by Greg Cox
"Just the same, everybody stick to the lighted trails," Maria insisted, clearly getting in touch with her inner Den Mother. "And, remember, if we get separated, everybody meet back at the elevator."Michael snorted. "Like I'm really going to be tempted to go exploring on my own." He regarded the surrounding stalagmites and such with a distinctly unimpressed air. "I mean, it's just a humongous hole in the ground. What's the big deal?"Maria pulled away from Michael, glaring at him bale-fully. "You know, you could at least try to have a good time, for my sake. Or would that spoil your whole image as a Rebel Without a Planet?"Hey, so I don't feel like oohing and aahing over a bunch of pretty lights and rock formations. Is that such a crime?" he groused. Slouched shoulders advertised his lack of enthusiasm for the entire expedition. "Give me a break. Lighten up."By now, Maria was fuming visibly. She turned on him angrily, green eyes flashing. "No, you lighten up, Michael Guerin, and another thing…!"Sssh!" a middle-aged tourist, wearing a souvenir Carlsbad Caverns baseball cap, shushed the teenagers, an annoyed look on her face. Liz blushed, embarrassed even though it wasn't really her fault, and even Maria and Michael looked a little abashed. They all lowered their voices as they hurried to catch up with their tour guide, who was now explaining why one particular formation was known as the Frustrated Lovers. Well, that's appropriate, Liz thought wryly, particularly where Maria and Michael were concerned.
Flashbulbs flared as a mob of tourists elbowed and jostled their way forward, trying to get a better view of the petrified Lovers. The one problem with hitting the caverns on a sunny summer weekend, Liz realized, was coping with the inevitable crowds. There seemed to be hundreds of people exploring the various caverns today, which made sightseeing a bit of a hassle. The crush of would-be spelunkers squeezed the small band of high school students together, making it easier to converse without raising their voices.
"You know," Alex remarked, now that he and Isabel were right next to Liz, "this whole thing is cool and all, but I can't help thinking that the public parts of the caverns have been domesticated too much. You've got paved trails, electricity, lights, guardrails, even waste baskets every fifty yards or so." To prove his point, he slam-dunked a wadded-up candy bar wrapper into the nearest convenient trash receptacle. "Don't you think it would be spookier and more atmospheric if these caves actually looked more like caves and less like an underground mall?"I see your point, Alex," Max said amiably, sounding more at ease than he had for weeks, maybe months. "Although I think there are some more caverns nearby that have been left in something closer to their natural state, for more serious cavers, and other caves that have barely been explored at all." He leafed through the guidebook in Liz's hands. "Yeah, it says here there's Slaughter Canyon Cave, Spider Cave, and some that don't even have names yet."Now there's an idea!" Alex enthused. "What do you think, Isabel?" He grinned goofily at Max's sister. The wiry would-be musician and the pristine prom queen made an odd-looking couple, but Liz had more or less given up trying to figure out their relationship. "Later on, you want to go looking for a cave of our own?" He wiggled his eyebrows, Groucho-style, trying to coax a laugh or smile from his glamorous (but emotionally elusive) dream girl. "Just you, me, and a couple thousand bats."I don't think that would be safe," Isabel responded, more or less missing the point. Although she dutifully held onto Alex's hand, her manner remained distant and preoccupied. "Why don't we just listen to the ranger^ lecture, okay?"Yeah, sure, that's fine, I guess," Alex muttered, disappointed once again in his never-ending struggle to get past Isabel's considerable defenses. Liz had to admire his persistence, even if she sometimes thought he was fighting a losing battle.
She sighed sympathetically, taking stock of the fracture lines dividing her friends. At the moment, it seemed as though only she and Max were making the most of today's excursion. That's too bad, she thought, squeezing Max's waist even tighter, but I'm not going to let Michael and Maria's problems, or Alex and Isabel's, spoil my own day with Max. After risking her own life and happiness to save the entire world from alien invaders, she figured she was entitled to be a little bit selfish, if only for just one weekend.
