"This is ridiculous!" shouted Maria as she collapsed backward onto her bed quite some time later. "We can't just wait around for Isabel to dreamwalk somebody and tell us where they are. We have to do something!"
"We've been over this already," Max responded without trying hide the fact that he wasn't any less concerned than Maria. "We have no way of knowing where they are."
Maria growled and flung a pillow at the wall. It knocked a picture frame askew, but it didn't help ease her tension in the slightest.
The knock on her bedroom door didn't help, either. Her face hard, she stared at the ceiling and refused to acknowledge it. At that moment she wasn't willing to talk to anyone who wasn't already in her room. Well, Isabel or Michael, sure, but they were nowhere to be found, which was why they were having this meeting in the first place.
Tess, who was closest to the door, swung it open.
Sure enough, Maria's mother stood there, a drawn look on her face. Hesitating in the doorway, she finally said, "It's getting late." Maria glanced at the clock and saw that it was, indeed, close to midnight. Liz started to rise from her seat on the bed, but Amy stopped her. "It's all right, Liz. I called your parents, and Alex's and Max's. I told them you and Isabel were working on a project, and got permission for you all to spend the night here. You too, Kyle. Your father said you can stay if you want to." She turned to the small blonde alien who still hovered by the door as if she didn't really belong there. "Tess, I'm afraid I didn't know your parents' phone number," she began.
"That's all right, Mrs. DeLuca," Tess responded offhandedly. "I live with our protector. Half the time he's not around to know if I am or not." The thought crossed Maria's mind that a protector who wasn't there wasn't doing a particularly good job.
Amy DeLuca seemed taken aback by this revelation. "Good lord, there are more of you?"
"Just the one. As far as we know," Max clarified. Somehow this didn't seem to reassure her. She swallowed convulsively. "Anyway," Max continued, "thanks, Mrs. DeLuca." The others echoed him.
"No problem." There was a pause, in which Maria purposely didn't look in her mother's direction. Said mother seemed to come to a decision. "Sheriff Valenti and I have been talking, and maybe I've been a little unfair. Chalk it up to the shock of being held at gunpoint. I'm not going to lie to you; I don't like any of this. But Max, Tess.... I can't stop you from doing what you feel you have to. From what Jim says, you have an obligation to...to your people. And much as I'd like to, I can't stop Liz or Alex from helping, not without telling their parents what's going on." She lifted a hand to forestall the protests. "No, I'm not going to tell anyone about you. I won't put you in more danger than you're already in. But what I can do is make sure that my daughter doesn't end up hurt. Or dead," she said fiercely. She shook her head. "Maria," she continued, her voice softening, "Just promise me you won't leave the house tonight. We'll talk in the morning, once I've had time to...absorb this all." Her jaw clenched, Maria refused to answer. "Please," was all her mother said.
Maria didn't take her eyes away from the ceiling, but she muttered a grudging, "Okay." Her mother let out the breath she'd been holding.
"Thank you." She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them and adopted a more businesslike tone. "As for the rest of you, I can't stop you from doing anything. I'm not your mother. But please, for your parents' sakes--for your own--be very careful. I don't want anything to happen to you. Any of you."
Glances were exchanged between the teens, and Liz spoke for all of them. "We'll be careful, Mrs. DeLuca. We promise."
"Good." She nodded briskly, then started to go. Stopping abruptly, she turned back to Maria who was still lying sullenly on the bed, her arms crossed.
"Maria."
"What?" Maria snapped, sitting up. Her mother studied her and then reached into her pocket. "I almost forgot," she said, tossing a small object to her. "I dug this out--it had rolled underneath the couch. I thought you might want it." She turned to look at the others. "Maria knows where we keep the extra blankets and pillows. Don't stay up too late. You still have school tomorrow morning." And with that, she was gone.
Maria stared glumly at the small blue crystal in her hand, the one Bob had said was a power cell. Whatever Michael had tried to do with it hadn't depleted its energy store; it still gave off a Michael vibe. She folded her fingers gently around it. And yet she almost wished she'd never seen the thing. If she hadn't, if Michael had never created it, Bob wouldn't have been able to track it down and force Michael to go with him. Michael would be with her right now, and she could lose herself in his arms, taking comfort in the warmth of his body....
No, she couldn't. If Michael were still here, he'd be off on his own, avoiding them for some unexplained, mutton-headed reason that only he knew. She would be forced to wait until they shared another dream to be able to talk to him. He certainly wouldn't be busting down her door to--
Wait a sec.
She sucked in a breath, her mind working busily. "Guys," she said, her voice rising in excitement, "I think I have an idea."
* * * * *
"Forget it, Isabel!" snapped Michael as he paced his way across the tiny confines of the room. "If you use your powers and Bob catches you, he's gonna know who you are, that you're important to someone besides just me. You'll just be another weapon to use against Max. We have to be smarter than that."
He hated this. He wasn't good at long-term planning...or even short-term planning. He usually went with whatever his gut urged him to, and let Max bail him out. But Max wasn't here, thank god. Bad enough that Isabel was.
