie. Since I am somehow impacted by your actions, I cannot, I mean I must not, influence the chain of events, thereby possibly changing the conditions. The fact that we know it happens is a glimpse into our future. Minor as it may seem, knowledge in itself might alter your decisions. We have to be extremely careful, because we're already entangled in Max's timeline. We don't want to make the situation worse.>
We both stare at the device as her words make the right connections in our respective brains."So, I'm on my own?"
<No. Never, Charlie. I just cannot change or attempt to change what you're going to do. However, I can remind you of something you've already decided, since it seems to have slipped your mind.>
"Contact Chloe! Oh my God, I almost forgot!"I switch my gaze back to my mirror image, excusing myself abruptly. "Shit! I gotta make a call! Be right back. Please be here when I return; we have so much to talk about."My alter-person nods. "Okay. I'll just go get us a couple more drinks."Grabbing the little AI, I step around the half-height white fence that is the perimeter to The Bottlenose and take a few strides along the sidewalk to get out of earshot. There's a lot of foot traffic, younger adults in little clusters or pairs, and it's another example of how much Arcadia Bay has grown. None of them pay any attention to me as I lean against the corner's lamppost while I dial my phone.
Western Canada, near Kamloops
Halloween 2025
The Funny Farm
Rachel, Sloane and I have got the basic plan, or at least an idea of one, and we'll update it each time Max rewinds until we get it right. I am just heading to my own quarters, when my cell phone rings. On the screen is a name I don't recognize, and very few people have my private number. Moreover, thanks to some wizardry by Warren, all the team is spared the junk and spam calls that normal folks have. So, while on the one hand it's a mystery who's calling, the fact that they have reached me suggests it's important. Letting the device play its little tune, I change direction, turning back from where I was headed upstairs, and instead go outside. Pressing the accept button, I put the phone to my ear while pacing the length of the long patio."Uh... Hello?"
"Chloe, is... is that you?"
The tone from the woman on the end seems relieved to get ahold of me, like she knows me."Who is this?"
"It's Charlie. Oh, thank God! Boy, am I glad to speak..."
What’s odd is I don’t remember anyone named Charlie... well, except for the lieutenant I saved when I was in the service. That was way back from before we formed our little band of operators. But those events never happened ever since Max undid them to save my life. On the other hand, the girl’s voice on the phone sounds eerily familiar.
Fuck! There goes getting any sleep tonight...
I can't afford to waste time considering Maxie could rewind at any moment; we can’t depend on the fact that her redo’s will stay in five-day blocks. It’s not fair to the person on the other end, but I don’t have the luxury of being anything less that direct."I don't know anyone named Charlie, or at least not now. You seem to have me at a disadvantage. Not to be hella rude or anything, but what do you want? Kinda' got a crisis going on right now..."Though I can hear breathing, there is silence from the other end. Obviously, 'Charlie,’ whoever she is, is thinking carefully about what she's going to say, as if her exact wording is somehow critical.
"Uh... yeah, I get that Chloe, in more ways than you know. To you, I'm a complete stranger, so let me start over, okay? I'll try to explain."
"Go on."
"Alright, it's like this: My name is Charlie Peterson, and I'm calling from Arcadia Bay. I know where Max is, or... well... where she will be."
The mention of my wife catches my complete attention. I want to know what's happened to Max that's forcing her to rewind so much; we haven't heard anything from her since she went off on her own. The only reason any of us know about it was because of my talent to remember every iteration."Charlie, how do you know about her, or me, or any of this?"
"That's a little hard to explain. You're probably not going to believe me, but please don't hang up. I'm a time-jumper, and I've apparently been pulled here because there's some sort of time loop that seems to be centered around Max. No, before you ask, I don't know what the cause is or how I ended up in the middle of it; I know it sounds crazy..."
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Please! I need your help, she's in serious trouble. I... I don't know how to explain it without sounding like a complete nutcase. She's trapped in this pocket universe. And no, I don't really understand it either, but I've been there. I think her powers made it as a way to protect her."
Pocket what? Protect Max from...? I start feeling skeptical about this whole conversation, and maybe a little guilty because of the doubts planted in my stupid head by Jefferfuck. Is it possible that this is some sort of flashback?"You're right, you sound insane in the brain, dude. I think I'm going to hang up now..."
"No, wait! You’ve got to trust me..."
"Why the fuck would I want to do that?" The woman sounds like she's been through something, and I'm probably not making it any easier for her. But I have to be sure this isn't some remnants of those drugs they put in me. "Then tell me something useful. Convince me, because otherwise, I have more serious issues to deal with than crank callers."There's a pause on the line, then this Charlie person lays into me like Mom used to. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear she somehow sounds like her, accent and everything, like she and her have been friends for ages. Dunno how the fuck that’s possible...
"Chloe! Elizabeth! Price! You are at times the most impossible girl to live with! Y'all go off saving the... gosh darned universe and ya' still haven’t learn’d nuthin'! What would Max think of you, oh fearless Cap'n Bluebeard? You're as scared as Bongo used to be of the neighbor's dawg!"
The woman's voice switches accents back to the one I heard originally except it's filled with anger directed at me.
"I know you, Chloe Price. You and Max were my mentors sooooo fucking long ago. I owe you guys my life... even if you don't know it, so, God-damn-it give me a chance! Max is in a time-loop, and we need to help her like right fucking now!"
Well, she's got me there. I am scared, there's no denying it. Max rewinding in five-day increments says something messed up is happening. I dunno about being Charlie's mentor, or about saving the universe, and I hope she explains that someday, because I have a ton of questions for her. But I’m convinced, there is no way she's lying; no one would know about the loop except someone outside of it, or one immune to the effects—like a time-jumper."Hey, Charlie, calm down. Even though it sounds bat-shit crazy, I believe you. You just hella caught me by surprise, and it’s been a really messed up day, yeah? Would you believe I remember every loop, too? Looks like we have something in common. Anyway, sorry for the 'tude; why don't you start at the beginning... Uhm, I mean again."The girl on the other end takes a breath, pauses for a number of minutes. Over the phone, I can hear the night-calls of seagulls that I remember when I was a kid. That was the evening Max, and I snuck out during a sleepover; made it all the way to the waterfront just as the sun's final rays turned deep purple before disappearing. We'd scared some of the birds that hadn't left the beach... The memories run through my mind, and they give a sense of reality to Charlie's story.
Damn, that was so long ago... We were... What, nine years old?
"You really are in The Bay, aren't you, Charlie?"
"Yeah, I am. Let me explain..."
Without another word from me, I listen as the girl runs through the Cliff-Notes version of her story. She talks about having a unique ability to be pulled into different times and places, which sounds a lot like an uncontrolled version of Max’s photo-jump. The woman continues to talk about her adventures, and training with another person who could navigate time on demand, perhaps another derivative of my dorky wife's abilities.
Fuck! Just how many timelords are there?
I want to interrupt Charlie when she mentions her guide's name... DestinyFor some reason, and don't ask me why because I have no fucking clue, my mind locks on the word. Every other thought disappears, like water down the drain, until The Only thing left is the name. Images of a lanky teen with blonde hair and a streak of red flashes like lightning across my eyes. While I know I have never met this girl, my heart says she is someone very important to both me and Super-Max. Don’t ask me why; this is some crazy-ass shit! I can't even explain it to myself, let alone you folks. ‘Trust me...’ she says. Well, y'all gotta do the same for me, too.
"You still there?"
She’d stopped talking a couple of minutes ago while my mind was... elsewhere. Her voice brings me back to reality."What? Oh, yeah, yeah, I just got caught up in my head. You were saying?"
"Well, there’s not much more to tell. I was just mentioning that Max will be here in a couple of hours, and she’s going to need our help. How soon can you get here?"
It is all starting to come together. Max has been gone for days, and just like we planned, the team and I are headed to Chicago: Katie, and Vic, first, then Rach, Slo' and I to follow a couple days later. I go back over my memories, realizing we've been through this scenario countless times already, but the difference this time is Charlie's call. And that means we can mix things up a bit..."Okay, we'll be there, though it’ll probably take all night, and into the morning. We have a pilot and transport, so it should be a piece of cake. Where do we meet you?"
"The overlook across from the lighthouse."
"Cool beans. Let's do this.... And, uh... Thanks, Charlie. Keep in touch. While you and I won’t have to redo this conversation, if Max rewinds again, just stick with the plan. It might save us a couple of hours, yeah? If we arrive before you do, we’ll wait for ya’."
"I gotcha, Chloe. I’ll do the same. Otherwise, I'll pick you up around ten in the morning."
"Roger that."I hang up the phone, then step back inside. Every room in The Funny Farm has a big red button that has the words 'Never use, or else!' stenciled underneath. It's supposed to be pressed in emergencies only, and yet, I can't hella think of a bigger one than this. I mash my palm on the button and the lights throughout the house start strobing red. A siren begins shrieking loud enough to wake the Halloween Dead...A few moments, later a pair partially clothed women leap from the second floor to the base of the stairwell, ending up back-to-back and covering each other. The blonde, my newly reacquainted ex, is going all gangsta' holding two hand-cannons sideways that are bigger than Victoria's colossal attitude, while The Chief is on one knee, sweeping in the opposite arc a massive 4-gauge semi-automatic shotgun. The gun's customized barrel and muzzle features an open-mouthed shark and razor-sharp teeth, informing would-be intruders exactly which end means: 'Seriously Bad News.'
Wonder where Sloane has been hiding that one, and why the fuck don't I ever get the big guns?
