All Who Wander

By Jess Keller

Part 1: The Corners of the World Our Mere Prologue

Chapter 1: No Good Deed

Caulfield

This was it.

The winds howled as they rushed around her grasping desperately at the trees behind her, earning load groans at their resistance.

The rain was so thick and the clouds so dense that the lighthouse and its beam were but a distant memory in a demented psyche.

However, Max Caulfield didn't see or hear any of this. Not right now. Right now, it was silent. There were no winds or rain, or giant vortex threatening the town that had housed everything she had ever loved.

Right now, the whole world wasn't about to end.

Just hers.

The girl in front of her, her best friend, stood towering over her, a lighthouse in her own right, expectant eyes boring holes into Max's.

"Max…It's time." Chloe said solemnly.

The girl had laid a choice at Max's feet, a final chance to stop the madness ensuing in front of them.

Max knew Chloe knew the gravity of what she was offering to sacrifice and scanned the bravery the older girl had pulled together over her face, like a patchwork quilt of every experience that had ever hardened her, but Max could see the fear tugging at the threads. Max had finally gotten Chloe back, and everything she still needed to say to her clawed at her throat like parched devils at the mouth of hell. This wasn't fair, no one could expect her to throw this away. She'd never asked to be a hero, she just wanted to be with the person she-

Max's ears rang as suddenly as she again became aware of the threat approaching Arcadia Bay.

She had to move now, or there wouldn't be a choice to make.

Arcadia Bay had been her home for 13 years before she abandoned it. She owed it so many debts. She had used most of the gift she'd been given to help repair the rusting coastal town. From distributing pamphlets to protect its beaches to brightening the days of its inhabitants. It all seemed so futile now.

Why was this happening. Rage built inside Max and she looked back to Chloe, whose courageous mask was beginning to fail her in the presence of the storm.

She couldn't sacrifice Chloe.

Chloe meant everything to her and she'd save her at all costs.

She looked back at Arcadia Bay.

This was their home, they'd earned the chance to live in it. They'd all earned a chance to be happy.

She looked down at the photograph in her hand, her last tie to the past. She hesitated a moment and then ripped it in half, letting the pieces dance freely in the gust.

"No." Max said dryly.

"W-What are you doing?" Chloe stammered as she scrambled in vain to catch the pieces.

The world had taken too much from them. From her, from Chloe, and from this town. She wasn't going to let it make her choose.

"Max! You can't do this, you have to-"Max interrupted her by crashing her lips against Chloe's, mimicking the force of the gale around her. She felt as if time had stopped, a feeling that she knew well by now, but this was different. She felt as though everything else, no matter how scary, would dissolve in the presence of this moment. Like time itself had eroded under its pressure.

But, the moment had to pass, there was much to do.

Max looked down at the hand she'd used to control time itself and then used it to firmly grip Chloe's trembling hand. She looked up and made eye contact with Chloe.

"Max…I don't-"But in Max's eyes was a fire that spread over Chloe, turning her doubts into compliant trust.

Acknowledging this, Max turned her attention to the storm once more. She walked, dragging Chloe along with her, to the edge of the cliff, the storm in spitting distance of them, testing their balance.

"Do you trust me?" Max yelled over the roar, facing Chloe.

Chloe's eyes flickered to the vortex and then back to Max. She nodded.

Max locked eyes with the eye of the storm and then channeling everything she had into the palm of the hand clasped tightly in that of her source. She slowly, and powerfully raised their joined arms towards the swirling winds and met Chloe's eyes one last time, reading the words they both wanted so desperately to say in one another's pupils.

With that, they stepped forward.

Price

Chloe found that she didn't know what was happening most of the time in recent days. She relied on Max more than she cared to admit to keep her updated on this whole, sci-fi, superhero, Groundhog Day shit. Looking over to see Max sharing her same, dumbfounded expression, did not reassure her in the slightest.

They were standing in a white, empty space. It was silent. The memory of the wind and rain still echoed on her skin, but the room was still. The lighthouse, Arcadia Bay, and…well anything, was nowhere to be found.

Max started to feel blindly in front of her.

"So, this is freaky right? Like even for us freaky?" Chloe asked.

Max was still feeling around.

"C'mon, Max, really feel like I'm having a bad trip over her, dude." She tried again.

"Oh, sorry." Max said, snapping back to her, "I-I don't exactly know either, Chloe."

"Well, what did you do, what was that whole thing with the, hand holding, and getting ready to base jump, and the ki-" Chloe stopped abruptly. That was right. Max had kissed her.

Chloe was surprised even nearly dying had made her forget about that.

Or…maybe she had died, and this was limbo?

That sent a shiver down her spine.

"Heya, Max, you don't suppose we…" Chloe began.

"We what?" Max asked, still examining their surroundings.

"You know…" Chloe tied an inviable noose around her neck and let her head fall limply to the side, making a "blech" sound to solidify the pantomime.

