The Short-term Fix

by Yettaren

        “Michael,” Max says in a level, unexpressive tone. “How about doing our guests a favor?” We’ve escorted them into the auditorium, and Max already has his slide show lit and ready to go. The light from the projector is almost blinding, but I keep my gaze steady.

        “You got it,” I say, and I step forward to remove their belts. As Max aims the FBI weapon at the two men, I drape the belts over my shoulders, keeping the ammunition at the ready, almost like I’m preparing for battle.

No, not like.

I am. I am preparing for battle.

        I train my gun on the two of them, and nod at Max, who hands me his gun and then steps forward to deal with the prisoners’ hands. We have one pair of handcuffs and some rope, and it makes sense to use the handcuffs on Valenti, seeing as how we’re releasing him momentarily. He shoves Pierce into a chair and leaves Valenti standing. We’ve got two different things in mind for the two of them.

Max takes longer to tie up Pierce, and I see him savoring each jerk and yank of the rope. I have to bite the inside of my lip to not give away my shock at Max’s callousness. No emotions. Either one of us. We’re soldiers, commandoes, united at least for the moment, taking charge of our lives.

I aim the gun steadily between Pierce and Valenti, trying not to betray the cold fear I feel even to touch it. I know how to shoot a gun, Hank took me hunting every once in awhile when he was sober, and sometimes when he wasn’t. But I always used to miss. Not because I didn’t know where I was pointing, but because I couldn’t bring myself to shoot a living thing. I always hit exactly where I planned on putting the bullet, and if I have to, I’m prepared to put this bullet in Pierce’s other arm to keep him from hurting anyone I love.

        Max turns and studies me, as I aim the gun at our two prisoners, dressed in their ammunition. I see his eyes widen a little at the sight, the first hint of any emotion he’s showed since the lights came back up. I wonder just what I look like, but I keep my gaze steady, and after a moment, he takes his gun back. He steps slowly around us, the stars from the projector reflecting off his stony face.

        “I can’t believe I trusted you,” Max says to Valenti, then nods at me. I fix my gun squarely on Valenti’s back, take him by the hands, and shove him towards the storage room.

        As soon as the door closes, Valenti turns to face me. “I always thought you were out to get us,” I say. I put the gun safety back on as I let go of his shoulders. “And I’m glad I was wrong.” I move to release him from the handcuffs.

        “I’ll take care of Pierce as soon as Max gets what he needs,” he assures me. He sighs and holds his wrists up to rub them.

        “What are you gonna do?” I ask suspiciously.

        Valenti takes a deep breath as he folds the handcuffs and shoves them in his pocket. “This guy I know at the Attorney General’s office,” he says, glancing around. “I already put in the call.” He beckons to me, and I automatically take the ammunition belts off, with mild relief, to pass them over.

        I narrow my eyes at him as I do. “You think the government’s going to do something about Pierce? He’s part of it.”

        “He’s not the good part,” Valenti answers right away. “See, we don’t tolerate secret government action in this country. At least, not once the press gets a hold of it.”

        I have to suppress my doubts. “I hope you’re right,” is all that I say.

        “It’s time for this to be over,” he says definitively.

        I shift the weight of the gun in my hands. I have a brief flash in my mind of the pistol waving around the Crashdown café back in September, the one that fired accidentally and hit Liz in the stomach. I remember the blood seeping through her uniform as I ran up to Max, and tried to keep the customers away from his miracle. I feel a shiver down my back.

        “Want me to take that for you?” Valenti asks, and I nod gratefully and hand the gun over. “Nice soldier look you had going on there,” he nods at me.

        “Thanks,” I say skeptically, and glance at the heavy belts now strewn on an empty shelf. “I’m no soldier.”

        “Sure coulda fooled me,” he says helpfully, as he reaches for his belt. “You’ve got the right instincts.”

        “Oh, Kyle’s okay,” I say suddenly, eager to change the subject. “Max went to your house, locked an agent in the closet and told Kyle to stay put.”

        Valenti nods, appreciating this, as he straps his belt back onto his uniform. “Good.”

        I lean my weight against a stack of boxes as I study Kyle Valenti’s dad. He’s been sheriff in this town since I first walked out of that pod chamber into the New Mexico desert, and as long as I can remember, he’s been the authority in town. I always thought I couldn’t trust authority. I heard, just like everybody else, the whispers about his dad’s dealing with space aliens. Only difference was, I knew enough to be afraid of him as a result, rather than look down my nose at him like everybody else. After years of distrust, it’s hard to suddenly turn around and put my faith in the guy.

        “Your foster parents have been calling me,” he says. “Had to shut my phone off.”

        I gulp a little. “Really.”

        “They got two custodial charges missing. Doesn’t make ‘em look real good.”

        I swallow. “Did you… tell them anything?”

        He glances up from adjusting his belt. “Told ‘em you were safe.”

        “You lied to them.”

        Valenti leans back against a shelf and crosses his arms. “You don’t think you’re safe with all this ammunition on your side?” I wonder if that’s his idea of a joke.

        “We’re not safe until Pierce and the Special Unit are shut down for good.”

        “Well, with any luck, that’ll be real soon.”

        We lapse into silence. I pick at my hair, which is rapidly falling down with all this exertion and running around today. I pull a bit of it out in front and peer up at it.

        “How do you think Max is gonna do with that interrogation?” Valenti asks me.

        I shrug. “Isabel’s the one who’s gonna get what we need.” Dreamwalking is on our side. I pause. “What do you think?”

        “I hope it helps,” he says honestly, “but revenge has an odd way of not making you feel one bit better than before.”

        I stare at him. “Then what does help?” I ask seriously.

        “Fixin’ the problem?” he guesses. “All I can say is, if you want to really make yourselves feel better, you’re doing everything you can.”

        We fall silent again. I fold my arms and study the pattern of hairs on my forearm. I wonder if I could change the color of my hair, if I can change my fingerprints… Valenti paces around me.

        “So, this guy, at the Attorney General’s,” I say, breaking the silence. “…Sheriff?”

        “Hm?” he asks, his back still to me.

        “The one you called? Is he coming here, or are you taking Pierce to him?”

        He looks away. “I haven’t decided yet.”

        I stand up and walk over to study his face. “There is no guy. Is there.”

        “If I turn him in,” he says slowly, turning to regard me with a somber expression. “I turn all of you in.”

        I take a moment to process this as Valenti turns away from me again.

        “He kills people, Michael,” Valenti says, and I hear his voice breaking just a little. “It’s what the guy does. He killed Topolsky, and Stevens, and six innocent people in that hospital… and who knows how many others.” He turns abruptly to face me again and raises his voice. “And he was just about to kill all of you.”

        I swallow hard. This isn’t a conversation I want to continue. “That makes twice now you’ve saved our lives.” Or is it three? I squint, trying to do the math.

        “Don’t keep count,” he says immediately. “I do get paid for it after all, Michael, it’s my job.”

        “Yeah, well, same people that are paying you are paying Pierce to try and kill us.”

        “Actually,” he says, scratching his nose. “No. Not exactly. FBI is federal government. I’m county government. Completely different. You took freshman U. S. Government, right? I know Kyle had to.”

        “Um, yeah,” I say, racking my brain. “I, uh, didn’t go much.”

        He smiles slightly. “I should have known.”

        “Hey,” I say defensively. “My grades came up this last period.”

        “Because of the Butlers?” he asks, and I shrug. “Veronica and Toby… they’re real good people, Michael.”

        “Toby works for the FBI,” I say slowly.

        “Not the same part of it,” Valenti says. “Believe me. You can trust him. Wouldn’t trust his coworkers at the office party, but Toby Butler’s a good guy.” I start at that, and wonder just how much Valenti knows about the social circles of my foster parents.

        “I can’t tell him,” I say. “I can’t. Too many people know as it is. You know, Nate knows, Alex and Liz and Maria all know. We weren’t supposed to tell anybody .”

        “Anybody you couldn’t trust,” Valenti corrects me. “You wall off like that, and nobody’ll be there to help you. Where would you and your buddies be right now if you didn’t have all your friends to back you up?”

        “We’d be safe,” I say. “This whole thing is because Max healed Liz. Because you started asking questions. If it wasn’t for that, we’d still be living in plain sight under everybody’s noses, and nobody’d be the wiser for it.”

        He sighs and scratches the back of his head. “I’m truly sorry for my part in that,” he says. “In all of this. But when you act suspiciously, it raises suspicion.”

        “We never wanted any attention at all.”

        “I know,” he says. “But you act like you’ve got something to hide.”

        “We do!”

        “And I realize that. But… when people catch on that you’re hidin’ something, they want to know what it is. It’s human nature.”

        I scowl at the floor. “That’s how Nate found out about it.”

        He raises his eyebrows. “I have to admit, his part in this kinda took me by surprise. You two getting along okay?”

        “That’s really none of your business,” I say, feeling defensive all of a sudden.

        He puts his hands up. “All right,” he says. “All right.”

        “So Pierce,” I say. “You say we can’t get revenge, but we can’t turn him back in. What exactly do you plan on doing?”

Valenti takes a long, labored breath. “Michael.”

“Yeah?”

“How about you just let me worry about that?”

“Because I hate the guy, too,” I say. “I was there, I saw what they did to Max. I stood on the other side of that glass and watched while those… those doctors cut him open. I know they would have done the same thing to me, to Isabel. I want him taken care of. I want to see it happen. I know revenge doesn’t make you feel better, but I want it.”

“Don’t think about it,” he says automatically. A hint of distaste crosses his face, for just a second. And then it’s gone. “Just trust that I will see to it that you never have to worry about him again.” Valenti has perfected that stone wall thing I’m trying for.

        I pause, then nod thoughtfully. “I trust you.”

        The door cracks open. “We got it,” Max says, leaning in.

        “The information?” I ask.

        He nods. “Isabel saw where they took Nasedo’s body.”

        “Body?” I manage to croak out, but Max shakes his head.

        “Tess says we can revive him with the healing stones. We have to get to Hobson, Jeffers Airstrip.” He glances at Valenti.

        “I can get us there,” he says. “I’ve got access.”

        “Let’s go upstairs,” Max says. “Isabel will tell us the rest.”

        He leads us out of the storage area, through the auditorium. I steel my nerves as we pass, staring at Pierce with a stony expression. I want him to see the hate, the disgust that I feel in my bones. I stick close to Max, Valenti following a few steps behind us.