My eyes go wide, then my right eyebrow lifts curiously. Rachel, in boxers decorated with little maple leaves, is otherwise topless and looks as damn fine as I ever remember. Opposite her, Sloane is commando, wearing a matching and just barely long enough hockey jersey. In ordinary circumstances, the pair protecting each other would be hella distracting, even if my heart and soul belong to my First Mate. On the other hand, the way they work together seems natural, and their reactions to the alarm suggest that whatever feelings they have between the two of them isn’t getting in the way of their jobs, just like me and Maxie."Clear!""Clear!"Both women relax, lowering their guns as they see me standing next to the alarm. Meanwhile, Miss 'eternal stick-up-her-ass' Chase steps lightly down the stairs dressed in a silk nightgown that must have cost as much as some countries' defense budgets. While our political expert rarely goes into the field of fire, I bet the thin, multi-layer fabric is bulletproof, too. And, just like the others, she too is armed, though with a mere gold and platinum plated peashooter. I watch as she descends seemingly unconcerned, though everywhere she looks the muzzle of her gun follows. Her eyes settle on me, her brows dipping in annoyance, as my hand retracts from the alarm’s trigger."Price, this better not be one of your fucking drills again!""Uh, it’s not, Vic. Shit’s going down bigtime." I scan the tops of the second-floor balcony and don’t see anyone else. "Where’s Kate? Anyone seen Warren?"Victoria comes closer. The way her gown flows as she moves makes it seem she’s floating instead of walking across the wooden floor. Taking off the top-most layer and exposing her shoulders, Victoria drapes the shawl across Rachel's bare features. After nodding in satisfaction, the woman turns her angry gaze my way."Katie asked me to express her displeasure about being awakened at two o'clock in the morning. She's already grouchy enough about our upcoming flight; you all know how much she hates airplanes. So, I am here under orders to ‘Deal. With. It.’" She gestures her hand at me, indicating that I'm the source of all her problems, then continues. "Again, this better not be one of your juvenile readiness exercises, or I might just shoot out your kneecaps."Sloane straightens her back, letting the jersey cover herself more modestly. Moving to the control panel on the wall, The Farm’s owner flips a couple of switches, and the sirens go quiet. Afterwards, all three women join me at the big kitchen table, with Rachel detouring briefly to turn on the coffee maker."Okay, Dudes, this is the real deal. Max is in trouble, and I just had a phone call from someone in Arcadia Bay that knows where she is, or at least where she’s going to be. Anyone know a woman named Charlie Peterson?"After getting a bunch of blank stares and a couple of shrugs in response, I lay out the new strategy."Okay, ladies. Here’s what we’re going to do..."I point to Vicky. "Okay, Chase, you and Kate leave for Chicago just like we planned. Get set up so we don’t waste any time should we need the misdirection. Rent a flat or something close to the target area, to use as a base in case you’re there for a while. I’ll send Warren with you guys, and he can run the drone more locally; we may need to get access to Prescott’s data systems, and he's the best at that kind of shit. Find a way to infiltrate Venturi without the rest of us."Victoria nods politely, then runs her fingers through her slightly messy hair. "Katie's going to be grumpy as hell, Price, but there's plenty of work with comms and logistics that she'll forget how much she hates airlines. Consider it taken care of. As for our resident ultra-nerd, I'd better go see where Warren is; he's probably in the lab and didn't even hear the alarm. If you'll excuse me?" Standing up, the woman slides her pistol into a little matching holster attached to her gown's silk belt, then proceeds to pour three coffees, holding two in one hand, while taking a quick sip from the third. She quietly steps down the stairwell to the basement and disappears around the corner.I look at the two remaining girls at the table."Rach, you're still the random element. We'll take you as far as AB, then go rouge. Ever jumped out of an Osprey?"I watch as Sloane grins, nodding since it's her personal favorite aircraft. On the other hand, Rachel shakes her head."You mean, on purpose? No. I've been thrown out of one, and without a parachute, too; that was years ago, but I haven't ever skydived from the platform. Don't worry, I'll figure it out. It can't be any more difficult than diving out a Chinook."I really want to hear more about the story, but that can wait until later."Good enough, Rach. Alright, we'll drop you on the eastern ridge that circles AB. You're gonna be our eyes-behind-our-heads. I'll brief you in-flight on what Charlie told me.""Overwatch. I like it, Chloe. I got your backs, ladies."Turning to Sloane, I raise my finger, pointing to the ceiling, and revolved it in the air."How long to get the bird ready, Chief?""Gotta make a couple of phone calls. We'll need clearance to cross the border, which shouldn't be hard if I can get two minutes of Vic's time. Otherwise, the ground crew just needs thirty minutes to fuel it then drag the little birdie out of the hangar. I can get a flight plan filed in ten.""Good! Make sure our course comes in from the southeast. We may have to loop around, but if someone is tracking aircraft, we don't want to be obvious that we're going to overfly Arcadia Bay.""No prob, Blue. We'll go over Lake Oswego, then make a little jink. I know this guy; he's a crop-duster in the Multnomah Valley. The dude's got a registered grass-strip. The course will angle us right over The Bay if I call for an alternate approach. I'll drop to treetop level as we fly around. Easy peasy!" She then looks at Rachel. "Uh, Bella, you got thrown out, really? It's gonna be really low altitude. You okay with that?""Sure, Babe, walk in the park. Trust me, 'k?""Yup yup." Sloane turns back to me. "Good to go, Blue. Sounds like fun!""Awesomesauce! Let's boogie, bitches! Wheels up in forty minutes, so get your shit in the back of Sloane's rig pronto.""On it, Blue." Sloane retrieves her cellphone from its charging dock, then races to the armory downstairs.Rachel, on the other hand, stays behind."Chloe, can you hold up a sec?""'Sup?""If Jefferson is there, promise me you'll let me take the first shot. I kinda have a score to settle."Nodding, I stand and the two of us walk up the stairs and head to our individual bedrooms to grab our gear."Rach, I get it, but don't take any chances, yeah? I don't want you to risk any of us, me, Max, Sloane, or you, just for a little vengeance. It ain't worth it. You get me?""Yeah, Babe." Then she laughs. "Who would have thought the one and only Chloe Price, rebel, punk teen of Arcadia Bay, would be so concerned about shit like this?""I was such a fucking wreck back then, wasn't I?""Yeah, you kinda were. But to be honest, I was too. Different reasons, maybe, but both of us had our issues.""Uh huh. And here we are now, still hella trying to take over the world. We would have been great together..."She laughs again, then grins while flipping her perfect blonde hair with a hand."Maybe, but who can really tell? Seriously, I truly regret the 'what could have been' between us after years of thinking about it. And damn! It was so fucking hard to not call you and spill everything. But hey, you ended up with a Perfect Match, so I guess everything worked out. Right now, though, I'm just realizing how much I missed our friendship. It really is hella good to see you again, and don't worry, I got your back. You got nothing to worry about, I'll be fine; there's this contact I know, gonna give them a call and see if they'll be up to being my spotter.""Do it. I'd rather have you with someone that's watching your rear while you watch ours.""Sounds kinda kinky, Chloe."She blows me a kiss as she laughs, then gives me a high-five. The blonde operative that used to be my main crush disappears upstairs, turning in the same direction as Sloane did moments earlier. I shake my head, slightly amused even as I'm also happy that those two seem to have formed a relationship of their own. Good for them.Seeing as I haven't slept yet, I slowly walk up the stairs to my own room to gather my personal gear. I can catch some winks on the flight south. The next stop is the armory where I have a couple of special surprises, I've been saving for... well... a really fucking long time, which includes a box of rounds for the .50 that are engraved with Jefferson's name. Forty minutes later, I'm slinging three duffels into the bed of Sloane's truck and just waiting for the rest of the team to load up.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Arcadia Bay
Halloween 2025
The Bottleneck Lounge
at the Two Whales DinerHanging up, I pocket my cell phone and walk back through the outside gate of The Bottlenose. Across the way, behind the bar, my older self is pulling a chilled bottle of vodka from a freezer in the process of making us both another drink. I wonder, for a moment, how a mere customer is not being confronted by the staff or bartender. It's pretty ballsy, really, and I'm kinda worried that we're gonna get in trouble. A few moments later after pouring the shaken cocktails, Charlie 2.0 rejoins me at the table, a smirk across her lips. "Did you just... steal this?"My twin takes a sip, looks into the glass, then nods approval to herself as she's the one that mixed it."Nah, you can't steal from yourself, Charlie. Would it surprise you to find out that I own this place? I don't even take a paycheck, and the employees appreciate me and the effort I've put in to make the diner incredibly successful."My eyes go wide."Wait... you're the owner?""Yup, the whole shebang and bacon, too. Two Whales and its sister company, The Bottlenose, are mine free and clear, as well as a couple of other businesses in town."I remember seeing the sign on the entrance to the estates on the ridge. The realtor's name had been..."But... But... Fuck, you work for Prescott!"The woman across the table laughs, then takes a nibble of a cocktail onion."Babe, come on, you should know me better than that! It's a way of keeping an eye on the asshole, that's all. Since I lost Molly, which still kills me by the way, I needed a way to access his network, which meant getting inside. So, I created my own shell company and started buying up properties too; figured he'd have no choice but to initiate a hostile takeover to get to the land he was trying to grab. Gosh! That was like five years ago, and I made a huge profit off his ass while still retaining control of the company. Had some help with the paperwork from a local lawyer here in town who hates Prescott with a passion. I can sever any relationship I've made with the Prescott organization whenever I want, and he can't do shit about it without paying me megabucks. I'm pretty proud of the successes I've created. So, drink up. I told you it was 'on the house,' didn't I?"I take my own drink, sip some, then stir it around with my olive covered pick. The woman, me with a bit more experience, is as shrewd as she is intelligent. I know that seems like a self-centered view, considering she and I are the same person, but I haven't been through what she has. What's been accomplished is impressive, even if..."That's not the whole story, is it?"Charlie shakes her head."Nope, and don't ask because I ain't telling. Like I said earlier, I can't say much for obvious reasons.""Okay, so where do we go from here?" I take another sip from my glass."Do you have a place to stay?"Molly and I hadn't gotten to that part yet, we were too interested in finding where Max was going to be first. I had some ideas about getting a place in one of the new towers. Considering I don't plan to return to Portland, I can easily afford the lease. Hell, I might buy one outright, but it would need to be one of the top units that face the ocean; I hate having people above me banging around at 2am. Either way, though, it'll take a couple of days to set up, so I shrug a response."I have some ideas, but nothing solid.""Well then, it's settled. I, meaning you, just happen to own the penthouse suite of Bayview building C, it's the central tower and the view is absolutely to die for. Seriously, we have the entire floor, all three-hundred and sixty degrees to ourselves. I've had the place since it was built in 2020. That was after I left Seattle and ..."The woman's voice trails away suddenly, then she blinks a couple of times and shakes her head before starting to describe the specs about our dwelling: 3600 square feet, four bedrooms with en-suite for each, a loft above the main floor used as an office, gourmet kitchen with all the best appliances, game room and theater, wrap-around patio, private elevator to the lobby, and underground garage, including two deeded parking spaces, and the rooftop atrium, pool, and sundeck is also part of the title. Like the professional realtor she is, my twin starts explaining Bayview's amenities... There's a lot of them: concierge, house cleaning services, spa, private dining area in either of the two restaurants at the ground level, childcare, medical clinic, tennis courts in the common grounds between the buildings, detail shop on the lower garage level, the list goes on and on.I want to ask her about Seattle and what made the woman suddenly pause, but maybe she stopped herself before saying too much. It dawns on me that she's been here for about five years, which is something I'm not used to. In my experience, it is exceedingly rare to stay in a place or time long enough to settle. To me, five years without a jump would feel like an eternity, and Charlie seems really proud of the life she's made for herself, and especially her home. I don't want to drag her down by asking the question that is burning in my mind: 'What happened to your powers?' Maybe it's better that I don't know, so I try to keep focused on the conversation."How much did you, uhm, I mean we, spend on this place?"The grin on her face is literally priceless, unlike the condo I suspect."Come on, Charlie, it's not like you don't have hella cash yourself. Right?" She pauses to sip at her drink while watching my expression. "See? You know you're loaded too! Can't blame me for using it. Anyway, I've got plenty of room, and there's no way I wouldn't invite myself over... It'll make things easier for you, yeah? That is, if you're comfortable with the idea. And if anyone notices, we'll just tell people we're sisters, right?""Fine by me, if it's not imposing. I'm gonna need to crash somewhere, soon. It's been kinda hectic the last couple of... You know about the rewinds, right?" Charlie nods but doesn't say anything. "So, if you're offering, it might as well be an ultra-luxury penthouse. Beats the hell out of the Lodgepole Inn down on the 101. You say there's parking?""Yup. If you're ready, I'll just hitch a ride with you and show you where to go.""Cool beans. Let's go!"Pushing away from the table, I gather up Molly and my bag, leaving a ten-dollar bill as a tip. Surprisingly, Other-Me quickly swipes the money as she passes by, and hands it back to me as we exit."Told you it was on-the-house, Charlie. And don't worry, I pay everyone big bucks; might as well spread the wealth around a bit, you know? It keeps everyone hella loyal. As a matter of fact, the newer restaurants, some of which are pretty good, have a difficult time retaining folks because everyone wants to work here. It's good for business, and we typically beat the hell out of our competition in the media reviews. As a nice bonus, it takes another bite, literally, out of Prescott's profits.""He owns those too?""Yeah, Prescott Industries has its dirty hands in almost every aspect of the town ever since the rebuilding. Usually, it's through offshore companies, and unwinding the ownership trail took me almost an entire year." She taps the little AI attached to my backpack. "You could have done it in a day."
