Souljacker

By Karen

Email: OmarsFan1@aol.com
Rating: R

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The killer awoke before dawn

He put his boots on

He took a face from the ancient gallery

And he walked on down the hall

-          The Doors, “The End”

Prologue

Sherry Robinson was nineteen years old, a freshman at the University of New Mexico.  Someday, she hoped to be a graphic designer.  But that was someday.  Today she was just happy to be with her friends, go to a party, meet new people.  There was plenty of time for someday.

Sherry’s friends liked her.  She was a veritable popularity magnet, and not because she was snobbish or had wealthy parents or wore the best clothes or whatever it took to be a part of the “in” crowd.  Sherry was popular because she was kind to everyone, popular or not, and because she was fun.  If there was a party, Sherry was there.  A charity event, she was first in line to volunteer her services.  Despite all of the extra curriculars, she also managed to keep her grades at the honor roll level.  There were wonderful things in store for Sherry Robinson.

It was very early morning when her friends dropped her off in front of her dorm.  They laughed, spilled from the doors of the small Volkswagen, giddily admonishing one another to be quiet.  In the distance, a dog barked as Sherry pulled herself from the pavement, brushed her long blond hair from her face.  Drunkenly, she brushed the dirt from her jeans and waved an accusing finger at her best friend Tamara.

“Don’t mess with the jeans,” she threatened half-heartedly, then burst out laughing again.

Tamara put her arms around her unsteady friend and the two of them nearly tumbled to the pavement again.  They were both pretty drunk.

“I love you so much!” Tamara said against Sherry’s ear.

Sherry snorted, then giggled.  “You’re not leading to a ‘just once, when I was in college’ thing, are you?”

Tamara pulled away, laughed giddily.  “No, nimrod.  If I’d wanted to jump your bones, I would’ve done it sometime in the past ten years.”  She wrinkled her nose.  “You know I’m not patient enough to wait for college.”

Sherry laughed and smacked her friend playfully on the lips anyway.

“Whoa!” Steve, the driver of the car shouted.  “The girls are going at it!”

The other boys in the back seat leaned out to catch the very annoyed glances of the girls.  Sherry slung her arm around Tamara’s shoulders and they swayed to one side.

“Not tonight,” she laughed in Steve’s direction.  “But maybe later.”  She winked at him.  “A thought for you to sleep on.”

Tamara laughed and disengaged herself so she could climb back in the car.

“Want us to wait until you get upstairs?” Steve asked.

Sherry shook her head.  “Nah.  I can make it that far.”  She stooped a bit so she could see into the car.  “’Night, guys.  I had a great time.”

They all shouted their goodbyes as the car sped away, tires squealing.  The dog barked louder.

Sherry stood on the sidewalk and watched the taillights become little red points, then disappear around a corner.  She was suddenly cold and stuffed her hands into her pockets as she looked up to her fifth-story window.  But she was intoxicated and her mind and eyes drifted to the clear night sky.  Even with the security lights, she could still see some stars burning brightly above her.  She stood there for a long time until the need to pee forced her to move.

Half way to the door, she felt a chill up her spine, thought she heard footsteps behind her.  She paused, turned her head slightly to the side to try to catch the sound she’d heard.  After a few seconds of silence, she shrugged and moved for the door again. 

Then she saw a shadow cross the walk in front of her.

She froze, afraid to move even her head.  She rolled her eyes first from one side then to the other.  The buzz was starting to wear off and she suddenly felt very frightened.  Working up the courage, she glanced at the shrubbery, the nearby trees.  She caught no sight of whatever had made the shadow.  Sherry giggled self-consciously to herself, then broke into a panicked run for the door.

Her hand was only inches away from the handle when she could suddenly move no farther.  She struggled against the invisible force holding her from the doors, but couldn’t break its hold.  Something grabbed her shoulder and whipped her around.

The dog in the distance was suddenly silent.

Sherry’s blue eyes grew in wonder, then terror as she beheld the being before her.  She had never felt such malicious intent emanating from anything in her life.  A single tear glistened in her eye as it reached for her.  All of her dreams of someday vanished before her.  But she knew that it wasn’t interested in taking her life.

It wanted her soul.

Part One

Max Evans stared sightlessly at the book before him.  His eyes dried and blurred his vision, causing him to blink.  He blinked several times, then shook himself from his catatonic state and glanced across the restaurant.

There she was.

Liz.