"Come on, help me come up with something," he grumbled. He wished Liz was there. Not to put her in the same mess he and Isabel were in, but because she and her too-logical brain could probably be of use right now. Or even Alex; beneath his joking exterior, he had a way of seeing straight through things to their core.
Come to think of it, Isabel was no dummy either. So why was she coming up with such stupid plans?
Continuing to pace, he thought out loud. "We need to convince him you don't know anything about Max. That you don't know aliens exist, either. And that threatening you isn't going to get him what he wants."
"Which is for you to join with him."
"Yeah," he bit out sourly.
"So we tell him you don't really care about me," she offered. "That I'm worthless as a bargaining chip."
"And then he kills you and buries you in the desert," Michael said, his voice glum. "No, we have to come up with a way of making him want to get rid of you, but not hurt you." He brightened. "You could put on your old 'Queen Isabel' act. Annoy him into it."
"And that stops him from killing me how?" she asked acidly.
Michael shrugged. "It never made me do it."
She gave him a pointed look but didn't comment. Instead, she asked, "What kept him from killing Maria and her mother?"
"I said I'd go with him if he didn't," Michael admitted. "Plus I told him the Sheriff was a good friend of Mrs. DeLuca's, and he would get suspicious if anything happened to her."
"We could tell him the Sheriff's my friend, too."
With a snort, Michael shot back, "Oh yeah, the town Sheriff is good friends with a seventeen-year-old girl. He'll sure buy that. At least Mrs. DeLuca is old." He ran his hands through his hair, as if it would jump-start his brain into coming up with a decent plan. Rather surprisingly, it seemed to work. "I never said your name. He has no idea who you are."
"So?"
"So we tell him you're someone the Sheriff would care about. His kid," he said in growing excitement. Yeah. Yeah, this might work.
Isabel apparently didn't think so. "The Sheriff only has one child. And I hardly think I could be mistaken for his son, Michael," she pointed out.
"Bob might not know that," Michael said stubbornly.
"But what if he does?"
Michael barely held in a frustrated groan. Here he'd finally come up with a great plan--okay, not a great one, but a semi-decent one--so why did Isabel have to be so negative? Fine. She could come up with all the roadblocks she wanted; it wouldn't stop him. It was a good plan, if they could pull it off. And--he smirked inwardly as a solution occurred to him.
"Then we give him something close enough that he'll think he just heard wrong," he said, his tone nonchalant.
"Meaning?"
One corner of Michael's mouth twitched upwards, ever so slightly. "You're now the Sheriff's only kid, Kyla Isabel Valenti."
* * * * *
Maria's fingers trembled from a combination of nerves and excitement as she fumbled with the buttons of her pajama top. Liz and Tess had opted to stay in their street clothes--and there wasn't anything in the DeLuca household to fit the three guys--but Maria figured that her flannel pajamas had worked before, so what could they hurt now? Maybe they'd be lucky.
Wadding her street clothes into a ball, she took a last glance in the bathroom mirror and gave herself a deliberately reassuring smile before heading down the hall towards the bedroom. The others were conversing in pairs: Max and Liz, and somewhat less tensely, Kyle and Tess. Alex was standing in front of her mirror, studying Michael's scrawled message. He seemed to be controlling his concern over Isabel's disappearance, at least enough to make an attempt at humor.
"Nice love letter, 'Ria," he commented as she entered.
"I know," she responded with a smile. "And given that it's Michael, it's probably the only one I'll ever get." She tossed her pile of clothing into the hamper. "Do you think I should have it bronzed?"
He returned her smile with an Alex-grin of his own.
By the desk, Kyle took one look at the faded sheep printed on her nightwear, and snorted. "Hey DeLuca. Love the pajamas. No wonder you have the guys falling all over you," he teased.
Surprisingly, Tess chided him. "Shut up, Kyle," she said, sounding very human.
"Yeah, shut up, Kyle," Maria echoed. "I'm comfortable in these. Besides, I'd wear your football uniform and a clown wig if it would help Michael and Isabel. And it's not like Michael hasn't already seen them."
Kyle's ears pricked up, and he gave her a knowing smile. "Well, well. Way to go, DeLuca! Or should I say way to go, Guerin?"
The three girls spoke as one. "Shut up, Kyle!"
"Are you ready?" Max asked, breaking into the burgeoning spat.
"Yeah, I think so." Maria picked up Michael's blue crystal from the dresser and sat on the edge of her bed. She could feel her stomach tense.
Liz sat next to her and took her other hand. "Don't be too upset if it doesn't work," she said softly, squeezing it. "He might not even be asleep. We'll come up with something else."
Maria refused to even consider the thought that she might not succeed. She gave the others a confident smile. "Oh, it'll work, all right. The only question is, which do I do first: hug Michael for saving Mom and me, or slap him silly for getting himself hurt?"
Tess didn't seem to realize that part of this bravado came directly from the shakiness of Maria's nerves. "First you should find out where he is," she said quite seriously.
"Good point." Maria punched up her pillow and lay down stiffly. She closed her eyes.
