I wonder what came over me yesterday. It was so strange, I thought I was invincible...or the next thing to it, anyway. I took the most foolish chances. I'm lucky to be alive.
The rush as I used my telekinesis on those agents was intoxicating. And to think, Max has had these abilities since childhood. No wonder he, Michael and Isabelle feel responsible for all that happens around them; the feeling of omnipotence overwhelms your good sense so quickly! He's so much more grounded now. I'll have to ask him what the source of his strength is. I'll have to keep this in mind in the future. I can't run into gunfights like that!
Now, just like a roller coaster, I've rushed from the top of the hill to the bottom. I feel the paranoia enveloping me; I have to fight it off. If we lose the ability to trust, we'll lose the ability to ever feel at peace again. I can't allow that to happen to any of us.
=====================================================================
Isabelle was crooning softly as she wiped tears from Jesse's face with her fingers, then crushed him close in another desperate hug as she kissed him. Max could understand their feelings. The thought of Liz being stuck in a White Room with the FBI for days made him feel ill and almost dizzy. But they couldn't spend too long here. They had to assume someone got word of their assault out to the rest of the FBI. They couldn't be here when reinforcements came.
He was concerned about Jesse. He felt fine to Max's healing power, but the drugs coursing through his system were confusing and a little worrisome. He didn't know what they were, but they seemed powerful - even brushing by them with his powers was disorienting. He wondered how Jesse was even able to tell up from down with all that crap in his veins.
Max stifled an impatient sigh and looked around the room. Maybe there were things here he could take care of while Jesse and Isabelle recovered...then they could leave more quickly when Isabelle was able to get him to his feet. There was a man slumped against the wall in a long white lab coat. His eyes were fluttering. Max strode over too him. There was a thin stream of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. Max gingerly reached out and touched the man's arm. The man opened his eyes wide and whimpered. His eyes, already far open with pain, bulged with fear as his gaze centered on Max's face.
Max hurriedly raised his force field behind his head, blocking the man's ability to get a clear view of the room. He wouldn't be able to kill this man in cold blood; in fact, his intention was to heal the man enough to keep him from dying before paramedics could get here. But he couldn't let the man get a good look around either. He had to keep the others safe.
And idea suddenly struck him. Max assumed a stern expression and hardened his voice. "Do you have anything you want to tell me?" he whipped out, bringing his hand up slowly in a threatening gesture, even though he only meant to heal the man. Why reveal his good intentions when bad ones might give them vital information? The man closed his eyes and whimpered again. Max almost stopped the charade right then. He placed his hand on the man's head with the intention of making sure the man's wounds weren't mortal and sending him back into unconscious bliss, but the man bit back a scream as Max's hand made contact.
"Alright! Alright...you...win." The man coughed. "It wasn't my fault...I didn't want to use the ICS! I swear! They made me!"
Max was exploring inside the man's body already, so his attention wasn't fully on their conversation. "Why should I believe you?" The man had a lot of broken and cracked bones. His lungs had been punctured by one of his broken ribs. That had to be fixed, or the man might drown in his own blood. Max concentrated on pulling out the bone with as little pain as possible.
He must have failed; the man began to yell and struggle. "No! No! Don't kill me! I swear, they made me! I would never have used it on a U.S. citizen otherwise!" Uh-oh, Max thought to himself, that didn't sound good. Max sighed. He couldn't prolong this man's pain any longer.
"Don't worry," he said as he brought his other hand up. "You won't be feeling that pain much longer."
The man must have misinterpreted his words. He screamed, "No! You wouldn't! I told you!!!" As Max's other hand came down on his chest to finish healing the tear in the man's lung, the man gasped and fainted dead away. Max was annoyed that the man so severely misinterpreted his actions, but he was relieved he could dismiss the force field. He repaired the man's lung and stood up, weariness beginning to wash over him. The adrenaline must be wearing out, and now the last couple days of stress and action were beginning to wear on him again.
Michael caught his eyes as he scanned the room, then pointed down at his feet. Max couldn't see what Michael was pointing at, but he opened the door next to the demolished one-way mirror and went into the other room. Michael was standing over the body of a woman agent. Liz was on her knees by the woman, holding a large piece of the woman's suit jacket, wadded up, to the woman's leg. There was blood all over, and Liz's face was grim. "Isabelle shot her," Michael said.
"And a good thing, too," Kyle's voice came from the far wall, where he was rummaging through a desk along with Serena. His voice was tight, and his face was pale. "She had me down and was going for her gun."
Max looked at him. He seemed to be fine, but: "She had you down? Are you alright, Kyle?"
Kyle's pale face blushed red. "Yeah. She, uh, kneed me. I'm fine now." Max winced in sympathy and spared Kyle the embarrassment of any more inquiry. Michael's face was momentarily amused, then the worried expression returned. He knelt next to Max.
"Maxwell, we have to talk."
"Hey Liz, is it bad? About what, Michael?"
"Yeah, Max, I think it nicked an artery. I'm putting a lot of pressure on it, but it's still bleeding heavily."
"Isabelle. When we came in here, she went nuts, Max. And her eyes..."
"Keep the pressure on it, Liz. I'll try to make sure she doesn't lose more blood. What about her eyes?" He shot Michael a glance before returning his full attention to the woman's leg.
"You remember her eyes when she was taken over by Vilandra, Maxwell?" Max concentrated on knitting the walls of the woman's artery back together, sparing only the tiniest piece of his mind for his conversation with Michael. "Yeah, they were black and creepy. What about it?"
"They did that again during our fight in here, Maxwell. I swear, God's honest truth. They were big and totally black. I was freaked out, Maxwell. She was throwing bullets and bodies around like they were nothing."
Max's attention jerked back to Michael, then he cursed as he felt blood begin to seep out of the woman's leg again. He hurriedly repaired the woman's artery, winced as he saw the gunshot wound through the palm of her hand, and turned his attention back to Michael. "She was stronger, like she was that time?"
Michael nodded. "Yeah."
Max glanced over at his sister, still solicitously urging Jesse to his feet. "She seems to be fine now."
"I noticed her eyes during the fight. She was screaming like that time when you were dead, and those crazy eyes.." Michael shuddered. "But the second she got to Jesse, she was back to normal. We've gotta watch her, Maxwell. Something's weird."
Max considered healing the woman's hand, but stopped himself. Liz was injured, and he might also need his healing for Jesse and Kyle. He couldn't waste too much strength on his enemies when his friends might need him badly. He'd stabilized her, that'd have to be enough for now. He stood. "Okay, Michael. We'll have to all keep an eye on her." He shook his head. "I don't know what else we can do." Michael looked annoyed, but just nodded. It was obvious from his face that he realized Max was right, even though he wanted to do more. Max looked around. "Anyone else need to be stabilized before we get out of here?"
Maria walked up. Her face was a little green. "No. That guy, Michael knocked unconscious, but he seems to fine. The other guy...I don't think there's anything even you can do for his hand, Max, and he's not bleeding much." She swallowed with difficulty and pointed behind her without looking. Max peered around her and saw what she meant. The man's arm was in bad shape, but the burns had cauterized the wound. There was nothing Max could do for the man. He was nearly overwhelmed by a sudden paroxysm of guilt as he thought of the body he'd left outside. This man was nothing compared to what he'd done to that other agent. Max shuddered, but suppressed his feelings. He didn't have time for guilt right now. He knew it'd catch up to him later tonight, but for now he had to hold himself together. A small hand suddenly ran down one arm, causing a different kind of shiver. Liz was standing next to him, smiling, worry in her eyes for him. How did she know? He reached down, snagged her other hand and squeezed it. He caught her quick intake of breath and remembered her arm. He leaned in to lay his hand on the shallow crease that ran along the bottom of her upper arm, but she shook her head and whirled away.
"I'm fine, Max. You can worry about that later." She turned to look at Kyle and Serena. "What are you guys doing?" she asked with a slightly raised voice. Max followed her over. Serena raised her head and pierced them both with her fierce green eyes.
"This computer. Can we take it with us?"
Max eyed it dubiously. "It's too big, I think." Serena nodded as if that was the answer she was expecting and began ripping cords out of the back. "Hey, hey, what are you doing?" Serena turned the tower around after she got the last plug out and began pulling on the case.
"A little help? I'm going to take the hard drive."
"What?"
"Look, Max, you guys are awesome, but you really don't seem to plan ahead very well." Serena's voice was brisk and matter of fact. She ignored the stares and gasps the others gave her and plunged ahead. "You've rescued Jesse. That's great. It's unbelievable, really. We wouldn't have been able to do it with my friends. But that's a very short-term goal."
Max looked at Liz, confused. She simply shrugged and looked back at Serena. "What do you mean?" Liz asked.
Serena shook her head. "You're thinking well, tactically. But you need to think strategically as well." More confusion. Serena was trying to undo the screws holding the tower case on with her keys, and having very little luck. Max leaned forward and used his powers to begin loosening the screws. Serena looked from the moving screws to Max, then back to the computer again. "Thanks." She twisted the loosened screws and pulled them out, then began removing the case cover. "Getting Jesse out isn't the only thing we can gain from this. Look around you!" She looked at them expectantly. Michael shrugged, Max and Liz looked at each other again. Maria pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes as something occurred to her. Then Max noticed Kyle pointing down at the file folders he was straightening out.