"No…at least I don't think so." Max said, this time examining her own body as if to authenticate its existence.

"Well, what do you suppose we-"Chloe was interrupted by a loud SNAP that she recognized immediately as a shutter click from the time she'd spent in Max's presence. She and Max both jumped and looked around for the source of the noise but only saw a large portrait materialize next to them.

Chloe recognized herself in the photo and, to her dismay, Nathan Prescott. What was most noticeable, though, was the giant, gaping bullet hole in her abdomen. She instinctively covered her own stomach and inhaled through her teeth.

Yeouch.

She had heard about this unfortunate circumstance form Max before, but this was the first time she'd had to confront it head on.

SNAP.

Another shutter noise, again startling the two girls who swiveled around to see another portrait materialize.

This one was also of her, but she didn't recognize herself. She was hooked up to a bunch of tubes and wires. She looked like she was sleeping. Max stood over her, crying.

Max had told her about this one, too. She still didn't know what to feel about it.

She was torn from her thoughts by the sound a voice.

"It's okay. You're going to be okay."

The voice sounded like it was speaking inside her skull, and not out loud, but it looked like Max could hear it, too.

SNAP.

Another Picture, Max reaching for a train, a second too late.

"You've both suffered so much."

This sounded like a different voice, softer, more compassionate.

SNAP.

This time she saw Mark Jefferfuck, standing over her with a gun. She felt the inescapable urge to call out to Max to watch out. Then, she was hit by the memory of what had happened just seconds before this moment. Which was impossible, Max got rid of that timeline. Didn't she?

"You've fought so hard to change your fate."

This was the first voice.

SNAP.

This one was in the junkyard again, holding her own gun. The bullet having ricocheted off some metal surface. Chloe was hit by a wave of embarrassment, silently thanking Max for not bringing this one up.

SNAP.

She saw Nathan Prescott again, this time squatting next to her unconscious with a camera.

She felt bile bubble in her stomach seeing that little creep's face.

"And it wasn't just you."

SNAP.

That Kate Marsh kid jumping from the dorm roof.

SNAP.

Chloe's father, in an intersection, not even seeing it coming.

That one ached dully inside Chloe like an old scar in the cold.

SNAP.

But with this one, she felt all the air leave her body as the bile in her stomach raged like the storm they'd just walked into. She felt white-hot tears stinging the corners of her eyes, threatening the same torrential downpour.

It was Jefferson again, standing over a pile of dirt with a shovel, she could just see a few locks of blonde hair extending from the hole in the earth there, but it was enough to know.

"Despite your best efforts, the game was rigged from the start." The second voice said

"We're sorry." They said in unison.

"However, while this is the destiny you were given," The first voice began.

"It was never the story you were meant to live." The second voice finished.

"So, consider this a gift." Said the first voice.

"And a promise," The second voice added.

"Use it wisely,"

"And treasure it always."

With a comforting finality they spoke in unison.

"And always remember that Time and Love can heal most any wound."

"Sincerely, T." The first voice said.

"And L." Said the second voice.

There was a long silence that was so thick, Chloe felt she could shatter it with a bat.

"So…you heard all that, right, I'm not batshit?" She tried to put humor in her voice, but it was shaking along with the rest of her. It looked like Max was shaking, too.

"Yeah, I definitely heard that." She replied.

SNAP.

Another picture. Chloe braced herself for what fresh horror would appear.

This portrait appeared right in front of them and was quite a bit larger than the others.

Chloe felt a familiar comfort spread through her as her eyes lit up in recognition.

It was her truck.

It was just sitting in the picture, framed against the coast in the background.

She stepped forward to examine it. It stood taller than her.

An idea hit her suddenly.

"Max, touch it." She said, spinning on her heels.

"What?" The smaller girl asked.

"Touch the picture, film-for-brains, c'mon!" Said Chloe eagerly.

Max slowly stepped forward and lifted a finger towards the photograph awkwardly and poked it.

A ripple spread out across it, warping the picture.

Chloe felt a rush of excitement as she grabbed Max's hand.

"C'mon, let's go!" She shouted.

And pulled Max into the picture.

Caulfield

Sound once again flooded Max's ears as she stepped out of the photograph, like emerging from water.

She heard the familiar gentle sound of the tide rolling in and out. She heard birds, seagulls, chirping a sanguine refrain. The stood in stark contrast to the tempest they'd just seen. To the piles of dead birds lining the beaches in the weeks before.

But it was still familiar; The tranquility of the ocean.

What wasn't familiar was the warmth. At its best, Arcadia Bay's beach was a cool 60, but here, it had to be at least 75. The sun was low on the water, casting its orange blanket over the sky, streaked with an occasional cloud. It looked pretty against the palm trees.

Palm Trees. Max noticed.

That definitely wasn't on the Arcadia Bay travel brochure.

"My wheels!" Chloe exclaimed, breaking Max from her quiet contemplation.

