Pursuit r-7
Page 12
"Are you sure that's such a good idea, Max?" Kyle asked. "The Feds might trace the call. “
"If they can, then they probably already did," Max said. "There's no point in leaving Jesse hanging." He turned to face Isabel. "He's probably worried, Iz. Tell him you'll find a way to reach him later. And don't mention anything about what Liz said. We've changed the course of events she's seen in her premonitions before. We can do it again. “
Isabel nodded, then reached out and hugged him. He squeezed her in return. The contact renewed his determination to keep her safe.
They disengaged after a moment, and Max turned to crouch beside Liz again. Now she seemed more clearheaded than she had a few moments before. Kyle had placed a hand on her forehead. Max felt a twinge of jealousy, but cleared it out of his mind as quickly as it had come. Kyle and Liz had dated in the past, but Kyle was still her friend. And as a friend, he was entitled to care about her.
"How are you feeling now?" Max asked Liz.
She sighed. "I'm doing all right, Max. The vision just knocked the wind out of me. “
"Well, let's all get back to the van and eat," Max said. "I think food will do us some good. Then we can figure out what to do next." As long as the bad guys don't suddenly show up and make that decision jor us, he thought.
"Good idea," Kyle said. "Let's get you up," he said to Liz, reaching for one of her arms. Max took the other one, and they helped her get to her feet.
Max turned back toward the phone booth and caught Isabel's gaze. She was talking on the phone, so apparently she'd managed to reconnect with Jesse.
He turned back to Liz and Kyle. "Let her finish up. “
A few moments or so later, Isabel hung up the phone and rejoined the group.
"Everything smoothed over?" Max asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Isabel said. She still sounded stunned by Liz's dire forewarning.
"Let's get back to the VW, then," Max said, offering her a smile that he could only hope would reassure her. "Dinner awaits. “
Boston Jesse was glad that Isabel had called him back. He wasn't sure what was worse: not having heard from her at all, hearing the news from her about Cheyenne, or hearing the phone cut off in mid-conversation. At least her callback had told him that she and Liz were all right, even if she hadn't gone into specifics about what actually had happened.
She'd sounded tired, but he hadn't wanted to tell her that. He couldn't deny that she no longer sounded like the confident young woman he had married. Life on the road was apparently wearing them all down more than she had wanted to admit.
After ringing off with Isabel, Jesse decided to get some coffee at the Java Joint a few blocks away, near Harvard Square. He didn't anticipate being able to sleep for a while tonight, so he decided he might as well add some caffeine to his system. Sometimes it actually had the effect of calming his nerves rather than exciting them.
As he waited on the street corner for the walk signal, he felt the phone vibrate again in his pocket. Is Isabel calling a third time? He clicked it on. "Hello? “
"I need to speak to a lawyer," the male voice on the other end of the line said.
Jesse's blood ran cold. "How did you get this number? “
"A friend of mine gave it to me. He said it was the number of a good attorney. “
Jesse stared at his phone in horror. The only person who knew he had this phone was a client who was currently in jail, and therefore not likely to be sending Jesse any referrals. Which meant that the person on the other end of the line must have heard him give the cell phone number to Isabel earlier.
Which meant his home phone was bugged.
"You've got the wrong number, buddy. I'm a pizza delivery guy," Jesse said, then clicked the phone off.
Looking into the street, he saw a delivery truck and several cars heading toward the intersection. Timing it to their speed, he tossed the cell phone into their path.
A second after it clattered to the street, he heard a satisfying crunch as the delivery truck smashed the phone into a pile of wire and broken components. The truck's driver honked at Jesse and flipped him the bird.
Needing coffee now more than ever, Jesse continued down the street.
If they are still tapping me, do they know that was Isabel who called? Am I about to be dragged into the alien nightmare again? Jesse knew he couldn't answer those questions. Nor was there anyone in Boston with whom he could even discuss them.
He was alone. All alone.