Max frowned, drew in a breath and released it as a depressed little sigh.  It hurt to look at her, but he couldn’t keep himself away.  What hurt most was the fact that she seemed to be going about her life like she didn’t miss him, didn’t ache for him.  Max didn’t understand that.  He hurt everywhere, from his hair to his toes, just looking at her.  He ached every morning when he got up and every night when he went to bed.  Max was one big walking bruise.

But Liz could laugh.

She was laughing now, behind the counter with her best friend Maria.  It wasn’t a little laugh.  It was one of those out-raged, girlie-screams that turns into raucous laughter.  Hard to fake that one.

Max didn’t want to believe that Liz had moved on so easily, so simply, without ever really looking back.  But apparently she had.

Suddenly feeling nauseous, Max looked back down to his math book.  The numbers blurred and he angrily willed the tears away.  What a display that would be – show up at her parents’ restaurant, then blubber like a baby for all the world to see.  But Max couldn’t help it – the pain was too great.

There were days he didn’t feel he could go on.  Not that he would ever contemplate ending it all, but crawling under a blanket and sleeping the rest of his life away was sometimes very appealing.

Max sensed motion across from him and looked up into his sister Isabel’s eyes as she slid into the booth.  She looked annoyed.  Which was nothing new.

“Were you crying?” she snapped in a hushed tone.

Max shook his head, tried to act nonchalant as he lied.  “No.  I’m just tired.  Didn’t get much sleep.”  The act was good, but he couldn’t resist a sideways glance at Liz.

Isabel followed his gaze, then let out an irritated snort.  “Of course.  Why do you come here, Max?”

He attempted a smile.  “I like the food?” he offered wanly.

She cocked her head, then waved her hand.  “Whatever.  Where’s Michael?”

Max shrugged.

“Well, I need to find him.”

He looked at her, gave another shrug.  What did she expect him to do about it?

She sighed.  “Where’s Tess?”

Max felt a chill up his spine.  Something about that girl…something about her just made him squirm.  And not because of the information that had been revealed to him a few months ago that she was his wife in a prior life.  It was something else.  Max didn’t trust her.

“I don’t know,” he answered, managed to keep the “and I don’t care” off the end of his sentence.

“You’re a big help, Max,” Isabel chided as she slid from the booth.  “If you run into either of them, tell them I’m looking for them.”  It wasn’t a question, it was a command.

Max twisted in his seat and watched Isabel’s back as she left.  I thought I was supposed to be the king, he snarked to himself.  It seemed to him that Isabel was better at giving orders than he was.

As his turned back around, he accidentally made eye contact with Liz.  She paused, frozen, then quickly looked away.  Max swallowed, felt that familiar clench in his stomach and decided it was time to leave.

“What did you find out?” Michael asked as he circled the counter in his small kitchen.

Isabel folded out the paper on which Max had once drawn the symbols from the cave that River Dog had shown him.  She drew in a breath and brushed her hair over her shoulder.  “Not much, I’m sorry to say.”

Tess arose from the couch and joined them.  “Nothing familiar?” she asked.

Isabel shook her head.  Her fingers traced the four square symbol and she thought of the pairings that had been revealed to them last spring – Max and Tess, Isabel and Michael.  Royalty.  “Only this one,” she said quietly.  “It becomes clearer every day.”  She looked up at Michael, hoped he didn’t see the multiple questions in her eyes.

“I know,” he confirmed.  The dreams had stopped, but he felt unnaturally drawn to Isabel.  Not necessarily sexually, but more gravitationally.  And sometimes it happened unintentionally – often he and Isabel would end up in the oddest places at the same time.  The ice cream aisle at the convenience store at midnight.  The dentist office.  In line behind one another at the library.  He couldn’t explain it.

Tess looked at the four square symbol.  It was familiar to her, too.  Not that it mattered – Max had turned his back on everything alien.  If it weren’t for Michael and Isabel, Tess would have felt entirely alone on this world.

Almost as if on cue, Michael asked, “Did you find Max?”

Isabel rolled her eyes.  “Yes.  Want three guesses as to where?”

Michael shook his head.  “Don’t think I need them, thanks.”  He raked a hand through his hair, stared at the countertop in disgust.

“We’re on our own in this, Michael,” Isabel said, a tinge of impatience in her voice.  “Max isn’t going to come around any time soon.”  She shrugged.  “I don’t know if he ever will.  When it comes to finding a way home, finding out who we really are, Max doesn’t care.”  Isabel looked sympathetically at Tess.  “I don’t know if that will ever change.  I don’t think he will ever want to leave.”

