Hey guys!
Yes, I'm actually coming back with a new part. I have a handful of chapters that I will post this week, and I intend on finishing this story for once and for all. It might still take a while, but at least let's move the story again
Thank you to all of you who bumped and told me they were still looking forward to it. It means the world to me
Journal entry #23, still September 2nd, 2011
It's hard to bring bad news. It's harder when you
are the bad news.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Doorstep
For the last two hours, all Liz had been able to do was drive, compulsively watch her rearview mirror, and pray that Max would wake-up without hating her.
Thanks to John's sedative, her alien friend laid still unconscious on the passenger seat, oblivious to her fears and her spiraling imagination conjuring all kinds of threats.
They were already in Portland, but her mind was still back at that motel, that room, and the battle of wills between her, Max, and John.
My God, what were you thinking?
John's sacrifice weighted heavily on her shoulders. Two hours was a long time to be in enemy hands, and he was barely starting.
What if he's dead already?
What if they figure out he's not Max?
What if they come for Max no matter what?
What if Max wants
to go back no matter what?
Unable to drive and worry at the same time, she parked at a random street, holding her face between her hands, telling herself she was
not going to cry. She still had John's wife to find, help Max get through his withdrawal, and get John out of that hell.
Taking two deep breaths, she put her hands on the wheel and redirected her thoughts to that list. John's wife. Help Max. Get John. She always worked better with priorities, and her mind appreciated the order over the chaos.
"Okay, okay…" she said out loud, turning to see if Max stirred after hours of driving in silence. He didn't. She sighed in defeat and put her forehead against the wheel. "I need to call Alex… God, I don't want to drag him into this any further…"
Realistically, Alex was the only one who could find out where Ms. Herschel lived. Even John had told her that.
With trembling hands, she got her cell phone and its battery out. Max had told her not to put the battery back until she was miles and miles away from the motel, but she still had her doubts.
"You better know what you were talking about," she murmured to Max, and got her phone working after a minute or two.
She had sixteen voice messages and thirty two text messages, all from Alex. Getting a grip on her nerves, she called her friend and braced for an onslaught of questions and
I told you so's.
"My God Liz! Are you all right?!"
"Yes, yes. I'm so—"
"You sure?"
"Yes, Alex, I'm actually call—"
"Great! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"
"Um…well…"
"You just
don't do that to me, okay? Okay? This was so
not okay. You can't have Max asking me to patch him up to the base and then telling me you're going to drive on your own. Not okay, at all! What I did could get me black listed by the Interpol, if not giving me a straight out cardiac attack!"
"It didn't work," she whispered, frightened for her friend all the way to Norway.
"What?"
"John showed up. He traded places with Max, so John is now at the base and Max is with me. Look, it's a very long story."
"Great…just great. Listen, I'm at the airport right now, I'm taking the next flight to Washington I can find."
"Alex, no. Please, don't—"
"I'm not asking you for your permission, Miss I'm a Tough Girl. I'm telling you. God, I think I have an ulcer. Do you think John can heal an ulcer? I mean, if he's not dead already?"
"Alex!"
"Sorry! Sorry…I'm just a mess right now."
Me, too.
"I know. I'm not in Washington, Alex. I'm in Portland. I need to find John's house and talk to his wife."
"Oh… Well, crap. Liz, are you
sure? I mean, I can get you the information, that's not a problem. But you'll be dumping this into someone else's doorstep."
For one infinite second, Liz contemplated all the pieces that had gotten her here, to this moment, where she was asking one of her best friends to do this at 3:00 a.m. while she was parked in God knew where. She felt laughter bubbling inside her, but she stomped the hysterical feeling before it could take hold on her. The last thing she needed—the last thing
Max needed—was for her to lose control.
"I know Alex, but Max is out cold, and he's going to need his fix when he wakes up. She's the only one who can help."
Ten minutes later, she was driving through the silent and sleepy suburbs, following her GPS instructions to a T. When it guided her to a secluded area and a big house, she wasn't surprised. It looked like somewhere John would live.
Its white walls and dark red windows looked ominous at 3:36 a.m., especially when she didn't know who would open that door.
"Max... Max, please wake up," she said, touching his face and checking his pulse. For the first time since forever, his eyes fluttered, and he finally grunted something unintelligible. "Hey... hey, wake up," she whispered, trying to leave her fear and panic out of her voice. "We're at John's home. Max?"
He opened his eyes, still glazy. It looked as if he wasn't sure if he was awake or not.
"Are you a dream?" he asked, a question he'd already asked when she'd first found him outside the base a lifetime ago.
This guy must dream about you a lot, huh? a snarky voice said at the back of her mind, painfully resembling Maria's.
Now is so not the time.
"No, I'm real. How are you feeling?"
He didn't answer, just closed his eyes and winced, and then stayed still.
"Max?"
He shook his head slightly, and she took that as a sign of
not well.
"Okay… I'm going to go to that house and see if John's wife is there, okay?"
Max turned to look at the house, frowning. "Where are we?" he asked, still drowsy, still having the attention span of a two year old.
"Wait here," she said instead, unbuckling. "I'll be right back."
Her arms goosebumped two seconds after she left the car. Her hair was still wet from the rain, and she was not dressed to be out at this hour. The wind wiped out at her exposed skin mercilessly, and she shivered. She hurried up to the house, which had a single light on the porch and guaranteed her nothing. She didn't think twice when she rang the bell—repeatedly.
An eternity later, lights went on in a couple of windows and the door was unlocked a minute later.
A woman opened the door then, older than Liz by twenty years, her face serious, her eyes hard.
"Where is he?" the woman asked. Liz's entire speech died in her hands.
How does she know John sent me? And then she realized she didn't.
"I-I'm not here with John," she said, turning to look at her car down the drive. "I'm here with Max."
Anne Herschel frowned, clearly having no idea what Liz was talking about.
"He's John's clone…?" Liz had meant that as a statement, but she had no idea how much John had confided in his wife. “John sent me here—” Liz started, prepared to give a full speech to explain herself, but Anne's face looked at the car with both surprise and determination.
"What's wrong with his clone? Because there's only one reason you would come at this hour to my doorstep if he wasn't in big trouble."
"You're—you're right, actually. Mrs. Herschel, I know this is a lot to ask, but Max is in really bad shape, and I don't have anywhere else to go."
"Or anyone else who's in the known," the older woman answered, her eyes hardening, suspicious shadowing her face. She looked at the car then, and back at Liz's panicking eyes. If Anne Herschel refused to help them, she was truly out of options.
"I'll kill John," Anne murmured, her shoulders losing some of their tension. "But you can come in. Can he walk?"
"I'm not sure… He was—"
fighting with your husband and threatening to send me to military prison—"drugged two hours ago. He's—he's going through withdrawals," Liz went with her down the drive.
"Hell, no. Not
that again," Anne said while Liz opened the door. Anne gasped a second later, clearly not ready to see John's younger version.
"He said—my God, I knew they were clones, it's just…" Anne blinked a couple of times, and then moved to the side to help Liz with Max's weight. "I thought I was done with adventures," she added, "but John was never one to settle for a calm life. Okay girl, let's see what you brought to my house."
