The clone grins and sits up, her knees still digging into Max’s arms, making escape a near impossibility. “There you go. Always were a little slow on the uptake, but you’re getting there.”
Max frowns, deeply disturbed by the fact that someone’s been watching her. “Always knew I had voyeuristic side. Never knew it was bad enough to stalk someone. And hey- maybe I’m not the only one you’ve been following. Must’ve pissed someone off pretty badly for them to give you that shiner.”
Her clone scowls, bringing a hand across Max’s face swiftly. “Shut up. I can see through your pathetic attempt to act brave. If you really wanna know, I got this after a night out with Bruce. Lemme tell you, honey, he was real excited to fuck you again.” Max’s eyes go wide and the clone chuckles. “That’s right, and unless you want your boyfriends to find out about that, you’ll keep your goddamn trap shut and let me talk.” She stares at Max expectantly and, when no amount of sass comes from her, she begins.
“You don’t deserve to be happy Max. Not after all the things you’ve done. The things we’ve done. Why do you get to have it all? Why do you get Donny and Calvin? They both deserve better than you, you know. And let’s be honest, you’re not entirely sure how much longer you can keep this up. Someone like us… we can’t be held down for very long. We get antsy- bored, even.
You remember the circus? Of course you do. We had a good thing going there too, till it burned to the ground. We had people there who cared about us. But you- heh, you’re just never happy with things. You… we were suffocating; just itching for a chance to break away. And then the fire started. And every goddamned thing there burned to a crisp.” The clone stops, her eyes burning a hole into Max, who does her best to look away. Max doesn’t think about that day for a reason. The things her counterpart is saying; it’s hard to hear. The clone continues, either oblivious or apathetic to Max’s discomfort with the subject. “Five people died, Maxie. And everyone thought it was us. Hell, people still think it was us. That’s why we’re here, after all.”
“I didn’t set that fire. It wasn’t my fault.” Max can’t quite figure out why she feels the need to defend herself to… herself, but she does it anyway. Her clone smiles sweetly.
“Oh, I know. I’m you, remember? I know every stupid thought that went through your pretty little head back then. And you know what?” The clone leans forward slightly, pushing a strand of hair out of Max’s hair almost tenderly. “We were just a little bit happy that the fire happened- that those people died. Because we were free.” Her tone is light and not anywhere near as menacing as it had been for the entirety of their conversation- and that scares Max more than all the other things that’ve happened tonight combined. She wiggles around slightly, trying to ascertain if she’s got any room to move. Between the other Max’s talk about fires and freedom, the original remembered that, during her rush to get out of the base, she had the foresight to stop by Aristide’s room and take a butterfly knife- in case things got hairy. If she can move her arm just enough to reach into her pocket, she can use it and be free. The other her looks out towards the bases, appearing lost in thought.
“Fire and death and misery follow you everywhere. The people you supposedly care about? Donny, Calvin, Aristide? They don’t care about you. I mean- shit, Aristide took off weeks ago without even so much as a ‘goodbye’, right? Donny and Calvin carried on a secret relationship behind your back for god knows how long.” She returns her attention to Max suddenly, angry. ”What does that tell you, Max? How much better off would everyone be if you just… disappeared?”
Max has almost reached her knife when the weight of the clone’s words hit her. Everything she says is true in some sense. All the things Max has been trying not to think about for the last year all bundled into one lone monologue. She swallows thickly, suddenly finding it hard to breathe- though whether it’s due to the sudden swell of emotion, or the smoke she inhaled back at the base, or the fact that Max 2.0 is still sitting on her chest, she isn’t sure. “I- you’re right. Is that what you wanted? To hear that things would be easier if I wasn’t around? It’s true. We both know it.” Max begins reaching for the knife again; biting back the angry tears that are threatening to spill over. “Or did you wanna go ahead and take care of that little problem for me? Because god- how fucking perfect would it be if you were the one to kill me? Goddamn poetic, right?” It’s then that her hand touches cool metal, and Max tightens her grip on the thing, waiting for her moment. The clone cocks her head, looking almost confused for a second.
“No honey, I’m not gonna kill you. Donny’s gonna do that for me.”
And that’s exactly the kind of moment Max needed. She pulls the knife out of her pocket and jams it into the clone’s thigh, taking a deep satisfaction in the way her flesh gives to the metal. Her clone rolls off Max, clutching her leg and lets out a growl that’s closer to a snarl. “You fucking cunt. Fine. You want me to do it?! I’ll be happy to. Then maybe I’ll go find those two faggots you’re fucking and I’ll kill them too. Make one watch while I take care of the other.” Max tries her best to block out the other’s words, but the jab about Calvin and Donny is too much and she tackles the clone, pinning her to the ground and shoving the knife deep into her already blackened eye. The clone lets out an inhuman shriek and begins flailing beneath Max, screaming a mess of unintelligible words at her.
Max is so concerned with not being thrown from the thrashing woman beneath her that she doesn’t notice when the other her grabs a nearby tree branch and brings it flying towards Max’s head. There’s a split second of realization before the branch makes contact with her head with a loud, wet crack and Max slumps over, unconscious.
The clone pushes the other woman off and manages to pull herself into a seated position. The damned knife is still lodged in her eye. Shit, that hurts. She takes a few deep breaths to steady herself and carefully wraps a hand around the knife. Even just the gentle nudging of the handle is enough to make Max cry out in pain. Another deep breath. She can do this- she has to do this. It’s like ripping off a bandage- gotta do it quick. With one last deep breath, Max yanks the knife free from her eye with another scream.
It takes a few minutes of pathetic whimpering and self-pity before Max’s brain remembers that there are still certain things that need to be taken care of. Her leg needs to be taken care of… the other her needs to be tied up so she can’t get away… and shit, she needs to stop her eye from bleeding. She rips a strip of fabric from her shirt and uses it to tie up her leg- that’ll have to do until she can seek proper medical attention, and ties Max to a tree using some rope she pilfered from the base during one of her excursions. That’ll have to do for now.
She’s got to go find Calvin.