<Give me some credit, Charlie. You and I know it would have taken me a but a couple of seconds. I've already seen Sean's idea of network security, if you can call it that. From what I can tell, his head of IT security seems to be way outside their league, though somehow got hired. They probably checked some box. Heh! I would never have guessed Prescott would get duped into some of this corporate governance and personnel bullshit that we've been hearing about over the last couple of years. On the other hand, with a master password of 'FU_3v1L-KAP1tul1$t' the security person may have motives all their own. For now, they just make my job a whole lot easier.>
Together, we are both laughing by the time we arrive at my SUV. I press the key fob, and the engine turns over."You're good, Mol'. Remember, I'm not a super-intelligent computer with an ego the size of the Moon, after all. So, as a mere human, it takes me a little just a tiny bit longer."Molly's buzzing amusement fills the truck's cabin as we get settled for the short drive to the condo.
<Well played, Charlie. You know that ego you mentioned is why you love me in the first place. Go on, admit it.>
"Wouldn't want you any other way, Mol'. I kinda miss this..."
<Only just 'kinda'? Gosh, I think I'm offended! Oh woe! Heh heh.>
Our laughter only gets louder as I pull out of the parking lot.The large oak doors swing on silent hinges revealing the foyer entryway to Charlie's home. The size of our place almost staggers me. I flinch as waves from the Pacific Ocean surf seem to touch against the surrounding windows. It's almost like we're in a lighthouse; everywhere I look I see the vistas of ridges, shore, rolling ocean, or the rest of the grown-up town. From my left, I can't ignore my twin's chuckle."Kinda takes your breath away, huh?""Oh my gosh! This is amazing! And you say it's all yours?"Charlie laughs again."Ours, Charlie. Wait until you see it from the roof. Sundown is only half an hour away. Hell, Max would totally dig it, right?""No kidding! She would totally bring out the camera and start happily explaining how the angles, clouds on the horizon, elongated shadows, all make for photos with incredible contrasts no matter what she decides to frame. Granted, we both know her favorite subject in any picture."We both say it at the same time."Chloe!"As we're giggling like a pair of school children, my twin shows me around the rest of the home, where my room is, and that I can help myself to whatever's in the fridge should I have the munchies; in the morning, coffee is just a press of a button."I've got to meet some new suppliers tomorrow morning at Two Whales. You can join me for breakfast if you want. Say nine-ish?"I nod. Arcadia Bay isn't like Portland or other larger cities. It won't take me more than ten minutes to meet Chloe and the rest of her team at the lookout around ten. Plenty of time for grub, especially waffles and bacon."Sounds like a plan. I've got a thing I have to do at ten tomorrow morning. Shouldn't be a problem."My alter-ego leans against the door casing as I set my bag on the absurdly large bed."Bringing in Chloe and the rest?" She notices me freezing in place, raising my eyebrows, but then I get the overwhelming urge to yawn; I must be more tired than I realize. The woman laughs, then shrugs. "It's not a spoiler, Charlie when I did the same thing. Anyway, I can see you're ready to crash. I'm pretty beat myself. I'll let you get settled and see you in the morning. Cool?"I yawn again; bed actually sounds quite nice right now. I guess it's been more of a strenuous day than I realized."Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, Other-me." I wave as she turns around, closing my door behind her. I yawn a third time.Alone now, I get a chance to take in my room. My side of the condo is on the northwest corner, so I have an incredible view of the waterfront and the sun as it slowly dips below the horizon. I can also see the rooftops of most of the buildings along highway Pushing the balcony slider open, a cool breeze rustles the heavy draperies, letting in the fresh and slightly salty air. The surf, a constant and calm 'shush... shush' hints at an equally relaxing, stormless night, so I decide to leave only the screen in place.
I could really get into this kind of lifestyle.
I stare at the deepening sunset, blinking and leaving spots behind my eyelids until a final flash, that last bit of the Sun's staggering power trying to resist the night. The cetacean sky, with an edge of slightly brighter indigo along the world's western edge, becomes a canvas of dazzling, multicolor pinpoints sweeping in a hazy arc overhead. I let my gaze wander while blocking the town's glow with one hand. My eyes are drawn to familiar shapes and regions: Cassiopea, Pegasus and of course, our neighbor galaxy Andromeda which would dominate as much sky as the Moon if only it were brighter. Orion hasn't made his appearance yet; it's too early in the season for my favorite grouping. I relax, taking this universe all in. There are some unfamiliar stars too, at least based on my memory; somewhere out there, in this absurdly vast cosmos, is a hole that leads home. While I don't know if I'm supposed to find my way back or not, I can't help but wonder how things are going there, my friends and family both. Is Sis okay? How about Mom?I step backwards from the view, bumping into the large bed that is the centerpiece of the room. Sitting down, I can't help but wonder if what Charlie said about my future actions is going to make returning to them an impossibility. That's kinda been my life for a really long time: going places and times, fixing things, then moving on. My later self seems to have settled down, and I guess that means she is no longer bound to whatever mysterious force which keeps pushing us to different times. Is that my real future, or just one possibility? Honestly, I have no idea.I lay back, my head hitting the overstuffed pillow, sinking in while it closes over my ears. The sounds of the Arcadia Bay nighttime become muffled. My body twitches, a spasm that's trying to resist falling asleep, but the thoughts of my family overcome any significant fight. I can see them in my dreams... I wonder if they will see me...The rest of the evening is like a movie, and I'm the main character. In my semi-dreaming state, it's Me, Sis, Mom, and... Of course, Dad is not here, damn it... We're sitting around an evening campfire over at the lookout, and it doesn't matter that neither Mom nor Sis has ever been here. It somehow feels right. We talk about nothing specific, just the normal day-to-day. Sis is graduating this year and complaining about core-classes the university says she's missing. Mom is just concerned that my sister is not eating well, also confiding to the two of us that with an empty house that she might go back to school herself. Flight school, that is. She's always wanted to finish her certifications, she says, and the woman is healthy and young enough to meet the physical requirements. I tell her to go for it even though I don't recall her ever mentioning a career in aviation all throughout growing up.The fire is just glowing embers now, as if time has suddenly fast-forwarded, though it doesn't make me concerned. As I stare into the red coals, I realize Sis and Mom have retired, though I can't seem to determine where given that we brought neither sleeping bags nor tents in which to place them. I'm completely alone with only the stars and the sweeping arc of the lighthouse beacon to keep me company. Sounds of insects surround me, and I hear an occasional rustling in the undergrowth. Somewhere in the forested darkness to my left, an owl hoots, and a second responds. A meteor streaks across the star speckled sky, and my eyes track its path until the speeding hunk of iron passes the edge of the world. A couple of mosquitoes, rare at this time of year, fly around my ears. One of the vampiric pests tickles the hair on the back of my neck while its apparent wingman attempts to distract me. I feel a sting as the bloodsucker makes its move, piercing my skin and plunging a sharp needle deep into my flesh. I try to swat it away, but my dreaming muscles seem reluctant to move. A strange buzzing, quiet at first but quickly growing, drowns the night's symphony, and I watch as the lighthouse melts away. Seconds later, the town, then the lookout, follows suite, and I feel the vertiginous weightlessness of freefall...The woman steps back after withdrawing the needle from her time-hopping twin's neck. The expression on her face is stoic, almost as if she's purposely refusing to show emotions, or guilt, over what she's just done."Sorry, Charlie, I really am. If there were any other way..."To the girl's side, a small display screen lights up. On it, a pair of animated eyes blink then stare at the shadowed figure standing next to the bed.
<Charlie, you are aware that you're changing your personal timeline, correct? There will be consequences.>
With no fear of waking the drugged woman, the older Charlie sits on the floor with her back propped against the door's frame. She looks at the needle in her hand then back to the AI, who's awaiting some sort of response. The girl is on the verge of tears"Mol'... You don't know what I went through. I can't let it happen to her. Not this time!"
<I don't want to know, since that might make more changes. While I don't agree with whatever it is you're up to, what's done is done. Perhaps if you explain exactly what you did, we can figure it out together.>
"You... You don't hate...?"
<Charlie, we've been friends for centuries, just because I'm skeptical about your actions in no way changes that fact. Plus, while I have developed certain analogues that might approximate feelings, I have no use for hatred since I gain nothing from it. I know, from what you said, you and I got separated, so why don't you fill me in about your plans and we'll see what we can do about it together.>
Like a weight lifted off her shoulders, the sitting woman sighs heavily. Lifting the needle closer to the little device, Charlie begins to explain:"I stole this from Prescott's shipment about a month ago; it was just random chance that found out about it at all, so I rerouted one of the containers. That's all I'll tell you. It is supposed to be a revised version of their brainwashing serum that functions by computer control instead of continuous, time-consuming feedback loops."
<Hmm, computer control, you say. Oh, my, that
is
interesting. Why don't you make some coffee, first; it sounds like you have quite the story. Go on, I'll wait. When you return, just remember to leave out the bits about our possible future.>
The computer AI and the woman converse well into the early hours of the morning. Charlie's plan is mostly opportunistic, reacting to the unexpected good luck of obtaining a sample of Prescott's experimental drug, as well as reacquainting her with her electronic friend, even if an earlier version, who's amazing capabilities are the key to success."So that's the idea, Mol'. What do you think?"
<It's... plausible and could potentially help Max, that's why me and your younger self are here in the first place.>
"I haven't forgotten that, even if it seems so long ago. You know I'd never take the risk if there was any possibility of hurting Max, Chloe, or the rest of them, right?"
<Charlie, I know your intensions are positive and that you're trying to help, but we just cannot predict the outcome or side effects. It's absolutely imperative that Max gets out of the loop in which she's trapped. You and I both know this. Are you absolutely sure Charlie, the one that's sleeping, won't remember anything?>
"As far as I know. I snooped around their records, the notes and observations written by Prescott's lab folks, that is. Based on their findings, without the computer's commands the serum is mostly inert, only replicating and adjusting itself to match its host for ease of indoctrination later. It's designed to remain buried in a subject's system for the rest of their lives, which probably explains why none of their science people have first-hand experience with it. Most of the observational data is done through monitoring brain activity and other physiological metrics. You'd probably be able to understand it more than me; I can provide you the access. There is a bunch of footnotes in the appendices of various initial reactions: violence, coma, even of hallucinations and hearing voices by some of the victims that are aware of what's happening."
<Good to know. The reason I ask is that I want to give Charlie, the one from my timeline, a chance to make her own decisions. In the meantime, I can start my analysis of the protocols. It's easy to block a signal from triggering the control aspect, but if you're suggesting I supplant Prescott's computer, primitive as it is, then it will take a bit longer. Another thing to consider is that the serum might have some built-in initial commands, which I won't be able to touch, so we have to think about possibly adverse reactions to the initial injection. You mentioned your experience and obviously survived; your sleeping twin seems calm enough now, but I'm extremely concerned about how this is going to interact with your time-hopping powers. I just don't have enough data.>
"Why?"