"Information about the Special Group?" Maria asked.
Serena smiled. "Exactly! And not only do we gain information we need, but we may also be denying important information to our enemy!" She stopped fiddling with the computer for a second and scrabbled through the papers on the desk. After a second of searching she held up a sheaf of papers with a triumphant grin. "This! Look! Handwritten notes! I bet the majority of these haven't been given to the rest of the FBI yet...they look like the first drafts of reports. We have to take all this information with us, not only to learn from it, but to deny it to the government." She tugged on the case of the computer tower, finally dislodging it and dropping it unceremoniously down to the floor. "This is more information. I'm sure it's encrypted, but we'll have plenty of time to try to crack it. I know some people who are pretty good at it." She poked around in the computer, digging through cables and unplugging things. She came out with a metal box and sneezed as dust bunnies whirled around her. "Excuse me," she said, shaking her head violently and brushing the dust away. She put the box down on the desk and then began piling the papers on the desktop into neat piles. "Speaking of tactics, how are we getting out of here? And what do you want to do next?"
Max looked back at Jesse, who was finally standing unsteadily on his feet, leaning heavily on Isabelle's shoulder. His feet were bare, they would get cut on all that glass. Isabelle seemed to realize it at the same time. He watched pieces of glass skitter across the floor and come to a rest against the walls, opening a safe path for Jesse. "We can't take off right away. We're exhausted, and Jesse's in bad shape. It might also make the FBI think we've already left if we lie low here for a few days."
Serena nodded. "Have you considered whether anyone else you know is in the same danger Jesse was in?"
Max looked at her carefully. "Yes. I'm worried. But everyone else is all together. I'm hoping their high profile, and the fact that they're watching out for each other will keep them safe for a while."
"I wouldn't count on it. Not after you've demonstrated your power here. They're going to seek to get any hold on you they can. Our ability to rescue someone from a small, hastily constructed interrogation area isn't all that fearsome...but your ability to track Jesse down so quickly-the fact that you even knew Jesse needed rescuing-this will be very worrisome to them." She looked down. "If you're not going directly to your friends or family to get them out, you have to warn them somehow. They won't have long to get out before the government comes for them."
Liz grabbed the front of Max's shirt. "Maybe we should just fly out of here. They can't be covering the airport yet. Let's fly back to Arizona and get our parents, Max."
Serena looked doubtful. "You may be able to get to your family out, but they'll be able to follow our trail for sure then...and all of my ids will be compromised. How will we get them out? Where will we put them? It'll be like the witness protection program, their old lives are lost forever."
Maria looked at Max with worry on her face. He felt another stab of guilt. It was all his fault-his and Isabelle's and Michael's-for messing up everyone else's lives. He shook his head and jerked himself out of his self-recrimination. Now was a time to think. He didn't think it was a good idea for them to take off right away for Roswell. The FBI would be able to trace their movements, he was sure, and he didn't want to give them any information to follow if he could help it. Besides, everyone, including him, was exhausted. Another chase across the country wasn't possible. They were all so tired, they were bound to make stupid mistakes. If they could get word to their families, Valenti would be able to keep everyone safe, and Isabelle might be able to get them word. He turned to look for his sister.
Isabelle was just guiding Jesse through the doorway, into the main room. He blinked and looked around, his eyes staying on the bodies of the unconscious FBI agents for a few seconds before roaming around the rest of the room. Max looked at Isabelle.
"Would you be able to dreamwalk Valenti, and warn him about what's happened with Jesse, and tell him to get our parents, Liz's parent, Maria's mom and himself out of Roswell?" he asked without preamble. Isabelle blinked in surprise once, then nodded thoughtfully.
"Yes, I can do that. It's a good idea. After tonight, I think the government's going to double their efforts to find us." She looked sad. "Where will they go? What will we do? We're stealing their lives from them."
Serena was gathering up CDs into piles on the desk. "My friends may be able to help them. But the important thing is to get them out, first. We can take care of the rest once you know they're safe." She looked at the piles of paper, data CDs and the hard drive. "We have to get all this stuff to the car, we can't leave it behind."
Maria nodded. "I'll drive the SUV up to the door. You guys bring that stuff and Jesse to the door and we'll get out of here." She took off at a run.
A new sense of urgency overwhelmed Max. He'd been worrying about the FBI or military coming for them, but someone had surely reported the shots fired by the agents outside. Who knew when the police could show up. He looked over at Michael. "You should go with her, just in case there's trouble waiting outside." Michael nodded and jogged off after Maria. Everyone except Isabelle gathered up armfuls of paper and hurried toward the door while Isabelle urged Jesse along. Max's heart sank down to his shoes as the got close to the door. Maria and Michael were there, the SUV running and ready to take off, but he could see flashing lights and sirens coming their way. Isabelle wasn't to the door yet; Jesse was moving slowly, and she was unwilling to risk hurting him to hurry him along. His mind raced.
"Can you change the color of the car? And make the license plate look like it reads some other number?" Serena yelled over the now deafening sound of sirens. Liz dropped the files she'd been holding on the floor of the vehicle and turned back, running into the dark building. Max nodded at Serena and quickly changed the color of the SUV to silver, then ran to the back of the vehicle and touched the license plate. His mind raced for a random collection of letters and numbers, but he came up with nothing. Finally, desperate, he settled on ABC 123, feeling very stupid about it, but figuring it was generic enough not to give anything away except his lack of imagination. The cars were in sight; he didn't want the police to be able to recognize him. He ducked back behind the SUV and placed his hands on the windows, tinting them dark. He glanced over his shoulder. No sign of Liz, Isabelle, or Jesse. What was taking them so long?!?
"Michael!" he yelled over the racket of the police cars. "Blow out their engines! I don't want us to have a car chase when they finally get here!" Taking his own advice, Max held out his hands and concentrated on the approaching vehicles. If he crippled the ones in front, they might block the ones behind long enough for him to blow their engines up too. A thought struck him, and he grinned at Kyle. "You might as well try to do it too, Kyle. You did a pretty good job when you didn't mean to."
Kyle looked embarrassed, but also eager, and he turned toward the window, holding out his hands and gritting his teeth. Max knew he might not be able to help, he might not be capable of projecting his telekinesis that far yet, but it was worth it anyway to see the answering grin on Kyle's face. Max concentrated on the closest car, imagining sparks flying, hoses cracking and belts splitting. For good measure, he tried to flatten their tires too. He heard four simultaneous pops, and then the saw smoke pouring out from under the hood. He moved his attentions to the next nearest car as the first slowed to a stop. Another car exploded in flames. Max wondered whether Michael or Kyle had done that, but then turned his thoughts to more important things...like wondering if the cops were going to shoot at them. He abandoned disabling the cars and concentrated on building a force field big enough to cover the side of the car.
Where the hell was Isabelle?!?
Sweat broke out on Max's forehead. The field was too large. He wouldn't be able to hold it much longer.
"Max!" Liz's voice was sweet music to his ears. "We're almost there, hold on just a bit longer!"
"Hurry! We're going to be surrounded soon!"
Two more cars stopped their advance. There was only one left. How had five police cars been called here in the first place? Max wondered. Hackles rose on the back of his neck. They must know there was something special here, or they would never have sent this many cars to investigate reports of a shooting. They had to get out of here quick, before the police or FBI was able to cut off all avenues of escape.
A small breeze brushed by Max, and he looked to the side. Liz and Isabelle were carrying Jesse. It looked like he'd collapsed completely. They wrestled him into the car with help from Serena. The loud report of a bullet being fired echoed against the walls of the surrounding buildings as everyone piled in.
"Get in, Max!" Liz called, grabbing his free hand and yanking him in. Serena reached around him and closed the door as Maria's foot slammed down on the gas. Max tried his best to keep his force field between the cops and their vehicle. Liz's hand on his wrist lent him strength and love long enough for them to begin pulling away from the police.
"Isabelle," Max muttered, "or Michael. Get that last cop car...then change the car color back to normal." Max's peripheral vision was gray and foggy, only when he concentrated could he see clearly. Liz's grip on his hand tightened.
"Let go, Max. We made it. You can stop now."
With a weary sigh he released the force field and collapsed gratefully into Liz's waiting arms.
*****
"No, no, I said right at the light!"
Maria ground her teeth. "You did not! You said left, I heard you!"
"No I didn't. Just - just turn around and go the other way. I think I remember a motel in that direction." Michael was so annoying when bossed her around. She wasn't an idiot. Just because she didn't have alien powers-Maria shut off her train of thought before she completely lost her temper. None of them had had a full night's sleep in days, and everyone was stretched to the limit. Her fingers tightened on the wheel but she bit her tongue. One more word out of him, though, and she wouldn't be responsible for what she did.