        Pierce is an evil man. I’ve seen some bad people in my life – hell, lived with one up until just over a month ago – but never have I seen anyone so evil , so wicked, to do the things that Pierce has done, to so many innocent people, with so little cause or provocation… this figure sitting helplessly on the stage, blinded by the slide projector, the picture sliding like water over his face…

        ..And out of the corner of my eye, I see it. The movement from Pierce, the arms branching out like a bird, coming around to meet in front of him, and the rush from Valenti.

        In the back of my mind, I hear Valenti screaming at us to duck as his arms close around us, my body crashes against Max’s, bringing him with me, and we fall to the floor at Valenti’s insistence.

        From behind the storage shelf, we hear gunshots whiz into the air. From which direction? Max and I whip our heads around, trying to gain a hold on the situation from our position. My knee is in his stomach, and I move it as I glance around to make sure our position is safe. I see a bullet lying inches away, and I know immediately that Pierce’s hands are holding a gun indeed. I pick myself up off of Max, who looks slightly stunned, and can see Valenti emptying a round in Pierce’s direction. I peer around the shelf as Valenti stops firing. He’s out of bullets.

        Where the hell is Pierce? Is he down yet?

        Valenti fumbles with his cartridge, trying quickly to load again. My hands clench up. My danger sensors are going off big-time. Max is still flat on the floor, peering at me, and I shove him back down forcefully.

        A figure comes around the corner. Pierce, his gun raised, has seen Valenti’s situation and is taking the opportunity to aim a well-placed shot in our direction. I see the fear that crosses Valenti’s face.

        Valenti saved our lives.

        And we’re not getting out of here without him.

        Pierce… I know what Pierce is…

        …He’s dead.

        “No!” I scream, leaping to my feet, and my hand flies out instinctively. I know how to do this now. Everything in the room is crackling with sensation. I feel Max rising to his feet beside me, Valenti tensing on my other side, ready to run.

        It takes a moment to charge. The energy pulses through my body, alert, responsive. I feel the power rising through me, from deep within, charging down my arm.

        And in a sudden burst of bright light, even brighter than the light that shone at the car, the energy pulses out of me. I know why it’s brighter. It’s brighter because it’s stronger. It’s stronger because it’s the strongest thing I’ve… I’ve ever done .

        The energy zips across the room, blinding us all, but most of all Pierce. In the moment that the energy hits him, I feel a sudden, brief connection with him. I feel his fear. I feel his horror as he briefly recognizes his fate. I feel his pain, as the preliminary burst hits him, burning him, electrifying him, charring him somewhere deep down that doesn’t even show.

        And it feels damn good.

        Then, he feels nothing, because he’s knocked backward, lifeless, against the screen, which clatters to the ground.

        As the energy dissipates, the room still crackling, I blink and lower my hand.

        I feel Max staring at me, but I can’t take my eyes off the lifeless body across the room. Valenti starts for it, Max right on his heels.

        After a moment, I fall in behind them, even though I already know.

        Reality sets in as I move. No. No, I couldn’t have. I’m not capable, I’m not bad , I’m not…

        I hear the sound of footsteps, and the rest of the gang comes running in to see what happened.

        Valenti reaches Pierce, his gun still drawn, and crouches to feel for a pulse. He knocks Pierce’s gun away before touching his dead skin. I wonder if it feels like the dead agent back at the military base. Cold, clammy, stiff…

        “Dead,” Valenti announces, and I glance around, stunned, even though part of me already knew it. I turn away from Max and Isabel, who somehow has come up beside me, to walk back to the shelves.

        Dead.

        “It’s one of mine,” I hear Valenti saying, but I don’t really care what he’s talking about. Dead. Nasedo was a killer, I’m a killer.

        He kills people, Michael… it’s what the guy does.

        I kill people.

        It’s what I was meant to do.

Chapter 82

        I stare down blankly at the dusty book covers on the shelves. My hand is still tingling. How much power do I have? Is that the extent of it? What if I tried to blow up the whole museum, the whole town? Would it happen just like that, without thinking?

        Without thinking. Because I didn’t think. It just happened. My mind doesn’t work when these things come over me. I’m running on pure emotion. My emotions are taking on physical form, that’s what it is. Emotions are my weakness? No. Not at all.

        Emotions are my strength .

        My emotions are controlling me. They’re killing for me, breaking cars for me, leading me.

But I don’t have control over them in the least.

        “No, no, no,” I hear Valenti saying, but it doesn’t process until he blurts out, “Kyle!”

        I take a moment to process the events of the last few moments, what’s been happening since the radiation from my hand cleared. One of mine… Kyle… I turn slowly, afraid of what I’ll see.

        “Oh, geez, no! Kyle!” I stare at the sight with a numb horror. Valenti is cradling his son’s body, as Kyle Valenti, blood seeping out from the gunshot wound on his chest, inflicted by his father, stares in shock at the faces of his classmates. He doesn’t know what’s hit him as he gasps for his last breaths.

        “Help… help me – somebody help me!” Valenti cries out to us. He buries his face over that of his son, turning his tears away from us, and moans out.

        I turn away, unable to face the sight. Pierce’s dead body is bad enough. But Kyle Valenti… Kyle from my second grade class… Kyle from the basketball team… jackass or not, I’ve seen enough death and destruction already this weekend to last me more than the rest of my life. I don’t need to see a man and his dying son right now. I don’t need it.

        But I have to look, out of the corner of my eye. At Liz, clasping her hand to her mouth. That’s right, Kyle was her first boyfriend. At Max, standing there with a steely expression.

        Max.

        I turn around. I want to be able to do what Max can do, but I can’t. Max instinctively knows how to heal people, I instinctively know how to blast. We’re inherently different. For some reason, we’re made differently.

        I clutch the cold steel of the shelves, staring away. I can’t look. I can’t feel, I can’t risk exploding again. When I feel too much, I react. And to see Kyle there… to know it’s partly my fault… to make my death tally three just for this weekend, and I’m just starting…

        I’m a killer, I’m a cold-blooded killer. And I can’t stop myself.

        And I can’t look at Kyle.

        “Save my son,” Valenti cries out. “Please.”

        Max steps forward after a moment, to do what I could never do, and slowly crosses the room to where Kyle is gasping for breath. As I turn around to stare over my shoulder, Valenti gratefully moves aside, covering his mouth. He looks at Max with the stare one gives to a god, a saint, a hero. Because Max is all those things when he does what he’s about to do. He crouches down over the body and lowers his hand carefully, determinedly, to Kyle’s bleeding wound. He fixes his gaze on Kyle’s face, focusing, and after a moment, a glow emanates from beneath his hand, reflecting off his face. It’s similar to the glow from my hand, but the glow from my hand destroys, and the glow from Max’s hand restores.

        There’s a long, long, endless moment as we wait. I wonder briefly if Max’s trick will always work. What if Kyle’s already dead? But no, after a moment, Kyle coughs, and I see Max stirring in response.

        The glow fades away, and Max lifts his trembling hand from Kyle’s chest. This time, the bastard’s even gone and fixed all the blood. Where only moments before was a fatal gunshot wound, now we can only see a tiny hole in the fabric of Kyle’s t-shirt. Mas stares at his hand, as if he himself doesn’t understand the power it holds.

        Max, exhausted by the effort, leans back into his crouch. And Kyle stares down at the hole in his shirt, then back up at Max.

        “What the hell just happened to me?” Kyle asks.

        Max remains silent, but stares up at Valenti, who I notice suddenly has light reflecting off his face. Tears. “I don’t care who you are… or what you are… I’ll be here for you,” Valenti says with an assured nod. He lets the words hang in the air for a moment. “I need a moment with my son,” he says.

        Max pushes back to his feet and walks slowly towards us, but I look away as he approaches. I can’t look him in the eye right now…

        He walks directly up to me. “You were just trying to stop him,” he says quietly in my ear. “I know you didn’t mean to kill him.”

        I shake my head. “No, that’s just it,” I say, and I hear the hoarseness in my own voice. “I wanted to kill him. I mean… that’s all I could think about, I wanted him dead. And knowing that, I just did it. It just happened.” I stare at him for a moment, at Max’s impassionate face, before staring back through the shelves. “What kind of person does that make me?”

        “We would have been dead if you didn’t help us,” he says in a whisper.

        “You know the bottom line, Maxwell?” I burst out. “I kill people.” My voice drops to a whisper, as I say it again, trying the words out on my mouth. “I kill people. You heal ‘em. You’re good, and I’m bad.”

        “That’s not true, Michael,” he says quietly, solidly, and I sense motion behind us. I turn around to see the last thing I want to see right now, with straight soft blond hair…

        “Just get out of here,” I say. I drag myself around the shelf to start walking away

        “What are you talking about?” she asks as she follows me.

        “It’s not safe,” I say to her, breathlessly.

        “It’s never been safe, what difference does it make now?”

        “No, I’m not safe,” I argue. “All right? I mean, I can do these things that I can’t control, look what I did to Pierce. I don’t want to take that chance with you, I don’t want you to be around for what’s going to happen.”

        “Wait!” she protests, grabbing my arms. “Don’t do this to me now. Please, Michael. I mean, you need me now more than you have before, all right?”

        “No, I don’t need anyone.” I start off, but she’s not taking no for an answer.

        “Well,” she says, following me again. “Maybe I do! Did you ever think of that?” I lick my lips as I study her. Her expression is desperate. “I mean, look. Max and Liz,” she says, throwing her arm in their direction. “They can’t bear to be separated.” I bite my lip as I glance over. Perfect Max. Good Max. The Healer. The Lover. “But you, you can just… throw me away, just like that. Why is that, Michael, why?”

        I stare at her open, angry mouth, still shiny from lip gloss. Her dark-framed green eyes, the light soft skin of her neck… It’s too good for me. It’s not safe around me. I don’t want to see that skin bruised, I don’t want to see those eyes hurt… Hurting the way they are now, but no, even more… This is the easiest way to do it. “Maybe because I love you too much,” I say dismissively.

        For some reason, these words shock her, her expression softens from one of defensiveness to one of confusion.

        I move forward, instinctively, and clasp my hand firmly on her shoulder.