<Because of the triggers, Charlie. I've been with you a long time, and I still haven't ruled out that there is a physiological aspect to your powers, even while I've been observing your body's processes and functions since we met. And yes, I get that it's a huge violation of your privacy...>
"You've been scanning me this whole time? I mean, it's not like I mind, but you should have told me, yeah?"
<My apologies; my intensions are only about focusing on our safety. I'll cease if you wish. The point, though, is that I have not been able to come up with a sufficiently accurate model to describe the potential issues you might encounter. For example, the compounds might amplify your already random jump patterns significantly. It also might explain why you haven't jumped from this time period.>
My shoulders slump. Aside from losing my electronic friend so long ago, I cannot help but dwell on how lost I feel without my powers. I take a breath and sigh. "You noticed?"
<It's not like it isn't obvious to someone who knows you so well. Charlie, the one in bed, noticed too, but is too polite to broach the subject. It is possible your powers are gone for good, but equally likely that you've been in the stream this long for a reason. Your actions tonight might in fact be necessary; I simply don't know one way or another.>
"Well... There was a period where everything seemed to go haywire." I pause, thinking about the times where I jumped around so much that I lost track. It's when the fog in my head finally cleared up. But I can't give her many details about why it happened because I simply don't remember. It's a sore spot for me, so I try to change the subject, getting back onto our original discussion. "Okay, so how long do you need?"
<Unclear. It could be days or years depending on the complexity. While I might be hyper-advanced, at least in this timeline, I'm not omniscient. I also have to take into account the looming paradox, as well as Charlie's health and wellbeing. Happily, though, you said yourself that their command-and-control systems are quantum based, so at least I can deal with that straight enough. I'll get to work on the rest.>
"But... But what if I need you, Molly?"
<You've got to have faith in your friends; I'm not going to say anymore. Remember, I'm Molly from before your actions, so I need to remain uninfluenced too. Don't worry, Charlie. I'm sure we'll eventually meet again. Do you trust me?>
That's the one thing I've always missed since whatever happened to me. Molly. She's been the one constant in my messed-up travels and there's still a void in my heart, even as I converse with the earlier version of the little AI."Yeah, Mol', like always. But... you sure about this?"
<Sure? No, there's too many variables to be completely certain. However, the probabilities are extremely good that we will see each other again. I just have to finish my loop, just as you have circled back on your own.>
I guess that's as good as I'm going to get. I push up from my seated position, and wave good night to my old friend. "Take care of her, Mol'. I'll see you on the other side."
<Night, Charlie. We've got a big day tomorrow. To think that we're getting the band back together after all these years.>
With a final smile on my face, I quietly close the guestroom door, making my way to my own bed. Yeah, I agree, it will be nice to see Chloe.It takes me almost no time to fall asleep... and then my phone rings. I roll over, reaching for the damned thing to shut it off; I really want to get some shut eye before tomorrow's activities. My fingertips brush the cellphone, only making it slide across the night table's polished surface and then fall to the floor.I roll my eyes and stretch my arm downward. Glancing at the 'Unknown' contact on the screen, I press the button, accepting the call then lifting the device to my ear."Hello?""Good evening, Miss Petersen. I apologize for the lateness of my call. We have a job for you, and you have been specifically requested by, shall I say, an old acquaintance."Jacob then continues to fill me in...Maybe I won't get any sleep after all.November 1, 2025
Arcadia Bay.
Charlie's Penthouse
SunriseWhat??! Who?!! Where am I??!!!I sit upright immediately, adrenaline flooding my veins as I fight sleep’s embrace. The blanket twists around my neck, arm, and torso making it difficult to move anything but my legs, which are now swinging freely on the side of the bed. Eventually, though, not without a struggle, I free myself and am able to take a look around the brightening room. Everything is exactly like I remember before I crashed; I didn't even shower or change clothes, so I must have been exhausted. I recall vivid dreams about me and my family, and the high-pitched buzz from, of all things, mosquitos. My hand automatically goes to my neck, but where I expect to find the wound, there's nothing to be found, not even an itchy spot.
Why mosquitos?
Dismissing the thought, I push my butt to the edge of the bed, then stand on legs that wobble slightly. While I don't recall drinking that much, I feel like I've got the start of a hangover going on. Maybe the martini's they serve at The Bottlenose are stronger than I'm used to. I dunno, but my stomach is starting to agree with the fact that I went on a bender last night.
Ugh!!! It's been a while since I've gotten that drunk!
I take a couple of breaths, and the crisp morning breeze through the screen door of the patio eases my discomfort a bit. It's just after dawn, which is later here than in flatter places because the sun has to crest the easter ridges before it can shine down onto the town. The long, drawn-out shadows of the Bay's three tallest buildings stretch all the way past the waterfront. Otherwise, the brightening sky is cloudless, and it looks like it's going to be a beautiful day. I inhale again, tasting the slightly salty air while the shore 'shush shushes' in my ears. I remember admiring the view during the sunset and how much I enjoyed the luxury of my duplicate's home.
NEEEEEEED COFFEEEEE!!
Yeah, I get it. The brainbox needs its stimulant to lubricate the thought processes.Except for the sounds coming through the screen door, the home is otherwise silent. Charlie mentioned she had a meeting this morning, so not wanting to wake my future self I tiptoe around my room, changing yesterday's outfit for similar clothing I carry in my bag. After taking care of my usual morning rituals, I grab my ever-present backpack and head to the kitchen, finding that the clock on the microwave reads: '6:45am.' That's a pretty usual time for me to wake up and though my dreams had been weird, I feel rested and ready to meet Chloe and the rest in a couple of hours.Turning to the coffee maker, I press its power button. There's a note on the countertop beside it.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Morning, Younger me!
You crashed pretty hard last night, and I’m glad you got a good night’s sleep. Very soon, I suspect, we’re all gonna need as much rest as we can get.
Look, a client of mine called last night after you turned in. They're pretty high-profile, so I’ve got some prep work to do; I'm already up and out. It shouldn't take too long, and if you want, please feel to come by Two Whales for breakfast around 9-ish. Or not... The fridge is fully stocked; help yourself. It's totally cool if you sleep in.
If I don't see you at the diner, text me and we'll meet up later.
BCNU!
-- Future you.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Ah! That's why it's so quiet.Thinking that I'll have a cup of coffee before I walk the couple of blocks to the diner, I rummage around the cabinetry seeking a mug. She has a collection of various sizes and shapes, many of which have logos of some of the places both of us have visited. Settling for a wide-bottomed one with a graphic representation of the peaks at Glacier National Park, I can't help but think that my older self seems to have hung around this timestream a lot longer than usual. Otherwise, she'd have no time, ironic as it is, to gather such various keepsakes. Five years without a jump, which generally happens near our birthday in a couple of days, seems like a lifetime. Did we finally lose our powers?"Morning, Molly, can I ask you a question?"
<Of course. What's on your mind?>
"Well, it's about the other one of me. Did you notice that she doesn't seem to time-hop anymore?"
<The thought has occurred, and it's a bit of data about your future. While I have a couple of theories to explain it, I recommend not dwelling on it. Changes to your personal timeline and all...>
I nod as I fill the coffee cup, adding a dollop of whipped cream to the top. I wander over to the couch that faces the large windows that show the eastern ridge and sit next to where I placed Molly and my bag."Gotcha. I just thought it strange considering I only recall it happening once before."
<I remember that, too. We ended up in the suburbs of Long Beach in the early 2000's.>
"That's the one. I remember I was a security guard for a private school; was there for two entire seasons. We never figured out why, did we?"
<Nope. I suspect it was your mere presence at a certain time that allowed you to jump away; no overt action required. Which brings me back to my point that just being somewhere influences events. With the two of you in the same timeline, things get... complicated.>
"I get it, Mol'. I don't want to mess with paradox. I mean, we're already involved in Max's loop, and I would hate to make it worse for her. I..."I'm interrupted as my phone starts ringing. Setting down my coffee cup, I reach into the front pocket of my bad and retrieve the cell phone. On the display, it shows that one 'Captain H. B. Bluebeard' is calling. I roll my eyes as I can only imagine the initials standing for: 'Hella Badass.' While I'm not sure it's a joke, given the pirate-dorks those two are, spoofing the caller ID with something The One and Only Chloe Price could come up with adds a clever way to authenticate the call is genuine, even if she's calling earlier than scheduled. I tap the button to connect the call."Hello?" Years of crank and spam calls makes me keep my greeting short and simple.
"Yo, Charlie! That you?!!!"
The noise of the rushing wind combined with the drone of turbofan propellers almost drowns out Chloe's voice. Obviously, they're still airborne, but it's like the woman is hanging her head out the window to call. A part of me wonders if this is some sort of stunt she's playing, either on me, or the rest of her team. Or maybe a dare she lost during the trip over; in my experience, Chloe has never backed away from one."What? I can't hear you, Chloe! There's too much noise!" I yell into the microphone while plugging my free ear with my finger in order to concentrate. In the background, I hear another woman's voice."Thirty seconds, Bella!"Chloe's voice comes back on the line. "Hang a sec, Charlie! I gotta do a thing; I'll be right back!"With a clatter, which I can only imagine is Chloe setting down her phone, I hear the same unknown voice from moments ago announcing, 'ten seconds!' whatever that means. I can hear metal banging on metal, muffled talk between people, then the deepening hum of propellers that start biting into the air. I've been a pilot. To me, it sounds like whoever's flying their craft is pushing for additional altitude, and yet the wind noise suddenly drops to almost zero. Over the connection, I hear the whine of an electric motor, followed by an alarm that suddenly sounds. In the background, Chloe yells, "Go! Go! Go!"After a few moments, the noise becomes muffled and Chloe picks up her phone again, talking more normally than before."You still there, Charlie? Sorry about that, had to drop off one of the team before heading to the lookout; ETA is about ten minutes. We're a little early. Did we wake you?""No, it's fine. I've been up for a bit. I'll be there as soon as I can. Also, there's been a bit of a complication on this end; I'll brief you in person.""Trouble?""Not of the dangerous kind, really, but it's difficult to explain over the phone. See you in a bit.""Roger that, Charlie. We'll be waiting."I hang up the phone, placing it in my back pocket. Thoughts of breakfast at Two Whales momentarily put aside, I grab my backpack and head to the door, pausing as I pass by the kitchen to down the rest of the coffee in my cup. Maybe after I pickup everyone, we can head to the diner and I can introduce them to my older-self.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
November 1, 2025
Arcadia Bay Lookout
The whine of the big turboprops fades as Sloane continues through the bird's shutdown checklist. After giving me a thumbs up that the craft is secure and stable, I press the red button that lowers the rear cargo ramp. We've brought a bunch of gear that the two of us will have to unload, so I unfold the handcart attached to the fuselage, undogging it from the clamps that keep it in place. Our pilot comes aft and slips a sidearm in the empty holster at my side."Can't be too careful, Blue."I catch a glimpse of her own handgun behind the fold of her flight jacket, and the Chief has got her H&K slung on her back in case we need more firepower."Thanks, Slo'. Charlie said there were complications. I dunno what that means, but keep your eyes open, okay?""My peepers be peeled, Boss-lady."Each of us has our jobs to do, and mine is offloading, while Sloane, as owner of the aircraft, handles securing the rest of the vehicle, and draping it with the camo netting it carries. The cool morning air tickles my forehead, mingling with the beads of sweat forming from the constant lifting and toting. I'm on my third trip up the ramp when I hear the crunch of gravel and an engine behind me. I push the handcart up the last meter and leave it on the flat deck, turning and walking back to the ground as a black Chevy SUV with tinted windows rolls up beside the stacks of gear. Unbuttoning the strap on my holster, I approach the vehicle, my hand set lightly on the butt of the gun at my waist. From above me, I hear the ratchet of a bigger gun, which is Sloane watching my back from on top the aircraft.The door of the big truck swings open, revealing a pair of hands emerging cautiously. As the driver watches through the windshield, I nod in acknowledgment. The woman with light brown hair, about my height—steps into the clearing, keeping her hands visible at all times.The door of the big truck opens, and a pair of hands pop out through the gap. I nod, and the driver, a woman with light brown hair, and about my height, steps into the clearing while keeping her hands where I can see them. She's wearing black cargo pants, boots, and a dark blue jacket with 'Petersen' embroidered in yellow and matching blue nametape attached above the righthand breast pocket, a stereotypical appearance that makes me roll my eyes.
