Flight (new version)

Chapter 15: A New Identity

Mary. I have to find Mary.

Max rolled off the bed and stumbled through the disorienting dark to where he could see a faint line of light delineating the storage room's door. His chest felt tight. He could barely breath.

Max flung open the door. Dim light from a lantern gave the larger room a soft glow. It was fairly deserted except for a pile of blankets in the corner where he'd last seen Mary.

Max rushed over to find with a wave of relief that she was there, snuggled under a blanket, breathes steady and rhythmic. Max sucked in a long, trembling breath and let it out slowly.

She's alright.

He sat down on the cold wood floor beside her, kneels pulled up to his chest, head sinking forward so that his forehead rested on his legs and his long hair tickled his skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You wouldn't be hurt if I hadn't froze up."

Mary let out a long sigh from within her slumber, though she did not wake. He imagined her protesting, saying it wasn't his fault.

"But it was." Max clenched his fists. "Every time I see him, I just get...I have magic now. We successfully escaped. I should be stronger than he is. But why is it I still feel so—" He winced as his nails suddenly dug a little too deep into his palms. He could still vividly picture the Task Master's face, green eyes gleaming, finger on the trigger of his obsiterite gun. Searching for him. Hunting him down.

"I'll get stronger, Mary. I promise. Then this will never have to happen again."

His eyes were feeling heavy. Max stood, glanced once more at Mary, making sure she was still breathing, still alive. Then he crept back to his room, found his bed, and succumbed back to his nightmare-riddled sleep.

#

Max returned to Mary first thing in the morning. She was awake and smiled as he approached.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better than yesterday." Mary gently touched her side. "It hurts to make sudden movements and otherwise it just kinda aches, but it's tolerable. I think it's already beginning to heal."

"Already? Weird. You think it's because our magic returned?

"Maybe." Mary glanced up and Max turned to see the girl who had taken care of Mary last night walking toward them.

"Good morning!" The girl nodded at Griffin then directed her bright green eyes to Mary. "Do you mind if I check your wound?"

Mary nodded and lied down on top of her bed covers. Max studied the girl. She had brown skin nearly the same shade as Mary's, perhaps the slightest bit darker. Her hair was a light brown, short, and extremely curly.

"I never got to thank you last night," Max said. "Um, so thank you."

"You're welcome." Meadow finished rewrapping Mary's wound then stood up. "My name's Meadow. What're your names?"

"My name's—" he paused, thinking. "My name's Griffin."

Mary stared at him curiously. "You chose a new name?"

"What Stare said makes sense. We aren't slaves anymore. We shouldn't have to keep those names," Max, now Griffin, replied.

Mary tilted her head, thinking. "Hm, then I'm changing mine to Fern."