        She steps forward as well, her eyes meeting mine. These silent gazes of ours…

        Her eyes flutter halfway closed, an invitation which I eagerly accept, bending my mouth down to meet hers. Our lips crush each other in a wave of heat and electricity. My eyes squeeze shut, enjoying the sensation that is the mouth of Maria, my hands clasping her ass as she presses close to me…

        We sink to the floor, melting in to each other. A perfect union of body and soul, flesh and desire… My Maria. The one who cared for me, who saved me. The one who let me in from the heat, let me in from the rain. I’ve survived because of Maria. I’ve found my place because of Maria, the only problem is it’s not my place… it’s not my home… it’s not for me…I can still smell the burnt flesh in the room, and next time it could be hers… no…

        “Goodbye,” I whisper, startling myself out of it.

        Before she can say anything, before I can stop myself, I turn and start moving my legs, pulling myself out of the museum.

        Go back to her, you fuckin’ idiot…

        Great, I’m hearing voices now. I storm up the stairs and out onto the street.

        It’s over.

        The bright light assaults my eyes. I didn’t realize it was still daylight. The sun is shining at me from over the Crashdown.

        I squint and turn, facing the wall of the museum. Goodbye. I said it. I meant it.

        I’ve lived ten years. It’s not a long time. It’s a lot shorter than it seems, and I remember every bit of it. I remember things I wish I didn’t remember, I remember things I wish to hell I could forget, or erase, or wipe away. And in ten years, I’ve never had to do anything so hard.

        I raise my fists and bang them into the bricks. Nothing happens except for pain shooting through my arms, which is really okay with me. I want the pain right now. I want to hurt, I want to feel, I want something other than this numbness that I feel. I bang my fists again, and I feel my skin splitting against the brick. I yank my fists down and study the side of my hands. They’re red all over with the welts of blood. Stinging. Something else to think about besides what I just said… you piece of shit…

        “Michael!”

        I whirl around to see Tess and Isabel standing there. Isabel’s jaw drops visibly at the sight of me. I immediately jerk my hands behind my back, out of sight.

        “What are you doing here?” I ask.

        “We’re going to rescue Nasedo now,” Tess says, still staring at my arms. I turn around defensively.

        Nasedo, right… “I’ll meet you guys at the car in a minute,” I mutter.

        “What-?” I hear Tess ask inquisitively from behind me, but Isabel cuts her off.

        “Leave him alone,” Isabel says clearly, and for that I’m grateful.

        “What is he doing?” Tess asks.

        I pull my hands between me and the wall, so that they can’t see, and fight for breath that’s not coming.

        “Don’t worry about it,” Isabel says, and as she says so, I hear her voice turn away from me and start towards the car. “Michael needs to be alone right now…” It’s a low whisper, but not low enough that I can’t hear.

        Already, the pain is going away. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to distract me from the thought that I know I can’t have Maria. That I can’t ever again touch her, or talk to her, or even think about her, because it would mean giving in to these feelings that I can’t resist… I have to erase her from my mind, erase her from my memory-

The only problem is that I don’t forget anything.

        “Hey.”

        I close my eyes and lean towards the building. “Go away, Maxwell.”

        “I am. We. We’re going. To rescue Nasedo. You’re coming with us.”

        “I said I’ll be there in a minute!” I turn around and see him standing there with Liz, who gasps audibly as she catches sight of my hands.

        I turn back around quickly. “Liz, I’ll meet you at the car,” Max says, and I hear the hesitation, and then her jogging footsteps as she hurries to catch up with Tess and Isabel.

        Max approaches me from behind. “Don’t do this.”

        “I’m gonna do whatever I fuckin’ want right now.”       

        There’s an audible sigh from behind me. “Fine, just… just let me heal that for you before we go.”

        I turn around at last, trying to regain my composure. “You still got the energy for it after what you just did with Kyle back there?”

        “I guess we’ll see,” Max says, offering out his hand gently.

        I hesitate, staring at his hand. “I don’t need this.”

        “I know you love her, Michael.”

        “You don’t know anything! Anything at all!” I explode at him.

        “You’re right, I don’t,” he says quickly. “I just know that your hands look pretty bad there.”

        I stare at the reddening scrapes on the side of my fists. They’ve begun to sting sharply from the dusty desert air of Roswell New Mexico. How much longer are Max and I gonna be stuck here? Stuck here together? Alone?

        Slowly, I extend my arms, and Max steps forward. His forehead furrows as he leans over my arm, and as his hands glow over my fists, I catch a brief glimpse of Kyle Valenti playing Pop Warner football. It’s enough to yank me out of my spiraling thoughts and stare up at Max in surprise. These past few minutes meant something… meant a lot of things… my mind starts to grasp at the importance of what’s happening around us. Not Maria. Forget Maria.

        “We need you for this, Michael,” he says, leveling a steady gaze on me.

        “I’m here,” I say clearly. I’m a soldier. No emotions. Just focus. “Where are we going?” I rub my hands, which are back to normal now. My heart is pounding.

        “The air strip,” he says. “Valenti gave me directions, and Tess knows what to do. We need the healing stones, though.”

        “Where are they?” I ask, all business.

        “At my house.”

        I wince. “What’s your mom gonna say about you being missing for so long?”

        “My mom?” Max asks. “I’m not really all that worried about my mom. I’m more worried about yours.”

        I shoot him what I hope is a disparaging look. “I don’t have one.”

        “You know what I meant.”

        “I could go ask-,” I say, turning to the museum, but then I stop. Nate’s still in there with... “Never mind. I’ll find out eventually.”

        “We could stop by your house on the way.”

        I shake my head vehemently. “No. We need to get to Nasedo fast, before they do anything to the body that we can’t reverse. We’re gonna get the stones, and we’re gonna go get Nasedo.”

        Max nods, and the two of us set off towards the Jeep.

        The girls are all three giving me funny looks, but different ones, as I climb into the front seat with Max. Isabel looks concerned, Liz looks nervous, and Tess looks… Tess just looks impatient.

Oddly enough, of all three of them, it’s Tess who I find the least disconcerting. I’m done, I’m through. I’m ready to go find Nasedo.

Chapter 83

        “Max! There you are, honey! Uh - where have you been?”

        Max grins nervously as his mother comes around the corner into his bedroom. “Hi, Mom.”

        “Hi, Michael,” Diane Evans says in the direction of the closet, where I’m rifling through Max’s dress clothes. I’ve tried to sink behind the door out of sight, but no luck.

        “Didn’t you get the message from Isabel, Mom?” Max asks innocently. “I went camping by myself. Needed to be alone for awhile.”

        She frowns. “Isabel did say that,” she says. “Still, it would have been nice to hear it from you. Did you have a nice time?”

        “Had a great time,” he says with ease, and I marvel at his lying ability, carefully honed. I brush my hands along one dark suit and check the size inside. It looks like it would fit me okay. Max and I have always worn similar sizes. Maybe all alien men are this size… but Nasedo isn’t…

        “What have you been up to this weekend, Michael?” she asks carefully, and her tone turns my blood to ice.

        “Oh, just hangin’ out,” I say dismissively.

        “I talked to Veronica Butler yesterday afternoon,” she says. She lowers her voice. “Have you… talked to her?”

        “What? Oh. Um, I’m going to. Later.”

        I glance over at Max, who’s looking at me expectantly.

        “Michael, is everything okay?” Diane asks, worried. “I mean, I know you don’t want to talk to me about it. But just… is everything okay between you and the Butlers?”

        Well, it was more or less okay before this weekend. Now? I have no fucking idea.

        “Yeah, yeah, it’s just…” I shrug and try to cover my interest in Max’s closet by fingering the door. “I needed some time alone, too.”

        “Oh,” she says, and I see a quick look of confusion flit across her face as she glances back and forth between me and Max. “Well. Okay, then.”

        I release a breath as the door to Max’s room closes, and I grab the hanger with the suit out of the closet and toss it on the bed. “That was too close. She’s suspicious.”

        “Maybe we should at least check in with the Butlers before we go out to Jeffers,” Max says doubtfully. “The way Mom was talking…”

        “No way, you said it, we’re in a hurry,” I say. “Think I’ll look like Agent Fields in this?”

        “How am I supposed to know what Agent Fields looks like?”

        “Dumbass, I’m Agent Fields for all they know. Does this look like an FBI suit or not?” I snatch the suit from the bed and hold it against my chest for perusal.

        “Works for me,” Max says, and I drop the suit back on the bed before yanking the jacket over my t-shirt. I would have worn Nasedo’s jacket, but I left it back at the mine. I didn’t want to have anything to do with it. I still don’t, I’d much rather just borrow Max’s suit.

        I fiddle with the buttons as Max reaches under his bed and drags out the box with the healing stones in it. I walk over to him as I fasten the buttons, staring as the stones emerge.

        I let out a small gasp out of habit at the first sight of them. Max catches it and smiles wryly.

        “When this is all over, and we have Nasedo back with us,” he says, “I think we’re gonna find out a lot more about home.”

        “I sure as hell hope so,” I say.

        “Me, too,” Max admits as he wraps the stones in his bath towel and shoves them in his backpack. “I’m ready to know more. Being in there with Pierce, realizing that I didn’t know anything at all about my own species… that he knew more than I did about what I’m made of and what I can do… it was scary.” He casually slips his backpack onto his back.

        I swallow as I listen to his words. I’m sure that wasn’t the scariest part, but I don’t want to say anything, I don’t want to force any information from Max that he’s not willing to give.

        “I don’t know about Nasedo,” I say doubtfully. “He’s not… he’s not what I thought he would be.”

        “You had some pretty high hopes there,” Max points out as he crosses the room to his dresser and starts digging through his ties.

        “Yeah, whatever.”

        “I mean it. Who could live up to that?” He pulls out one and tosses it to me.

“Well, you try getting information out of him and see if you have any luck,” I say. I fasten the tie around my neck. “The guy’s a fuckin’ ice statue. Hey, you got a comb I could borrow?”

Max grins and goes for the comb as the door opens and Tess and Isabel burst in.

“Are you guys ready?” Tess asks impatiently.

“Almost,” I gripe at her, catching the comb from Max and leaning over to his mirror.

“Do your hair in the car!” she snaps, and we all stare at her, shocked into silence for once.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say obligingly once the shock has worn off, and we follow her out the door and back to the Jeep where Liz is waiting with the engine idling.

        Liz gives me a funny look as we climb back into the Jeep, me squeezed in the back beside Tess, with Isabel on the other side.

Tess, for her part, is running her fingers through her hair nervously, biting her fingernails periodically, and glancing anxiously behind the Jeep at every opportunity.