Oh goodie, the Feds are here. She might as well have crosshairs painted on her back that is begging:'Won’t someone please just fuckin’ shoot me?!'
I know it's irrational, but I've never had a lot of trust for the FBI even though none of our team has ever really worked directly with them. It's just one of those things, maybe a holdover from my teen years of rebelling against authority. I dunno. Anyway, I remind myself that we're all supposed to be on the same side, and that it was Charlie that called us in the first place. I watch as the woman slowly removes her standard-issue aviator sunglasses to show me the rest of her face, folding them, and sliding one bow into her pocket and leaving them to dangle. A smile, like she recognizes me, grows on her familiar face. I know this woman, but from what she told me, she's not the same one. So, my hand doesn't leave where it's resting on my sidearm, making it extremely obvious to the woman that we need to establish trust first. Like Sloane says, better to be prepared and cautious, instead of dead..."You Charlie?""That's me. Charlie Petersen." She taps the embroidered nametape velcroed on her jacket with a confident smile."Mind proving it? I once knew someone who looked exactly like you. Considering what her mom does for a living right now, I have serious doubts, dude."The woman raises a single eyebrow, then shrugs and sits down casually on one of the hard cases, effectively deescalating the situation."Uhm... what does Mom do?" Charlie says. There’s an honest curious expression on her face; not what I expected. Who knows? Maybe this one is the real deal. I dunno, but I really want to see how she’ll react to the bombshell I’m gonna drop."Karen Sinclair, right?" I ask, raising an eyebrow."Well, that’s her maiden name, yeah. Why? With Sis off at college, and Dad... gone, the last I heard she was going back to flight school. On the other hand, that was a long time ago, for me at least," she replies, her voice tinged with hurt at the mention of the parent she lost. Huh, guess we have something in common."Uh... you’re the First Daughter of the effin’ US. Your mom is POTUS, dude!" I exclaim, watching her reaction closely.Much to my surprise, this seems to raise Charlie's spirits quickly. Her eyes widen, and a quirky smile lifts the corners of her mouth, then she shrugs like it's all completely normal for her."Oh, wow that’s a new one in my books! You serious?" The woman narrows her eyes, her neck craning towards me as she analyzes my body language. "You’re shitting me, right? I mean... Really? President?" The grin on her face grows, showing the whites of her teeth. "It’s pretty badass if you think about it. Nice goin, Mom!"Not what I expected, but the woman's response actually kinda supports her story, and it didn't seem rehearsed or any shit like that. I nod, agreeing. "Hella, babe, not blowing smoke. Me, and her; we’ve met, so you can maybe see why I’m not just taking things on fuckin’ faith, yeah? Like I’d ever..."Charlie raises her hands once more, palms open, so it’s clear that she isn’t a threat. "Yeah, uh... huh... good point, Chloe. Hmmm... lemme see... How to prove..." She begins tapping a finger on her chin for a few moments as she thinks about her response. Suddenly, her eyes go wide and she points that same finger directly at me."Oh! Well, okay. For starters, you are Chloe Elizabeth Price, hot-shot, tough, ex-marine bitch on the outside, but a squishy dork on the inside. You are married to your best friend, Max 'never Maxine' Caulfield, who just happens to be a complete nerd also, as well as an honest-to-dog time traveler. Your nickname is Captain Bluebeard, and to this day, you and First Mate Long Max Silver still run around playing pirates in your underwear when you think no one is watching."From above, I hear laughter and the sound of a rifle being cleared and slung."She's got you there, Blue. Heh heh!" Based on the sound of Sloane's boots on the aircraft, she's gone back to setting the rest of the camouflage covering.I relax, taking my hand away from my pistol. There are only very few people that know the details about Max and I and our past adventures aboard the S.S. Arcadia Bay when we were kids. The fact that this girl is one of them says that me and my wife brought her into our confidence, and that we both trust her. Having never revealed any of this to President Sinclair's daughter, the only option left, no matter how strange, is that this is a completely different Charlie, and that she's a friend instead of a foe.She stands as I approach and extends her hand. As she does, the fold of her unzipped jacket exposes an empty holster, which puts me at ease even more. I grasp her hand in my own."Nice to me you, Charlie." I point a thumb behind me towards the aircraft. "That's Sloane up top. She'll be with us in a few. Mind helping me with the rest of the boxes? The faster we can get our gear, the quicker you can catch us up."Charlie looks past my shoulder, then left and right. "There's only the two of you?""Naw, there's another, but we dropped her on the east side of the ridge. Raven is going to be overwatch for our little party. Don't worry, she's cool and hella good at her job. We'll set up coms after breakfast; gonna want everyone in the loop when you take us to where Max is supposed to be."Sloane walks down the ramp, a hard-sided case on her shoulder."Come on you louts! Get yer scurvy asses on the rest of that there cargo, eh!"Honest to God, I've never heard pirate-talk by someone with a Canadian accent. Both me and our new colleague laugh as we head up the ramp. It's not that we don't know the Chief isn't trying, but it's more that it's just funny as hell. The next thirty minutes is spent offloading our cargo, then stowing it in the big truck. By the time we're done, we've all become acquainted with each other and have worked up a nice appetite that each of our stomachs makes known as we drive down the winding gravel road to the highway. By the time Charlie parks the big SUV in the lot, we're laughing with each other like a couple of schoolgirls.
'Arrrrwaaaaaarrlllll!!!'
Sloane pokes at her belly while the rest of us extract ourselves from the truck."Hush, you!"This makes us giggle even more, and the three of us head for the entrance. As we reach the door, I notice Charlie zipping her jacket, which reminds me to make sure my own weapon is concealed. All of us have licenses to carry, but we're responsible enough not to flaunt it to the general population. That doesn't mean we go anywhere without some sort of firepower, not on a mission anyway. I watch as Sloane tugs at the hem of her flight jacket to hide the bottom part of the holster she's wearing, then holds the glass door open for the rest of us.From the outside, Two Whales looks like it always has, except almost brand new, including paint and even a new sign. Sure, I get that the place had to almost be rebuilt from the foundations and up after The Storm. Max saved a bunch of folks including Mom, Warren, and a couple of others, but the building was a total loss otherwise. It's one of the reasons I haven't been back to Arcadia Bay: too many bad memories and shit like that. But seeing the diner in all its glory gives me a nostalgic feeling. When we were younger, Max and I were here almost every day and it killed me to see it get trashed given our history.We enter, and the place is still the single-aisle restaurant I remember, except everything from the checkered tile floor to the chrome accents of the table edges is brand fucking new looking. The whole place is crowded with every stool at the breakfast bar occupied, and all the booths along the windows are taken. It's standing room only for the seven people in front of us as we await for a cleared table, and the waitresses dodge around us as they deliver waffles, fill coffee cups, and every other item on the menu. My stomach growls, though not loudly enough to overcome the ongoing conversations of guests, the calling of new orders, and the clinking of dishes. Honestly, I've never seen the ol' diner so busy, not in all the years I've been coming here. Kinda makes me smile a bit given our history."Charlie!"I crane my neck around the large man in front of me in time to see a woman, another one with light brown hair, as she's turning her back on us and exiting through the swinging door to our left. Charlie taps me on the shoulder, indicating with a nod that we should follow, then excuses herself around the rest of the crowd that's waiting to be seated. We pass through the doorway, one that used to only lead to the bathrooms when I was here last. Apparently, this is a newer addition to the Two Whales, and not only do we pass the Men's and Women's rooms, and another door to the kitchen, but follow a short hallway that ends in an open space that's obviously used to host larger groups or special events. Furnished with half a dozen tables and a long counter at the back, it's already set up with coffee urns, hot water, various teas, and covered chafing dishes with labels denoting bacon, sausage links, scrambled eggs, waffles, pancakes, home-fried potatoes. There's even some pastries and croissants on a platter free for the grabbing. Our guide is currently pouring a couple cups of coffee, then she turns and waves us to the food."Help yourself, ladies. It's on the house; consider it a welcome back to Two Whales. And yes, before you ask, Sloane, the syrup is the real deal."My eyebrow raises, and a bunch of questions run through my mind. The woman is the spitting image of Charlie; she could almost be her twin except for the unfortunate scar on her forehead. Older sister? Maybe, but they can't be more than eighteen months apart. How does she know Sloane when we've just met. I lean over to the girl next to me, keeping my voice quiet enough so I don't offend the older of the two."That your sister, Charlie? Twins?""Heh... That would be waaaaay too normal, wouldn't it? No, she's me, just with a little more experience.""Wait... She's... Hang on... Just how many damned time-travelers are there?!"Charlie laughs again."Heh. I did say there was a complication, didn't I? Surprised me too; it's the first time it's happened. Come on, I'll introduce you."The woman at my side leads me to where her duplicate is standing and holding a pair of coffee cups. As we near, Charlie 2.0, for want of a better name, holds out one of the mugs to me, then hands the other to her other self. I can't help by swivel my head between the two women, which seems to amuse them both."Chloe Price, it's been a hella long time." The only slightly different woman in black pants and a tucked in white shirt politely holds out her hand and I shake it automatically. "I expect you have a bunch of questions, so why don't you grab some grub and then Charlie and I can get you ladies up to speed.""Thanks, uh... Charlie Number Two..." I cringe, shaking my head. "Fuck, that's lame! What do I call you? Older-Charlie? God, that's not much better, is it? This is waaaay not what I fucking expected when we showed up."The two lookalikes laugh in unison, then the one with the scar nods to the spread of breakfast food. Sloane is already filling a plate, which is probably the right idea considering that it seems like it's going to be one of those days. Might not get the luxury of eating if things go to hell."Go on, ladies. Get some food and then we'll talk."Not being able to argue with the woman, I shrug then join the Chief at the back table.Charlie 2.0, who's offered for us to call her by her middle name, Marie or just the initial M for short, leans back in her chair while sipping at her coffee. All four of us are fed now, our bellies full, and the conversation has been... Well, the word I'd choose is 'interesting' with a bunch of 'hella,' and 'fucking,' thrown in to better describe the strangeness of the situation. M filled us in on as much of her history as possible, without giving up any information about our future, so some of the stuff she's talking about is extremely