Serena's hand snaked into her peripheral vision. She was leaning in the space between the driver's and passenger's seats, ignoring her and Michael's spat. "There, that looks promising up ahead." Maria glanced over at Michael out of the corner of his eyes. He had an insufferable smile on his face as Serena's finger pointed out a flickering motel sign ahead.
"I don't see any sign of anyone following us," Liz's voice was muffled from the back seat where she held Max. "The traffic seems normal, and I don't see anything that looks suspicious." Despite her comforting words, her tone was still concerned. "Do you think they found out anything about us?"
Serena's voice faded as she turned around to speak with Liz. "Michael already changed the color of the car by the time the cops got close enough to see us. That green thing Max makes was in front of the car too. We should be okay."
"I'll have to change the license plate back the minute we get out of the car is all."
"But we have to return it to the original. Won't they be able to trace it to the rental agency?"
"No, Max changed it the second we got out of the building to something else. They won't be able to trace the car. At least, not in any way I know of."
"What about the satellite stuff we were worried about?" Liz still sounded worried.
"That's why I picked an SUV that's a dark color. The streets aren't too well lighted," Michael said. He leaned back in the passenger seat and stretched out with a satisfied smile as he placed his hands behind his head. "I'm getting pretty good at this stuff."
"Satellites can't pick up what they can't see. But they might be able to enhance the photos to follow our path," Serena sounded a little concerned. "Maybe we should find some covered parking somewhere and change car colors again before choosing a motel. It's after 1a.m., but Boston's a big city. There should still be enough traffic. If we drive into downtown Boston and switch, it's almost impossible for them to find us in less than a week. And we're going to need at least two nights to rest before we can start running again."
Maria sighed and kept her foot on the gas as they drove by the motel Michael'd spotted. She'd been looking forward to some rest. "Which way to downtown?"
Liz's voice came forward faintly. "Don't you think you're being a little too paranoid, Serena? Maria knocked out power on a number of blocks, and we weren't speeding when we came out of the blackout area. Our car was already a different color than the cops would be reporting. Shouldn't we be fine?"
Serena's voice was calm. "We could be. But what we did tonight...breaking into a building held by FBI agents, the powers and abilities you used...they're going to go nuts when they see it. Who knows how many agencies they're going to call in to help? They might just decide to follow every car that comes out the blackout area with satellite photos. When they see ours stopped at a motel, we're going to be at the top of their list of suspicious characters. I want to make it more unlikely they can follow us to our destination."
Maria chimed in. "You can't be too careful. Jesse's going to need time to recover, and we have to think of a good way to get out of here. I bet the airports, trains, busses and highways are going to be tightly watched. Every bit of extra caution is probably a good thing, Liz."
"Yeah." Liz's voice was tired. "I guess so."
Michael was rifling through the U.S. atlas they'd bought in Chicago. "Massachusetts, Massachusetts....ah!" He reached up. "Turning the map light on, Maria," he said as he flipped the switch. Maria squinted and muttered under her breath as the light ruined her night vision. "What road are we on?"
Maria watched for a sign. "Revere Street."
Michael was silent for a moment. "There! Okay, follow this, past the American Legion Expressway to Broadway. Can you believe these names? Then, uh...it twists and turns, and it looks like it becomes a bridge that'll take us into downtown."
"'Looks like'? This does not inspire me with confidence."
Michael flicked the light off. "It'll be fine. I still think we should've stopped at that other motel, though." He yawned hugely as he bent forward to put the atlas in the glove compartment.
"Hey! Hey, what are you doing? I don't know Boston! You keep that thing out, you have to help me navigate here!"
Michael sighed and got the atlas out again. "This is going to be a long drive, isn't it?"
Maria allowed a tone of warning to enter her voice. He'd better not mess with her-she wasn't in the mood tonight. "If you keep on like this it is, buster."
*****
"Are you sure this is okay?" Liz sounded nervous.
Serena just smiled. "Yeah. This card has a high limit. I'd rather have used cash since the card can be traced to our flight, but I think the cash would have made them remember us way too much."
"But two suites! And downtown! How much is it a night?"
Jesse stirred again, and Isabelle's attention snapped back to him. "Jesse? Are you alright?" His brow was furrowed, and he seemed to be sweating. Isabelle put her hand to his forehead with a frown. He didn't feel too warm to her, but their body temperature was a little higher than a human's. "Serena?" Isabelle raised her voice so Serena could hear her over Liz's worrying. "Could you feel Jesse's head? He looks warm."
Serena and Liz both stopped talking. "Can't you check yourself?" Serena sounded more curious than unwilling.
Isabelle sighed. "Your body temperature's a little lower than ours. It's hard to tell." She looked at Liz. She wasn't sure exactly what Liz was now, or what her body temperature was. Serena looked at Liz too as she walked over toward Jesse and Isabelle. Liz cleared her throat uncomfortably.
"Um...well...yeah." She looked desperate for something else to say. "Uh, I'll go look for Max. He should be here just in case Jesse's temperature is high." She left the suite, being careful to close the door behind her.
Serena had the back of her hand resting on Jesse's forehead. "Well?" Isabelle struggled to keep her impatience out of her voice. She knew she'd been impossible to live with lately. She was trying to tone it down. She reached for Jesse's hand and massaged his fingers, letting her anger ebb. "Does he have a fever?"
"He might...if so, not much of one. He's not much warmer than my hand." Serena looked at her. "Can you tell what's been done to him? He's not injured, is he?"
Isabelle felt her throat tighten. "No. No, I don't think they did anything to him physically, except not let him sleep and fill him with drugs. He was able to walk, he was just weak." She felt rage bubbling below the surface and struggled to hold it down. "I don't think he had enough food or water either." She felt Serena's eyes flick over to her face and then back to Jesse.
"If that's the case, we have to give him all the liquids we can." Serena sounded concerned. "Fruit juices, maybe tomato juice, and soups. He's already had a rough time. Rehydrating him will help." Serena stood. "I'll go see if any of the vending machines have anything promising. You should check room service too." Isabelle jumped as a hand rested on her shoulder. She turned her head. Serena seemed nervous to be touching her, but determined. "Don't worry, Isabelle. He'll be okay. He seems strong."
Isabelle felt her throat tighten. She forced a nod and a smile that must have looked strange. Serena nodded back and turned to leave. Isabelle reached out with her other hand for Jesse's and squeezed it tightly as she fought for control. The mood swings had to stop. She had too much to do to indulge in them. When she felt herself begin to calm she sniffed and wiped her eyes. Serena's advice was good. Soup was a good idea. She stood and went over to the room service menu by the telephone, looking for anything promising. She heard the door behind her before she'd even found any soups on the menu.
"Iz?" Isabelle turned as Max came into the room and walked over to the bed. "You think he may have a fever?" He picked up Jesse's hand and placed his hand on Jesse's head. "What did Serena say?" Liz came into the room behind Max, standing next to him and resting a hand on her shoulder. Max turned his head a fraction and a smile seemed to flicker across his lips before he became serious again.
Isabelle was so wound up she couldn't even read. She handed the menu to a nonplussed Liz as she walked around to the other side of the bed and grabbed Jesse's other hand. "Serena said he felt a bit warm, but she wasn't really sure if he had a fever. She did mention dehydration, though. She's looking for something for him to drink. I was looking for soup or something for him, but..." Isabelle couldn't bring herself to look directly at Liz or Max, or ask Liz to find something for Jesse to eat. For some reason, the thought of seeing sympathy for her in Liz's eyes was unbearable. When had she become so weak?
"I'll find something, Isabelle," Liz assured her, and left the room with the menu. Max was concentrating on Jesse.
"How is he, Max? He's been unconscious or sleeping ever since we got out of there. I'm starting to get worried."
"I can't really tell, Iz. The drugs are still in his system. They're so strong that they even confuse me when I try to heal him. I'm nearly tapped out myself, as well. As far as I can tell, he's just tired and confused." Max looked frustrated. "I think Serena's suggestion is good, though. Getting some food in his system will bring his strength back up, but it might also dilute some of these chemicals." Isabelle nodded, still holding Jesse's hand tightly. "Isabelle," Max's voice sounded gentle and concerned, "we need you to do something else right now." She looked up at Max. "You have to warn everyone back home to get out of Roswell. Our parents, Liz's parent, Maria's mom, and Valenti have to leave, hopefully tonight. What we did tonight-the FBI is going to consider what we did tonight an act of war. They're going to react strongly. If they get our parents, who knows what they're going to do to them. And after our rescue of Jesse, they're going to be a lot less kind, I think."
Isabelle looked at him. "Kind? You call this kind?!?"
Max looked back at Jesse. "Compared to what they could have done, yes. They were getting ready to dissect me alive, Isabelle, when you dreamwalked me in the White Room and told me to tell them I could make the communication orbs work. They didn't hurt Jesse, although they didn't treat him well. I think the gloves are about to come off, though." Max looked at her. His voice was unsteady. "I don't want Mom or Dad to suffer because they were kind and took us in all those years ago. I couldn't live with it. I know you couldn't either. We have to get them out of there, and you're the only safe way we have to contact them."