A scant moment later, she opened them. "Guys, I'm not used to having an audience while I sleep."
"Just pretend it's a slumber party like you and Alex and I used to have," suggested Liz.
"Whitman, you used to go to slumber parties?" demanded Kyle. "Wuss."
Alex looked over at him, not at all disturbed. "I was spending the night with girls. What were you doing?"
Much to Liz's amusement, Kyle shut up.
From her position on the bed, Maria said petulantly, "Well, could you at least turn out the light?" Max, being closest to the door, flicked the switch off, and the room darkened. Everyone's eyes were immediately drawn to the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. She'd gotten them on impulse during one of her off-again stages with Michael. They reminded her of him.
"Those are new," Alex said thoughtfully.
"So?" Maria said, just a tad defensively. "I like them, okay?" She could hear a muffled snicker from Alex's corner of the room, but did her best to ignore it. With a loud sigh, she closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep.
* * * * *
"You've got to be kidding."
"Nope. He's not going to want anything interfering with training me," Michael explained. "Having the whole Roswell police force out looking for the Sheriff's missing kid could get in the way of that. The best thing is to let you go."
"And what's to stop me from telling everyone where you are?" Isabel said, playing devil's advocate.
"So he blindfolds you before he drops you off somewhere," Michael suggested. He gave her a rather aggravated look. "Of course, if you prefer I can suggest he hits you over the head again instead."
"No, no. A blindfold is good," she said hastily. There was a moment of silence. "Michael, do you really think this is going to work?"
He didn't meet her eyes. "It has to."
Both of them subsided into their own thoughts. Finally, Isabel spoke softly. "Michael, how are you going to get out of this? Maybe I should stay and help."
He shook his head. "No. You can't," he said firmly. "You need to get back and make sure Max is protected. And keep Maria from looking for me."
"Do you think she will?"
"I left her a note not to. But since when has she listened to me?" he said gloomily, beginning to fidget with his rings. "She's probably already organizing a posse."
"Would that be so bad?"
"Hell, yes!" Michael said with conviction. "Other than the fact that we've got to keep Bob away from Max, I don't know how to fight him. But it's only gonna make it harder if I have to worry about everyone else while I'm doing it."
"What if you can't do it by yourself? What if he kills you?" she said bluntly.
"He won't."
"But what if--"
Michael's voice overrode hers. "Max is the king. He's gotta save a whole planet full of people, remember? He's not gonna be able to do that if someone comes along and takes him out. So it's my job to keep that from happening."
She studied him carefully. "So you do care about our planet," she said quietly.
"Yeah. I guess I do." He scratched one eyebrow, hoping his expression wasn't as sheepish as he felt.
"So you've just decided you're expendable?" she pressed again. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of you?"
Michael laughed. "Look, I'm not bucking to get myself hurt here. I know what that's like, Iz; Hank taught me that a long time ago." Somehow the fact that he was admitting anything so personal didn't really bother him. It seemed trivial in retrospect. "And I don't think dying would be any more fun. There's a lot of things I hate about my life, but I'm not trying to take the quick way out. It's just...it's my father who's doing this. I'm the one who should deal with it."
"What about me?"
"No way. You come under the category of people I care about, remember? Besides, Max would skin me if I let anything happen to you."
Isabel sat for a moment. "Well then, what about Nasedo?"
"What about him?"
"Maybe he knows something about this other alien. Maybe he could help."
"Come off it, Iz. He doesn't trust me. He thinks I'm dangerous. So why would he give any help to someone who he thinks is betraying Max?"
She shrugged delicately.
"Look, it's late," he said. "We know what we're gonna do; we just gotta wait for Bob to make an appearance. Until then, I'm gonna get some sleep." Pulling off his jacket, he folded it into an approximation of a pillow and stretched out on the floor. Through his closed eyes, he could sense her studying him. He didn't move, forcing himself to breathe evenly. After a while, he heard the bedsprings creak as she lay down.
He hadn't really intended to sleep; he'd just wanted to stop talking in circles about everything. But the leftover sedative in his system and his headache combined to put him out, and he quickly lost his hold on consciousness.
His dreams were confused, troubling...filled with the sort of tumultuous images he'd experienced after Bob had unblocked his mind. The hunger for violence that he'd controlled since awakening played itself out in bloody and horrific nightmares. He moved restlessly in his sleep, muttering.
He couldn't have said how long he dreamed, but the rattle of a key in the door's lock woke him with a start. Finally free of the drug he'd been given, he knew immediately where he was and what was happening. Bob had returned.
Showtime.
* * * * *
Cautiously, Liz sidled over closer to Max. "I don't think this is going to get the job done," she whispered.
"Give it a little time," Max suggested. "She hasn't been asleep very long."
Sitting on the floor by Maria's dresser, Alex looked up from the pool of light he was shining idly on the pages of one of Maria's fashion magazines. "She's not asleep," he said, not bothering to keep his voice down.