“I thought you mindwarped them into going to Hondo,” I say. “Who would be following us?”

        “You never know,” she says tightly. “You’re not used to being on your guard the way that Nasedo and I are.”

        “Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask in disbelief. “At least you had Nasedo. I’ve been on my guard for years. Lived in shitty homes, never had a real family, didn’t know crap about where we’re from or why we’re here.”

        “You’ve got a lot to learn.”

        “So teach me,” I say seriously.

She turns to me, a look of interest finally crossing her face. “You mean that.”
       
“I do. I want to know.”

Tess takes a deep breath and nods. “I can help you with that,” she says seriously.

“Let’s focus on now for now,” Max says, twisting around in the front seat.

“Right,” Tess says, chewing her nails again. “Now.”

“There’s the air strip,” Isabel says, leaning forward and pointing between us.

“Tess, Liz, you stay with the Jeep,” Max says.

“But this is Nasedo ,” Tess says. “What if you need my help?”

        “This is just a rescue operation,” Max says firmly. “We need Michael for a distraction, since they think he’s Agent Fields, and Isabel and I are taking them out with force. You told me yourself you can’t mindwarp right now.”

“N-no,” Tess admits, casting her gaze downward.

“After what you did this morning, you need time to rest. Leave it to us and stay here with the Jeep.”

I watch as the words volley back and forth between them. Tess starts to protest, but after a moment she clamps her jaw and nods reluctantly. Liz, for her part, watches wide-eyed, silently. I feel for her for just a moment, but then I remember where Maria is, and I don’t feel quite so bad for Liz.

“That’s the car I saw,” Isabel says definitively, pointing across the meadow from our secluded spot in the woods as the three of us prepare our rescue attempt. I squint against the sun, making out the armored security van. Jesus Christ, these people will go to measures over our species. I feel like spiders are running all up and down my spine. My fingers close around the rock I’m secluded behind.

        “Then a little old-fashioned team effort ought to clear it,” Max says. “Look, they’re on the same side of the van. We can sneak up on the driver’s side without them seeing. How about if Michael distracts them, and Isabel and I can disable them once we have the element of surprise?”

I push to my feet. We’re almost done. I feel like the end is so close.

It’s only a few moments later that I emerge a few yards away from the security van. I am an FBI agent. I am cool and collected, I am supposed to be here. I have to remind myself that. “Hey!” I shout boldly. “Over here.” I incline my head, beckoning the guards, sending only a casual nod to Isabel to prepare her.

The first guard approaches me, and is stunned as Isabel blasts him in the stomach with a two-by-four, then socks him over the head as he doubles over in pain. Go Izzy… I manage to keep my reaction to myself. The guy drops to the ground with the second impact, as Isabel stands back up to catch her breath.

“Hey! What’s goin’ on?” The second guard comes around the side of the truck, his gun ready to fire, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek. Not again. No more guns, no more bullets, please god, no more gunshots.

I hold my hands up in self-defense, ready to blast if need be. If need be. I’m a soldier, and if I have to kill again, I will. But before I can do anything, Max knocks him from behind, the guy’s on the ground, and I lurch into motion, diving across the lawn to the truck.

Max already has the door open by the time I get there, and I drag myself into the van, Isabel behind me, and stop dead at the sight of the body laid out on a stretcher.

“It’s him, Nasedo,” Isabel says, her voice shaking only a little as I help her up. “Let’s go.”

        Once she’s in the van, I briefly run my hands over his body. He’s still wearing the last face I saw on him, that of the dead agent he killed.

I’ve seen this body dead twice now. Cold and dead.

Cold as ice. Colder than Pierce’s body? No, Pierce’s body wasn’t cold, it was hot. It was hot as coals, from the burning force I executed upon it. I executed an execution. I know Pierce’s body was hot, without having touched it, because I could feel it from across the room. But if the dead agent’s body cooled down, then surely Pierce’s body cooled down, too, after a time? Nasedo’s body seems to emanate an unusual chill, though, in the warm springtime air. As if it’s sucking the heat out all around it.

I pull my hand back, surprised, and lurch through the van into the driver’s seat. “Assholes left the keys in for us,” I say, surprised.

“Even better,” Max says, setting his hand back down at the sign that his powers aren’t needed. “Let’s get out of here.”

        He doesn’t need to tell me twice. I turn the van on and we rumble away from the air strip as quickly as possible, to the safety of the pod chamber and our alien refuge.

        The sight of the cliff towering above the desert horizon takes my breath away. Home. How could I have missed its magnificence the first time I emerged from it, a decade ago? How could it have been here the whole time and I never saw it? It’s like a beacon, an arrow, pointing the way home. And the way home depends on the body that Max and I are lugging between us over the rocks, towards the entrance of the pod chamber.

        Tess scrambles ahead, leading the way, while Isabel and Liz hang back. I overhear them whispering, but nothing reaches my ears besides the sibilant sounds of their voices, and instead, I focus on the ice cold legs clutched in my hands as I help Max over the rocks.

        Tess reaches the pod chamber first and palms her way in, standing by the door anxiously as Max and I bear Nasedo’s body inside. We arrange him – it? – on the floor, and gather around as Liz unzips the backpack, the scratchy sound of the zipper echoing loudly inside the cavern.

She holds out the healing stones, and each of us solemnly approaches her in turn to take our places.

Chapter 84

        I stare at the stone I hold in my hand as I crouch down beside the body, joining the others as we make a ring around him. The stone does still feel slightly warm to the touch, alive, unlike the chilly figure before us. How could I have brought such a thing into the Butler house? If Nate hadn’t found it, he would never have… but I can’t think like that right now. This, this stone, this cavern, these people, this ritual – this is my home. This is who I am. I am alien. Alien to this world, alien to myself.

        We all gather silently around the body, holding the stones, watching. But nothing. Tess’s face appears only slightly nonplussed.

        “Are you sure this is him?” Isabel finally asks me.

        “This is who he was last time I saw him,” I confirm. And I doubt anybody would have taken so many precautions with the body of the identical agent that Nasedo killed, after all.

        I glance up at Tess’s face. Her eyes are closed, her lips moving slowly. I squint at her for a moment, wondering, but then close my own eyes to focus. Focus. I can do these things that I want to do, I just have to focus …

        And then the stone grows even warmer in my hand, and I feel it. I feel the energy, I feel the connection to the Balance that I made the first time these stones were gathered around my body.

        A low humming fills the cavern, and I open my eyes to see Nasedo’s entire body emitting an otherworldly glow. Otherworldly indeed. But I stay calm, keep my focus. It’s working. He’s coming back to us. We’re not alone.

        His body suddenly starts to shift before our eyes, and beneath the body of the agent I can see the familiar form of a grey alien, large dark eyes, skinny grey body, tiny nose. It almost looks like a stolen dummy from the UFO Center, but I know it’s real this time. Do I have that body down inside? Nasedo said we were different. I’ve never had any indication that my body held anything other than what I see every day…

        The form continues to shift. Ed Harding, the dead FBI agent, the grey alien. All one and the same. This sense, that this person before us can take on so many forms, it’s disconcerting. I wonder briefly if that’s possible. I shouldn’t be unnerved. This is natural for my people, whoever they are. It’s only here on Earth that these kinds of things freak people out… right?

        Then just as suddenly as it started, the glow dissipates, and Ed Harding sits straight up, glancing around. I startle backwards just a little, surprised.

        Tess is the first one to regain her senses and speak. “I knew you wouldn’t leave us,” she says, with more than a hint of relief.

        “You’re not ready to be left alone,” he answers immediately, and Tess bites her lip, crestfallen.

        I don’t think I like this guy.

        But he has a point.

        “You’re right,” I say, as he stands, and I stand with him. “We need you.” He walks up to me, studying me up and down. “Show us how the orbs work,” I say.

        He glances over my shoulder. “She doesn’t belong here,” Nasedo says, pointing, and I know he’s not talking about Tess or Isabel.

        “She’s with me,” Max says sharply, staring him down. “We wanna know. You’re the only one who can show us.”

        “It’s not my job to show you,” Nasedo answers, as coolly as ever. “My only job is to keep you alive.” He gives us almost a sad smile, the first true emotion I think I’ve seen from him… so far.

        “Your job?” Max echoes.

        “Well, then if your only job is to keep us alive, then tell us,” I say. I’m starting to feel a little impatient. “They’re communicators, they communicate with who ?”

        “You’re not ready to know yet,” he says firmly, and I gaze at him with disgust.

        “They communicate with our home planet, don’t they?” I ask. “Why don’t you want us to contact them?”

        “Because you don’t know who else you may contact in the process,” he says desperately.

        This is enough to shock us all into silence again.

        “Who …else is there?” Isabel finally asks cautiously, breaking the silence.

        “Set off those orbs and you have no idea who you may be leading straight to us,” Nasedo says urgently, finally walking away from me to address Isabel. He circles around her and starts to walk away.

        “You don’t know, do you?” Max asks softly, and Nasedo stops dead in his tracks. “You don’t know how to use the orbs.”

        Nasedo turns halfway around.

        “If you knew, you’d have already used them,” Max says, continuing with his guess. “You’re here to protect us but not to lead us, you said that yourself. But if you’re not the leader, who is?”

        Nasedo turns abruptly at that, all the way, shooting Max a dead-on look. It registers after a moment, and I turn to find Isabel already staring at Max, as the same thought occurs to all three of us. Of course. It makes fucking perfect sense.

        The realization hits Max, and his eyes go big for just a moment before he turns around to Liz, who’s still standing there in shock.

        “If you really want to know what the orbs do, you can find out for yourselves, I can’t stop you,” Nasedo warns. “But do it at your own risk .”

        “If you’re really here to protect us, there’s something you have to do,” Max says firmly, his chin tilting up slightly as he takes on the authority. “The only way we can ever go back is if nobody’s hunting us anymore.”

        Isabel and I exchange a glance. “Pierce is already dead,” I say slowly, and the words still hurt a little coming out. I took care of that one for us.

        “He’ll only be replaced,” Max says quietly. He glances at us, waiting for us to put the pieces together. “Unless we replace them,” he finishes.

        Nasedo gives a wry smile and then, as we all watch, he raises his hand. The cavern is filled once again with the bright flash, and we all turn away, blinded. When we turn back, I feel a shock of rippling gooseflesh on my arms; there standing before us is my victim, my prey, Agent Pierce.