Cheyenne, Wyoming "I don't remember anything more," Liz said. "I'm sorry. These precognitive flashes aren't exactly linear. And I can't control when I get them. “
"So the only clue we have is that Isabel is apparently put on a plane first," Kyle said, wiping fried chicken grease off his fingers. "Easy. So we keep her from getting on any planes. “
"That's not so easy to do when the reason she was on the plane appears to be because she was in custody" Maria said. "It sounds like our real goal is to keep her from getting captured in the first place. “
"Brilliant," Michael said, digging into a tub of soggy coleslaw with his plastic spork. "I think that's the general idea for all of us. “
Maria glared at Michael but said nothing.
"Knowing that we're in more and more danger the longer we stay in Cheyenne, we need to decide how we're getting out of here," Isabel said, breaking the momentary silence. She was idly playing with her long braid.
"But we've still got unfinished business here," Kyle said.
"You're right," Michael said. "We left a bunch of stuff at the hotel. Doesn't make sense to ditch what's left of our worldly possessions if we don't have to. “
Kyle shook his head, looking exasperated. "Who cares about that? There are two people who are in the hospital because of us. Are we really going to just abandon the people who got hurt because of us? “
"Are you still suggesting that Max try to sneak into the hospital and heal them?" Michael asked.
Kyle nodded. "Why not? It's not like he hasn't done the same thing before. In fact, it seems like every few months back in Roswell he was sneaking into a hospital to heal somebody. And Maria and Isabel have had experience working as candy stripers more than once. “
Max winced. Early in his relationship with Liz, he had failed to heal her beloved grandmother, who was dying. He didn't think she held it against him, but he still felt guilty about having let her down.
"I agree with Kyle," Isabel said. "Those people wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for us. I think we can help them and not get caught. Like Kyle said, we've done it before. “
"We've also been shot at before, and I don't want to repeat that experience," Michael said, his tone acidic. "I vote no. “
"I vote yes," Maria said, offering a half-apologetic look to Michael.
Max made a decision. "It's not up for a vote. We're going to help them. Then we're going to get our stuff. And then we're getting out of Cheyenne. “
"How do we know that deciding to get out of Cheyenne isn't what gets Isabel captured? “
"Don't go there, E. T.," Maria said, shaking her head. "We're sunk if we start getting so freaked out about Liz's psychic hot line that we can't make any decisions. “
"'We' don't seem to need to make any decisions," Michael said, leveling his insolent gaze straight at Max. "Our Mighty King has spoken. “
"Let's not go through this again, Michael," Max said, an edge of anger creeping into his voice in spite of himself. Less than a year earlier, Michael had challenged Max's leadership one too many times. He'd even managed to steal the Antarian royal seal Max carried embedded within him. But Max had taken it back, and Michael had pretty much toed the line since then.
"Before you go off making pronouncements, there's one thing we haven't really talked about," Maria said. Max assumed her edgy tone was in defense of Michael. "When you heal people, you transfer some of your alien essence into them. Look at what's happened to Liz. How do we know it won't happen to Kyle? You've healed him
twice now. And how about his dad? Or, for that matter, what about Brody's daughter, and all those sick kids you healed Christmas before last? Or any of the others? “
"We don't know that the power transfer works on everybody" Isabel said.
"Actually, I think it's started to work on me already," Kyle said. Everyone looked at him, but only Maria's face revealed any shock. Max remembered she had been the only one unconscious back in the mall's corridor. She hadn't witnessed Kyle's surprising psionic episode.
"1 mean, what was going on with me back at the mall?" Kyle said. "It was like I was inside a bunch of people's heads all at once, but I wasn't, like, telepathic or anything. “
"Didn't Nasedo say that your powers come from the parts of the brain that aren't fully used in most humans?" Liz asked, looking toward Michael.