Maria sat up and reached for the switch on her bedside lamp. "Well, maybe if I had some peace and quiet--" she began before interrupting herself. "Oh, who do I think I'm fooling?" she demanded rather hysterically. "All I had to do was go to sleep. How difficult is that? Easy. A baby could do it. Babies do do it. But me? No, of course not. Oh well, it's not as if we didn't have loads of other ways to contact Michael and find out where they are so we can help them. It doesn't matter at all that I...just...can't...do it!"
"Chill," ordered Kyle, not unkindly. Alex stood and began to look through the vials on Maria's dresser.
"I'm all out," she told him. "I don't think there's a bottle of cedar oil left in the entire state of New Mexico--yet another Michael Guerin-induced shortage," she said dramatically.
"It's all right, 'Ria," Liz protested. "Isabel will dreamwalk someone and let us know where they are."
Maria sat upright. "How can she dreamwalk us when we aren't even asleep?" she shouted. Flinging herself back onto her pillow, she screwed up her face in concentration and tried to force herself to sleep. Not surprisingly, it didn't work.
"Max," Liz said suddenly. "Can't you put her out like you did Michael when we had to get him out of his head?"
Tess and Kyle exchanged puzzled glances, and the jock said, "For being Liz Parker, you're not making a whole heck of a lot of sense there, Liz."
But Maria knew immediately what her friend was talking about, and jumped on the idea. "That's it!" she exclaimed. "Do it, Max. Come on, come on. I don't have all day here."
He took a step over to her. "Are you sure?"
"I trust you," she said indignantly. "Besides, you did it to Michael. If he could take it, I can take it." She closed her eyes and waited breathlessly.
"You might want to breathe," Max said, with a hint of a smile in his voice. "Oxygen is a good thing."
The corners of her mouth lifted, but she didn't open her eyes. Instead, she concentrated on breathing in and out slowly, evenly. She welcomed the light touch of Max's hand on her forehead. She let herself relax a bit, sure that Max would come through, and her slide into slumber was almost unnoticeable.
The sound of gently lapping water was what finally caught her attention, and she opened her eyes to find herself in an idyllic clearing, with unbelievably lush green grass, and sunlight dappling the ground around her. Not far away, a waterfall trickled down past lichen-covered rocks to end in an almost endless shining pool of water that played at her feet. The scent of honeysuckle filled the air.
"Great," Maria muttered, her hands on her flannel-clad hips. It was about as far from Michael's typical dream desert and the round room where they usually met as it could get. Well, no. It could be snowing.
She slowly turned in a circle, trying to get a feel for Michael's direction. He was there, she was sure of it. It wasn't the tingle that heralded his approach in the waking world, but more an inner certainty. And unfortunately, it told her that he was across the water, in the direction of the falls.
She moved closer to the pool, until her hibiscus-polished toes hovered over the water. "Great," she repeated. "All I need is a rowboat and somebody very strong to row it." But neither were forthcoming. With a shrug, she stepped into the water. It was cold. Figured. So she'd get wet. It was just dream water, right? She wasn't really wet; she was just dreaming it. With determination, she moved forward; the water quickly rose to her knees.
Undaunted, she kept forging ahead. She was almost two-thirds of the way to the waterfall when she realized the water was still hovering at knee level. Surely it should be over her head by now...maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.
A hundred or so more yards of slogging through the pool, and she was standing at the foot of the falls, looking up. Even though the top seemed to get father and farther away, and the water pounded down more furiously each minute, the spray didn't land anywhere near her. From her knees up, she was totally dry.
Okay, now how to get to the top? No ladder, no obliging helicopter standing by...but she wasn't about to let that stop her. This was her dream, right? Isabel and Michael had proven they could affect things in their own dreams, so why couldn't she? Of course she couldn't just wave her hand and have things happen...or maybe she could.
"I need a way up," she said smartly to the rushing water in front of her. And that was all it took. The stream of water pulled back on one side, and a series of step-like protrusions appeared in the rocks. Her way up, just like magic.
Grinning, she moved towards the bottom-most step, the water splashing around her knees as she sloshed forward. She put one hand out to steady herself for the start of the climb. Then something inside her made her stop.
Why settle for an arduous climb, in bare feet no less? This was her dream, after all. Throwing any remaining shred of doubt behind her, she walked directly towards the center of the waterfall. And like Moses, the waters parted before her. She stepped from dancing blue water onto smooth dry stone.
And a door appeared before her.
A very familiar door, with dark wooden geometric carvings depicting almost-but-not-quite recognizable pictures. The door behind which she'd first found the dream room she shared with Michael. Joyfully she strode towards it, only barely noticing that her pajama legs were now dry. That didn't matter; only that she could sense him now. Michael was behind that door.
Smoothing her hair down, she ignored the fact that she was primping for him. Her hand reached out eagerly to turn the doorknob.
Which wasn't there.
She blinked her eyes and looked again. Yes, this was the same door, she was positive of it. But where was the handle? Determined not to let that stand in her way, she put her palms flat on the wood and pushed.
Nothing.
Fine. Michael would just have to open the door from the other side, then. No biggie. She licked her lips, set her shoulders, and knocked.
"Michael? It's me."
No response.