        Pierce – Nasedo – blinks as he glances around. I stare at him intently, not wanting to blink away. “The other agents are at an abandoned gas station in Hondo,” Max explains coolly.

        “Now that I’m the head of their Special Unit, we’ll have all their resources,” Nasedo says confidently. For the first time, he seems to actually be enjoying what we’re doing.

        He starts out of the cavern, but stops in front of Tess and turns to face us all. “You’ll be safe now,” he assures us, before ducking out of the cave.

        Safe… so what does that mean in relation to the orbs?

        Max crosses to pick one orb up from the ledge, and looks at us solemnly. “I want to know,” he says. I reach for the other. “Maybe if we just focus, like Nasedo’s always saying,” Max suggests.

        Max holds his orb with Tess, and Isabel takes hold of mine along with me. Two pairs. An odd sort of balance. I close my eyes, feeling the power, the energy, welling up deep inside.

        The answers. The communicators. Nasedo wasn’t my father, but maybe my father is on the other side of this communicator, waiting for me to call him. Or my mother, or my sister… Wondering whatever happened to their baby, not giving up hope of hearing from him again… anxiously awaiting this very moment…

        Light strikes my eyes, and I open them to see beams of light emanating from the symbol on the orbs. Around us, the hum in the chamber has returned.

        As we all watch breathlessly, the light beams converge on the ceiling and grow brighter, until suddenly a form appears from the brightness. Glowing. Angelic.

        And very human.

        I stare at her, puzzled.

        But awed.

        “If you are seeing me now, it means that you are alive and well,” she says in a clear voice. My heart skips a beat. They knew. We’re not lost. They knew we were here. “I take this form because it will be familiar to you.” Familiar. Our people don’t look like that. But she knew what life forms on this planet look like. I hang on to every word eagerly. “And it will help you to understand what I am about to say. You,” she says clearly, slowly, “have lived… before.”

        I’m only barely aware of my jaw dropping.

“You perished in the conflict that enslaves our planet, but your… essence was duplicated.” I manage to close my jaw, setting it firmly. Death. No wonder I’ve never been afraid of it, I’ve been there. And come back. This is too much… “Cloned,” she continues, “and mixed with human genetic material so that you might be recreated into human beings.”

        The truth. It somehow makes an ironic sense. All of this, and I’m only human after all.

        But something more.

        “My son,” she says. I stare at her, but she’s not looking at me. I am not her son. “You were the beloved leader of our people.” I turn to Max, surprised. “I have sent with you your young bride.” Tess. “My daughter,” Isabel, “the man you were betrothed to, and your brother’s second-in-command.”

        Second. I’m second. Max is the leader, I’m the second. I’m the last. What does that make them? Royalty? Am I the soldier? It somehow makes sense, in a fucking cosmic sense of irony. I get it now.

        “Oh my god, Max,” Isabel whispers, “Our mother.”

        Your mother. Your mother . Isabel and Max’s mother makes cookies for the bake sale, cleans their room every other day, packs them bag lunches, takes them shopping. They don’t deserve another one. I’m the one who needs this, I’m the one who’s alone. And it’s not just in this lifetime.

        “Our enemies have come to the Earth,” the glowing mother says, and I jerk myself back into reality with the recognition that this doesn’t sound good. “You will know them only by the evil within.” Great. Lotta help that is. “Learn enough to use your skills, your knowledge, your leadership to combat the enemy so that you can come back.” She smiles. “And free us. And that I may once again hold you both in my arms.”

        Both. Not me. Both of them. Both of them, who had everything fucking handed to them on a platter, and here’s good old killer Michael, second in command, good for nothing alien…

        “I live for that moment,” she says. “Help us.” She pauses, staring into the empty space where she knew we would be. “I love you.”

        As the figure fades away, I glance over at Isabel, whose eyes are tearing up. “She’s beautiful,” she says softly to Max.

        We all turn to watch the last remnants of brilliant light vanish.

        In the now-dim light of the pod chamber, the five of us all fall silent for a long moment. I can’t make myself be jealous after what I just found out. I do have a destiny, I do have a purpose. My life isn’t just some wasted time spent on the wrong planet. I’m someone’s last hope. Lives are depending on me… people somewhere are depending on me. My family?

        “I always knew there was somethin’ out there, but I didn’t know how important it was,” I say softly, staring at the empty space.

        “Things will never be the same,” Max mumbles, “but whatever happens, we have to stay together.” He turns to Tess. “It’s the four of us now.”

        Tess presses up against him. “I knew this was meant to be,” she says, but he puts his hands on his shoulders. For a moment I’m afraid the bastard’s going to kiss her in front of Liz, but he pushes her away.

        “No,” he say, and follows Liz, who’s already on her way out of the pod chamber. He grabs her arm. “Look, everything I told you before is still true.”

        “Max, you do have a destiny,” Liz says, staring up at him, and I’m all of a sudden glad that I got this out of the way with Maria already. I don’t envy Max at all. “You just heard it, I can’t stand in the way of it.”

        His face crumples a little as he stares back at her. “But you mean everything to me,” he says. I can already tell this ain’t gonna be easy.

        Liz closes her eyes and stands up on her toes, brushing up gently for one last kiss. I stare down at the ground, to give them privacy.

        “Bye, Max,” Liz says softly.

        After a moment, she collects herself and turns to dart out of the cavern. Max watches her go, shellshocked.

        “Liz,” he says after a moment, watching her retreat. “Liz!” He follows her.

        I turn to Isabel, who throws her hands up, helplessly. “I got him,” I assure her, then level my finger at Tess. “You,” I say firmly. “Stay out of this for now.” She starts to protest, but Isabel shakes her head, and I scramble after Max and Liz.

        They’re standing just outside the pod chamber, staring at each other. Liz looks like she’s about to cry, and I have to say the same for Max. I approach his side, carefully, studying him. Our leader.

        After a moment, he starts, as if to follow her, and I grab his arm, clasping it firmly.

        “You gotta let her go,” I say softly, sadly. I know what he’s going through. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. After a moment, as I feel his muscles tensing, locking him in place, I let go. Together, we watch as Liz, hair blowing in her face, darts across the rocks, running as fast as she can, away from us, away from the aliens, back to her normal life of waitressing, and high school, and college applications, and family… Back to humanity…

        But she doesn’t look all that happy to be going.

        I sense Isabel and Tess behind us, Isabel at my side, Max at Tess’s. Is this how we’re supposed to be? Is this right?

        “What happens now, Max?” Tess asks, turning to him.

        But Max is speechless.

        I stare across the desert, conscious as I do of the three figures at my side. Four teenagers, stuck here, out of place, out of time. How can we be messiahs to a whole other world? Me, who can barely get passing grades? Isabel, with her nail polish and body lotions? Max, who can’t keep a secret; Tess, who couldn’t tell us the truth?

        Max is still staring off in the direction in which Liz disappeared.

        Now, we have to start preparing.

Chapter 85

        We trudge back towards the Jeep and the security van in silence.

        Max breaks the silence as the two vehicles come into view, silhouetted on the horizon. The familiar Jeep, and the strange, frightening armored truck. “We’ve got to get rid of that van,” he says.

        “Michael can do it,” Tess says, turning to me.

        “What?” I ask. “What do you mean?”

        “Like you did at the museum,” she says softly. “Just… blast it. You can destroy it. Try.” She smiles, encouraging me.

        “No,” I say, my voice shaking just a little. I back away. “No way. I’m not doing that again today.” No more destruction…

        Tess turns to Max helplessly.

        “We can drive it back to the air strip,” he says. “Or drop it off somewhere else. But we can’t just leave it here, right by the pod chamber.”

        I turn to them quietly. “You guys take it back,” I say. “Get rid of it…”

        “What are you doing?” Max asks.

        “I’m just gonna stay here awhile.” I jerk my thumb towards the pod chamber.

        “Michael,” Isabel says doubtfully, stepping towards me, “how are you getting back to town?”

        “I’ll hitch,” I say casually. “I’ve done it before,” I say, cutting off her protest.

        “You need to get back and check in with your foster parents,” Max says. I glance at Isabel’s watch. It’s 4:38 in the afternoon. It’s been a long day.

        It’s been a long…

        “They’ve waited for me this long,” I say, dismissively. “They can wait a few more hours.”

        “You’re going to be kicked out,” Isabel accuses me.

        “Yeah, I know,” I say. “I am. So what does it matter if I stay here longer?”

        “At least pretend like it matters!”

        “It doesn’t, Isabel. Nothing matters now. You heard the same thing back there that I did. All of this, human families, Earth, the only thing that’s important is getting back there and saving our home planet.”

        She sighs and brushes her hair out of her face. “Then if you’re going to be all Michael about it, just be careful and don’t accept any rides from psychos.” She leans forward to hug me awkwardly.

        I embrace her back. Your betrothed. Never married. Just betrothed. I was engaged to… to Isabel? How is that possible? How can that be? I pull back quickly, suddenly conscious of the proximity of our bodies.

“If you need a place to stay,” Tess tells me worriedly, glancing back and forth between us, “you’re welcome at my house. Nasedo probably won’t be back for a long time, but the house is paid for and it’s ours. We don’t have a whole lot of stuff, but I can make a bedroom up for you.”

        “Thanks,” I say, looking at her in a new light. “Hopefully it’ll all be okay.”

        Max glances back and forth between us, and I see the realization on his face that he’s gone from being my first backup choice to my second. Why sleep on the floor of Max’s room when I could have my own bedroom at Tess’s? But to his credit, he stays silent, still looking torn. Over Liz.

        “So we’ll see you back in town later,” Max says.

        “Right,” I say, staring up at the bright sky. “Right.”

        I make my way back into the pod chamber and stare at the broken, empty shells of our pods. I settle myself on the floor, cross-legged, and lean my chin on my fists as I study the space.

        Why can’t I remember a previous life? I’ve always felt like my life was longer than my ten years on Earth, but to have lived an entire lifespan somewhere else, as another life form? It truly boggles my mind.

        Second-in-command to the leader of the people. Betrothed to his sister. What does that make me? A soldier? A commander? A warrior? I’ve never felt like a soldier, at least not until this morning, fighting back against Agent Pierce. And damn if I didn’t win that contest. A warrior. It would explain the power I have, but the rage? How much of what I am is Michael Guerin, and how much is this soldier from another world?

        What does that make me?

        All this time I’ve been trying to find out who I am, and now I know. So how do I go back to a life of midnight talks with Nate, flipping burgers at the Crashdown, doing my homework every night? None of that matters. It would matter if I were human, but I’m not, and it doesn’t.

