Max
was nervous. She'd never admit it, but Logan could tell when he glanced over
at her, with her brows
drawn
down over big brown eyes, the frown more due to worry than concentration on
the road.
He
didn't know where she'd come up with the car. He wasn't even sure why. All
he knew was, she'd insisted
he
come with her, and that wasn't like Max. Max was headstrong and independent.
But the prospect of
meeting
someone else like her...another of the kids who'd escaped from the Manticorp
project...it was
getting
to her.
He
took off his glasses and cleaned them with the tail of his shirt, the tall,
snow-covered pines lining the
road
sliding out of focus. "Are we almost there?" he asked, sliding the
glasses back on in time to see her
faint
nod.
In
the next moment, she swung the wheel wildly onto a road so small it had
blended in between the solid
trees.
Max let out a breath. "Sorry."
Definitely
nervous, Logan thought.
~~~~~~~
The
young man looked out from between the curtains, then back at the woman. She
didn't have to look.
She
knew they were coming. Her face was serene where his was pursed, angry at
having their privacy
invaded.
He almost felt scared, even though there was no reason to be. He could take
care of anyone who
happened
by.
He
let the curtain drop as the battered car skidded to a stop in front of the
house.
~~~~~~~
"This
is it," Max said, resting the palms of her hands against her thighs,
not moving from behind the wheel.
"Yes.
It is," Logan said, his tone even. Watching her. Waiting.
In
a second, Max made up her mind and jumped out of the car. A few moments
later, he felt the car jolt as
she
slammed the trunk closed and he pushed his door open. He glanced at her as
she reached for him. "I
can
do that," he informed her. His tone was warning enough and Max turned
away, allowing Logan to pull
himself
into the wheelchair.
"She
can't help you." The voice from the doorway of the small wooden cabin
surprised them both.
Max
turned her head, wide-eyed, her mouth open and poised to say something, but
then she froze.
Logan
started to ask "Who?" as in, who can't help, but he saw Max's
hands begin to tremble a moment
before
her eyes rolled back and she fell into the snow, body convulsing. And there
was nothing he could do
to
help her. He couldn't even reach her.
The
young man dashed down the steps in spite of himself, but Max's spasms had
stopped. He came up
short
as she rolled over, damp hair hanging in her face, and the two of them
glared at each other. "You,"
he
said.
"Me,"
Max said.
"I
thought you were dead."
"'m
not," she mumbled, turning away from him, wrapping her arms around
herself. Accidentally she looked
at
Logan, catching his eyes, and then she turned away quickly.
The
blond young man looked to Logan for some explanation, but his mouth was dry.
He had none. "She's
been
looking for you for ten years," he said.
The
young man nodded. "Come inside." He turned his back on them and
headed up the steps into the
cabin.
Logan
turned and looked at Max, still quietly freaking out, those big dark eyes
staring into the woods. After
a
second she turned her head and managed a smile. "I didn't think it'd be
like this, you know?"
Logan
nodded. Max headed up the stairs and Logan manuevered after her, the
wheelchair leaving wet
tracks
into the warm cabin.
"Let
me see it," the young blond man ordered, catching Max by surprise.
She
lowered her head, gathering her hair with one hand away from the back of her
neck. Revealing the bar
code
tattooed there. With a deliberate look, she raised her head. The blond man
started to turn away, and
she
grabbed him, pulling down the collar of the turtleneck he wore to expose a
similar mark.
"Now
that that's settled," Logan said, feeling awkward as they both looked
at him. "You'll have some
catching
up to do."
"That's
not why you came here...is it?" the blond boy asked.
"Of
course it is," Max said, her hand still lingering on his arm. "Zach,
I've been looking for you..."
"I
don't use that name now," he told her, pulling away.
"Why
else would we have come here?" Logan asked, raising his voice slightly,
to break through the intense
emotion
flooding through the room. He felt like a background player in Romeo and
Juliet, only he hoped
the
ending would be different.
"I
thought you came for her."
"The
one you said couldn't help us," Logan said incisively.
"That's
right," Zach said.
"What
did you think she'd help us with?" Logan asked.
Zach's
eyes flickered over the wheelchair, then turned back to Max's face.
"She might be able to help you,"
he
said to her.
"With
what?"
"Your
seizures."
"Help
how?"
"She
helped me," Zach said. "We all have them. Let me -" He took a
step and stopped, surprised to see the
thin
older woman standing in the doorway from the kitchen. Her short hair was
more brown than gray and
she
held herself straight and tall, with an almost military bearing.
"Helped
you how?" Logan asked, looking at the woman. He'd heard stories, but
never in a million years had
he
thought they were true. Max might think he believed anything, but no one was
that gullible.
The
woman walked over to Max and looked into her eyes for a second, not saying a
word. Then she
reached
up to place a hand against Max's forehead.
Max
jerked back.
"Let
her," Zach said. Max shot him a look like he was crazy.
"She's
a healer," Logan said. Then Max looked at him like he was crazy.