"Come on, Michael. I know you're in there; I can feel you, remember? I need to talk to you."
Not so much as a sound from the other side of the door. But surely he wouldn't be keeping her out on purpose, would he? That had been the deal: she'd leave him alone on the outside, but in this room, he was fair game.
"Please, Michael," she begged. "We need to know where you and Isabel are. Please. Please let me help you." All the happiness faded from her face. "Let me in."
But nothing--not her pleading, not her threats, not her pounding on the door until her hands felt bruised--nothing ever got through, because the door never opened, and Michael never answered.
Silent tears were rolling down Maria's cheeks as she finally woke up in her own bedroom. She ignored them, choosing to lie silently for a moment.
"What happened?" asked Tess, sounding like she had a fair idea it wasn't good.
Maria didn't answer her; instead she rose and moved to the mirror. Ignoring her own reflection in the dim light of the bedside lamp, she reached out to touch the words Michael had scrawled on the glass.
Don't look for me. But how could she not?
"I couldn't get in," she said softly, not turning around to face the others. "I found the door to our room, but I couldn't get in." She was quiet for moment. "I don't know if he was keeping me out on purpose, or if Bob...if Bob did something to him, and he couldn't let me in," she whispered.
"It's okay," Alex told her, forcing confidence into his voice. "Isabel will let us know where they are. We just have to wait for her."
And the timing couldn't have been better if they'd planned it. It was at that very moment that a loud knocking sounded on the DeLucas' front door. Five teenagers stared at Alex, as if his words had conjured up the sound; then the six of them raced out of Maria's room and towards the front door.
It wouldn't have been unexpected for Kyle, West Roswell's star athlete, to get there first, but two genetically enhanced aliens and a frantically determined Maria barreled past him and left him--not to mention Liz and Alex--in the proverbial dust. The three of them reached the front door just in time to see Max swing it open and a figure stumble through the doorway.
None of them said a word.
Standing before them was a somewhat frightened, uncharacteristically disheveled, and extremely annoyed Isabel Evans.
CHAPTER 26
The other teens had long since left to go to their respective houses to get ready for school, but Maria lingered as long as possible in her room. The events of the preceding afternoon and the strain of the sleepless night hadn't left her in any shape for the mother-daughter talk that she knew was coming. That she dreaded, actually. When she finally left her room, she hoped to dart out through the kitchen and avoid the ruckus.
Unfortunately, leaving wasn't so easy. Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table, dressed in jeans and a baggy sweater. Her good hand was wrapped around a cup of herbal tea, but she wasn't drinking, just staring into space.
She didn't look like she'd gotten any more sleep than Maria had.
Clutching the strap of her book bag, Maria tried to brazen her way through like it was any other day. Casually she grabbed an apple from a bowl on the counter and headed to the door. She didn't get far.
"Maria."
She didn't turn back around. "I've got school, Mom."
"That can wait. I think we need to talk."
Maria faced her mother and shrugged. "Unless you're ready to let me help Michael, we don't have anything to talk about."
Amy sighed. "I think we do."
"I have English, Mom."
With a shake of her head, Amy said, "As a matter of fact, you don't. I already called the school and told them you'd be late this morning."
"Oh." Maria reluctantly plopped into a chair with a thud, setting her apple and book bag rather more gently on the table in front of her. She noticed in passing that they both had unconsciously avoided the chairs Michael had tied them to. A shiver ran down her spine.
Her mother seemed as reluctant to start the conversation as Maria was, but after a moment, she asked, "Do you want some breakfast?"
"I'm not hungry."
"No, I don't suppose you are." Amy toyed with her now lukewarm tea. "Is Isabel all right?"
"Shaken up, but she's okay," Maria said tersely. Her fingers played with the bracelet she wore, turning it around and around on her wrist. The repetitive motion should have been soothing, but wasn't.
Her mother was going to have to physically pry any more words from Maria. She certainly wasn't going to volunteer anything. And sure enough, Amy didn't back off. "Did she know where Michael was?" she asked evenly.
Maria felt pure defeat wash over her. "No. As far as the world is concerned, Michael's just reverting to type and is blowing off school." She heard the bitterness in her tone and clamped her lips together to keep from saying more.
Amy took a sip of tepid tea. "Actually, that's not true. I told the school he was home sick--stomach flu."
Maria's jaw dropped, and she stared numbly at her mother. "You what?"
"I had to call them about you, anyway."
There was a moment of silence, then Maria shook her head. "I don't get you, Mom."
"I've done a lot of thinking in the past...oh, eleven and a half hours. And what I finally came to, about four-thirty this morning, is that right now it doesn't matter what you feel about Michael, or how he's treated you."
"Mom--"
"No, let me finish. Sometimes you just have to do what's right. And I think, in this case, what is right is to help. Michael needs it; whether or not he deserves it is insignificant. I won't say this whole thing doesn't scare me to death; it does. By the very nature of what he is, Michael Guerin is dangerous, and he could wind up getting you--or someone else--killed. But he's also in trouble, and to ignore that--to sit blindly by--that would make us less human than he is."