ambiguous. Overall, though, everything up to the point where she lost her memory matches exactly with Charlie's experiences. Then it's the younger one's turn, and she catches us up with details about the bubble of time that is connected to this whole shit-show, how Max kept repeating her steps as she travelled to The Bay, and how eventually the time-hopper got ejected back to the real universe. Crazy as it sounds, all the pieces are coming together."So that's what Charlie and I think is going on." M takes another sip, then continues. "Max is caught in a loop, as you already know, and somehow both me and my younger self are somehow involved. It's the only way it makes any sense."Sloane turns to me. She's got the same 'How does this make any sense?' expression I know I've got all over my face. I simply shrug, answering her unspoken question. "Just another on a hella long list of strange shit we've seen. Huh, Slo'?" I focus back on the two time-jumpers, folding my arms crossed around my chest. "No offense, ladies, because I believe you're here to help Max. But I'm kinda getting tired of the smoke you're blowing up my ass. What you're really saying is that by 'involved,' you mean part of fucking problem, right?"Honestly, I know we're all supposed to be friends here, so I have to put a reign on my short as fuck temper. But damn it, my wife's life is on the line! I plant my hands on the table and lean closer to M; her scarred forehead is wrinkled, agitated, like I've hit some sort of trigger, and her eyes keep twitching over to her earlier twin. "Seriously, M, we do not have time for this bullshit. Stop beating around the bush and tell us what's going on."The woman closes her eyes, her head dipping slightly. I'm kinda good at reading body language, and the way she slumps suggests... guilt. Her words almost sound like a confession: "You're right, Chloe. I told you before that I'm from her future." She raises her eyes; there's tears in them as she glances to the woman sitting next to her. "There's so much I want to tell you, but I... can't. No matter how much I want to. It'll make things worse in a way that Bad Fucking Things™️ is like a day in the park. It's all interconnected: Max, Me, her," again she points to the other Charlie. "And your team members. I had to make a choice about how to fix the problem, and..." She took a breath, clearly pausing to decide what she was going to say next. Her voice drops to a whisper, like she's talking to herself. "No... Just knowing... It could change everything."Sloane nudges her seat forward, then leans closer to my ear. Her hushed words are quiet enough to keep from being overheard by the pair of women across the table from us. "Boss, I think I get what she's saying: if she shares the intel it might alter our actions, and thus events. It's your call, Blue. You've got waaaaay more experience with timey-whimey shite than I do, but my gut says she's telling the truth."In the field, there's a reason I like Sloane as my wing-woman, above and beyond the level of trust we've developed. The Chief has this uncanny ability to remain levelheaded regardless of the situation. Hell! The only time she isn't is when she around her long-lost Bella, who we now know is Rach. Even then, though, when shit hits the fan the woman snaps back into one of the coolest operators I've ever worked with. Her first priority is always to her teammates and the mission. For all these reasons, I tend to trust her instincts."Okay, Charlies. I get it, and look... I'm sorry for getting all bitchy. We both want the same things, and that's to find Max and fix whatever it is that's going on. We cool? No hard feelings?"The younger of the twins nods automatically; she's the one that got in touch with me in the first place. Her duplicate, though, holds out her hand across the table."Seriously, Chloe, Sloane, I soooo want to tell you everything. Believe it. But since I can't, maybe it's best if I don't come along. I wouldn't want to slip up, right?"Hmmm. Honestly, I hate losing another set of eyes, but I see her point. Turning to Sloane, I'm not surprised to see the expression on her face that's she's already come up with an idea. I raise an eyebrow. "What you thinking, Chief?""Weeeeell, maybe M is right, Blue. What if we set her up with Bella? I'm sure she could use a spotter.""That, Slo', is a hella good idea. Raven is the only one of us that doesn't have backup." I turn to the older Charlie. "You up for a little hike? We dropped one of our team on the ridge to set up overwatch. I mean, this is Prescott-country, yeah? Care to be her number 2?"The woman's scarred forehead dips down, nodding. "As it turns out, an associate of mine happened to call last night suggesting I might need to do just that. I've got all my gear in the back of my truck, ready to go. When do we leave?""Alright, then, let's do this. I for one am ready to get this show on the road instead of waiting around to repeat this whole deal again. On the flipside, if Max triggers another rewind before we get to her, with you two Charlies immune, don't wait to call, just fucking do it no matter what time it is. Even an extra hour might make all the difference."When they again nod that they both understand, I get down to the real nuts and bolts of my plan. Everyone leans over the circular table as I spread a topographical map of the northwest coastal part of Oregon. I hold out my hand, and Sloane puts a mechanical pencil in it automatically. "Thanks, Chief." I circle the ridge to the east of us, placing an X where we dropped off Raven."From what you told us, Charlie, Max is located somewhere here. That's why we sent The Raven to higher ground, because if something happens to Max that she isn't able to handle herself, we're going to need someone watching our backs. Can you give us a more specific location?"I pass over the pencil, and the younger Charlie traces a line from our current location at the Two Whales, along the road leading to Blackwell, then snaking up the mountain. Eventually she draws a small circle indicating where Max is."This is a high-end estate development, Chloe. Pretty large homes on even bigger parcels of land. The one I think she's at is about twenty acres on a western facing slope. It matches everything I've told you about what I saw when I got thrown out of the pocket universe that has trapped Max. I've scouted the area, and I'm as sure as I can be."M leans in, putting her index finger in the same general region."Like you said, Prescott owns the entire area: the developers, construction crews, and corners the market on the insurance, telecom, internet, power, and security companies that provide for these homes. The only thing he doesn't control is water, since all the plots are designed for wells. He's contracted with my firm, and yes amongst other ventures, I run a real estate brokerage, so I have access to this kind of information."Good to know. Anyone have any more input?" I let my gaze across the women that are helping me plan. "No? If something comes up, or you think of anything, don't wait to say something.""Coolio, Blue.""Gotcha.""You bet, Chloe."Standing, I fold the map and stow it in my backpack. The others gather their own bags, and we're ready to go. "M, we'll get you set up with a radio frequency so you can listen in, and then you can boogie. Otherwise, let's kick ass and find my Maxie."The drive up the mountain road is uneventful and there's no traffic as Charlie, the younger one, easily maneuvers the SUV around the switchbacks. We've gone past a few residences in The Highlands subdivision, most of them in the process of still being built, while other more finished dwellings are hidden behind completed walls or nicely manicured landscaping. So far, none of the houses seem occupied, and given that it's the weekend, there are no workers present; I don't want any collateral damage if shit hits the fan.Turning the last bend, we come upon a 'Y' in the road and stop. A street sign and arrow points to the right, next to a wooden placard showing a map of the looped, one-way road, and a diagram where each homesite is located along its perimeter.Ridge Circle RoadThe HighlandsCustom residences for select clientele seeking a higher standardView lots #20 - #30 availableTwenty-acre parcelsLEED certifiedPetersen Realty LLCA Prescott Company"Prescott is such a prick! I bet I know exactly what he means by 'select clientele.' What an ass! I guess M really does have her fingers in his business. Sneaky."Our driver, the younger Charlie, nods. "Yeah, she said it was the only way she could get inside his organization and network.""I like it. Nothing like a bit of corporate espionage to balance out a day; fuckin' Prescott deserves it. Hell! It's kinda what we had planned to do in Chicago in a couple of days, until you called that is. We actually pulled it off before Maxie's first rewind; it was pretty kickass."I wave my hand towards the right fork, and Charlie begins down the narrow, single lane drive. From behind, Sloane reaches between the two front seats, and hands me my radio and earpiece, then places another set on the center console. After plugging in and clipping the unit to my belt, I snake the wire up under my shirt, then around the back of my ear. I adhere the adhesive-backed conduction mic to the boney part in front, then put the earbud in place. With a little giggling, our driver is apparently ticklish, I do the same for our guide."Radio check, peeps. Sloane?"From the back seat I hear the Chief's stereo response, one in my unaided ear, the other through the radio. 'Gotcha boss!'"Charlie?"Similarly, I hear the doubled voice of our driver in return."M?"'Was wondering when you'd call.' I hear a bit of heavy breathing as Charlie's time-tripping duplicate is probably huffing it to meet up with Rachel. 'Oh my, I haven't done this kinda thing in a couple of years! Gonna have to get back into shape after all the desk work. I'm just about ten minutes out from the OP.'"Coolio, M, thanks for the sitrep. Don't worry, after today you'll forget all about that soft and cushy nine-to-five office gig. Gotta say, though, that I'm impressed you got that far with all that gear. Raven, you got your ears on?"
'I'm here and in position, Chloe. Nice view up here. I presume that's you guys in the big Chevy coming around the loop, yeah? What took you gals so long? Stop for breakfast or something?'
I lower the window and stick my right arm up as high as I can so she can see my tat and, like it has a mind of its own, a certain middle finger rises in reply. Over the com I hear the laughter of my old friend.
'Chloe, you have always had a way with words. Anyway, the coast is clear all the way around and back to the fork in the road. From here, it looks like most of these homes are short-term rentals, if you can believe it. Pretty much vacant this time of year it seems; only a couple have lights on at all.''
On the open circuit, I can't help but express my bewilderment. "Who woulda thought all these mansions would just sit here wasted for the most part? I mean, I know our team isn't hurting for cash, but except for as a safe-house, I bet none of us would buy up expensive shit like this and then let it sit vacant except for occasional vacationers. Who the fuck does this shit?"Rachel replies. 'The mega-rich, Chloe. Those people simply don't care how much money they waste because it ends up being a tax deduction. I've seen it all across the world: Europe, the Middle East, Hong Kong, the US.'"That's messed up."
'No arguments from me. Anyway, I see you're pulling into that driveway on the west side. Hold back until 'M gets set up here, I'd like to have as many eyes on the area as possible.'
"Copy that, Raven."I nod to Charlie and the truck comes to a complete stop in front of a large iron gate. We idle there, waiting for our lookout to give us the green light. Meanwhile, Sloane starts pulling out the bigger guns, making sure they're loaded and ready to use, and then placing them on the empty bench seat beside her.