Isabelle closed her eyes. "I know. You're right Max. I'm just so...unsettled. I can't seem to pull myself together, the last couple of days."
"It's been a pretty horrible last couple of days." Max rested a warm, strong hand on her shoulder. It seemed to renew her strength a little. "But we have to-you have to do this tonight, Iz. We have to give them all the time we can."
Isabelle straightened herself with a deep, shuddering breath. He was right, they had to move quickly. She gently disengaged her hand from her husband's and stood. She walked over to the door. Max followed her into the main room of the suite, leaving the door to Jesse's room open. Kyle was sitting in the corner of one of the couches, mouth open and eyes closed. He was already asleep. Serena was just entering the room with a bottle of grape juice. Liz looked up at them from her seat next to the phone, then jerked her attention back to what was being said on the other side. Michael and Maria weren't in the room, that she could see.
"This is the best I could find," Serena said, handing the bottle of juice to Isabelle. "I was hoping for orange juice, but it's something."
"Thanks. How long do you think that's going to take?" Liz's voice distracted Isabelle for a second. Isabelle turned back to Serena and forced a smile.
"Thank you. I appreciate it." She looked down at the cold bottle of juice in her hand, her mind momentarily blank. Max took the bottle from her hands.
"I have a-uh-favor to ask, Iz." She looked up at her brother. "Do you know...is it possible that I could join in the dreamwalk? It'd be good to see Mom and Dad. We never had much of a chance to talk to them those last few crazy days in Roswell." Isabelle looked over at Kyle and remembered their day of mischief. A faint flush suffused her features. "Yeah, that's not a problem. You can come with."
"Can I too? When you talk to my parents?" Liz's voice was eager. "I'd like to make sure they received my diary...and destroyed it properly." Isabelle nodded, slightly surprised at the eagerness in Liz's voice. Liz smiled. "I've ordered some tomato soup for Jesse. I figured it'd be better we start off with something all liquid. A stew or vegetable soup might be too much trouble to start off with. They said it will be here in about fifteen minutes."
Isabelle nodded again. "Thanks, Liz. I guess, if we're going to do psychic phone calls, someone should get Maria. I'm sure she'll want to talk to her mom as well."
Liz grinned. "Great idea! It'll make Maria so happy to talk to her mom for a bit! I'll go over to the other suite and get her!"
"Get Michael too, Liz. We might as well be together for this." Liz walked out across the hall. Isabelle went over to the couch and plopped down on it heavily. The sudden motion woke Kyle.
"Huh...wha...?" He blinked and closed his mouth as his hand rose to rub his eyes. He turned his head. "Isabelle?" She looked at him expectantly. "What is it?" He looked around the room.
"We're going to contact our parents and tell them to get the hell out of Dodge. I assume you'd like to go along for the ride when I dreamwalk your father?"
Kyle's face suddenly looked carefree as a grin stretched his mouth wide. "You mean it? I'd love to talk to him! Thanks, Isabelle!"
Max pulled a chair from the breakfast nook up to the two of them and sat down. "We should contact Valenti first...he's going to need time to get things together." The main door opened and Liz entered again, Maria and Michael in tow. Michael was yawning and his hair was disheveled. Liz or Maria must have awakened him. He looked pretty disgusted with the whole matter.
"What'd you need me here for, Maxwell? I was finally getting a little rest." Maria punched him in the arm. "What? I know you want to talk to your mom, but I don't need to talk to anybody. And I sure as hell need to sleep."
"We're going to talk to everyone about getting out of Roswell. We have to choose, do we meet up with them, or trust Serena's group to help them out? They can probably lie low for a couple of days without much help, but we'll have to make a decision quickly. I didn't think you'd want us to make that decision without you."
Michael flopped down on the loveseat across the room with a groan. His eyes kept falling closed. "No, I guess not. But I don't think we should make any final decisions tonight. I know my brain's not working."
Isabelle sighed. "We're all exhausted. Should we all be in the dreamwalk for Valenti? I've only done this with one other person, but it shouldn't be too much harder to take everyone."
"Sounds good, Iz." Max looked over his shoulder at Serena, who was standing nervously in the middle of the room. "Why don't you join us? You and Valenti should meet each other."
Serena tried a tentative smile that failed quickly. "Uh, what do I have to do?"
Kyle had already reached out to touch Isabelle's hand. Liz gave him a quizzical look and sat down on the floor next to Max. She reached out and touched Isabelle's hand as well. Isabelle smiled as kindly as she could. "Just touch my hand. It should work fine. I'll insert us into Valenti's mind. It's after eleven, he might even be asleep. That'll make it easier." Everyone gathered around and grabbed one of Isabelle's hands. She pictured Valenti's face in her mind and reached out for him.
Everything was whirling out of control. Isabelle was nearly thrown off her feet, but Max steadied her as she staggered to the side. Isabelle shook her head.
"Uh-oh..." Kyle sounded sad. "I recognize this feeling. I think Dad's gone and gotten himself drunk."
Isabelle winced as a wave of nausea washed over her. Someone beside her groaned. "Definitely drunk," Liz said. "I recognize this feeling. Ugh."
Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "Humans try to feel like this on purpose?"
"Wasn't a bit what it felt like to me," Michael's deep voice seemed to waver in the unsteady atmosphere.
"That's because you fell unconscious about ten seconds after downing that drink," Maria said. "You should have known better."
"I don't remember what I felt like," Max said. "And now I've very glad of it." His legs were far apart as he attempted to steady both himself and Isabelle.
"It's not to feel nauseous so much," Serena sounded a little amused by the inability of Isabelle and her brothers to deal with Valenti's confused mind. "You feel like you can do anything. Usually happy. And it dulls emotions too."
Isabelle's hands clenched Max's arm tightly as a particularly violent heave nearly made her lose her footing. "I can see why. You're too busy feeling like shit to feel anything else."
Kyle was walking forward. "Dad! Dad! Where are you? I don't see him. Do you?"
Isabelle gathered her scattering wits and looked about her. "No, which is weird. Dreamwalking always brings me right up to the person."
"Yeah, we were right by Miss...er...that girl when we did this before."
"What's this?" Maria sounded curious.
Kyle looked forward, hiding his face from the group. "Oh, nothing," Kyle wasn't very good at lying. He kept moving forward. "Dad! Hey, Da-AAH!" He suddenly pitched forward.
"Kyle?" Serena ran forward unsteadily. "Are you all right?"
Kyle was getting back up as the rest of the group made their way toward him. "Yeah, fine. I found Dad." He was lifting a heavy weight. As Isabelle walked up she saw he was pulling his father to a sitting position. "Dad, Dad," Kyle shook his father. "Wake up."
Valenti's eyelids flickered. Isabelle could actually see his eyes slowly bringing Kyle's face into focus. As he recognized his son he started grinning. "Kyle! It's great to see you, son. Just great. Great..." Valenti's eyes started closing again.
Isabelle cursed under her breath. "Max, he's not going to be able to do anything in this state. Can you do something?"
Max sighed. "I'd better try. I think you're right. But I don't have a whole lot left in me." He reached out and placed a hand on Valenti's head. "I don't know how well this sort of thing works in here, you know." He closed his eyes tightly. Isabelle felt a splitting headache for a fraction of a second as the heaving world around them calmed down. Then everything seemed to be clear.
Someone was groaning loudly. Isabelle heard a rustle of cloth and a thud and opened her eyes. The world around them behaved as it was supposed to. Valenti was leaning against Kyle and Isabelle realized the groaning sound was coming from him. Max was slumped at her feet. "Max! Are you okay?" Liz was already down at his side. Isabelle heard him mumble something. Liz looked up at everyone. "He's says he's fine...just tired."
"Kyle! Kyle! It is you! But...where are we?" Valenti was rubbing his head and wincing, but his mind seemed to be clear. "You guys shouldn't be here! It can't be safe!"
"Dad, it's okay. We're not really here. Isabelle's dreamwalking all of us. We needed to talk to you."
"So this is dreamwalking. Amazing. Will I remember this?"
Isabelle crouched down next to him. "You should, now that Max cleared your head." Valenti cleared his throat self-consciously. "We need your help."
Valenti straightened up and began to pull himself to his feet. "Sure. Of course. Anything. I'll do whatever I can." He scanned the group, and his eyes centered on Serena. His eyebrow rose in an unasked question, but he didn't say anything.
Liz was pulling Max to his feet. Isabelle lent a shoulder to help. Liz caught Valenti's signal. "This is Serena, Mr. Valenti. She's helped us a lot. We'd be in a lot worse trouble if it weren't for her help."
"Worse trouble? What trouble are you in?"
"Jesse left Roswell soon after we did."
Valenti nodded. "Yeah." His eyes flickered over to Isabelle. "I guess he had a job offer out in Boston, and decided to take it, the situation being what it is."
"The FBI took him in for questioning." Liz's voice was flat and angry.
"What?"