"He does deserve help, Mom. He--"
"I'm not going to get in that discussion right now. Neither of us is ready to talk about it calmly, and I don't want to fight about it. I know what lies down that path, and it's losing you. I'm not going to let that happen to us."
Maria sat quietly for a moment, then said, "Like it did with your parents?"
Amy met her eyes honestly. "I wound up pregnant and married at eighteen, cut off from my family. I don't want that for you."
"I don't, either."
A tiny smile crossed Amy's face. "Good."
Maria looked down at the table. "So what does all of this mean?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Amy took a deep breath. "It means I'm not going to stand in the way of you helping Michael."
"Oh, Mom!" Maria burst out, moving to hug her.
Her mother put a hand out. "However, there are some conditions."
"What conditions?" Maria said suspiciously.
"You are not to go rushing off half-cocked without discussing it with Sheriff Valenti or me first. If either of us tells you to do something--or not to do something--you are to obey without argument. You are not to lie to me, or conveniently 'forget' to tell me what's going on. You are not to miss school. Above all, you are to be very, very careful. We'll get Michael out of this fix. Because if everything he said--and Max said--is true, then he needs help. But afterwards, the three of us need to talk," Amy warned.
"Okay," Maria answered, refusing to think about that at this point.
"Also," her mother added, "you're not doing any of this without me."
Maria looked at her in surprise. "Mom?" she squeaked.
Amy shrugged. "I figure Michael can't help but make it through with two DeLucas working on his behalf. Do we have a deal?"
In a bound, Maria was off the chair and in her mother's arms. "Thanks, Mom," she whispered.
Her mother's grip tightened. "Just be careful. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you." Maria nodded.
"I will. I promise."
Pulling back, Amy smoothed Maria's hair off her forehead. "It's hard for me to see how grown up you are sometimes. In less than a year, you'll be eighteen. I need to start trusting in your judgment a little." She smiled, a little sadly. "But that doesn't mean you won't always be my little girl."
"I know, Mom. I love you."
With a last squeeze, Amy released her daughter. "Now how about some breakfast with me? You have time before second period, and I think I can manage some one-handed waffles," she tempted.
Maria smiled. "Yeah. Waffles sound great."
* * * * *
Almost immediately, Michael was on his feet. The door swung open, not enough to let him see outside the room, but enough for Bob to slip through. The alien was holding a brown paper sack which he tossed at Michael.
Michael caught it instinctively, but didn't take his eyes off the creature in front of him.
"It's just breakfast," Bob said cheerfully. "We have to keep your strength up for your training. So," he added, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "Did everyone sleep all right?"
From her seat on the bed, Isabel didn't answer. But almost unconsciousely, Michael's eyes flicked back to the spot on the concrete where his makeshift pillow still lay. Bob didn't miss it. "So, she made you sleep on the floor, did she?" he asked, sounding more than a little amused.
Michael allowed some of his annoyance to show on his face. "She wasn't real wild about being hit over the head and kidnapped," he grated out. He glanced over to the bed. Isabel was still sitting, wearing a peeved expression.
"So I see," returned Bob.
Michael decided it was now or never. "Look, we need to talk," he said, moving closer to the older alien, who didn't seem at all threatened by his approach. Michael lowered his voice. "There's something you should know about her," he said, trying his best to sound open and honest. "Taking her was a stupid move. She's Sheriff Valenti's daughter."
Bob raised one eyebrow speculatively. "You're dating the Sheriff's daughter?"
"Maybe I like to live dangerously," Michael said with a shrug.
"And why should her identity concern me?" Bob asked, seemingly unperturbed by the news.
"Because he's probably already got the whole department out looking for her," Michael explained, not too patiently. "They're gonna get in your way."
Bob studied him for a moment. "And that would probably be of concern if we were anywhere near Roswell," he said. He smiled mockingly. "But we're not."
They weren't? Just how long had he been unconscious, anyway? "Then where are we?"
"Oh, I don't think that really matters, does it? Once you've accepted your duties, you won't care; and until then, there's no reason to give you any unnecessary information, is there?"
Michael could feel his tension rising. "Just let her go. You don't need her, and I'm already sick of her whining."
Isabel spoke up for the first time. "You're sick of my whining? God, Michael, you should count yourself lucky that whining is all I've done. You've had some stupid ideas before, but if you think I'm going to spend another minute in this rattrap, you've got another think coming," she ranted. Queen Isabel in action. Michael was proud.
"Come on, let her go," he said. "She's gonna drive me crazy."
But Bob was shaking his head. "No, I don't think so. A hostage is a hostage. And somehow I don't think you're quite as willing to work with me as you seem."
Michael's fists clenched; he didn't even care that he was still holding the brown bag and that it was getting squashed. But again, Bob didn't miss it.
"Aren't you going to eat your breakfast, after I went to all that trouble?" Michael, feeling grim, didn't answer. He was seriously considering giving in to his ever-increasing need for violent action and jumping the guy, Isabel's safety be damned. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to pound that annoying smirk off the other alien's face.