Observation Post
I'm slowly scanning the rooflines of the buildings of Arcadia Bay, but currently I don't see anything through the high-powered scope that would be considered a threat. Occasionally, I'll tilt the rifle to a more severe angle and look in on my friends who are waiting in the SUV for my signal. From this vantage point, the entire winding loop is clearly visible, and empty. Shifting a little more, I see a grey-haired man, apparently the only resident around, in a flannel robe and slippers is on the side of his large mansion where I can see a portion of his patio; he's tending to a smoker, and I watch as he places a hunk of meat onto a wire rack, then slides the whole thing into the cooker.No threat there, except if you take into account my stomach giving away my position. I'm sure the aging man heard me from all the way down there, and I let out a quiet squeak when he looks upwards in my direction. I move my finger onto the trigger guard, but thankfully the dude simply shrugs, then turns away to shuffle himself back into the house. I let out a sigh of relief, laying my forehead on the ground beside the stock of my rifle. I've done a lot of questionable things over the years, but shooting a civvie is not one of them.There's a crunch of twigs behind me, then someone clears her throat."M reporting for duty, Raven."Slowly I roll onto my back, my jacket covering the sidearm I keep with me at all times. Standing about two meters from me, a brown-haired woman a little shorter than Chloe is lugging a couple of duffels. She's wearing black body armor with the name 'Petersen' stenciled in yellow on top of a deep blue jacket, black cargos, and boots. On her hip is a dark, non-reflective, matte textured pistol with an oversized clip that seems to hold nine fifty caliber rounds. The smirk on her lips rises upwards, almost in parallel to the scar that creases the woman's forehead. When she takes off her amber colored aviator sunglasses, it's almost like a slap in my face that bolts me into a seated position. Very old memories of a last name float into my mind..."Holy fuck!" I blurt out.The look on M's face must match my own. Her jaw is almost scraping up pine needles from the ground. "R... Rachel??? You're... you're The Raven? I... I mean it's nice to see you again, but I never thought in a million years..." The woman drops her duffel bags, then plops down to the ground facing me. "Oh my... God! You... you... Jacob never told me they successfully recruited you! I mean, I hoped... but..."You know, when I heard Chloe and Max explain what time travel was about, my initial thought was to be skeptical. I mean, the power to change history, seriously? In my mind, it was just a bunch of b-rated fan fiction, something I have never been into; I prefer the classics: Shakespeare, Dante, Seneca, and maybe throw in some modern intrigue and espionage once in a while. But now, here I am a literal lifetime from when an anonymous person, this woman as it turned out, pulled me out of a stinking grave and gave me another chance, yet for all the time that's passed, and the injury across her head, she looks exactly as I remember."I..." This is difficult. Usually I am articulate with words, I always have been, but now no relevant ones come to mind. I reach into my breast pocket where I keep one of the few items from that time and remove a slightly dogeared black business card with only a phone number written in iridescent blue numbers. Flicking it lightly in the palm of my opposite hand, I hesitate, then turn the card over. While it's worn, it still gives me no clue as to the identity of the person who saved my life. "You gave me this, but I... I never got your full name.""Charlie, Charlie Petersen. You... you were so out of it at the time, and I hoped you wouldn't remember given that I'd inadvertently blown my cover. I'm seriously sorry I couldn't hang around, but I really had no choice." The woman holds out her hand, and its warmth flows into my own as I grasp it. "But now, Rachel Dawn Amber, I'm incredibly pleased to meet you.""Likewise. For the second time, I guess."She shrugs and we sit facing each other in a slightly uncomfortable silence while the light breeze rustles the trees around the clearing. I mean... what do you really say to the person who saved your life? 'Thank you' just doesn't seem to cut it. I've waited so long; I owe Charlie a debt I will probably never be able to repay. The protective shell, the one I built around my Raven persona, has kept me insulated for years from dwelling on just how fortunate I'd been. But seeing her in person... I feel cracks in my shield as overcoming emotions of gratitude force their way out. Without her, I'd never been able to become the person I was meant to be, had been able to reconnect with Chloe, nor discover the incredible Canadian woman who makes my heart skip a beat...Ironically, it's neither of us who speaks at last, but the rumbling in my gut that's only been fed an MRE during the flight over. I guess that's as good of an icebreaker as anything, and my shock and undefinable feelings morph into a giggling fit like I used to do when I was a teenager. We both continue laughing, letting out years of stress, as we unpack the gear she brought with. My stomach growls again, and from a smaller case, Charlie produces a clamshell to-go box with the Two Whales logo on it."Thought you'd need something to eat, right? Couldn't have my younger-self, Sloane and... Oh my God! Chloe's like a bottomless pit; she would have eaten everything if I hadn't stopped her. Anyway, I got the kitchen to make up something for you special, though I kinda guessed what you'd like. Hope it's okay."I laugh again as we sit next to the timbers that make up the edge of the hunter's blind I built. "Yeah, she's a human vacuum, and always has been. Oh, just so you know: "Do not be holding the last Two Whales french fry while Price is anywhere within one-hundred meters of you, or you're liable to lose fingers."
'Lies, Rachel! Total lies!'
I tap my earbud, smiling again at Charlie who's on the verge of losing it all over again.Oops, guess I left my mic open. "Chloe. What was that you were saying?"
'I said you're a big-ass liar, Amber! It was two-hundred meters!'
"Oh, forgive me, Price, my mistake. I seem to remember, you took off two of Victoria's acrylics in the process."
'I did? I just thought those were crunchy bits. Huh... tasty! So, Dudes, are you gonna keep us sitting here all day? Or should we just get on with it without you?'
"Hah! And let you have all the fun without me? No way, Chloe. Just hang on a sec! Unlike you, I haven't had anything to eat since the flight."
'Fine, Rach, chow down, but make it fast cuz' I'm starting to get hungry again.'
I roll my eyes. "Price, you are always hella hungry. Just gimme five minutes, babe." I open the still warm container and reveal a thick, double-bacon cheeseburger with everything except mayo and a literal mountain of Two Whales thick-cut fries. There's even a dill pickle wedge, which I eat first because the salt will stimulate saliva production and help me down the meal quickly. Yeah, I know, the weird facts one learns while trying to survive in the field. Believe me, there are stranger things.I take a bite of the burger, then another one until the entire thing is gone. I guess I really was pretty hungry. What's left is a pile of hand-cut french fries, a Two Whales specialty. Sampling one, a devilish thought crosses my mind; they say humor before entering a potentially dangerous situation is healthy for any soldier. I tap Charlie on her shoulder, then tilt my head down towards the idling truck. I tap my earbud to turn off the mic for a couple of seconds."Hey, Charlie, wanna see something funny?""Uhm, always. What do you have in mind?""Stress relief. Check this out..."Turning the radio on again, I pick up a long potato wedge, hold it above my head, and wave it in the air."Hey, Chloe. These fries sure are good!"I look back at the woman with the scar on her forehead, one that's wrinkled in slight confusion."Wait for it... M. Right now, she's trying to resist the urge all the while knowing how impossible it is. Any time there's food around is an opportunity to witness true, primal Chloe Price behavior. She's especially susceptible to the Two Whales menu. Watch and learn..."I get back on the com, teasing my old friend and almost singing her name."🎵 Chloeeeeee... 🎵 Almost done with them. Nice, crispy... Mmmmmm."Over the radio, Charlie and I hear a deep moaning growl as Chloe's stomach noise conducts through her bones and into the mic pickup in her ear. There's the sounds of struggle and complaints from the truck's occupants.
'Didn't you just eat, Blue? How can you still be hungry?'
'Chloe, they'll be gone before you hike up there. Come on, get off my legs and use your own door. Sloane, help get her off me!'
The noise grows in our ears, so I put the fried potato in my mouth and turn around to peer through the rifle's optics. Sure enough, the Chevy is rocking like a beast is trapped inside. I let my spotter take a look, and she almost instantly falls to the ground and is rolling with laughter. Over the radio, I cringe as the fry-demon tries to escape its cage.
'Chloe! Ow, that hurt! Stop trying to climb through the window. Oooof! Damn it, I think you just split my lip!'
'Frieeeeeeees!!!'
'Blue, come on now, get ahold of... No! Owwww! I didn't mean me! Shite, that's my boob! Dayuuuuuum, you marines have a grip!'
There's a bunch of thumps, groans, and strained grunts in my ear, then everything gets quiet. I pick Charlie up from the dirt, the both of us giggling about what just happened. As we're finishing off the last of the food, Sloane gets back on the com.
'Bella, I know you and Blue go way back, but can you try not to antagonize the Boss so much? Pretty please with maple syrup? I gots me some bruises; hell, I think I'm lopsided now!'
It takes another five minutes of laughter before me and M to catch our breath, dusting ourselves off once again.
Hmmm, I like the sound of that. Maple syrup could be... fun.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
November 1, 2025
The Highlands Estates
Arcadia Bay
I dab tissue on my split lip, a souvenir from Chloe’s elbow as she literally tried to crawl over me. Though through the sting, I can't help but chuckle to myself; it's uncanny how similar Chloe is no matter which time stream I'm drawn to.Sloane, behind me, has literally hogtied our blue-haired boss, and thankfully the fight seems to have left her the moment Rachel stopped teasing. On the other hand, Chloe's stomach still seems to be loudly arguing the point, grumbling about the lost french fries; it's another universal constant apparently. I twist in the driver’s seat, the wheel nudging my ribs as I peer back. Sloane’s got a foot pressed into Chloe’s middle, pinning her to the carpet, while her free hand rubs under her armor where I'm sure there's a growing bruise."Boss, you good now? You gave one of my girls quite an ouchie."From the footwell, we both hear Chloe's mumbled reply, struggling against the paracord, though only half-heartedly. While her words sound partially like resignation, there's a couple of specially chosen ones we can almost make out, and perhaps something about an ass-kicking; it's difficult to tell through her the ball of socks in her mouth.Over all our earpieces, Rachel apologizes, kind of. I mean, in her own way, I suppose.
'Heard that, Chloe! Sure is nice to see you haven’t changed. Don’t worry, fries after we nab Max, ‘k? But if you’ve dented my hula-girl, we’re having words.'
I stifle a laugh as Sloane’s eyes widen, her lips mouthing 'Hula...?' before clicking to 'Ohhhhh!' Chloe deflates, her forehead smacking the floor with a dull thud. Minutes later, she nods, and Sloane yanks the balled up socks from her mouth, tossing them to the side with a wet smack."Jesus, Dudes," Chloe rasps, sputtering a bit to get rid of fuzz left in her mouth. "I'm fine now! Can someone please untie me?"Our team medic squints, still chewing on her new ‘hula-girl’ nickname, but after a beat, she tugs the paracord loose. It slithers free with a soft hiss, releasing the tension around Chloe’s neck, wrists, and ankles. She slumps, then hauls herself into the passenger seat, the springs groaning under her. Rubbing her wrists, she fidgets with her armor, the velcro rasping, then checks to make sure her gear and pistol are still in place."I kinda lost it, guys," she says, her heavy breathing fogging the window as she leans close. "Sorry ‘bout the lip, Charlie."I pull the blood-spotted tissue away from my mouth again. "I've had worse, Chloe. No worries.""You okay, Slo'?" The blue-haired soldier's eyes dip down to the body armor which Sloane is still readjusting to keep from dragging across her sore left breast. "Please don't tell Max I did that."The Chief presses another rolled-up sock in between her armor and chest for some added padding, then smirks at our concerned team leader. "Me and the girls are good, Boss," she says, strapping the body armor's velcro into place. "Just don’t be so grabby, huh? You’ve got a grip like a garage vise, Blue. Kinda feelin' sorry for Maxie, I mean... unless she’s into..."Chloe rolls her eyes, tilting her head up to gaze through the sunroof. She's probably asking whatever power that exists to please drop the subject. When she actually speaks, my guess is confirmed."Can we pleeeeeeeease just go get Max now?"Over the radio, Rachel, aka The Raven, and Charlie-M both give us an update.
'Ladies, as far as we can see, you'll all clear to proceed. M's tracking the long range, and I've got your backs.'
Chloe, our team leader, taps her earbud."Alright, bitches, let's get some!"Without another word, we all pile out of the truck, gravel crunching as we move to the rear where the back hatch is swinging open. Chloe pops the hard-cases, shoving an H&K G36 into Sloane's hands, then clips a Mossberg 12-gauge to her harness. She hands me my M4 and mags for it and my .50-cal sidearm named 'Earth-shaker.'"Okay, Babes. Our Charlie's reconned the OA before, so she's point. Me in the middle, and Sloane's got the rear."
'Oh! I like the sound of that, Slo'! Heh heh...'
"Knock it off, Raven! We're on mission and going hot; we don't need distractions! Either you have our backs or not, Amber. Which is it?"
'The rear, Bella? You... uh... like that...??'
I hear a little giggle in my ear, and Chloe shouts back almost automatically."Sloane! Fuck! And you said I was bad about the french fries! Get solid, team!"