"Isabelle felt his panic when he was taken. We tracked him to Boston, and-"
"Wait a minute. How in the world did you track him? You can't sense location on those things, or you would've found that poor girl who was buried under the dirt those years ago more easily."
Kyle cleared his throat as everyone's eyes centered on him. He turned pink. "Uh...I did that, Dad."
His father turned to look at him. "What?"
Kyle looked at Liz, then back at his father. "You know about Liz's new powers, right?" Valenti nodded, comprehension washing over his face. "I have them too, now. Other than the occasional green explosion, I can sense the location of things. Isabelle's dreamwalks. Liz's premonitions." Kyle looked nervous as he watched his dad's expression. His father reached out and silently hugged him. Kyle managed to look embarrassed and relieved at the same time.
Max began to speak. Weariness seemed to ooze out of his pores as he spoke. "We traced him to where the FBI had set up a makeshift interrogation room in Boston, with Kyle's help. We've managed to get Jesse out of there, but we killed at least one agent and wounded many others in the process." He paused for a second, so tired he looked on the edge of collapse. Isabelle threw a significant look at Michael over her shoulder. He nodded and stepped up next to Max. His hand glowed for a second, then Max suddenly stood up straighter. "Thanks, Michael. Anyway, we're pretty sure the government's not going to react well to what we did tonight."
"Are you guys okay? How's Jesse? Do you need money or-"
"No, we're fine. But we want you and all our parents to get out of Roswell. Tonight's got to frighten them. They're going to come after us in every way they can. That includes coming after you. And after we freed Jesse, I'm frightened of what they're going to do to you if they capture you."
"We came to you first. You're going to have to hide well. We figure the full might of the government's going to come crashing down on you soon."
"I can't hide us from the FBI indefinitely, Max. You know that, right?"
Serena stepped forward. "That's where I can help."
"Who exactly are you?"
"My father and I have been running from the government since I was young. There's a...network of alien hunters out there." Serena grinned. "Who knew I'd be joining up with some? We need you to get out of Roswell and hole up somewhere safe for a few days. I'll get my friends to try to set up a place for you to go."
Valenti looked relieved. "A few days is possible. We'll have to use cash and find someplace to hole up. How will we contact your..."friends", though?"
"You won't have to. We will. And we'll contact you this way again. It's the safest way." Max looked sad. He held out his hand to Valenti. "Thank you, Mr. Valenti. I'm sorry to put you through this. We seem to always mess up your life."
"Don't worry about it, Max." Valenti covered Max's hand for a second with a crooked grin on his lips. "You're one of the good guys. I know that."
Isabelle felt a wave of fatigue run over her. "We have to go, guys. I've got a few other stops to make, and I'm getting tired."
Max nodded. Valenti hugged Kyle close again, the looked at Isabelle. "Tell the others not to call. I'll go over and visit. I assume we're all bugged, face to face is the only way we should talk."
Isabelle nodded. "I understand. I'll tell them. I'm sorry, we have to go now." Isabelle brought her mind back to it's accustomed residence, inside her own head, and slowly blinked open her eyes. The others were shaking their heads and looking confused. She supposed it must be disorienting. She'd been dreamwalking for so long it was almost second nature to her. She looked at Maria.
"Valenti would probably go to your mom first," she said when Maria looked a little recovered. "Let's give her some warning." Maria swallowed and nodded. She held out her hand and Isabelle snatched it up. "Are you ready?"
"Yeah." Maria smiled. "I can't wait to see her, even if it's just for a bit."
Isabelle closed her eyes and concentrated. She felt an instant connection. This seemed to get easier every time she tried it. She squeezed Maria's hand and opened her eyes. "We're there, Maria."
Maria let go of Isabelle's hand and ran forward to her mother. "Mom! Mom, it's me!" The dream around them faded into mist before Isabelle even had time to register it. Maria's mother whirled around to face Maria, a smile lighting up her face.
"Maria! Oh, baby, it's so good to see you!" Walls were building themselves up around them as Amy DeLuca hugged her daughter. Isabelle took a step forward into the room as a wall began coalescing around her. They were standing in a close approximation of the DeLuca kitchen. Amy DeLuca released her daughter and looked at her critically. "You look so tired, honey."
Maria was smiling. "I'm fine, Mom. It's great to see you. But you're not dreaming, you know. I'm really here." At Maria's words the world shimmered around them. Maria's mother's face looked uncertain.
"What do you mean?"
"You're dreaming, Mom." The house fell into rubble around them. Maria grabbed her mother's hand and held it tightly. "But don't worry, Isabelle and I are really here."
"I-I don't understand."
Isabelle stepped forward, used to dealing with people's dreaming minds. "Did Liz's father explain things to you, Mrs. DeLuca? About Max, Michael and I?"
Maria's mom stared at Isabelle with wide eyes. She nodded silently. "Yes. Liz's diaries. He showed them to us before burning them." She reached out blindly and yanked Maria to her side. "So, this is one of your...er...psychic powers? What was it called, ‘dreamwalking'?"
Isabelle nodded and smiled. "Yes. We've come to warn you, Mrs. DeLuca. You may be in danger. All of our parents may be in danger."
Maria tightened her arms around her mother. "We're safe Mom. But the FBI took Jesse. We just got him out. We're worried they'll come after you next."
"We've already asked Jim Valenti for help," Isabelle continued. "He'll probably be coming over soon. We need you to get out of town and hide out for a couple days. Don't call him though. Your phone may be bugged."
Maria looked at her mom with a serious expression. "You have to be careful. No credit cards, only cash. You can't attract suspicion. You have to be careful about people identifying the car too. Mr. Valenti will know what to do. We're trying to find a more permanent solution." Maria hugged her mother close again. "Wake up, Mom, and get ready. Take care of yourself."
Mrs. DeLuca hugged her close and smiled tearfully. "There you go, trying to mother me again. We'll be fine, honey."
Isabelle reached for Maria's shoulder. "We have to go. Liz's parents are next."
Maria nodded silently and stepped back from her mother. "Okay."
Isabelle pulled away from Maria's mother's mind and opened her eyes back in the hotel suite. Maria took a second, so Isabelle gently disengaged her hand from Maria's and turned to Liz. "Which parent do you want to talk to, Liz?"
"Dad. I sent him the diary, and he's been so worried about me."
"Alright. Take my hand. Try to keep it short, Liz. I've got to go to our parents too, and I'm on my last legs." Liz nodded in understanding. Isabelle closed her eyes and pictured Liz's father. As she tried to make contact, a wave of exhaustion nearly overcame her. She struggled to maintain her balance through it, and suddenly knew that they'd entered Liz's father's mind. Isabelle sank down to the ground with a moan and sat there for a moment.
Liz's urgent voice whispered in her ear. "Isabelle, are you alright?"
Isabelle nodded. "Just tired. I'm going to sit here for a bit. You explain the situation to your father, okay?"
Liz patted her shoulder and stepped away. "I'll be right back." Isabelle let herself flop back to lie down, staring up at the indistinct dream sky. The grey and dark purple cloud colors suddenly brightened. Isabelle turned her head as she heard Liz's voice. Her father must have seen her.
"Liz! Are you alright? We've been so worried about you!" Liz's mother was standing next to him. Liz looked over her shoulder back at Isabelle quizzically.
"No, Liz, he's dreaming. That's not really your mother. Just keep your dad's attention and explain the situation."
Liz turned back to her father. "I'm fine, Dad." She winced as she stretched out her arms to hug him. He pulled back and took a look at her arm.
"Is that blood I see? What happened to your arm?" Her father's voice was sharp with concern.
Liz smiled. "It's fine, Dad. Just a graze. Max will heal it in a bit. Did you get my journals, Dad?"
Jeff Parker looked up from Liz's arm. "Yes. I read them to the others and then we burned them, as you wanted." He looked down at the ground, then up at her again. "The things in there sound so crazy, but they explain so much about what's been happening the last couple years. And about you and Max..."
Liz looked down now. "I hope you're okay with the fact we got married. I never wanted to disappoint you, Dad, but I have to live my own-"
"Don't worry about that, honey. I just wanted to protect you. I guess you're past that, now." He peered around his daughter at Isabelle. "What's been happening? Everything can't be alright if you're injured and Isabelle's so exhausted."
"That's why we came, Dad. The government kidnapped Jesse. They were interrogating him for information about us. We just rescued him."
"What? Why are you wasting time here with me, then! They'll be after you, you have to hide!"
"We're okay, Dad. Really! What we're concerned about now is you!"
"Me?"
"All of our parents. We're afraid they're going to take you guys. We...there's no easy way to say this. We injured and even killed some FBI agents to get Jesse out." Liz swallowed. Her hands turned white, she gripped her father's hands so hard. "They're not going to let this go. We couldn't leave Jesse in their hands. But now we've placed you in immediate danger too."
Jeff Parker was looking from the bullet wound on Liz's arm up to her face in horror. "Were they shooting at you?"