The park ranger, who obviously knew every nook and cranny of the King's Palace caverns by heart, led them deeper and deeper into the vaulted, subterranean chambers of Carlsbad Caverns. Despite the wool sweater she had prudently remembered to bring along, Liz found herself shivering slightly as the temperature within the caves dropped along with their elevation. Glancing at her wrist-watch, which read 10:45 a.m., she guessed that it was probably over ninety degrees back on the surface; eight hundred-plus feet below, however, it was noticeably chilly. Birr! Liz thought, wishing she had brought a jacket as well. (Then again, the unseasonably cool air did give her an excuse to huddle closer to Max.) After leading them in and out of the King's Palace, pausing periodically to take in such colorfully-named attractions as the Bashful Elephant and the Queen's Chamber, their guide dropped them off at the underground rest area near the elevator to the surface. "Well, I hope you enjoyed the tour," the ranger said. "If you want, you can now take the elevator back to the Visitors Center uptop, or you can take a self-guided tour of the Big Room." He pointed at a subterranean archway directly behind them. "If you haven't seen the Big Room yet, then you really don't want to miss it. We're talking one of the largest underground spaces in the world, spacious enough to hold over a dozen full-size football fields."Ooh, boy, an even bigger hole," Michael said sarcastically, eliciting a venomous look from Maria.
"Not as big as the one you're digging for yourself," she warned him. Ouch, Liz thought. She wouldn't want to be in Michael's shoes when Maria finally got him alone.
According to the guidebook, it took about an hour and a half to explore the Big Room completely, so they decided to take a combined snack and bathroom break first. Fortunately, a genuine cafeteria, complete with rest rooms and gift shop, had been constructed near the elevator, a mere 750 feet belowground. Liz waved good-bye to Max as the group temporarily split apart, each going in search of munchies or whatever. She wasn't feeling hungry just yet, so, after a quick trip to the ladies' room, she decided to browse a bit in the gift shop. Maybe I can find a nice gift for Max or my folks, she thought.
After growing up in Roswell, it felt odd to be in a souvenir store that wasn't packed to the ceiling with tacky UFO and alien knickknacks. Where were the inflatable E.T.s and cheesy "Take Me to Your Leader" postcards? Instead the underground gift shop traded heavily in rubber bats, cheap imitation kachina dolls, and a wide variety of overpriced, cave-related merchandise: mugs, ashtrays, pennants, souvenir spoons, snow globes, etc. Weaving her way through a pack of bargain-hunting tourists, Liz rifled through a rack of postcards near the front of the shop. One card in particular caught her eye: a color photo of some ancient Native American line carvings found just beyond the entrance of the cave. Interesting, she thought; a couple of the timeworn carvings vaguely resembled some of the alien symbols she and the others had discovered in caves around Roswell. Could there be a connection? She grabbed a copy of the card, to show to Max, and started to make her way toward the cash register. As she neared the checkout counter, an angry voice, coming from right up ahead, froze her in her tracks.
"Five ninety-five? For this piece of crap? What do you think I am, a moron?"No, Liz thought. Not him. It can't be.
The voice, deep and raspy, jolted Liz's memory like an electric shock. Shivering for reasons that had nothing to do with the temperature, she shoved her way through the throngs of shoppers to get a look at the voice's owner, ignoring the complaints and protests of the people she elbowed past. "Wait just one minute, young lady!" a woman in a Hawaiian shirt called out, but Liz wasn't listening. She had to see whom the irate voice belonged to, right now, this very minute. Standing on her tiptoes, peering frantically over the shoulders of a bunch of frustratingly immovable tourists, she spied the upset customer: a burly Caucasian man wearing a red vinyl jacket and a bright orange hunter's cap. Reddish-brown stubble covered his chin and jowls, while h
is broad, belligerent face was flushed with irritation.
Liz recognized him right away. Oh my God, she thought. An icy chill suffused her entire body and, without thinking, she clutched her stomach protectively. It's him. It's really him.
The man who nearly killed her…
The Crashdown Cafe, almost two years ago: It had all happened very quickly. One minute she was waiting tables with Maria, trading quips and gossip, when suddenly a loud argument broke out at one of the side booths. Two rough-looking men, whom Liz had never seen before, started fighting over money. Before anyone else in the diner had a chance to react or call the police, the heavier of the two men drew a gun on his companion, who grabbed onto the gunman's arm in self- defense. The two men wrestled for control of the pistol and then, without warning, the gun went off.