Tess nodded her understanding.  She could deal with Max’s rejection.  She was a strong girl – she needed no one.

Michael gestured toward the paper.  “What do we do now?”

“Maybe we could try pooling our memories,” Tess suggested.

Isabel looked at her curiously.  “How would we do that?”

Tess shrugged.  “Not sure.  We could try to form a connection or something, see if we can probe each other’s minds.  Maybe we could help jar each other’s memories.”

Isabel seemed somewhat willing.  Internally, Michael wasn’t sure he wanted Tess poking around in his head – maybe it was because Michael had no cerebral power and didn’t really understand how it all worked, but something told him letting Tess see his thoughts was a bad idea.

Alex Whitman slid his lithe body onto a stool at the Crashdown counter.  He waited patiently until one of his friends spied him.  Maria gave a little squeal and rushed over to the counter.

“Orange soda, Mr. Whitman?” she asked.

“Sure,” he answered, but appeared to be looking for something else.

“Need a menu?” Maria asked as she filled a glass from the soda fountain.

Alex looked back at her.  “Um, no.”

“What are you looking for, then?”

Alex scratched his head.  “Liz.  Is she working?”

Maria set the soda down in front of him and wiped her hands on her apron.  “Yeah.  She’s in the back.  She needed a break.  Another close encounter.”

Alex raised his eyebrows, then understood.  Another Max sighting.  “Gotcha.  Well, if she’s not up to talking, then –“

“Are you joking?” Maria laughed.  “She’d be thrilled to see you, Alex.  Liz adores you.  I’ll go get her.”

Alex waited patiently again until Liz came through the swinging kitchen door and gave him a hug.  She gave the same girlie squeal that Maria had produced only moments before. 

“My sweetie!” she said as she released him.  “Did you get taller since the last time I saw you?”

Alex laughed.  “God, I hope not.  Pretty soon the NBA is going to draft me.”  He gestured to the seat beside him.  “Sit, sit.”

Liz complied, crossed her legs.  She was smiling broadly.  She loved Alex.  He was so…uncomplicated.  She never had to wonder what was on his mind, would he be there tomorrow, was he married to an alien from another lifetime.  Alex was the most low-maintenance friend she’d ever had.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she said as she cuffed him on the arm.

Alex bit his lip, looked at his hands.  “Well, it’s kind of awkward, so I might as well just say it.”

Liz’s eyes grew round.  “What’s wrong?”

Alex looked at her quickly.  “Nothing.  Oh, no – nothing’s wrong.  Sorry.  I, um, wanted to ask you out.”

Liz shrugged.  “Okay.  What did you want to do?  Movie?  My house?  Yours?”

Alex laughed nervously.  “Not like that, Liz.”

She giggled.  “What do you mean?  We go out all the time, Alex.  We’re always…”  Her voice trailed off and her mouth dropped open.  “Oh.  You meant out.  As in out.”

Alex nodded his head, looked silently down at his hands again.

“On a date,” Liz finished.

He nodded again.  “Look, it’s probably a bad idea, but I’m messed up because of Isabel and I know you haven’t had it easy since Max and I just thought maybe we could be miserable together, ya know?”  He met her eyes, couldn’t read her emotions.  After a long silence, he let out a sigh.  “I’m a dufus.”

Liz laughed, reanimated, and put a hand on his arm.  “No,” she said.  “No, you’re very sweet, Alex.”

“But you don’t want to go out with me,” he said flatly.  “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, that’s not it.  It’s just that we’ve been friends for so long and …where did this come from?”

He allowed himself to smile, gave a little shrug.  “I’m lonely, I want to date.  But I’m afraid of being stung again,” he said honestly then paused.  “And I like you, Liz.”

Her gaze softened and she smiled.  “Yeah, sure.  I’d love to go out with you, Alex.”

At home, Max found his mother sitting on the couch with her afternoon cup of tea.  She was watching CNN and shaking her head in disbelief.  At the sound of the door closing, she looked up and smiled at her son.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she greeted.  “How was school?”

Max forced a smile and sat down beside her as he dropped his heavy backpack to the floor.  Immediately, Diane Evans reached over and rubbed his arm.  She was a toucher, a displayer of affection and it had taken Max years to get used to her contact.  Not that he didn’t trust her – it was just hard to let others touch him.  Except for Liz.  He’d never minded Liz touching him.

“Okay,” he lied in response to her question.  “Got an A on my history test.”