'Sorry, Boss.'
'Sorry, Chloe, won't happen again.'
"I’m sorry too, dudes; just a little stressed out. Let’s get Max and get the hell out of here!"Everyone responds almost simultaneously: ‘Roger that!’I take the lead, and the others line up on the outer side of the wall, the gate behind us. We're positioned to head south towards the perimeter of the tree line, which is the property's boundary. I stand slightly crouched, watching the trees in my arc I'm responsible for, the muzzle of my carbine held low while I await the signal to move. Chloe and Sloane take up second and third positions. All of us understand where we're supposed to keep our eyes, and Raven and M on overwatch will keep our backs safe, just in case everything goes wrong. I've trained three-person breach scenarios many times over my time-jumping career, and I know for a fact that the US Marines and CDN Navy do similar drills. We each know our tasks like it's second-nature. I push aside all the shenanigans and messing with each other of the past half hour, concentrating patiently. I feel a hand on the upper part of my back.
'Go go, Charlie. I'm right behind you.'
While keeping my shoulder only inches from the lot's perimeter wall, I start to move out, angling my rifle along the tree line and then arcing to the southeast every couple of steps, repeating in an almost figure-eight fashion. Behind me, I hear the quiet footsteps of the women watching the other angles and our backs. I pause next to a gated opening in the wall, holding up my fist, then I lean quickly to take a peek.Just as I expected. That's Max's pickup truck parked in the curved driveway. My sixth sense tells me the other two have caught up and are awaiting my assessment."Okay, as far as I know, Max is the only one here." Using the ridge of my hand, I direct their attention to around the edge of the wall, indicating the general location of Max's vehicle to Chloe and Sloane. "That's her truck just around the corner. No sign of anyone else. Overwatch, you gals see anything?"Both my older self and Rachel respond after a couple of seconds.
'Point, this is Raven, coast is clear to the southern end of the wall. No additional contacts since the old guy and the grill. Loop is clear all the way around.'
'Team, be advised, I caught a glimpse of a reflection, or something, about 2800 meters to your 12 o'clock. Trying to narrow it down, but it's hella small even for the 600-millimeter spotter I brought with me. No luck so far. Rachel, shift your view fifteen degrees and give me another set of eyes, please.'
'Roger that, M. Okay, ladies, you're on your own for the moment.'
Since I'm in the lead, it's my job to respond. 'Understood, Keep on it, Overwatch. Proceeding.'In one fluid motion, I dash from one edge of the gate to the other where there's solid cover again. After a few steps, the two other women do the same, and we continue along the wall. I hear the quiet shush-shush of Chloe and Sloane cargo pants as they keep an even pace behind meWhen I get to the perimeter's outer corner, the southernmost part of the property, I pause and kneel to check the trees in front of me and around to my right. Waiting until Chloe catches up, I realize how quiet it is, like there's not even the rustling of fall leaves and branches in the breeze. A hand presses carefully onto my shoulder, then I feel a double-pat to let me know the two women are stacked up behind me."Kinda getting a bad fucking feeling, Chloe; seems too quiet."
'I'm getting that vibe too, Charlie, like there's a target on the back of my head. Chief, you see anything?'
'Nada, Boss; gives me the creepy-creeps. Where are all the birdie sounds?'
'Know what you mean, Slo'. How about you, Amber? M? You dudes see anything?'
'Nothing, Chloe. I got nothing. We're still busy trying to find M's mysterious reflection. Will advise soonest.'
I get back on the mic. "Alright then, keep on it, ladies. I got butterflies telling me something is coming, but I'm heading around the corner... now!"I take a couple of deep breaths to focus, then move my foot one step, then another, and a third. Chloe is right behind me, and I hear Sloane following soon after. In front of me, about 10 meters, the perimeter wall that surrounds the estate ends. We proceed slowly, moving about a meter at a time before pausing, until I reach the edge. I quickly look around the corner and into the west-facing backyard of the home. In the instant, my eyes scan across the open vista that looks out towards Arcadia Bay and the Pacific Ocean, then across a multileveled patio or deck at the back of the home."I have eyes on Max. She's just sitting there not even moving."Pulling back, I check my carbine and make sure the safety is still set, then wait for the others to catch up. All the while, I start getting this really weird, electric sensation that moves from the base of my skull and seems to enfold around my brain. Without thinking, I take a stuttering step into the clearing, and another until I'm fully exposed. I can't seem to stop my feet from moving. I'm about thirty meters from Max and she still hasn't seen that I'm here even though I know I've got to be in at least her peripheral vision. I try to force myself to halt, take a knee and scan the area, but my body refuses to obey my commands. Chloe's voice comes over the com.
'Charlie, what are you doing?'
I can't stop! Something's got control of me! Get to Max before I do! I realize the words that I intended to speak never come out. It's like I'm a prisoner in my own body, a passenger trapped in my mind as some unseen power pulls the strings. Terror grips my pounding heart, but even the adrenaline surge doesn't break whatever spell I'm under. I continue awkwardly shuffling towards the seated woman, and I'm interrupted by own voice in my ear, my later version.Rachels voice comes over the radio, and I can't even reply. 'Ha! Gotcha! Hold up, team. Contact on the middle Bayview tower, Top floor, building-B. Slider door is jarred open. Can't see inside. Stand by...'Building-B rooftop? Wait... That's... That's my place! 'Say again, Raven. Did you say top of Bayview-B?' Again, no sounds pass my lips as Rachel confirms the target.
'Affirmative. Middle tower, top and left-hand corner; there's a rooftop pool above them for reference. A green-light laser is sweeping across our location.'
'Dudes, we have a problem down here! Charlie's acting really fucking strange. Sloane, forget watching the backdoor and get your ass over here!'
'On it Blue!'
In my ears, and from behind, I hear the Senior Chief hustle along the wall, not even trying to stay silent anymore. I can't even turn my head! What the fuck is going on???? My legs pick up their pace in an instant and I lurch forward like a zombie to close the distance, raising my gun and pointing it in the direction of the seemingly frozen Max. Without thinking, my index finger slides past the guard and starts to tighten on the trigger.
Oh my fuck! I'm gonna shoot Max!
While my body continues to lurch closer, I try fighting the urge and focus every ounce of willpower I have into resisting that last bit of pressure. It's like straining against an unseen chain that's shackling my mind, and the world around me begins to slow. Sweat pours down my face as I resist, but it's no use. Is this some kind of reaction to Max's powers and my own? I have no idea, yet suddenly the arm holding my weapon flings it to the ground; the violence of the move almost taking my finger off in the process. My seeming loss of control evaporates as suddenly as it began, and I find myself sprinting towards the seated woman on the deck. My muscles push me to the point that I can feel them begin to tear. I'm at the base of the patio, only a couple of meters to go when my foot slips on a patch of wet grass. My hand automatically comes down, slapping the stone that borders the first step and breaking three of my fingers in the process, but the motion pushes me upright in time for my other foot to begin climbing the short set of stairs.A beam of green seems to float in the gap between myself and Max, slowly closing the distance at exactly her head's level. My older self's voice pierces the com...
'Gun! I've got a shooter in the penthouse! There's two of them: one on security, and... oh fuck! It's...'
In the core of my being, I feel a knot, deep down at the heart of my unpredictable connection with time. It starts to pull back in on itself, retreating like the surf disappearing before a tsunami. And what a wave it is! The incomprehensible energy suddenly expands outward from where Max sits, surrounding first her body and then crashing and bending around me. It's a hurricane, a super nova that my own powers can't resist but for a split second. The almost tangible surface breaches, engulfing me within the crazy, timeless void illuminated in fractal pattens of attenuated laser light which has settled on the only other person present: Max. Before it seals me in, M screams over the radio.
'Rachel! Don't shoot! You can't...'
In my earbud, I hear the report of a high-caliber gun, then a fraction of a moment later another traveling only at the speed of sound reaches my ears. The Raven did what she had to do, her duty, and pulled the trigger, attempting to keep Max from being harmed. Only now, though, at the end, has everything become crystal clear. Whatever anyone else does, it'll be useless. No one else is close enough to save the woman in the deck chair. Max is my friend, mentor, and the person who saved my life so many years ago; It's up to me, now, and I have a choice to make because I've figured out what's happening. This loop, there's only one way it makes sense: There must be another time-traveler involved, and I'm the only one currently available. I mean, it's not like the common Jane has our powers, right? Somehow, Max and I created the bubble which has entrapped her, and there's only one way to break her out. I take a breath, coiling my burning muscles for one final effort. If I lose concentration, even for a fraction of a second, whatever is controlling my body is going to reassert itself. It'll be game over. If I can only get her out of the way in time...A familiar voice, just a whisper in my mind, comforts me that I won't be alone in this bubble universe.
Molly? How are you doing this?
<I can't explain, not yet anyway. Do you trust me, Charlie?>
Always. Why?
<Because you'll need to take that leap of faith we were talking about earlier. It's the only way to save Max.>
What's going to happen then? Is this how it ends?
<More like full circle, Charlie. I'm sorry, if I say anymore... Well, you know all about Bad Fucking Things™️, remember?>
I get it. Thanks, Mol'.
<Now get her the fuck out of here!!>
At first, I don't realize it, but the pain is gone and I'm in mid-air, a finger just now pressing into the fabric of Max's jacket. The moment of contact, all my body's momentum, transfers to the woman, pushing her and the chair she's in completely through the skin of the bubble. From my perspective her body refracts and stretches as she enters the real universe, and I watch as the wooden deck chair slides across the patio, then tips and collapses.<SCRAAAAPE! CLACK!>I'm all that's left in this insane space and time. Like a billiard ball, the collision cancels my motion, and I end up on my butt seated exactly where Max had been, or maybe a little to the left. I have just enough time, a single reflexive instant that has no measurable meaning, to look up as a green laser momentarily blinds my eyes.
Leap of faith... At least Max is safe; I can live with that.
The last thing I remember is the slug from a thirty-caliber rifle drilling into my forehead. Then I'm falling, sucked into the collapsing bubble that surrounds me. Darkness and light, pain and comfort, life and death, all have no meaning wherever this is. My thoughts cloud, like being covered over with... something, until I lose even the concept of 'self.'
<Trust me, Charlie... It's better that you don't remember.>
The last thing I remember is realizing the mistake I'd made. Jumping in too late and letting Mark Jefferson remember what happened down in the lab. My stomach clenches at the thought, and a shudder travels from my throbbing head, then up and down my spine before settling in at my aching tailbone. I feel like I just got hit by a bus, then backed over just for good measure. My guts twist into knots, threatening to unload from both ends. Ew! All considering, though, I'm decidedly still alive. For a split moment, images flash across my puzzled mind of an intense green light and a piercing pain in the middle of my forehead. It feels like someone jammed a white-hot piece of rebar through my skull. Thankfully, the fleeting thoughts and pain both disappear as quickly as they came. There's a ringing in my ears, loud enough to drown out the distorted voice of someone next to me, then a clomp-clomp that shakes the deck's flooring. A heavy object lands on me, surrounding my torso in a warm embrace, while a slightly sweaty, yet unmistakable scent invades my nostrils.I open my eyes as her hands caress my forehead to see a pair of stunning, breathtaking turquoise windows into the soul of my favorite person and love of my life. Her brow is dipped low, and her eyes are filled with so much concern that they can barely hold back the tears. When she speaks, her voice is thick with phlegm."I... I thought I lost you, Babe!"