Standing a few yards away, near the kitchen door, Liz heard a tremendous bang and felt a sudden pain in her stomach, below her ribs. Before she knew it, without really understanding how she'd got there, she was lying on her back upon the cool tile floor, staring up at the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. The pain in her belly burned like fire, but the rest of her felt very, very cold. People shouted and Maria screamed, but the confused cries seemed to be coming from somewhere very far away. The icy numbness spread through her body, and somehow Liz knew that she was dying. Oh my God, she thought in a daze. I've been shot.
The fluorescent lights seemed to dim, and a murky darkness began encroaching on the periphery of her vision, blocking out the light. Something wet, warm, and sticky pooled atop her stomach, soaking through her uniform. Liz wanted to sit up, inspect her injury, but she couldn't even lift her head. Her arms and hands lay uselessly upon the floor, lacking the strength to move. All her strength and vitality was slipping away, consumed by the blazing fire below her ribs. It's not fair, she thought, barely managing to keep her eyes open. I can't be dying. It's too soon. The darkness crept in on her from all sides, making it harder and harder to think. Her heartbeat grew slower and fainter every second. A sense of profound regret came over her, driving out the fear and pain. I'm only seventeen! I haven't even- And, all of sudden, Max was there, calling her back from the abyss, his soulful face and caring brown eyes staring down at her, filling her vision. He tore open her uniform and laid his hand upon her stomach, quenching the fire there with the cool depths of his spirit.
Her life was never the same again…
The two men, Maria had told her later, had fled the Crashdown as soon as the gun went off. They were long gone before Sheriff Valenti and his deputies showed up to investigate. Everyone figured they'd skipped town, and Liz had never expected to see the man who shot her again.
Until now.
Without thinking, Liz gasped out loud. The memory was so strong she felt like she had been shot all over again. She could practically smell the gunpowder in the air, hear the sharp report of the gunshots echoing within her ears. She glanced down at her stomach, half-expecting to see the blood leaking through her fingers. Help me! she thought irrationally. Somebody help me! I've been shot! She staggered backward, accidentally knocking over a display of official Carlsbad Caverns snow globes. The fragile souvenirs, containing molded plastic replicas of the cave's stalactites and stalagmites, crashed to the floor, shattering loudly and spilling their liquid contents all over the tiles beneath Liz's feet. The noisy crash attracted the attention of everyone in the shop, including the beefy, loudmouthed man at the cashier's counter. Looking up in shock and confusion, Liz found herself staring directly into the surly, bloodshot eyes of the man who shot her that day at the Crashdown.
He peered at Liz with a smug, sadistic expression, clearly enjoying someone else's embarrassment, then reacted with surprise once he got a good look at her face. He squinted quizzically, a scowl forming amid his stubble, as he examined Liz more closely from across the room.
Panic gripped Liz's heart. Did he recognize me? she thought, suddenly terrified. Does he know who I am? An overpowering need to get away came over her, and she turned and ran frantically out of the gift shop, leaving behind a mess of broken glass and water. She barreled through the crowds, both in and out of the cafeteria, and didn't stop running until she was all the way to the opening of the Big Room. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt like she could hardly breathe. A scream of utter terror and dismay formed at the back of her throat and she had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from shrieking hysterically. She was afraid to look behind, afraid that she'd see the gun- wielding man chasing after her. She flinched in anticipation of another ear- shattering gunshot tearing her world apart…
"Liz!" Suddenly, Max was there, right in front of her, and she gratefully ran into his arms, grabbing onto him like he was a life preserver in the middle of a stormy sea. She buried her face against his chest and began sobbing uncontrollably. "You're white as a ghost! What is it?" he asked, alarmed by her obvious distress. "What's the matter, Liz? What happened?"Racing footsteps pounded upon the paved concrete trail, and soon they were surrounded by Maria, Alex, Michael, and Isabel, all looking confused and concerned. "Are you okay, girlfriend?" Maria asked, offering Liz a cup of lemonade from the snack bar. "Here, have a sip of this."It took a few seconds, but Liz eventually lifted her face away from Max's chest. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand while she tried to get her sobbing unde: control. The lemonade helped, a little, but her eyes kepi searching anxiously for the man from the shop.
"Everything's fine. Nothing to see here," Michael called out to a bunch of passing sightseers, who had paused to! see what the matter was. "Just a bout of claustrophobia, that's all," Michael assured the strangers.
"Please, Liz," Max urged her softly. She felt his warm arms holding onto her tightly, and she remembered how, on that terrible day at the Crashdown, he had healed her with his special powers. "Tell me what happened," he pleaded.