Diane laughed.  “That’s nothing new,” she joked and Max smiled back.  She rubbed his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the side of his head.  “You’re such a good son, Max.”

He’d heard that compliment so many times in his life that he’d become immune to it.  At first, it had embarrassed him to no end, but now he realized that his mother needed to say it out loud, that it was important to her for some reason.

“I know,” he laughed.

She gave an amused snort.  “Yeah – I repeat myself.  But you are, Max.  You’ve been a real joy.”

Okay, that was embarrassing.  Max felt his ears start to burn and he had to look at the floor.

“I thank God for you every day,” Diane continued, then returned her gaze to the screen.  She watched the images, shook her head.

Max finally looked up and watched the news report with her.  “What’s this?” he asked.

“Oh, honey, some girl at the University seems to have gone just totally bonkers.”  She sipped her tea.  “Nice girl apparently – popular, good grades, never in trouble.  Then one day last week she went on a rampage.  Killed her roommate, two other people in her dorm.  Just awful.”  She shook her head again.

Max looked at the images of the pretty blond girl, smiling in all of her photos, and wondered what it took for someone to snap like that.  “Did they catch her?” he asked.

“That’s the weird part,” Diane said.  “They found her dead.  And they don’t know how she died.”

Part Two

Homer Simon owned a small gas station just outside of Hacienda Acres, New Mexico.  Despite having a name unfortunately similar to a popular cartoon under-achiever, Homer had done well with his small business, which had been passed down to him from his father.  He didn’t make money hand over fist, but he made enough to keep a roof over his and his family’s heads.

As the sun set over the horizon, turning the sky striking shades of pinks and oranges, Homer pulled down the heavy garage door and wiped his hands on a shop rag.  In one bay of the garage was his prize – a ’57 Chevy that he’d been restoring for what seemed like most of his 39 years.  In the other bay, a 1999 Ford S-10 he was repairing for a customer.

But the customer would have to wait another day, until Homer could get the parts from the Ford dealer.  Being in a remote location, it some times could take a week to get the parts he needed to do his job.

In the tiny store area of the service station, Homer punched a few keys on the cash register, which whirred in response and spit out the cash drawer.  He took it and a ticker-tape receipt of the day’s activity to his office behind the store.  Even though he was tired, he’d always felt it was best to balance the drawer before the morning.  That way he could get started at a leisurely pace, drink a cup of coffee before the customers started arriving, demanding gas or cigarettes or munchies for a road trip.

When he was almost done with his task, he heard the door to the store open, the bell tinkling.  Homer looked up, confused, and scratched his head.  Rising from the desk, he peeked into the store.  A young girl, maybe college age, was standing motionlessly by the counter.

“We’re closed,” Homer called in a friendly tone.  His mind was whirling – he knew he’d locked the door.

The girl didn’t move.  She looked rather sickly.  Her long blond hair was a matted mess, her clothes dirty.  Her face was pale…but her eyes seemed dead.

Homer scowled with concern and approached the opposite side of the counter.  “Honey?  You all right?  You need me to call someone?”

He stopped before her and waited.  Then she blinked and met his gaze.  Homer’s eyes grew wide as he looked into the face of pure evil.  In a flash, her hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat.  In a matter of seconds, Homer Simon felt his world go dark.

Tess’s eyes were clenched tight in concentration.  She was seated Indian-style on Michael’s worn carpet, her hands firmly gripping Michael’s and Isabel’s.  They formed a tight circle, their expressions similar.

Tess worked on making their connection.  She knew that they had connected on some level because she could feel Michael’s and Isabel’s presence within her body.  But now she was trying to probe deeper.  She got in a little with Isabel; obviously Isabel’s mind powers were very strong and she was controlling what Tess could see.  But Tess could get nothing from Michael.

She tried several times, using her mind as a battering ram against Michael’s mental roadblock.  But each time she bounced backward, denied.  She sent Isabel a silent message to help, but Isabel either never got the message or refused to help.

Finally Tess sighed and broke the connection.  She released their hands and rubbed the sides of her head.  Her eyes settled on the candle burning in the middle of the circle they created.

“You’re blocking,” she accused Michael without looking at him.

“I am not,” he said calmly.

Tess met his gaze.  “Yes, you were.”  She looked at Isabel.  “Did you feel that?”

Isabel looked away.

Of course.  Isabel would side with Michael.  She was his betrothed, his intended.  Of course she would stick up for him.  Just like Max should be sticking up for Tess.