Liz shook her father. "I'm fine. Really. It barely touched me. Max would never let anything happen to me. You have to be concerned for yourself." Her father opened his mouth to protest, but Liz shook him. "No! I mean it! We contacted Mr. Valenti. He's going to get you all out of town. Don't call him. He'll come to you. You're going to have to hide out for at least a couple days. We're working on a more permanent solution, but we have to get you out of town tonight. You probably don't have much time."
Mr. Parker closed his mouth and stood rigid for a moment, then nodded woodenly. "I understand. Thank you for warning us, honey."
"I have to go, Dad. Isabelle still has to contact her parents." Her voice was thick with unshed tears. She gave her father one more quick hug, then ran back over to Isabelle. She held out her hands. "Here, Isabelle. Let me help you up."
Isabelle gratefully took Liz's hand and pulled herself to her feet. As she rose, she felt a little strength returning. Liz was sweating a little. She must have been trying to transfer energy. Isabelle smiled at her.
"Thanks, Liz. Are you ready?"
Liz nodded, and the world around them shimmered away.
A stranger was in the room. Isabelle looked at him as Liz swayed a little from her seat on the ground. Max caught Liz's shoulders with his hands, and Isabelle's gaze with his eyes. "Room service. Soup for Jesse." Isabelle started to rise, but saw that Serena was already walking up to the man. She handed the guy a tip with a smile and murmured thank you, then carried the soup back into the bedroom. "Serena will take care of it right now, while we're warning our parents."
"I can't get them both, Max. Mom or Dad?" Max thought about it a bit. Isabelle broke in. "I think Dad would be best...he's more likely to listen to what we have to say. Mom's going to want a blow by blow account of what we've been up to. I don't have the strength for that."
Max nodded. "Sounds good. I guess we should get going." He placed his hand in hers. She closed her eyes and searched for one of the first faces she'd ever known, other than Max's. The transition was sudden, and she was standing in a playground filled with children. Max silently pointed. Their father was pushing a young girl on a swing set. Isabelle recognized an eight year old version of herself and tried to swallow back a lump in her throat. Max squeezed her hand and walked up to their father.
"Dad. Over here." Max's voice was gentle. Isabelle wiped some threatening tears from her eyes and followed him to her father's side. Their father looked at them blankly for a moment, then comprehension washed over his face.
"Max! Isabelle!" He crushed them both close, one in each arm. "How...what are you doing here?" The playground and children around them were slowly fading into mist as their father's attention became absorbed with them.
"Dad," Isabelle clung to him for a moment. She remembered how she felt when she was young. Her father could always take care of every problem. If only she could go back to that total childhood trust.
Max began to pull out of the embrace. "Dad, we have a problem."
"Is it about...um, about...your heritage?"
Max nodded. "Yes. We're worried the FBI could take you and Mom into custody. We'd like you to leave town."
"They won't try anything, Max. I'm a lawyer. They'd better know better than to try to-"
"Dad!" Isabelle broke in before he could get started. "They took Jesse!"
"What?"
"They took him and pumped him full of drugs and questioned him, Dad. We've just rescued him. But we're scared they're going to come after you now. Please, Dad, you have to listen!"
Their father opened his mouth, but then closed it again and looked off into space as he thought. He slowly nodded. "All right. I guess we can leave. But surely the FBI's going to find us eventually, especially if they're ignoring normal legal procedure."
"We've already contacted Mr. Valenti. He used to be the sheriff, he'll be able to keep you below the radar for a couple days. Don't use the phones. He'll come over. Only talk in person. We've got some friends that we hope will be able to hide you after you get away." Max looked down at the ground. "I'm sorry, Dad. We've ruined your life. And after you and Mom took us in and loved us."
Isabelle buried her face in her father's shoulder. Max was going to make her lose it if he didn't stop that! She felt her father's hand run through her hair. "Don't worry about that. We love you. We are your parents. And your mother and I would never dream of changing the decision we made when we adopted you."
Max nodded, speechless. Isabelle raised her head and took a step back. "Thank you, Dad. And be careful. We're going to find a way to settle this so you can return to your normal life."
Her dad just smiled and leaned forward and kissed Isabelle on the forehead. "Take care, honey." He shook Max's hand. "And you too, son."
Max waved. "Bye, Dad."
"Bye."
Isabelle brought them back to the hotel room. When she opened her eyes she stood up and stumbled to the bathroom without a word, slamming the door shut behind her. She sank to the floor, her back against the door, and began to sob. What were they going to do? How could they make this right again?
*****
Kyle felt delightfully lazy. It'd taken almost fifteen minutes of luxuriating in a comfortable bed with real pillows for him to even get his eyes open. Actually getting up seemed beyond him. He turned his head and looked around the room.
Michael's bed was already empty, his clothes thrown haphazardly on the bed and dresser. The window curtains were closed most of the way, but the sun that shone through the crack between curtains was bright and made a beeline for Kyle's head. That's what had initially awakened him. He turned his head to get the glare out of his eyes and listened. He could hear the soft, muffled sound of conversation through the closed bedroom door. The smell of fresh eggs suddenly intruded on his attention, and Kyle involuntarily sat up. They hadn't eaten last night, and his stomach was screaming for food.
The prospect of breakfast spurred him more than anything else could. He threw off the sheets and changed into his last clean set of clothing. They'd better do laundry sometime soon. He opened the door and stepped into the suite's living area. The door to the girls' room was open, but they didn't appear to be in there. They weren't in the living room either. The conversation he heard was some random movie on TV. Michael was slumped on the couch, his feet on the coffee table and a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on his lap. Kyle's mouth watered.
"Hey. When did breakfast get here?"
"Hey yourself," Michael muttered around his mouthful of eggs. Kyle flopped down on the couch next to him. Michael seemed determined to do everything wrong as long as he could get away without nagging from Maria. "It gets here about fifteen minutes after you call room service."
"Isn't that awfully expensive?" Kyle's eyes roved the room. He hadn't noticed where the phone was last night. "Besides, why are we using Serena's credit card without worry?" There it was, on a small table by an uncomfortable looking chair in the corner. "We used all of her cards to get the plane tickets. They'll be able to figure it out, won't they?" Michael kept eating, but shot Kyle a look and seemed to be considering his question. Kyle looked around the room again. "Where is the room service menu?" Michael lifted his feet off the table, and Kyle saw it under his feet. He leaned forward and snatched it off the table just as Michael's legs came back down.
"Serena and Maria got the suites, each with a different card. That's why we're on different floors, we didn't want it to look like we were together." Kyle was looking through the menu for a promising choice, but he listened to Michael with a portion of his attention. "The FBI will probably trace everyone, but I don't think we look particularly suspicious. It'll take them a while." The only decent looking meal was probably the same one Michael was eating. Kyle stood up and walked over to the phone. Michael held up his hand and examined it. "I think I'm going to have to do something about our fingerprints. We weren't really careful about that last night. If they examine our rooms here, even days later, they may make a match."
Kyle dialed room service and ordered breakfast for himself, then hung up and stretched out on the couch again. "We didn't really touch much, last night. The few things we did touch, like that one gun Isabelle picked up, were melted out of recognition or somehow destroyed."
Michael shrugged. "I'm sure the FBI will be able to pick up more than you think." He stirred his remaining eggs around on his plate uneasily. "They're going to put all their resources into it after last night."
Kyle really couldn't come up with anything to say after that. An uneasy silence hung over the room as they both pretended they were watching the TV. Kyle was saved by a knock at the door. He jumped up and walked over to the suite door. "Who is it?" he asked through the closed door.
"Room service, sir."
Kyle felt around in his pockets, and realized he didn't have money for a tip. "Shit! Michael, you have cash for the tip?"
Michael waved his hand with a total lack of concern. "It's added to the bill already, said so on the bottom of the menu."
Kyle sighed with relief and opened the door. The eggs and bacon smelled unbelievably good. He smiled at the guy who brought it up and practically snatched the plate away from him. He walked back to the couch. It was nice to relax, without the girls around to bother them about their manners. Michael sighed, satisfied, and put his plate down on the table with a clatter. He probably felt the same way. Kyle shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth and rolled his eyes. They were wonderful. "So," he muttered as he ate, "where are Maria and Serena? Have you talked to the others yet this morning?"
Michael snorted. "I figured the girls would spend the whole morning talking about chick stuff. I'm just happy to get the chance to vegetate for a while."
"Any word on Jesse?"
Michael shook his head. "Nothing. I figure they'd come get us if he woke up, but who knows?" He was staring at the TV. "Are you watching this shit?"
Kyle's eyes flicked to the TV screen. Some home fix-it show. Why the hell was Michael watching this? He glanced over at the clock on the wall. The hour had just changed. Kyle shook his head as he shoveled more food into his mouth. "No," he said between bites. "Not into fixing houses. Maybe if it were a car show..."
"Maybe I can find some movie involving gratuitous sex and violence one of the movie channels." Michael started flipping through channels.
"You know," Kyle said as he realized something, "the prospect of watching explosions and gunfights on TV isn't as interesting when you're dealing with it in real life."