"I've heard stories, but I never
thought
-"
"It's
true," Zach said solemnly, then turned to the silent woman. "You
don't have to do this." She looked at
him
with compassionate eyes, then turned back to Max.
"You
got nothing to say for yourself?" That was pure Max. When she felt
scared or threatened or just plain
didn't
know how to feel, she turned sarcastic.
"She
can't speak," Zach said.
"Why
not?" Max snorted. Zach shrugged and the contemptous look faded from
Max's full lips as she looked
at
the woman, who was waiting for permission. Max shook her head, not
believing. "Help him," she said as
she
took several steps back.
The
woman looked at Logan for a quick second, eyes roving over him. Then she
turned and walked away,
closing
the door behind her.
"What's
going on here?" Max demanded of Zach. "Who is that woman? How did
you end up here?"
"Why
should I tell you?" Zach demanded. "You show up out of noplace.
How the hell do I know you're who
you
pretend to be?"
"You
saved my life," Max said quietly. "I wanted to say thank you. I
wanted to see you again. I wanted to
know
what your life had been like."
"My
life's been hell, that's what it's been like." The tough attitude, so
much like Max's, conflicted with the
young
man's innocent appearance with blond hair and a generous sprinkling of
freckles across his nose.
Just
like in the mug shot from 6 years ago. "Snow's coming. You can stay
tonight, but you'll have to go in
the
morning." Zach went through the same door the woman had disappeared
through.
Logan
looked at Max. He wasn't sure what he was expecting...tears? From a lesser
mortal maybe, but not
from
Max. She just sat there, staring into space for endless moments until the
sun disappeared into the
snowstorm
and Logan fell asleep.
~~~~~~~
Logan
startled awake. It was dark. He started to stretch the ache out of his neck
then realize Max was no
longer
in the room with him. He swung the wheelchair around and almost ran into the
silent woman.
He
stopped, looking up at her, wondering what she wanted. Heart pounding,
wondering if the stories really
were
true.
She
gestured with her head, and he followed her, curious, into the other room.
There was a bed, made
with
a simple home-sewn quilt, and not much else. The woman looked over her
shoulder at Logan, then sat
down
on the bed.
He
rolled up next to her and saw she had a photograph in her hands. It only
piqued his curiosity more and
she
looked at him again, with a gaze so solid he wouldn't have been surprised if
she'd been able to hear the
thoughts
echoing through his head.
She
handed the photograph to him and he looked at it. A trio of soldiers. It was
faded, creased with age.
He
realized with a start one of the soldiers was the woman sitting beside him.
One was a shorter blond man
with
spiky hair, the other taller, heavier and older. Both solid men in their
prime.
"What
does this have to do with me?" Logan asked. "You have a story for
me?"
Her
lips turned up in a sad smile and she shook her head. She set the picture
aside, and then she touched
him.
~~~~~~~
Max
and Zach sat out on the porch. They didn't get cold; it was one of those
things. They didn't speak for a
long
while.
"I
got all the way to New York," Zach said finally. "And that was
when the terrorists hit. New York wasn't an
airburst
like the rest of them. It was a bomb. On the ground. I was right there. I
was burned, but she found
me.
I don't know how she does it. We're both freaks. Maybe that's why...when I
was a kid, she looked out
for
me. Kept them from finding me. Now...it's my turn to take care of her."
"You
were lucky," Max said.
"Yeah.
Lucky." Zach sounded bitter. She'd never thought Zach would be bitter.
"I
always knew I'd find you," Max said, looking at him in amazement. Did
he feel the same thing she did
when
he looked at her?
"But
you never knew what you were going to do when you found me," Zach said
and got to his feet. Max
watched
as he walked away, unable to find the words to call out to him. Feeling
unbearably sad.
The
door opened behind her but she didn't turn. She thought it was Logan, but
when she heard the
footsteps,
she assumed it was the woman. Until she realized it smelled like Logan and
she turned her head.
Seeing
him standing there was almost as much of a shock as it had been to see Zach.
"You're..." Max found
a
smile on her face, and she was speechless. Logan just nodded, the same dazed
expression on his face.
Max
laughed, looking at his grin and the next thing she knew, her arms were
around him and his arms
were
around her and he was swinging her around.
The
merriment of the moment evaporated as Zach stomped past them into the house,
urgency written on
his
face. "Florence?" he called. Max turned her head to follow Zach
with her eyes, breaking away from
Logan
to go into the house.
Florence
- the woman - was asleep on top of the quilt. Zach sat down next to her,
taking her hand. He
scowled
at Max and Logan when they appeared in the doorway. "She's
exhausted," Zach snarled. "I think
you'd
better go."
"Zach
-" Max began.
"You've
got what you wanted. Now get the hell out," Zach ordered.
"It
wasn't -" Now Max was looking at Logan, for answers. But he had none.
She went back to the car and
got
in. After a long moment standing there, looking at Zach and the woman,
wishing he had some idea
what
to say, Logan followed. But no words would have been enough.
END