Tess shoved herself to her feet and paced before the window.  “This isn’t working,” she announced.

Isabel looked cautiously at Michael.  “Why do you think it isn’t working?”

Tess stopped pacing, placed her hands on her hips and took them both in.  “Well, if Michael would let me into his head would help.”

Michael pursed his lips.  “I told you I wasn’t blocking.  It isn’t my fault if you can’t get in.”  Secretly, Michael knew he’d been countering her – with all of his might.  He’d seen what she’d done to Pierce and his goons – if she could deposit thoughts and images into their heads, why couldn’t she do the same to Michael?

Isabel could feel the tension starting to mount and knew she needed to do something to calm both of them down.  “Okay, let’s just say for the sake of argument that Michael isn’t blocking –“

“Then apparently his head is empty,” Tess retorted.

Michael started to get up, to respond, but Isabel put a hand on his arm and continued to talk as if Tess hadn’t interrupted.  “What else could we do to make this work?  Is there something else we could try?”

Tess met her gaze, then sank to the couch in defeat.  “I think we need Max.”

Isabel snorted.  “I told you earlier.  Max isn’t interested in this.”

Tess studied her silently.  “Maybe I should ask him.”

That comment cut Isabel straight to the core.  What made this little blond girl think she could just walk into their lives and immediately know how to control Max?  Isabel had been with Max from the start – eleven long years now – and there was absolutely nothing she didn’t know about him.  She knew what time he went to bed, what he ate for breakfast, how just seeing Liz Parker made his stomach flip-flop to the point of nausea.  Isabel knew which of Max’s buttons to push to piss him off, gain sympathy from him, manipulate him into seeing her way.  She’d tried all of them to get him to help with their quest and he hadn’t bitten.  Tess had known him a total of six months.  There was nothing she could do that Isabel couldn’t.

Unless it involved sex.

Isabel would have to give that one to Tess.  Being his sister, she’d never had that card in her deck.  But Tess definitely did.

“What do you have in mind?” Isabel asked cautiously.

Tess gave a little sigh.  “I don’t know.  Maybe I could just talk to him and convince him to help us.  It’s worth a shot.  What harm could it do?”

Isabel looked at Michael, who was eyeing Tess curiously, almost suspiciously.

“Okay,” Isabel said.  “Give it a shot.”

Tess nodded her agreement, then excused herself to use the bathroom.

Michael met Isabel’s gaze for a long time.  “Screw talking to him,” he finally said, softly.  “She needs to go down on him in a hurry and get him to do what she wants.”

Isabel’s mouth dropped open.  “Michael!”

He shrugged.  “I only speak the cold, hard truth.”

Liz couldn’t help but laugh at all of Alex’s courtship rituals.  When he arrived at the Crashdown to pick her up for their date, he hurriedly ran before her to get every door that was in her path.  She stifled her giggle – she could remember a time when Alex would forget she was behind him and let a door slam shut in her face.  But he was very sweet, and he was trying very hard.

Alex had made reservations at a family-owned restaurant on the outskirts of town.  It wasn’t terribly expensive, but the food was wonderful and Alex’s dad was a friend of the owner.  With a more casual atmosphere, the couple had been able to dress comfortably.  And that’s what they were together – comfortable.

Liz sipped her water, tried to not spew it all over the table when Alex hit the punch line of his joke.  She giggled, wiped her mouth with her napkin.  “Tell me about your classes,” she prompted.  “We have like nothing together this year.”

“I know,” Alex agreed as he harpooned the last of his green beans almandine with his fork.  “Well, thankfully I’m a junior now so there are no more humiliating bouts of dodge ball to be had.”

Liz laughed.

“And I am once again in biology, which I of course failed last year.”  He washed down the beans with a sip of water.  “I’m glad I only need one lab science for college prep.  If I’m lucky, I’ll finish one of them before I graduate.”

Liz’s gaze softened.  “I’ll help you with the biology,” she said.

Alex raised his eyebrows.  “Really?  Yeah?  What a friend – I think I might keep you.”  He smiled behind his napkin. “Of course, you may need to help Michael, too, because for some reason he’s there again, too.  I think senior year will get here and Michael and I will be the oldest students in beginning biology.”

Liz laughed again.  She knew that school had always been a secondary concern to Michael – especially this year.

“Um, computer science is going well.”  Alex gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up sign and received another girlie giggle from his date.  “But enough about me.  What about you?”