"Pretty much," Michael responded. "He told me that when we were engineered, we were given the capacity to do everything the human brain is capable of. He said that humans were wasteful, that they didn't even reach a small part of their brains' potential. We're programmed to be thousands of years ahead of mankind. “
"Minimal brain use isn't exactly a new theory," Liz said. "Science-fiction writers have been using that as a plot device for years. In order to be smarter or more powerful, we just need to use our whole brain instead of only a fraction of it. “
"So Nasedo said that none of your powers come from the fact that you're aliens?" Maria said, looking confused. "We could do all the things you can do if we just thought harder? “
"I don't think that's quite it," Max said. "From what Nasedo said, there are things we can do that were engineered into us. That's clear, given that some of us can do things the others can't. And our corresponding Dupes from New York apparently had the same powers as we do… or at least very similar ones. “
"Not to get too techno-geeky, but the brain runs on electrical impulses, and our thoughts are an extension of those impulses," Liz said. "Since I seem to have electrical powers and intermittent precognition, maybe Max's powers jump-started those neural pathways in my brain. “
"That might explain whatever happened to me today," Kyle said. "It felt like I was, I don't know, broadcasting everyone's thoughts or… it was weird. “
"So, we know that two of the people Max has healed have started to develop hyperbrains," Maria said. "But both of them were shot, and dying. So was Kyle's dad. That's different from all the sick kids he healed. So is it possible they won't develop into the New Mutants because they weren't bleeding from gunshot wounds when they were healed? “
Isabel waved her hands in front of her. "Okay, enough. We don't know whether everyone Max heals will develop alien powers or not. So the question becomes: Do we risk our safety helping these people or not? “
"We're helping them," Max said. Michael rolled his eyes. "But first, we get some sleep. Everybody. “
He turned toward Kyle. "Please set your watch alarm for two A.M. That's when the bars close. If there's any time the hospital might be busiest at night, that's when it will be. “
"Are you thinking some drunks might get into a car wreck tonight to create a diversion for us?" Michael said, smirking at Max.
"There doesn't seem to be much else for the locals to do in this town at night besides hit the cowboy bars," Max said. He looked around the van at the others. "We'll go over everything at two. But first, we all need to get some sleep and recharge our batteries. “
A few minutes later, everyone in the group seemed to have made the best of its situation. Michael and Maria were in the very back of the Microbus, while Max, Liz, and Isabel tried to get comfortable in the center section. Kyle occupied the driver's seat, his body leaning over onto the window, his legs propped up on the passenger seat. It wasn't a comfortable arrangement, but it wasn't the first time they had slept this way. At least this time they didn't have their luggage to contend with as well. Of course, that meant they didn't have their pillows, either.
For some time after everyone else's breathing had settled into the smooth and rhythmic patterns of sleep, Max lay awake. As exhausted as he was, he was even more tired of running… and of wondering what Earthly or otherworldly menace would threaten him, his friends, and his family next.
Eventually, fatigue won out, and Max fell into a deep sleep that even his nightmares didn't dare trouble.
11 New York City. July 1999.
Kal Langley stepped out of the limousine, and into a small puddle of water. Things are not going smoothly, he thought.
He had taken a break from the press tour for his latest film to go on a "personal errand." His limo driver knew better than to question why they were at a seedy outdoor storage facility, and he was likely looking the other way now.
Langley stepped up to the rolling door of the storage locker and grasped the pair of locks on it. Strange. I only put one lock on it, and neither of these is it. A rumble in his stomach gave voice to the suspicion that knotted there. Has someone been in here? He put his hands over the locks and mentally pushed. A slight glow came from his hand, and the locks both clicked open.
He rolled the door halfway open, ducked under it, and closed it again. No use in giving his driver any reason to ask questions. His palm glowed, lighting the area. He could immediately see that things were not as he had left them.
There were more crates and cases than he'd remembered, and the crates he was looking for weren't there. Reaching over to one of the unknown cases, he ripped it open. Thick dust sloughed off from the lid. Inside the box were bags filled with bricks of a powdery substance. Cocaine. Why is there cocaine in my storage locker? Expending only a little of his strength, he ripped the wooden top off a long rectangular crate. Inside, the packing material padded guns. Not his guns.