But he couldn't chance it. Carefully, he bent down and placed the sack on the floor by his feet, then stood, arms crossed, and stared at Bob in defiance.
"No? Not hungry? Well then, you can leave it for your little girlfriend here," Bob said, still infuriatingly calm. He pointed at the faded wallpaper. "Up against the wall," he instructed. When Michael didn't budge, he shook his head. "Fine," he said, and with a quick movement pulled a small metallic device out of his pocket and aimed it. An arc of greenish light flickered from the device, and Michael collapsed to his knees, breathing hard. His heart pounded. He wasn't sure, but he felt like he'd just been electrocuted.
Within a matter of moments, Bob had hauled him to his feet, strong-armed him face-first towards the wall, and secured his hands behind his back. Michael recognized the feeling of cold metal on his wrists; he'd been handcuffed once before, when he'd been arrested for breaking into the UFO museum in his search for information on James Atherton. He hadn't liked it then, either.
"You really should have eaten," the other alien said as he pulled a black cloth sack over Michael's head, blinding him. Michael had a sudden claustrophobic understanding of how people felt before being put in front of a firing squad. "You'll be hungry before the day is over."
Michael didn't bother trying to struggle as Bob grabbed him by the back of the shirt and propelled him across the room, but he heard Isabel protest.
"Where are you taking him?" she demanded. "Hey, I am talking to you, you can't just--" and then her voice faded away into unintelligibility as a door slammed between them. Michael heard the tumblers of the lock click, and then he was pushed forward again. He could hear Isabel pounding on the door behind them. Bob had left her alone, not realizing that she, having powers that actually worked on command, would be able to get out of the locked room. He would just have to keep Bob distracted long enough for her to get out of there. And hope the alien was working alone.
Michael wasn't sure of how much time passed, but he guessed it was about nine or ten minutes before they got wherever they were going. A sudden strong push had him stumbling forward, and he barely had time to regain his balance before he felt the handcuff loosen on his left wrist. Instinctively he swung around, his right hand shooting out in front of him and his left darting up to rip the bag from his head.
Bob was standing several feet away from him, the same annoying smile on his face. "You can't hurt me, boy. A side benefit of the serum I gave you last night--it blocks your powers. And they'll stay that way until I decide otherwise." He smiled cunningly at Michael. "Go ahead. Try it."
Regarding him through narrowed eyes, Michael didn't move. He also didn't try to use his powers; they weren't reliable anyway, although he hoped to keep that fact from his father. And he wasn't going to give the other alien the malicious satisfaction of seeing him try and fail. Slowly he lowered his outstretched hand and looked around the room.
It had the same concrete floor as the room he'd awakened in, but the walls were also concrete. Even the ceiling. The one door was a thick, sturdily-made metal door with no handle. A faint hum from one of the overhead fluorescent tubes turned to a loud buzz as it flickered and died. The only piece of furniture in the large space was a slightly dented metal folding chair.
"Sit down," Bob instructed.
Michael raised his chin. "I'd rather stand."
"I'm sure you would. But you're not the one giving the orders, now are you?" Bob pulled the electroshock device he'd used on Michael out of his pocket and held it up. "Want to reconsider?"
Hell, yeah. Feeling his jaw tense, Michael moved slowly backward without taking his glance off the other alien. When he felt the chair hit the back of his legs, he sank into it.
"That's better," Bob said in satisfaction. Michael crossed his arms, ignoring the handcuffs that still dangled from his right wrist.
"So now what?" he demanded, refusing to show his apprehension.
The other alien looked down at him, his expression clearly indicating that he didn't consider Michael terribly bright. "Your training, of course."
Michael had seen that expression before, on a number of other faces. Usually teachers and school administrators, and the occasional student who'd bothered to look in his direction. He was used to it; it didn't particularly bother him now. "Which means what?"
"Which means I'm going to enjoy myself." His father leered down at him. "Somehow I don't particularly think you will, though."
* * * * *
By mutual consent, the group gathered in the back of an empty classroom for lunch. None of them had stopped at the cafeteria, but enough of them had brown-bagged it for everyone to munch on something. Maria watched glumly as Alex grabbed a barbecue chip from the open bag in front of him and passed the bag to Kyle. How could they eat at a time like this? She turned back to Isabel.
"I told you last night," Isabel was saying. "I don't know what happened. Alex and I split up to flank the house, and the next thing I knew, I woke up stashed in somebody's trunk. It took a while to find the lock and open it. I went to Maria's as soon as I got out, but you all were already there."
"And you didn't see who hit you?" asked Kyle.
Isabel looked more than a little exasperated. "If I had, don't you think I would have told you?"
"It wasn't Michael," Maria put in firmly.
"No one is saying it was," Liz said soothingly. "I think it's more likely that it was Bob."
Max shook his had. "But then why didn't they take her with them? Maria, you said he had no problem with taking hostages."
"He didn't, not if he thought it would control Michael," Maria said, frowning. "But why wouldn't he want to take you, Isabel? If he's out to get Max, you'd be really valuable."
"You said he didn't know who Max was. Maybe he doesn't know who I am, either," Isabel replied.