Liz shrugged.  “You know how I am with school, Alex.”

“Perfect?”

She snorted.  “Not really…”

“Sure you are.  You always have been.”  Alex paused, then cleared his throat.  “How’s school with the Max Factor figured in?”

Liz glanced away for a moment, folded her hands on the table.  “I can avoid him most of the time,” she replied.  “I have history and chemistry with him.”

“Lab partners?”

Liz shook her head.  “Thank God, no.  Isabel claimed him on day one.”  Her gaze shot to Alex’s as she realized she’d just mentioned the “I” word.

Alex gave her a gentle smile.  “It’s okay, Liz.  I’m not going to crumble into a million pieces if you talk about her.”

Liz gave a nervous giggle.  “Of course not.  Sorry.” She cleared her throat.  “Anyway, Isabel and Max are partners and they spend most of their time staring at me in one way or the other.  Max with those kicked-dog eyes and Isabel with the daggers.”

Alex’s brow furrowed.  “Why the daggers?”

Liz shrugged.  “I don’t know, Alex.  They got some big news last spring and I think that maybe the others are trying to figure out more details and maybe Max isn’t being very helpful.”  She paused, wishing Alex would figure out the rest so that she wouldn’t have to say it aloud.

Alex studied her for a moment, then his eyes widened.  “You think because of you?  You think Max is still thinking there is hope for you and he isn’t interested in the UFO Club?”

Liz nodded.  She had to give it to Alex – he was no dummy.  “So, to Isabel I must be the anti-Christ.”

His gaze softened and he reached across the table to touch her hand.  “Isabel never said a bad word about you, Liz.”

She looked at his hand, put one of hers on top of his.  “I know, Alex, but that was before.  That was then – this is now.”

Alex’s response was interrupted by the waiter bringing the check to the table.  “Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Whitman,” the older man said, then gave a sideways wink.  Liz and Alex both laughed.

As the waiter moved away, Liz reached behind her to retrieve her purse and Alex tightened his grip on her hand.  She looked back to him, confused.  He shook his head.  Before she could speak, Alex spoke.

“It’s a date, Liz,” he reminded her.

Her cheeks reddened.  “Oh.  I almost forgot.”

Alex laughed as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket.  He was so comfortable with Liz that he’d forgotten they were on a date also.

The couple returned to the Crashdown, but only to park the car.  They got out and walked the quaint, brick-sidewalks of Roswell.  The streetlights cast their shadows long before them and they seemed to walk for hours, talking about school, impending senior year, graduation, what would come next. 

Finally, when the evening mist started to become chilly, Alex walked Liz back to her door.  She looked nervously at her shoes.  This was the part of a date she always hated – the will-he-or-won’t-he part.  She felt Alex’s hand under her chin, lifting her head and she had the answer – he would.

But she was wrong.  Alex’s blue eyes were amused as he dropped his hand.  “Rest easy, Parker – I’m not going to try to kiss you.”

Liz gave a nervous laugh, a laugh that was cut off by Alex’s next statement.

“Yet.”

The next day, Mrs. Gray, the history teacher, walked a steady, slow path across the front of the classroom as she addressed her students.  Max tried to watch her, to pay attention, but his gaze kept shifting to the left and up a few seats – to Liz Parker.

The mid-morning sunlight had streamed through the classroom windows and seemed to be focusing all of its attention on Liz.  Or so Max imagined.  Her hair, so soft and shiny, glistened in the golden light.  Each time she moved, her mane glowed in a different way, a different shape.  Max swallowed and allowed himself to wallow in some self-destructive fantasizing.

Max’s eyes followed the outline of her body from the crown of her head, to her shoulders, down her arm, to her slim waist, to her shapely legs displayed beneath the hem of her jean skirt.  He stared at the curve of her calf, remembering the soft texture of her skin beneath his palm.  He and Liz had been so intimate with each other – nude more than once but never engaging in the ultimate act.  With an internal pang, Max remembered the night in the desert when they’d found the first orb; Liz had been willing to give her body to him in order to help him discover a clue about his origin.

And now Max didn’t want to know.  He didn’t care where he came from or why he was here.  All Max wanted was to be human so that Liz would accept him and come back to him.  He gave a little, silent snort.  It was the ultimate form of racism, in his opinion.

“History is happening now,” Mrs. Gray was saying when Max tuned back in.  “To you, it is the present, but to all who come after you, it was the past.  What is happening in today’s world that will matter tomorrow?”  She paused dramatically, then gave an sardonic smile.  “Which leads me to your assignment.”