Langley began pushing boxes and crates aside. Some of his materials were here, but the four crates that had held the Royal Four's pods were missing. Then, he spotted something on the floor. A dark stain, surrounded by other stains.
Kneeling, he put his brightly shining palm near it. The stain was dark brown, almost black, and he was reasonably certain it was blood. The other stains were more clear, like the trails that slugs left behind them as they moved.
Langley 's mind whirled. Given the dust on the floor and the boxes of guns and drugs, it appeared that no one had been in the storage locker for years. But whoever was here last had taken the crates containing the pods. And someone had been injured here, or perhaps even killed. It appeared that the pods had been opened, if the remnants of slime on the floor were any indication.
But were they all opened? Were they all alive and unharmed? Where are they now? Langley hadn't intended to awaken the Royal Four until they were fully mature. Extended gestation inside the membranous pods would nurture their alien powers, making them stronger and more powerful the longer they remained ensconced.
Sometimes he thought that he might not awaken them at all. Why would he want to return to Antar? Besides, the other Royal Four were already living in Roswell. Or Royal Three at least, if his surveillance information was correct. Perhaps Nasedo had the fourth child, Ava, with him. Or perhaps she hadn't survived into her teens. He didn't know. He hadn't had contact with Nasedo for years.
Today was supposed to just be a check-in to make sure that nothing had gone wrong with the pods, whatever he decided to do with them in the future.
Something was definitely wrong. The Royal Four was missing. Luckily, Langley had resources.
While Rath and Lonnie made out on the sidewalk, Zan and Ava chose several slices of hot pizza from the twenty-four-hour pizza joint on the corner. Zan grabbed a handful of sugar packets from the condiment area; they'd help season the spicy pepperoni to suit the group's alien palates.
Zan looked over at Ava as she went to "pay" the clerk. He always enjoyed watching her work her mindwarp mojo. She handed the clerk a bar flyer she had picked up from the sidewalk outside, and asked, "Can you break this? “
"Sure," the man said agreeably. He counted out thirty-
eight dollars in change and handed it back to Ava. Grinning, she turned and came over to Zan.
They exited the shop and handed Rath and Lonnie their slices. Zan sprinkled the sugar over his, and handed packets to the others so that they could do the same. None of them knew why they liked such a high contrast of sweet and sour tastes together; their favorite mixture lately had been horseradish over ice cream.
"Got us some money, too," Ava said. "What say we go dancing? “
"Sounds good to me," Lonnie said. "How about Club Rent? “
Rath seemed distracted, and looked over his shoulder for the third time in the last minute.
"What's up? Ava toasted the pizza guy's brain," Zan said. "He's not gonna come after us. “
"Not him," Rath said. "Somebody else has been bogey-ing us. Old balding guy. Dressed in black. He's been following us for the last twenty minutes. “
Zan looked back over his shoulder and saw a man matching the description Rath had given standing on the opposite side of the street. He didn't seem to flinch when he saw Zan looking at him. And he clearly was watching them.
"Turn up this alley here," Zan said. "And don't act like anything'sup. “
The four of them moved into the alley, chatting and laughing and eating their pizza. As soon as they were past a car parked in the alley, Rath ducked behind it, while the others continued on their way.
Zan turned his head slightly as they neared the end of the alley on the other side, and saw that the man was indeed following them. Almost there, Zan thought.
And then Rath stepped up from his crouch behind the car, unleashing a blast from his hands that threw the man up against the brick wall on the other side of the alley.
As the others turned to run back toward Rath, Zan was astonished to see the older man shake off the blast and raise his own hand, releasing a pulse of energy that sent a surprised Rath tumbling across the hood of a car.
Zan, Ava, and Lonnie raised their hands in unison, palms outward, toward the man. "Who are you?" Zan asked loudly. "If you're looking for trouble, you found it. “