Maria thought back to the previous afternoon. It was still so fresh in her mind, like it happened moments instead of hours earlier. Somehow Michael had convinced the other alien that she wasn't important to him, that someone else was. Unless Michael had a really vivid imagination, he probably was thinking about someone he knew. Which limited things to Liz, Tess and Isabel. She had her suspicions who he'd thought about. But she wasn't going to let it bother her. He thought of Isabel like a sister; she knew that. But still....
Tess spoke up. "The important question isn't who hit Isabel," she pointed out. "It's how we're going to find Michael."
The group lapsed into gloomy silence. Neither Maria nor Isabel had had any success dreamwalking the previous night, and they didn't have a license plate number for the Sheriff to trace.
"I'm afraid all we can do is keep trying to dreamwalk, and wait for Michael to get in touch with us," Max said finally. "It's like he's vanished off the face of the earth."
"Maybe he has," said Kyle, through a mouthful of sandwich. At their looks of confusion, he explained, "Maybe Bob took him on his spaceship or something."
The idea struck both Max and Liz, who looked at each other speculatively. "I'll head to the UFO museum after school," Max said. "See if there have been any recent sightings."
"That's assuming Bob showed up recently and that he hasn't been hanging around since 1947," Liz said.
Looking particularly grim, Max said, "Pierce told me there were two aliens who were captured back then. Nasedo was one, but he escaped; the other was held for three years. I thought he died." He turned to Tess. "Did Nasedo ever say anything about other aliens?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Nothing concrete," she answered. "He mostly spoke about the three of you."
Maria abandoned her uneaten lunch and began to pace back and forth. "I can't stand this. How are we expected to just go to class and act like everything's all right? It isn't all right!"
"Too bad you just can't get a pack of bloodhounds to track him down," said Kyle off the cuff.
Maria froze in her tracks and slowly turned to Isabel, who was staring back at her. They spoke at the same time.
"Do you think--"
"That might--"
Cutting off, they both began to smile. With a happy skip, Maria ran over to Kyle and kissed him soundly on the lips.
"What was that for?" he asked in consternation.
"Because you're a genius!" she sang out. "We don't need to dreamwalk. If he's still on this planet, I can find him!"
* * * * *
Hours later, Michael slumped forward in the chair, barely able to hold his head up. Bob hadn't lied when he'd told Michael he wasn't going to enjoy it. The bastard had seemed to take total pleasure in what he was putting Michael through.
He'd latched onto Michael's face, palm spread over the mark on his cheek, and ruthlessly forced Michael's mind open. It hadn't been quite as much of a shock as it had been the previous day, but it hadn't been fun. Or anything near fun. The pictures he'd seen, three-dimensional living images, had sickened him to his very soul. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what Bob thought he was going to accomplish by it. It wasn't making him want to go out and recreate what he saw; indeed, it had just the opposite effect.
Somehow, he'd managed to keep his mental wall built up, keeping the other alien from tromping about in his inner thoughts. Bob had looked at him rather oddly several times throughout the day, but had seemed tireless in pursuit of his goal. Frankly, Michael wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up. But then again, Isabel had had plenty of time to escape.
He raised his eyes to look across the room at Bob. "So how much more of this can I expect?" he said, managing somehow to keep the exhaustion out of his voice.
He was pleased to see that, rather than wearing his self-confident, annoying smile, Bob looked a little unsure of himself. But the alien blustered on, "As long as it takes."
"Having problems getting me to cooperate?" Michael goaded him. "What a shame." He met Bob's eyes squarely. "Guess I'm not quite the chip off the old block you hoped for, huh?" Sometimes being a smartass just felt good.
"Having problems getting me to cooperate?" Michael goaded him. "What a shame." He met Bob's eyes squarely. "Guess I'm not quite the chip off the old block you hoped for, huh?" Sometimes being a smartass just felt good.
And sometimes it paid off. Bob seemed more than a little put out. "Up against the wall," he ordered, his calm demeanor somewhat worse for wear.
Michael rose to his feet and moved slowly towards the wall in front of him, hoping he was hiding his weakness. He didn't protest when Bob pushed him rather roughly into the concrete.
"Arms," the alien barked, and Michael obediently put his arms behind him for the dangling handcuff to be fastened around his left wrist. He didn't struggle when the black bag was dropped over his head, either. Bob was probably taking him back to the other room. At least he hoped so. Then he could get some much-needed rest and try to regain enough energy to take the other alien on. Besides, he was kind of looking forward to seeing Bob's reaction when he realized Isabel was nowhere to be found.
Beneath the black cloth, his lips twitched upwards. He stumbled twice as he was propelled out of the room, but it didn't change his expression. Not even being shoved against a wall hard enough to bruise his cheek--the unmarked one--wiped the smirk off his face. However, he did school his features as the bag was pulled from his head. Blinking, he waited until the handcuffs were removed; then he turned around...
...and his heart sank.
Standing by the closet door was a rather apologetic-looking Isabel Evans, who should have been on her way to protect Max, to keep Maria away. Isabel Evans, who had not escaped.
TBC...
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