A collective groan arose from the class.

“Your assignment is a paper.”

A larger collective groan this time.

The instructor sat on the edge of her desk.  “I want you to find a news story and follow it for the next couple of weeks.  It doesn’t have to be world news, it could be local.  It just needs to be something that is more than a one day event.  In other words – a car accident does not qualify.  A sale at Old Navy is not an event.”  There were a couple of stifled giggles.  “Pick your story.  Follow it.  Then write a paper on its impact on history.  Class dismissed.”

As the student shuffled their books and papers and left the room, Max sat motionlessly, just watching Liz prepare to leave.  She tossed her long hair over her shoulder and stuffed her books into her bag.  She didn’t even give him a glance as she exited the room.

Earth Girl Devastates Alien Boy.

Now there was a story.

In the hallway, Max nearly knocked Tess over – she’d been hovering around the classroom door waiting for him.  He wasn’t sure, but he thought she pushed her chest out when she saw him.

“Hi, Max!” she said, too chipper.

“Hi, Tess,” he replied flatly.  He didn’t want to deal with her right now.  Actually, he never wanted to deal with her.

“Listen, I was thinking maybe later we could get a burger or something –“

Max spotted Liz at her locker and waved a hand in Tess’s direction.  “I can’t talk right now.”  Without further ado, he walked away from her.

Liz was swapping books for her next class.  Max couldn’t resist stopping at her locker and he hated himself for being so weak.

“Um, hi, Liz.”

She looked up, startled and Max thought he saw her eyes narrow.  “Hi, Max.  You know, I’m in a hurry.”

“Yeah, me, too.  Just wanted to say hi.”  He stared dumbly at his shoes.

As Liz reached into her locker and pulled out another book, an envelope fell to the floor in the process.  Max retrieved it and she nearly ripped it from his hand.  He blinked, stung, but decided to let it slide.

“You working tonight?” he asked lamely.

Liz’s brow was furrowed in confusion as she ripped open the envelope.  Max couldn’t see, but she’d discovered two tickets to that night’s Eels show and a hand-written note from Alex.  He’d surprised her with concert tickets.  She broke into a wide grin, then looked back at Max.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “What did you say?”

Max’s shoulders sagged.  “I, um, just asked if you were working…”

Liz looked at the tickets and shook her head, tried to contain her glee.  “Doesn’t look like it.”  She slammed her locker shut.  “See you later, Max.”

And just like that, she left him standing alone in the hall, jilted.

Part Three

Michael Guerin was on a mission.  He’d had enough.  He’d had enough of games and mind-warpers and stubborn, stupid adolescent crushes.  It needed to stop.  Now.

Michael’s boots clacked loudly against the pavement, echoing his rapid steps in the late-evening air.  Max had totally rejected Tess, hadn’t even had time to give her a moment to speak with him.  And it was all because of Liz.  Everyone on earth – in the universe – knew that Liz Parker was over Max Evans, that she was never coming back to him no matter how many pitiful little attempts he made to regain her affection.  Everyone in the universe knew that except for Max.

Well, it was Michael’s duty to set Max straight.  When Tess had shown up at the apartment upset, rejected, Isabel had been there to console her.  But Michael had watched them silently, then simply walked the door.  He didn’t ask to use either of their cars – he was pissed enough to walk all the way to the Evans house without it being a burden.  The time and space only compounded his anger.

Michael rounded the house, stepped over Mrs. Evan’s roses – after all, it wasn’t her fault her son was a moron – and punched in Max’s window.  The window swung on its frame, shuddering with the impact.  Max was sitting at his computer.  Michael didn’t think he even jumped at the sudden intrusion.

Michael stomped over to him and stood above him, chest heaving.  “It has to stop, Max,” he spat.

Max’s dark eyes were round.  He blinked a couple of times, scratched his head.  “Excuse me?”

“This ridiculous little song and dance you are doing with Liz Parker.”

Max sighed and started to turn his back on his friend.  “Good bye, Michael.”

Michael reached down and grabbed the back of the chair, whirled it around so that Max was facing him.  “Don’t turn your back on me.”  There was more than just a little threat in his voice.  “You need to pull your head out of your ass, Maxwell, and get to what is important, what is real.  Liz is not real.  She’s history.  Getting home, finding out who we are – that is real.  And like it or not, you are a part of that.  You are one of us.  Not one of them.”

Max’s jaw was clenched as he listened to Michael’s tirade.