Chloe ran and cartoonishly embraced the rusted metal of her truck.

Max admitted she'd grown to appreciate the old relic, but she never understood Chloe's love for it.

Then, she saw Chloe climb inside and trace the markings therein reminiscently and remembered Chloe telling her how Rachel Amber had carried her when Max wasn't here. She wondered if this truck had done the same.

"Chloe, where are we?" Max asked, returning to the task at hand.

"No idea, Toto, but it sure ain't Kansas," Chloe said. "Oh shit. Climb aboard Max, there's stuff in here."

Max obliged and took her usual place in the passenger seat.

There she found two suitcases, one of which she recognized as the one she'd brought to Blackwell, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Chloe had already torn into hers and rifled through its insides. It was packed full of clothes, many of which Max had seen her wear before.

Max carefully unzipped hers and found more of the same, it was filled not just with clothes, but her favorite ones. Ones that looked good on her, ones that were particularly comfortable, and ones that held sentimental value.

Max looked up to ask Chloe how weird this was and found her holding a red flannel, one that she had lent Max once before. She was clutching it to herself as if afraid it was going to fly away.

Max could imagine why.

She wanted nothing more than to hold Chloe, to comfort her. But she still wasn't sure if it was her place.

After all, Max thought, she hadn't been able to save Rachel.

Instead, Max zipped her bag closed, and set her camera bag, with William's posthumous donation still inside, on top of it on the floor of the truck. Chloe tucked her suitcase there as well. The cab of the truck wasn't big to begin with so Max had to pull her knees to her chest to fit.

"So, where to, SuperMax?" Chloe asked as the engine sputtered to life.

There was a road running parallel to the beach they were parked on.

"Looks like we've only got two choices." Max replied sheepishly.

"Eeny meeny miney mo" Chloe said, before settling on the Northern direction.

"Works for me." Max said.

They made their way off the beach and onto terra firma and drove alongside the sand.

They passed by beach shops, arcades, and hotels, lining the beachfront. There was still no sign of anyone else.

"Only the finest touristy crap around these parts." Chloe commented.

Max laughed. She admired Chloe's ability to find the humor in everything. Even when they still had no idea where they were.

Even when they'd watched the world end.

They drove awhile, just enjoying the calm after the storm.

She could see Chloe getting anxious in the quiet, though, and soon enough she started digging around the truck frantically.

"Ugh, seriously? They can give us a fully stocked wardrobe, but they can't bring back my damn CDs?" Chloe said, slamming a hand down on the dashboard.

She turned on the radio.

Static. She scanned furiously through the stations but came up empty.

Seeing her frustration, Max searched the horizon for some good news, or at least a distraction.

She saw a street sign in the distance.

"Chloe, look!" Max said, "Maybe we can find out where we are."

Chloe leaned forward over the wheel and squinted. Max mimicked her. They soon got close enough to make it out.

Welcome to Santa Monica

Santa Monica.

That was a far ways from home. It also rang a bell for Max that she couldn't quite place.

She looked to Chloe questioningly and found her staring off vacantly.

Max knew this look. She'd had it a few times since they'd found Rachel's body.

That's when Max remembered. This was where they'd been planning to run away to.

From the way the voices had talked about this "second chance" it had sounded a lot like heaven, but with all of the pain Chloe was having to relive so far, Max wondered if it might be hell.

She reached out and put a hand on Chloe's shoulder.

"Chloe…," Max tried, "I'm sorry. I know we caught Mr. Jefferson and everything, but I know it must be hard. I know she meant a lot to you."

Max felt the stab of guilt in her chest again. She couldn't save everyone, she knew that, but sometimes it felt like she couldn't save anyone. Least of all Chloe.

"Yeah…" Chloe said after a moment, "She would've loved you. I just know she would've."

Max saw the smallest movement in Chloe's shoulders, but the sun had gone down, and Max couldn't see her face.

"Chloe…" She began, not knowing what she was going to follow it with.

"It's getting late." Chloe said, suddenly pulling the truck over to the side of the road. "We should get some rest, try to figure some things out tomorrow."

"Y-yeah." Max managed.

Chloe cut the engine and rolled over to face the window, curling up and pulling the red flannel over herself like a blanket.

Max wanted to hold her, to pull her in and surround her, to show her she was never going to leave. She wanted to take away every bad thing that had ever happened to Chloe and replace it with light and love, because that was what she deserved. But Max knew she didn't have that power anymore, maybe she never did. Besides, Max didn't know where she stood with Chloe now. Chloe had told her she loved her on the cliff, and Max had kissed her. But, for either all Max knew Chloe had only said that because she thought she was going to die. And for all Chloe knew, Max had done the same way.

Since they hadn't talked about it, Max didn't know what to think. So, instead, she rolled over on her side of the cab. And looked out the window, her knees pulled even tighter to her chest. She watched as small drops of rain began falling on the glass.

She heard thunder.

She tried to forget about storms and drifted off to sleep.