        But I can’t get Annie’s little pudgy face out of my mind.

        “Michael, please don’t leave.”

        I remember the night she stood in the doorway of my room, in the middle of the night, and I awakened to those words. Michael. This hologram, she’s speaking to a memory of someone I don’t even remember. Annie, she was talking to me.

        I have to forget that, though. I have to become this person I’ve forgotten. I think.

        Where do I start?

        My stomach growls loudly, echoing in the cavern, and it strikes me suddenly that I’ve gone hours without eating, and with a lot of effort in the process. Not to mention the fact that my eyelids are drooping, I haven’t slept in… in days. I’m running on pure adrenaline, and sitting is not beneficial to that right now.

        I drag myself to my feet, survey the space one more time, and climb out of the pod chamber. Might as well head back to the Butlers and face whatever storm awaits me there. I close my eyes briefly, enjoying the serenity, the peacefulness of being alone here as long as it can last.

        It’s a twenty minute walk to the nearest road, and another twenty minutes before the little beat-up black sedan finally pulls up beside me. I peer through the window, conscious of Isabel’s advice, and upon seeing a fairly normal-looking guy in his late fifties or so, with a friendly-looking little wife beside him, I take a deep breath and hop in.

        “You going near Roswell?” I ask.

        “Going right through,” the guy confirms. “I can drop you off downtown, we gotta stop and pick up a souvenir for the grandkids at one of those alien touristy place.”

        I nod, noting the irony. “I think I can help you out with that,” I say seriously. “I, uh, know a few places.”

        We drive on in silence. I stare out the window, watching the passing desert turn into passing civilization, and a few minutes later, I grab for the door of the car.

        “Hold on! Stop!” I order the guy, who slows, confused.

        “Why?”

        I gaze out towards the dark-haired figure working her way quietly beside the road, almost invisible. Should I? “I know her. Can we give her a lift?”

        He shrugs, glancing at his wife. “To Roswell? Okay by me.”

        I roll the window down. “Liz! Hey Liz!”

        She turns, and I catch sight of her face, looking even worse than before. Her eyes are a bright red, her face is otherwise pale… like she’s been crying ever since she left.

        “You, uh, need a ride?” I ask.

        She shakes her head vehemently. She doesn’t want a ride from me, anyway.

        “You can’t walk all the way back to Roswell from here,” I point out. “It’ll take you half a day.”

        “I can do it,” she says stiffly, and starts teetering along the road again.

        I have visions of Liz getting picked up by unsavory characters, or stumbling into town at 3 a.m., tired and with her clothes torn. I blink against my fatigue.

        “Liz,” I say patiently, glancing only briefly over my shoulder at the driver, “shut up and get in the damn car.”

        She freezes in place, tries without much success to glare at me, and after a moment, turns on her heel to climb into the backseat.

        We sit in silence as the car roars off down the highway towards town. I keep glancing to the side subtly but Liz, her face still ashen, is staring out the window, trying hard to avoid stimulating any sort of conversation.

        Because what do we have to say to each other now? Anything we’ve ever said to each other was about Max, my best friend and her boyfriend, or Maria, her best friend and my girlfriend. And now that those ties are severed, what else is there to say?

        “You kids mind if I take a leak?” the guy in the front seat asks. I wince involuntarily at his crudeness; this is Liz Parker in the backseat, after all. His wife doesn’t even seem to hear him. For a moment, I hate them. I hate them for their comfort with each other, their ease in each others’ presence. Their absolute lack of self-consciousness around each other. I wonder how long they’ve been together. Years. Maria and I had a couple of good months. And we’ll never have that again. I might never have that again…

        “Fine by me,” I say, and we pull over at the Lift-Off.

        “Be right back,” the guy says as he slams the door closed, his wife tottering along behind him. After a moment, I hop out myself.

        “You, uh, want anything to eat?” I ask Liz.

        She shakes her head silently and I shrug before turning and heading into the convenience store.

        After some hesitation, I grab for a packaged cinnamon roll, a large-sized bottle of McIlhenney’s good stuff, a King-Sized Kit Kat and a large bag of spicy popcorn. Our driver comes up behind me in line bearing a twenty-ounce Coca-Cola.

        “Son, that ain’t your girlfriend in the car, is it?” he asks.

        “Uh, no, sir,” I say. Perish the thought.

        “Cause she ain’t lookin’ so good, if you catch my drift.”

        I shrug. “Yeah, guess not.”

        “You know what’s wrong with her?”

        “Yeah,” I say slowly. “Um. I do.”

        “She doesn’t need a doctor or nothin’, does she?”

        “What?” Then I realize what he’s thinking. “No. Oh, no. She just…” I shake my head. “She’s got a lot going on, but she’ll get over it.”

        I dig a handful of cash out of my pocket, and upon receiving my change, dash out to the car where Liz is still sitting silently in the backseat.

        “Popcorn?” I ask, holding out the bag.

        “Not hungry,” she says stiffly. I pull the bag back to myself and pop it open, munching on the food within.

        “Have you even eaten today?” I ask her, and she shrugs. “Liz… It’s not worth it.”

        “Not hungry,” she says again.

        “Look,” I say impatiently. “I’m not sorry about how things went down. We did what we had to do, and you girls are gonna have to suck it up and deal.”

        “’Us girls’?” Liz asks in disbelief.

“Yeah,” I say, confused at her reaction. “You’re not making this any easier on Max, or on me.”

“Easier?” Liz blurts out. “You want ‘easier’? You should have just stayed in your shell to begin with, Michael. All three of you. That would have been a whole lot ‘easier’.”

“Maybe,” I say defiantly. “Maybe we should have never gotten involved at all.”

“Maybe Max should have just let me die in the first place!”

My jaw drops. “You don’t mean that.”

        “Michael, shut up. Just shut your mouth, please . You are the last person I want to see or talk to right now, at this moment, do you even understand that? Just get me home and leave me alone.”

        My jaw drops even further at this new Liz Parker, as my respect for her inches up a few notches. I start to say something, but there’s nothing to say.

        I pull the Kit Kat out of my bag. I don’t feel in the mood for it. I toss it dismissively in Liz’s direction and turn back around to stare out the window. I stare at the Lift-Off, where the driver is now emerging as he slugs his coke, his wife trotting along sipping her coffee. From beside me, I hear the slow crinkling of a wrapper as Liz unwraps her candy bar, and I try not to smile in reaction. It’s not hard; there’s nothing much worth smiling about right now.

        Our driver climbs back into his seat, starts up the engine, and we start back towards the familiarity of downtown Roswell.

        “You can let us off on Main Street,” I explain to the driver as the signs begin to appear for various Roswell locations. I glance back at Liz. “I’ll just walk home from there.”

        “Walk home?” Liz asks derisively. “Bit of a long walk, isn’t it?”

        I snort involuntarily, and glance around to catch a small smile from her.

        “To the Butlers?” I ask pointedly. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

        Liz sighs as she primly licks the last of the chocolate from her fingers. “Michael, just walk over to the Crashdown with me. I’ll drive you home already.”

        “You mean it?” I ask, surprised.

        “Yes. Good grief. You’re already three days late in getting there.”

        I glance immediately over at our escorts, who don’t seem to care too much about her mysterious reference. “Thanks, Liz,” I say gratefully.

        She shrugs. “You work for my family,” she says reluctantly, “and as much as I don’t want to admit it right now, that does sort of make you part of it.” She glances up at me. “You do still work for my family, right? You’re not going to… quit or anything?”

        “Now why would I do that?”

        “To… you know. Get away from… someone. Or something.” She glances up at me, her dark eyes fluttering.

        “I can’t,” I say ruefully. “I need the money too much.”

        “Okay, then,” Liz says, pursing her lips. “Um, we can get out right here, thanks.”

        I point a finger up the street. “There’s a great little gift shop if you folks turn at that second light up there, and go down about four blocks. Thanks for the lift.”

        I climb out with her and shut the door. “Thanks,” the guy says, waving at us.

        “Thanks for the lift, dude,” I say, and the car speeds off down the street.

        “You sent him to Amy DeLuca’s shop?” Liz asks carefully as we walk towards the Crashdown.

        I shrug. “They can use the business,” I say, trying to ignore the funny look she’s giving me. “What?”

        “Nothing. Hey, do you mind if I at least say hi to my mom and dad before I drive you home?”

        “Might as well,” I say, tagging after her into the Crashdown. At this point, it really doesn’t matter what time I get back to the Butlers…

        I glance around involuntarily for Maria, but she’s nowhere to be seen. In fact, none of our usual crowd is – just Kelly and Cindy waitressing, and Wendy doing prep work back in the kitchen for dinner.

        Liz takes a cursory glance around as well, and not seeing her father anywhere, leads me into the staff room, where we bump into her father replacing the time cards by the lockers.

        “Oh!” Liz says with surprise. “Dad!”

        “Liz!” he says, equally surprised. “You’re back from your camping trip?”

        “Yeah, sorry about that, Max’s car broke down, like I told you, and then we got stuck at the station all night… you can write me a letter for school, right?”

        “Of course, honey,” Jeff says, looking not in the least bit doubtful. “Michael, were you camping, too?”

        “Uh, sure,” I say. “Hey, when am I on the schedule this week?”

        “Not till Wednesday,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your summer schedule. Do you think your foster parents will let you pick up more hours when school’s not in session?”

        “I can ask,” I say doubtfully.

        “You do that,” he says. “Let me know by the end of the week, I’m trying to figure out whether or not I need to hire somebody immediately when Cheryl leaves.”

        “Cheryl’s leaving?” I ask automatically, then realize that it’s not worth a discussion right now. “Oh. Um, hey, we need to get going, Liz…”

        “Where are you going now?” Jeff asks congenially.

        “Taking Michael back to his house,” Liz says firmly, glancing at me. “Um, I’ll be home for dinner, Dad.”

        “Dinner’s downstairs tonight, your mom’s over at the Martins’ and I’m running the books. So whatever you want off the menu is yours, hon.”

        “Okay, thanks, Dad,” Liz says. “Can I borrow your car and take Michael home?”

        “Sure thing,” he says, and with that, Liz and I waste no time making our way out the door to the car.

        “Thanks for the lift,” I say hesitantly as I climb into the car, clutching the paper bag of snacks to my chest.