Michael let out a snort.  “Some king you are, Max.  You have absolutely no concern for what your responsibilities are.”

“My responsibilities?”  Max tossed his pencil onto the desk, perhaps a little harder than he intended, and it skidded off his stack of papers and fell behind the desk.  “To what?  To whom?”

“To your people.  To your family.”  Michael paused.  “To me and Isabel and Tess.”  He paused again, then leaned in close.  “You have two days, Maxwell.”

Max snorted.  “Then what?”

“Then you are going to find out what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a hostile overthrow.”

Liz stood before her mirror, examining the outfit she had chosen for the concert.  Keeping herself busy.  It’s what she always did when she’d had a close encounter – just keep moving, keep the mind from thinking about it.  She sighed and dropped her hands to her sides.  For some reason she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

She’d sensed him coming up beside her.  She had built-in Max radar, it seemed.  Every cell in her body became alert, almost drawn to every cell in his body.  Silently, she had wished for him to just keep walking, but he hadn’t.  He’d stopped and wanted to talk.

Thank God for Alex and the tickets.  She could concentrate on those tickets instead of those dark, incredible eyes pleading with her.  Liz wasn’t sure of the last time she’d looked Max directly in the eyes – she couldn’t bear what she saw there.  So much hurt, so much anguish, so much love.

She didn’t want to think about the love part.  Sitting down on her bed, she picked her journal from the nightstand.  She opened her pen and flipped to that day’s page, but stopped before she put pen to paper.  She hadn’t allowed herself to do this in a very long time, but she took a deep breath and flipped back a few months.  Many months.  A year.  To a time when she was falling so deeply in love she didn’t think she’d ever be able to crawl out of it.

November 1, 1999

I’m Liz Parker and I am turning into a giggling little twit.  I feel like I’m walking on air!  I’ve never felt like this before, so free, so light…so infatuated!  And I love it.  God, I passed Max in the hallway today and I just got a little whiff of his cologne and my knees went weak!  I’m still fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss him – given the whole ET factor and all.  I dream about it.  I know it’s going to happen some day.  I know it.  And I’m tired of waiting!  For the love of God, Max, admit you love me and kiss me!!

Liz smiled wanly and touched her words with her fingertips.  Kissing Max.  Yeah, it had been an absolutely unbelievable experience.  Mind-blowing.  And he was such a gentle lover, always looking out for her comfort.  Max was a sensitive guy.  Those were few and far between.

And that sensitive guy was meant to marry someone else.  Someone like him.  Someone he had already married once, in another life time.  Even if Max did still love Liz and Liz still loved Max, she wasn’t qualified for the job.

A single tear slipped down Liz’s cheek and she immediately hated herself for it.  She hadn’t allowed herself to grieve in a long time – she thought she was done with it.  But now she wondered if she would ever be done with it.

“Liz, Alex is here,” came Mrs. Parker’s voice from the bottom of the steps.

Liz wiped her tear away.  “Coming,” she called as she slid the journal back on her nightstand.  She stopped in front of the mirror again, checked her make-up, forced herself to smile.

At the bottom of the steps, Alex waited patiently.  She smiled widely at him and gave him a hug.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she said as she pulled away.

“Hey – I like music, you like music.”  He winked at her and led her out to the car.

The show was at a small venue and Alex had been able to obtain front-row seats.  He was a complete gentleman, holding her hand when the really sad songs started, putting an arm around her shoulders.  When “Jeannie’s Diary” started, he pulled her to her feet and danced with her, held her close.

How does our world spin

Without me in her nest

Could there really be

Such happiness

Alex pulled Liz closer, circled her small waist with his hands.

Oh, she's got a dark side too

Even murderous

But I love that

Just like here

Liz felt Alex lay his head against the top of hers.

I don't have a chance at writing the book

I just wanna be a page

In Jeannie's Diary

One single page

In Jeannie's Diary

“Just one single page,” Alex sang against Liz’s ear.  Liz swallowed.  It seemed like an eternity since anyone had held her so close, close enough that she could feel their breath against her skin.  What was happening?

She could have anything she wants

So why not me

She could have anything she dreams

Oh, to be one single page

One single page

One single page in Jeannie’s Dairy

When Alex spoke next, his words weren’t sung, they were simply spoken.  “You could have anything you want, Liz.  Why not me?”

Liz pulled back and looked up at Alex’s formidable height.  His eyes were gentle, creased at the corners from his smile.