"Yeah, sucks, doesn't it?" Michael toyed with the control some more. "At least we got a little time to rest. Though we'll have to think of a smart way to get out of town." He threw the remote down on the coffee table in disgust and began to pace around the room. Kyle kept his attention on the important thing - breakfast. "We can't take the rented car out of town. We can't go near the bus stations, train stations, or airports with a ten foot pole."
"Maybe Serena has an idea," Kyle offered. How could he relax with Michael so uptight? "You should ask her." And get out of my hair, he thought.
"Maybe. But that's another problem. I don't like the way we're relying on her. Can we really trust her yet? We don't really know anything about her, and right now she knows a lot about us."
"Hey, she told us she was the granddaughter of that army dude you knew."
"Yeah, Dodie. But maybe that was a set-up," Michael started.
"That doesn't make sense. You and that guy were the only ones who knew what went on during your conversation. You never wrote all that crap up in your history paper, right? No one would have any reason to come to you with a story about being the granddaughter of Dodie."
"We can't just trust her with our lives because of one fluke!"
"We already have." Kyle chased the last few bits of egg around his plate. "I'm not saying we give her everything, or completely drop our guard. But we've trusted her with enough to get us killed three times over already. I mean, if she's some sort of spy, wouldn't the FBI know about her credit cards? Do you really think they'd have allowed last night to happen if they knew where to find us?" Michael shook his head. He still looked a little frustrated, but relieved too. Kyle put down his plate with a satisfied sigh. "That was perfect. I'm going to go take a shower-unless you need the bathroom?"
"Nah, go ahead."
Kyle had just turned when the door flew open and Maria burst her way in. "Isabelle's worried! Jesse still hasn't awakened, and his fever is getting bad! Max is trying to wake him, but he says something really wrong! I think you'd both better come!" Kyle threw a longing look over his shoulder before rushing after Maria and Michael.
"Can you wake him? Can we find out what's wrong?" Isabelle asked as the three of them arrived in their bedroom. She was a mess, her hair disheveled and dark rings under her eyes. She didn't appear to have changed her clothes, either. And here Kyle had hoped recovering Jesse would restore her to normal. "We've been giving him water and soup, but he only wakes up enough to swallow it. And he just keeps getting warmer!"
Max was leaned over Jesse's bed, and his hand glowed bright with energy, but there was no noticeable physical effect on Jesse. Liz's hands were on his shoulders, supporting him. Kyle looked around. "Where's Serena?" Liz looked up at him for a second and tossed her head toward the other bedroom. The door was open. Kyle walked over and poked his head in. "Hello? Serena? You in here?"
"Over here, Kyle." She was sitting at a small desk piled high with the handwritten reports from the makeshift interrogation room they'd raided.
"What are you doing?"
"I can't really do anything for Jesse. So I thought I'd look through the FBI papers. Maybe they did something to him."
"Any luck?" Kyle looked, but there wasn't another chair for him in the room.
"No, but I've only gone through these, and then I've only given them a few looks, no in-depth searches."
Kyle arrived at a decision. "I'll help you. Give me a second." He snatched a chair from the breakfast nook in the suite and dragged it up to Serena's. "You have any idea what we're looking for?"
Serena shrugged. "Not really. The first thing I'd like to find is a doctor's record. They had to have someone with medical knowledge there for the interrogation. That will give a good idea of what they may have done to him."
Kyle picked up the next piece of paper on the unread stack. "So I'm looking for medical stuff. Okay." He started to read the paper. It seemed to be administrative information. He didn't even see anything about Jesse in it. He placed it on the read pile and picked up another sheet. "Do you have any idea of what they may have done to him? From your-er-group's experience?"
"I would suspect some sort of drugs were involved in the interrogation. He didn't appear to have been beaten or otherwise injured." Serena's voice was a little unsteady. "I assume they hadn't gotten to that point yet. It's good we came when we did."
"Would their truth serum do this to Jesse?" Kyle asked. "That sodium pentagram stuff in spy movies?"
Serena looked askance at him. "Sodium pentothal?" She looked uncertain. "I don't think so, though I guess it's possible. They use a lot of other stuff in interrogations, though, Kyle. Sodium pentothal is the least of them."
"What do you mean?"
"They've been using very pure forms of marijuana and LSD for years. Who knows what other drugs they may have that I don't know about? I'm not a doctor or a chemist, I only have the tiniest bit of knowledge about this stuff." Serena picked up a few papers and rifled through them. "Any of those drugs, administered often enough, in large enough doses, would at the very least screw him up. Maybe even addict him. This could just be drug withdrawal, for all we know."
Kyle was infected with her sense of urgency, and grabbed a few sheets himself off the unread stack. He was puzzling his way through a paper with particularly bad handwriting when Serena gasped and dropped the papers she was holding. Kyle bent over in an attempt to catch them, but his hand missed. Serena impatiently kicked her chair back and crouched down to gather the sheets up. Kyle placed his own handful down on the small desk they'd been using and turned to help her, but she was already standing. She shoved most of the papers into his arms. "Put these down. I think I found what I was looking for." She ran out of the room. Kyle repressed an urge to get angry at her attitude. They all dismissed him like he was useless. Sure, he was inexperienced and even a little dangerous with his new, out of control powers, but he did what he could. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he followed Serena's mad dash at a more reasonable pace. He hadn't asked to get involved in all this, but he'd done what he could to help out. He didn't deserve to be dismissed, ignored, or used as a pawn. Isabelle's attitude the last couple days had especially worn on his determined good humor. Even Buddha's advice wasn't helping to curb his sudden burning resentment. He felt a scowl darkening his face as he stomped into the bedroom.
"But what does that mean?" Liz asked. She and Max were looking at Serena. Max's eyes were half closed and his face was haggard. Jesse's eyes were open and a little more aware. Isabelle was hovering over him, holding his hand in a death grip as she murmured to him. Her attention was not complete, however. Her eyes keep darting over to look at Serena. Michael was holding a worried Maria. Kyle leaned against the doorjamb and did his best to stifle his resentment and listen.
"I don't know." Serena sounded frustrated. Her hand shook and her eyes were staring intently at the paper it held as if will alone would make its words clear to her. "The notations are all abbreviated. But they're talking about the drugs they used in the interrogation. And this," her hand pointed to an underlined note. Kyle was too far to read it but he could see the handwriting was darker and more emphatic where she was concentrating. "This indicates that one drug was used in small quantities, then larger and larger doses. The doctor here noted down his objections to the dosages being used, but the agent in charge of the interrogation ordered it." She squinted. "He calls the drug ICS. He never says more." Serena kept reading for a few moments, then snorted in annoyance. "Not here, anyway. I'll keep looking." She glanced up. "But for the kind of objections noted here, there's something dangerous about the doses of this drug given to Jesse. I don't know if there are side effects or addiction issues or what. But we need to find out." She looked at Jesse, and Kyle couldn't help but follow her gaze. Jesse seemed disoriented and unfocused. It was obvious he wasn't absorbing their conversation. A small smile wafted over his face as his gaze wandered toward Isabelle's face. Kyle felt the last dregs of his anger and resentment dissolve as Isabelle buried her face in her husband's chest. He heard a small sound escape her throat and ached to hold her, to help her somehow. The fact that he couldn't suddenly made it hard for him to breathe.
Liz stood up. "I'll help you look through the other papers, Serena. Maybe we'll find out more."
Max leaned back in his chair. "I can't get a handle on this, whatever it is. It's disorienting me whenever I try to help him. I don't know how long the effects of this drug would stay in his system, but he seems to be more strongly effected as time passes rather than less." He leaned forward and slapped his hand against the paper Serena was holding. "We need to find out what this is." He looked at his sister and brother in law, and clamped his lips together, as if holding back his worried thoughts might change the outcome of his efforts. He shook his head. "We should have tried to gather up what chemicals they had there...then we might know what this ICS stuff is."
Isabelle raised her head with a sniff. "The doctor was putting some stuff into his IV when we rushed the interrogation room. Some yellowish liquid. Maybe it was more of this ICS stuff." She wiped at the tear streaks on her face.
"I remember something like that...yeah, the doctor, when I healed him, mentioned something about the ICS." Max nodded to himself. "There's a good chance you're right, Iz."
Serena looked around the room. "I can keep looking through the papers we have, this might give us more. But I've looked through about a third, and this is the only thing I've found so far. I'll keep looking, of course, but we have to consider the possibility that I won't find out more."
Michael's face was stiff and set. He watched the room with eyes that Kyle suddenly found a little creepy. Maria was standing next to him with a worried expression on her face. "What about the hard drive and CD-Rs you took?"
"I don't have the equipment to hook up the hard drive right now. I checked out the CDs, but they must be encoded or damaged, I couldn't get anything out of them."
Kyle levered himself up off the doorjamb and turned back to the other room, his fit of pique finally cooling. He could help Serena look for more information on this drug. He glanced over his shoulder at Jesse. He seemed pale and his breath came in short bursts, almost as if he was gasping. Isabelle was watching him again. A heavy hand suddenly landed on his shoulder and he couldn't help jumping in surprise.