        She licks her lips as we pull out. “You know we’re probably not going to be talking much anymore after this.”

        “Yeah, probably not.”

        “So I just want you to know…” She sighs. “I want to tell you good luck. With the Butlers and all.”

        I glance at her in surprise. “Really?”

        “If anybody deserves a chance at a family, it’s you.”

        “I’ve got a family. They’re on another planet waiting for me to rescue them.”

        “You don’t know that. I was there, Michael, that woman didn’t say anything about your family.”

        “Yeah, but I’ve gotta have one!” I recognize how desperate my voice sounds. “I’ve gotta…” I trail off. “I came from somewhere,” I say firmly.

        “Just don’t get so caught up in stargazing that you forget what’s in front of your face,” she says doubtfully.

        “I could say the same thing to you.”

        “Yeah, well, don’t,” she snaps. “Did I mention I don’t want to hear it right now?”

        “Okay, fine, fine,” I say, holding up my hands in surrender.

        Liz sighs at me again. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

        “Do I care what you’re saying?”

        “I gave you advice once before, and it worked. You got yourself a job.”

        “Once is enough,” I snap.

        “If you don’t want to hear it-“

        “I don’t.”

        “-then I won’t bother,” she finishes.

        “Fine!” I pause. “You sound like Maria.”

        “I grew up with her,” Liz says, “ironically enough.”

        I hesitate, staring at her. Growing up with Maria. Getting to be around Maria, and not have to worry about all this crap… “Right.”

        “So this is your place?” Liz asks.

        I stare out at the Butler house. I glance down at my watch. It’s 6:16 in the evening. “This is it,” I say.

        “Looks nice,” she says casually.

        I stare at the house. Maybe I don’t have my own bedroom, but I do have Nate. Maybe they won’t leave me alone, but I do have the treehouse. Maybe they’re not my people, but they do have Annie… I take a deep breath.

        “Yeah,” I say. “Hey, listen, maybe you’ll feel better about everything soon.”

        This elicits a small snort. “Yeah, I’d like to think so,” Liz says.

        “Really. Just remember, we’re not worth it. Me, Max… we’re not.”

        “Thanks,” she says drily. “Good luck in there, Michael.”

        “Thanks,” I say as well, and climb out of the car.

        I watch as the Parkers’ car disappears down Summerwalk Circle. Once it’s out of sight, I trudge up the driveway, slowly, then up the sidewalk through the front yard of the Butlers’ house, up to my home.

        My hand hesitates, my finger brushing up against the doorbell, not pressing it, just considering. After a moment, I relax my arm, letting my hand drop to my side, and reach up to simply open the door.

        I stand in the doorway, glancing around.

        I smell pasta cooking on the stove, tomato sauce boiling somewhere in the kitchen out of sight. I hear the Backstreet Boys, playing on Annie’s stereo, and the familiar sounds of Nate’s alien game bleeping and blooping on the computer from our room.

        I close my eyes for a moment, taking it all in. The feel of coming… home?

        Then I shut the door behind me.

Chapter 86

        “Michael?” Toby comes around the corner from the kitchen, and his jaw drops as he registers my presence. “Michael! Veronica! He’s here!”

        Nate comes tearing into the room from the bedroom. He lingers in the entryway to the hallway with our bedroom and Annie’s, eying me, as Veronica comes out as well from the direction of the back bedroom.

        “Are you okay?” Veronica asks, approaching me, her arms outstretched. I shy away, flinching back in retreat. “Michael!”

        “Where the hell were you?” Toby blurts out, and I’m too tired to even register the fact that Toby Butler is indeed addressing me with profanity.

        “I’m… I’m tired,” I say faintly. “Can I just…?” I nod in the direction of the bedroom.

        “Not until you tell us where you were!” Toby demands, but Veronica lays her hand on his arm, silencing him.

        “Go, honey,” she says, looking me up and down, her face softening as she catches sight of my state. “Get some rest.”

        I pass Nate on my way to the bedroom, and he spins on his heel and follows me in, closing the door behind him. “Is everything okay now?” he asks in a low voice. “You got Nasedo?”

        I nod, feeling the fatigue hitting all over. My body is slowly draining. “It’s fine,” I say. “There’s other stuff…” I issue a great yawn. “I’ll tell you in the morning, okay, man?”

        “Sure,” he says, concerned. “Sure, do that.”

        I don’t even bother to take my clothes off, just collapse on the bed. That’s all it takes. My pillow, my mattress, the top of my comforter, and… it’s good. Everything is okay… Everything’s always gonna be okay, somehow…

        Nothing’s wrong, life is perfect… such lies…

*

She's waiting there for me, my Maria.

She smells like strawberry vanilla lotion, she's wearing the jacket that matches mine, over her Crashdown uniform and alien antennae, laughing as she spins around on the cliff.

I whisper her name. Then I call it, but my voice doesn't come loud enough.

She spins closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. My mouth opens, but now no sound is coming out at all. Nothing but air. Maria... She spins around one last time, her skirt flailing out, her white sneakers raising a cloud of dust around her, and then she vanishes, over the cliff.

I break out into a run, but it seems farther and farther away the more I run. I force my feet to make the ground move, and finally, there I am at the cliff. I drop to my knees and reach down to see if she's dangling, to see if I can catch her. I see a hand, and my hand closes around it.

I pull her up, falling backwards onto my hands as her weight tosses me forward. She's too big to be Maria. It's not Maria. It's not Isabel, either, though she has Isabel's face. She's older, wiser, more regal.

"It's you," I say, understanding at once.

She wrinkles her nose at me, a decidedly Isabel-like gesture. "And yet - it's not you," she replies.

"That's a fine how-d'you-do," I say. "I thought maybe you'd be happy to see me."

"I'd be happier if you were at all relieved to see me," she says. "I had hoped to never see you again."

Her words cut to my heart. "That's really what we were to each other?"

"You know nothing, little boy."

"You're right. I know nothing. So tell me something. Anything."

"I'll tell you that you're a fool."

"Yeah, I knew that already."

"You're a fool who stood by stupidly while his world crashed down around him. Stood by his king and never looked back."

I smirk at her. "Yeah, right. I've never listened to a thing Max had to say in this lifetime."

"Hmm," she sniffs. "Maybe you learned something after all."

"Listen here, woman," I say, as my defenses shoot up. "We're stranded here, all right? No one's told us what to do, or much about what we are, and we're supposed to fight back. We don't even know what we can do. So before you go acting all high and mighty with me, you might stop to give me a fuckin' clue."

She stares at me. "You're really not him," she says with disdain.

"Tell me anything. Tell me his name. Tell me if he had a family." I peer at her, questioning, but she takes a step back towards the cliff.

"I never loved you," she says. "I never cared for you."

"Is it me, or was it him?" I press on. "Are we the same person?" But her heels brush back over the cliff, she turns, and then she's gone.

*

I open the door of my home and tear inside, shoving past my brother and sister, in a race for the bathroom. I win, and I slam the door shut, locking it as I cackle and hear their pounding on the other side. I take a nice leisurely piss and stand on my tiptoes to wash my hands at length, then pause to adjust my hair before finally opening the door and letting them charge in.

My father has put the baseball game on TV, and after a moment, my brother and I join him, tucked up beside each other on the couch, hurling insults and tossing the Nerf ball back and forth. We all fall silent as the score grows closer and batter after batter surges ahead.

The game ends as dinner is served, and we all pile in to the kitchen table. My sister grabs for the dinner rolls and takes a disproportionate amount, leading to protests from my brother and I. I wind up snatching one from her plate with my mother's approval.

It's my turn to do the dishes, and I grudgingly gather the plates, silverware, cups and serving dishes, and haul them load after load to the kitchen sink, where I squirt dishwashing soap into the sink and fill it with soapy water to rinse before I put them into the dishwasher. My sister comes poking around in search of a second dessert, and I squirt the soap bubbles from the bottom of the soap container at her. She squeals in protest, drawing our father to referee, but he relaxes when he sees the indignant grin on her face.

I close and latch the door of the dishwasher, and hear it click into gear satisfactorily. I march over to the sitting room, where my brother is setting up the game of Life. After a few moments' worth of arranging, he and my mother and I are engaged in the game. Getting our education, marrying, having several pink and blue children, and all of life's joys and hardships along the way, tucking even more pink and blue children into our cars as we go.

I take a nice, leisurely bath with bubbles, stretching my full little body out along the whole length of the tub. I stay in for almost a half hour, emerging fresh and prunish, to slide into my warm flannel pajamas and join the family for the last hour's worth of sitcoms. I tuck myself between my sister and my father on the couch, laughing along with them, quoting commercials to my brother in the recliner, causing us to dissolve into fits of giggles and driving our sister and our parents slightly insane.

I brush my teeth beside my brother in the bathroom, and we both clamber into our respective beds, waiting until our mother comes to tuck us in with a goodnight kiss and turn the lights off.

I lie awake in my bed, warm and content. I try to remember why I'm not perfectly happy after a perfect night like this, and it's then that I realize why I'm unhappy.

It's because I know, just as I've known all along, that it's only a dream, and I have to wake up soon.

*

        My footsteps echo in the long, long corridor as I walk down, step after step, each footfall clattering loudly. I try to walk gently, but it’s no use, everyone can hear me coming.

        I can’t quite make out the figure seated at the other end. Is he near, or far? My sense of perspective is completely screwed up, but that’s the farthest thing from my mind right now. He sits towering above me, staring down at me through the distance.

        I can’t make out his face, either. Is he even human? I don’t know. I can see him completely, but I can’t see him at all. He looks like me, but he doesn’t. He’s not me. We’re different.

        “This is not my face,” he says, looking at me, deep in thought, as I slow to a halt before him, still so far away.

        “No,” I say, “It’s not. It’s my face.”

        He takes a moment to reconcile this. “But you say that you are me.”

        “They said I was.”

        “Do you believe them?”

        A chilly wind is blowing down the hall, from his direction. Almost as if he was sending it to me. I have chills zig-zagging through my spine. Is this man a royal, or a god?

        “I don’t know.”

        “How can you not be sure?”

        I stare up at the figure. He’s so imposing, he towers over everything. I can see right away how armies would obey him. How discontented citizens would flock to follow him. How leaders would choose him to be at their sides.

        My eyes drift to my right hand. Laced through my fingers is the handle of a sword. It feels perfectly natural, like the rings I wear. As if it’s second-nature. But I’ve never held a sword before.