She nodded weakly, anxious to share her fears with him and the others. But first she needed to put still more distance between her and the site of her terrifying encounter, just in case the man in the red jacket was looking for her. "Not here," she whispered plaintively. She tilted her head toward the entrance to the Big Room. "Let's just go a little further, please?"Okay," Max said, looking puzzled but willing to do whatever it took to make her safe again. He draped her arm over his shoulders, lending her support as he guided her toward the cavern opening. "In there," he instructed the others, taking the lead while exchanging worried looks with both Michael and Isabel. No doubt he had to be wondering, Liz realized, whether one of their human or inhuman enemies had caught up with them again.
Not this time, she thought ruefully, leaning against Max as they walked along the underground trail, gladly letting him prop her up. For once, this wasn't an alien thing; it was Liz's own past that had come back to haunt them.
The Big Room was just as awe-inspiring as she remembered it. Hundreds of stalactites hung from the ceiling, over twenty-five feet above dieir heads, while the vast underground chamber stretched out before them like some enormous subterranean cathedral. "Wow!" Alex exclaimed, impressed despite the crisis with Liz. "It looks like you could fit most of downtown Roswell in here and still have room to spare."But Liz was in no shape to appreciate the stupendous natural wonders surrounding her. Max led her gently into one of the Big Room's many vaulted grottoes. A towering stalagmite, the size and width of some ancient Egyptian obelisk, loomed over them as he slipped out from beneath her arm in order to look her directly in the face. "Is this far enough, Liz?" he asked solicitously. "Can you tell us what happened now?"I-I think so," she stammered, swallowing hard and sniffling. Although still badly shaken, she was starting to feel a little calmer now; the initial panic was fading, giving way to a feeling of slighdy greater security now that she had Max and her friends to comfort and protect her. They were all clustered around her now, watching her with concerned and caring eyes as they waited nervously to find out what had frightened her so badly. "It's him, Max," she whispered finally. "The man who sh
ot me at the Crashdown. He's here."What!" Max reacted explosively. "Where?"Quickly, she told them about her chance encounter with the man at the gift shop, and how she had fled the scene in terror. Saying the words somehow made the entire awful experience even more real, and she had to pause for a second before continuing. Isabel thoughtfully handed her a napkin to wipe her eyes and nose with, and she dabbed at her face with the paper towel while she struggled to regain her composure. Now what do we do? she wondered, scared and uncertain. Is there anything we can do, or should do? Max, on the other hand, had apparently heard enough. "That son of a bitch!" he exclaimed with uncharacteristic rage. His expression darkened and he clenched his fists before stepping back and glaring furiously at the way they had come. Without warning, he stalked away from the group, heading straight for the exit.
"Hey, Max!" Michael called out, taking off after him. "Where do you think you're going?"The rest of you take care of Liz," Max shouted, not even looking back. He was halfway out of the grotto by now. "I'm going to get the slimeball who shot her!"Whoa there, man!" Catching up with Max, Michael laid a restraining hand on his friend's shoulder. "Hold on! We've got to think about this."Max spun around angrily. For a second, Liz thought he was going to punch Michael in the face; she couldn't remember the last time she had seen Max look so enraged. "What's to talk about?" he snapped, brusquely knocking his best friend's hand aside. "That bastard nearly killed Liz!"Michael looked around furtively. Max had deliberately selected a natural alcove off the beaten track, but he and Michael's tense confrontation was still starting to draw stares from the handful of other tourists present. "Chill out, man," he whispered intently, indicating with a gesture that they should lower their voices. "We don't want to attract any unnecessary attention, right?"A lifetime of cautious anonymity seemed to supersede Max's seething fury, at least in part, and he weighed Michael's words carefully. His blazing eyes swung back and forth between Michael and the route back to the gift shop, as if torn between conflicting impulses. "I don't know," he said through gritted teeth, his fists remaining clenched at his sides. "He might get away."Let's just talk this over for a few minutes," Michael insisted. Despite the upsetting circumstances, Liz couldn't help noting how bizarre it was to hear Michael acting as the voice of reason; usually, Michael was the impetuous one, while Max advocated common sense and caution. She didn't know whether to be flattered or alarmed by Max's violent reaction to her unplanned reunion with the shooter. I never realized he hated that guy so much.