"Sorry about that," Serena said, a faint undercurrent of humor in her voice. "I didn't mean to startle you. Are you going to help me keep looking for information on this ICS stuff?" Kyle nodded wordlessly, and it crossed his mind that she looked gorgeous when she smiled. He watched her walk to the other room for a second, then shook his head and followed after.
*****
Michael watched the activity with narrowed eyes. It was good he'd parked so far away. The walk had been annoying, but there was no way they'd see the SUV and connect it to pictures from the night before. The power in the area was still out, for some reason. One stupid pole shouldn't take all night to fix. Maybe the FBI wasn't allowing the electric company into the area to fix the problem.
He felt a sudden jarring in his shoulder as something ran into him. He turned his head, his rambling thoughts coming back to the present. A large man had bumped into him.
"Sorry," the stranger said. His haircut looked almost military to Michael, as if the man had just started growing it out. His suspicions only sharpened as he noticed the man looking him over more carefully than a chance run in warranted. Michael was glad he'd taken the added precaution of changing his face and hair. He wished he'd made himself look taller or something as well, now.
"No problem," Michael said, trying to act casual. Maintaining a disguise that was just different from his own face, as opposed to looking exactly like someone else, was easier, but he could tell he wouldn't be able to keep it up forever. "What's going on, anyway? I'm still waiting for the power to come back. They're not giving any info on the news." Michael didn't even bother to try pulling off a Boston accent. He noticed the man he'd run into didn't either. He had to be an agent or something.
The man looked a little interested. "You live in the area? You don't sound like it..."
Michael forced a laugh. He wondered in the back of his mind why the guy didn't see through him at once. Or was that just his nerves? "I haven't been here long. Just moved here a few months ago. I'm sure I'll pick up the accent eventually."
"Yeah?" The guy belatedly put his hands in his pockets and tried to act casual himself. "Did you hear anything?"
"Are you kidding?" Michael made himself laugh again. "Gunshots, and a godawful racket, like a tree falling." He assumed a thoughtful expression. "Think that was an electric pole or something?" Would the guy take the bait?
"Could be." The man seemed eager again. "Do you recall anything else about last night?"
Michael barely restrained a disgusted snort. "Do you recall"? Who the hell spoke like that? The guy was falling for his story. "Yeah, yeah, there was something funny," Michael said as he quickly scanned the area. He'd been stopped only half a block from crime scene tape, and there was a narrow little alley just off to his right. Michael gestured toward the alley. "I saw something weird in here. I picked it up after this SUV came tearing outta there," he pointed toward the scene, "after midnight. I saw this flash. I'll show you where I picked it up." The man practically licked his lips in eagerness. Michael hid a grin and led him into the mouth of the alley. As soon as they were out of sight Michael whirled without another word and slammed the man into the wall with his powers. He caught the man's body and helped him down slowly to avoid any unnecessary noise, then studied his face carefully. He whacked him once more in the head to keep him unconscious for a while. He emptied the man's pockets into his own and strode out of the alley wearing the man's clothes and face. He wouldn't be able to do much about his voice, though. He'd have to consider working on that in the future.
He got little more than a cursory glance from the men along the perimeter of the crime scene, and was grateful he'd been able to avoid having to speak. Now if only he could hold onto his luck just a bit longer...
He came to an involuntary stop as he walked up to the building. The number of people gathered here was staggering. There was a large group to one side of the building, and another bunch of people gathered where the SUV had picked them up, crawling carefully along the ground with weird sensors, chemicals and stuff Michael couldn't even recognize. He couldn't prevent a momentary twinge of worry. That much concentrated manpower would have to be able to track them down eventually, wouldn't it? Michael realized he'd stopped moving and forced himself to walk forward confidently. He had to find that chemical Isabelle had mentioned. It'd be near medical people probably. Michael scanned the area for hints as he rounded the corner of the building.
There was a sea of translucent tarp in front of him, tents of it. There were some hospital type smells coming out of it, so he took a bracing breath and went in.
The smell was enough to make his stomach churn. He felt himself turning green as he saw the - the THING on the makeshift table. Max had mentioned he'd burned a man, but this...
He forced himself to scan the room, half in search of any amber chemical that looked promising, half to distract himself from the ruin of a human body before him.
"Can I help you?" a young woman asked. Michael stood there for a moment like an idiot. Her eyes were bright green, and her skin was so milky white that her freckles stood out in stark relief. What was cute girl like her doing with dead bodies? He restrained a shudder. She looked at him in sympathy. "You didn't see this before, did you, sir? It's pretty gruesome."
Michael coughed and made his voice sound raspy, hoping it would disguise the fact that he wasn't who he looked like. "I'm confirming that all the ICS has been...accounted for. I wasn't sure where to find that out, so I thought..."
She came to his rescue. "Oh, yes. That wouldn't be here, sir, That would be over in our supply truck." She helpfully pointed it out to him. He nodded and backed away with only a wan smile by way of thanks. She seemed used to his reaction, and turned back toward the body as he left. He'd found out where it was, now he just had to get his hands on it. He briefly considered trying to find more information about this drug, rather than just a sample, but he could already feel the strain of holding his disguise. His time was limited. There didn't seem to be anyone near the supply truck, not even a guard. Michael couldn't believe it would be this easy. Every step made him more nervous, and he was convinced each step would bring someone shouting "Stop!", but no one noticed him.
He ducked into the truck. It was lined with shelves full of bottles with liquids and pills, and a cabinet that appeared to be locked. Michael looked carefully for any sign of anyone, but the truck appeared to empty of both people and video surveillance. Michael was aghast. Why weren't they watching anything?!? It had to be a trap! Maybe it had been stupid to come here on his own without telling anyone. But Max was exhausted from healing Jesse, and Isabelle was hopeless now too. He was the only one left who could do anything. Michael stood there for a moment trying to control his sudden bout of fear and doubt. Inexplicably, Maria's face appeared in his mind. He closed his eyes and thought about her for a minute, imagining her by his side, giving him advice - or maybe, in his less charitable thoughts, ordering him around. Somehow it calmed him. He opened his eyes again. Maybe it wasn't a trap. The perimeter security had been very good, with a layer of undercover agents in front of the crime scene tape, and then all the agents watching behind the lines as well. Maybe he hadn't been detected. And if he had...well...there was nothing he could do about it now. He quickly began scanning the shelves, but saw nothing labeled "ICS" or anything that might have those initials. Finally he came to the locked metal cabinet. He'd already been in here five minutes, and he could feel the sweat running down his back. Time was short. But he couldn't face going back to the hotel room and listening to the scolding he was going to get from Max, Isabelle, and Maria without doing everything he could to find the damned chemical first. He held his hand up to the lock and tried to be very careful in his manipulations. There was a faint click and he reached up to open the door, but it didn't budge. He pulled harder, wondering if it was stuck, but it still wouldn't move. In frustration he blew the hinges of the door off the cabinet. The metal plate swung from the un-hinged side-that's when Michael noticed the latch on the side. He bit back a frustrated curse and looked through the cabinet, being careful about leaving his fingerprints on anything.
He was about to give up the entire mission when he spotted a mid-sized bottle in the back, almost the size of a liter bottle of soda. The label on the front said "Interrogation Conditioning Serum". Michael held it up to the light. The glass of the bottle was brown, he couldn't see the color. He frowned and opened the top carefully, then poured a drop onto the lid. A yellowish orange colored liquid rolled around on the lid. This must be it. Michael carefully closed the lid and looked around. There was a small cooler big enough to place the bottle in. He looked back at the cabinet. There was no time to erase the evidence that he'd been here. He just had to get out of here quickly. He walked with all the confidence he could muster toward the nearest edge of the crime scene. The agents looked at him oddly. He could feel sweat pouring down his face. He reached up to wipe his brow and smiled weakly at them.
"I was getting hot. Grabbed something to drink," he rasped, again hoping to disguise his voice enough to escape notice. One of the agents grinned and motioned him through, though the other still watched him carefully. It was all Michael could do to keep his pace steady and relaxed until he had a chance to duck out of sight around a corner. Now to get to the hotel. Michael let his face melt back to normal and strolled back toward where he'd left the car.
=====================================================================
Max, Michael, and Isabelle. Their parents. Maria, Kyle, Jesse and I. Our parents. And Alex, always Alex. How many must pay in blood, sweat and tears for our safety? As we draw together, and our circle shrinks, I can't help feeling fear. But it's not fair, and it's not right that such a price should be exacted from us. Max can't help being who he was born to be.
Maybe, if we can bring ourselves to trust again, things will start to work themselves out for us. I think our own fear is as great a danger as the stifling feeling of the government closing in on us. I can't help feeling that our willingness to take Serena in and believe in her is a sign that we're not giving in to our fears. And as we reach out next for help from her underground, I hope we aren't sorry we've trusted. It can all go wrong in so many ways.
So why do I keep feeling that it won't? Is it just my hope getting the better of me? Or another aspect of my precognition? Can I trust this feeling, or must I doubt it?
Who misplaced the alien powers manual?!?
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