        In fact, it feels just like my rings. It has no weight.

“I don’t know anything at all,” is all I can say.

        “Some people say I know everything.”

        “Then do you know who I am?” I ask.

        The figure gives me a critical gaze. I don’t know how I can tell his emotion when I can’t see his face, but I can. “I know who you are,” he says.

        “Who am I?”

        “If you don’t know the answer to that, then you answer your own question.”

        “Stop playing riddles with me! I can’t do this anymore!”

        “But you want answers.”

        “I want answers! Not more questions!” I throw the sword down, and as it hits the ground, it dissolves into a million tiny rings, clattering off in every direction. I jump back reflexively.

        Now he’s laughing. The son of a bitch general is laughing at me . “Do you believe that once I answer your question, that will be the end of all your questions?”

        “It’ll be the start. Look, I’m the one who has to sit down there and answer for everything you did. Your enemies are hot to trot on my tail and I don’t have a fucking clue who they are, or what I’m gonna do about them. The least you can do is give me a straight answer.” I reach down to pick up my rings and slide them back on my fingers. Their metal has turned cold, but even in this chilly hallway, it’s comforting. At last, I’m back in my own skin.

        His expression changes. “You don’t love her,” he says.

        I figure I’m just going to have to stay on his bizarre train of thought to play this game. Who is he talking about? “I’m in love,” I reply.

        “Not with her.”

        He doesn’t even say her name, it just washes over me, a warm breeze. The face I see in that breeze isn’t that of my sister, it’s a different one, even more familiar than Isabel’s.

“Then…” I stare down at the rings on my fingers, which bear strange markings. Strange, but familiar. “You are answering my questions,” I finally decide.

        “Yes.”

        I think that I’ve figured out what the answer is. I can do this. I can battle at his level. We do have that in common. “Will you answer more?”

        “Perhaps.”

        “Tell me about him.”

        “About…?”

        “Your destiny is bound with his. Why?”

        “We ruled together,” he says simply.

        “But you didn’t,” I have to argue. “He ruled. You followed.”

        He stares down at me, studying me. “You don’t like to be a follower.”

        Maybe he’s right.

        “But you are.”

        Okay, hold on. “What do you mean by that?”

        “Just what I say. You want to be independent. You want to stand your own ground, you want to control your own destiny. But you’re afraid to.”

        I feel my breath growing shallow. He knows me so well. Just when I had almost decided that we weren’t the same person… here he is seeing things that I won’t admit to myself.

        “I was not afraid to lead,” he says, and everything is once again a little clearer, “but I could not lead.” He pauses. “You don’t understand this.”

        “I don’t. What do you mean?”

        He laughs again. “You know nothing of politics! You are just a child. An alien child.”

        The words are like a dagger. But he’s right. To him, I am an alien. Just like I’m an alien on Earth. By being of both worlds, I don’t belong to either.

        “But do you regret following him?” I ask. “I mean, you lost, right?”

        “A good man does not regret,” he snaps at me. For the first time, he feels like… a father. A father reprimanding a child. And in a way, he is my father, and in a way, I am the child here. In a very weird, messed-up, hard to comprehend way. “You have to live with the choices you make.”

        “You accept the fact that you failed.”

        “We did not!” He’s angry with me now. He’s chastising me. “We have not failed until you fail.”

        Right, lay all the blame on the clueless part-human kid. Whatever. “You chose to follow him, then.”

        “I led with him,” he says. “Remember that.”

        I shake my head derisively. “Max won’t lead with me,” I say. “Max thinks I’m a moron.”

        “Max has a lot of learning to do himself,” the figure says sternly. “Don’t let him forget that.”

        I snort a little. “He’ll love that.”

        “You laugh,” he says sternly, “but you have much to learn, too.”

        “So help me,” I say seriously. “Look. I want to know. I want to learn. I can’t rest until I know who I am, and where I’m from, and what I’m supposed to do. Who I’m supposed to be with.”

        “You ask so many questions.”

        “I have so many questions! Help me!”

        But he shakes his head. “Too many questions.”

        “Answer one. Answer anything! Just give me an answer!”

        But all I hear is silence, and the pattering of the rain on the window beside my head.

*

        “You’re dead,” I whisper.

        I stare down at his familiar face. I hear a mantra in the air around me… I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t…

        But all that returns is silence, and not a certainty.

        “That’s not what I did,” I say. “You’re not the one that I killed.”

        It doesn’t matter. He’s dead.

        “It’s not me!” I say, more firmly. “It’s not me! I didn’t do it!”

        Killer…
       
        The patter rains down around my head, drowning me…

Chapter 87

        The patter of the rain draining from the roof rouses me from my slumber. I can't remember what I was dreaming about, but a general feeling of unease has settled over me.

        I blink around at the room as reality floods back to me. Destiny. Maria. The soldier. The victims. A previous life. Pierce. Tess. The Butlers. Everything comes back to me in a rush of discomfort.

        I grope for the alarm clock on the table between the beds. It's 3:42 in the morning.

        I glance over at Nate. What day is it? When I came home, it was six in the evening. Did I sleep all night? I have a vague feeling that I slept for more than a day, but I can't be sure. It really is 3:42 in the morning, and not in the afternoon, right? The only thing that assures me of this certainty is Nate, snoring softly in the bed beside me.

        I remember Veronica's hand, brushing the hair back from my forehead. Raised voices, my name coming up over and over. The sounds of Annie’s loud sobs. Nate’s vehement protests. And long periods of nothing. Not sure what any of it meant, if it meant anything. Were the voices that I heard real, or my imagination? Was I dreaming, or was it a waking nightmare? I don't know where my home is anymore, I don't know how much time has passed, or how much time I have left here.

        I push the clock away, and I hear a clatter as something tumbles from the dresser to the floor. Nate stirs in his bed at the noise, and I shrink back into the covers of my bed.

        I stare up at the ceiling above my head. My ceiling. My home? I've fought for so long, so hard not to call it that. And now, as I know I may be leaving soon, it seems more like my home than ever. Even though I know how much it's not. It's not my home.

        “Michael.”

        He's awake.

        “You're awake,” he says, surprised.

        “When is it?” I ask blearily. “When-?”

        “It's Tuesday night,” he whispers. “Tomorrow is Wednesday.” He glances at his own alarm clock. “It's Wednesday morning, I guess.”

        “I slept for more than a day?” I ask, only mildly astonished. I’ve at least sensed the passage of time, even if I’m not sure how it happened. “And nobody called the doctor?”

        Nate shrugs. “You hate doctors,” he offers as an explanation.

        “Well, yeah, but,” I say. I blink around. The moonlight is streaming in through the window, casting an eerie glow over my bed beneath it. Nate seems to lurk in the shadows somewhere unseen.

        “How do you feel?” he asks cautiously.

        I stretch as I consider this. “Not as tired,” I say. “Not anymore.”

        “I would hope not,” he says.

        “Nate,” I ask carefully. “Was I having nightmares? Did I talk in my sleep?”

        He nods. “It was hard to make out, though.”

        “Was it?”

        “Kinda sounded like...” He swallows a little, and I already know what's coming. “It kinda sounded like a, uh, foreign language.”

        “Of course it did,” I say. “Course it did.” Makes absolute fucking sense...

        “You didn't sleep at all last weekend, did you?”

        “No,” I say faintly. “No. I didn't.”

        Nate straightens up, sitting cross-legged in his bed, tucked beneath his comforter for warmth. The rain trickles down outside our window, pattering against the glass.

        “Nate,” I say quietly. “What happened?”

        “I thought you would tell me,” he says.

        “I mean...” I swallow. “Veronica and Toby... what's my status?”

        His face darkens. “You might want to wait until morning and let them tell you yourself.”

        “Tell me,” I say firmly. “Nate, tell me. I'm not fuckin' waiting until daylight.”

        “You sure you want to know?” He sighs. “Okay. So we said goodbye at the museum Monday morning.” I nod slowly.

        “You were s’posed to ditch me and go back to the Butlers,” I say. “You didn't do that. You dumb fuck.”

        He shakes his head. “Well, Maria and Liz and Alex and I went to Valenti,” he says. “Later that first afternoon, I guess Sunday.”

        “Wait, wait, what about your playoff game?” I ask.

        He stares at me like I'm retarded. “I told you I was quitting the damn team.”

        “Not that very day you weren't.” I push myself up on my elbows, staring at him from across the room.

        “I missed practice on Saturday,” he explains. “When we were looking for Liz. So I wouldn't have been able to play Sunday anyway.”

        “You never told me that,” I point out quickly.

        He shrugs. “It wouldn't have mattered.”

        “Nate, you dumb fuck...”

        “You said that already.”

        “Yes, I did. I'm saying it again. I told you to save your own ass. So what happened Sunday? What’d I miss?”

        “I'd missed the game by then,” he says. “I stayed with them at the restaurant all day. Veronica called looking for you and me, she called the restaurant. Liz intercepted the call, just said there was an emergency, I was fine, and you were out. Veronica...”

        "Veronica shit a brick," I fill in for him, and Nate nods in confirmation.

        "I wouldn't talk to her," he says quietly, his eyes glazing over as he stares out the window at the rain. "Liz fielded the call. It... it took our minds off everything else for a little while."

        I swallow and nod slowly. No wonder Liz was so worried about my status with the Butlers. My mind flits back to the tunnels of the air force base, crawling around frantically in search of Max…

        "Just after four," Nate continues, "we went to see Valenti."

        "Which I told you not to do," I say, brandishing an accusing finger at him.

        "Are you complaining now?" he asks.

        I sigh reflectively. "Guess I can't, can I?"

        "No, that one really calls for a big 'I told you so' on the human side of things'."

        I don't much care for 'I told you so's, especially when they’re not mine. "Whatever," I grumble. "So you went to Valenti. What happened? It was, like, ten at night before we saw you at the air force base."

        "Along with everything else," Nate says, "Valenti put in a call here. It was while we were on our way to the base, he called on his cell phone. Told Veronica and Toby not to worry about you, that he was handling it, and he'd take care of you."

        "What'd they say to that?" I ask, astonished.

        "Hit the roof again," he continues. "But what could they do? The only person they'd call on a missing persons is Valenti himself, and with him on the other end of the line saying you and I were okay, they didn't have much of a choice left."

        "Saying we were okay?" I echo. "You did tell him we were breaking into a secret government facility, right?"

        "Well, yeah, but I think he was feeling