by Melinda Metz
"Crazy eights?" Cameron repeated. But Michael spoke up before she could pursue.
"So, freaky girl, is there anything you can do to help us bust out of here?" Michael asked as he watched Adam lay out the cards.
"Sorry. I'm, uh, the experiments tapped me out. I did some other ones before they brought me into the lab with you guys," she answered.
"Okay, here's my plan, then," Michael began. "I can do this thing where I change people's appearances. Have you ever done that, Adam?" Adam shook his head. Cameron looked stunned. "I'm thinking that I'll make Cameron look like the guard's daughter. I'll threaten to kill you if they don't put down their weapons and let me lock them in here while we make a run for it."
"Maybe you're the one I should call Pinky," Cameron said. "The guard knows his daughter isn't in the compound."
"Yeah, his mind knows that. But what's his gut going to say when he sees his little girl in here? He's just going to want to save her, right?" Michael asked.
"I guess. Unless he's like my father," Cameron answered. "You know there will be other guards between here and the exit, don't you?"
"Yeah, but we'll still have our little girl hostage. And Adam and I have power." Michael shot a glance at Adam. It was very hard imagining him using his power to hurt anyone. It wasn't anything Michael would want him to have to do, either. The thought started the acid in his stomach churning.
"Maybe it would work better if I changed Adam's appearance," Michael said. As the hostage, Adam wouldn't have to hurt anyone. Michael would just have to hope he could handle any of the pain inflicting that came up. The way he was feeling right now, he might even enjoy it.
Michael moved down to the floor and sat across from Adam. "Move around so you can help me block the guards' view while I make the change," Michael told Cameron. She slid into place beside him.
"You ready?" Michael asked Adam. As soon as he nodded, Michael reached out and touched his face. "What I'm doing is moving the molecules around in your skin and bones to make you look like the little girl we saw. You can help me. Just focus on the molecules and squeeze them apart or push them together to make the changes."
The changes began happening so quickly that Michael could hardly register them all. Adam's hair darkened and grew longer. His cheekbones lowered. His front teeth disappeared.
Our power is more than doubled when we're linked, Michael realized as he and Adam completed the transformation in seconds, something that would have taken Michael fifteen or twenty minutes to do alone. He was definitely going to have to try some of this with Max and Isabel. If the three of them connected and used their powers… it was too mind-blowing to take in.
"You really are a freak," Cameron said, her voice shaky.
Michael shot her a look. "You're not going to faint on us or something, are you?"
"No way," she answered. "I don't want to spend the best years of my life singing that chain gang song. Let's blow this pop stand."
"Adam, when I grab you, all you have to do is scream your lungs out," Michael told him. He stood up and jerked Adam in front of him.
"Hey," Michael yelled. "If you want your daughter to live, drop the machine guns and the prods… now!"
Adam let out a shriek that Michael figured was only half faked.
"Stephanie," shouted the guard they had linked to.
"Yeah, we've got Stephanie," Cameron shouted. "Now put the weapons down and get in here, or get ready to say good-bye to your baby girl."
The guard they'd linked to dropped his machine gun. He threw down the cattle prod, unlocked the door, and rushed in.
"Your partner, too," Michael barked.
"Eaton, do it!" the guard in the cell cried.
Eaton hesitated. "I can kill with a touch," Michael yelled. "They told you that, right?"
"Eaton, they're going to kill my little girl!" the guard in the cell screeched.
Eaton threw down the machine gun and the prod and stepped into the cell.
"Get over to the cot, both of you," Michael ordered. When they obeyed, he backed out of the cell, still holding Adam in front of him. The second Cameron stepped through the doorway, he slammed the door shut and locked it.
"Which way out?" he cried,
"That's the way they brought me," Cameron answered, pointing. She scooped up one of the machine guns. "Come on!"
Michael didn't hesitate. He flew down the corridor after her, keeping his grip on Adam. She skidded to a stop in front of one of the huge metal doors. "We have to get through here!"
He didn't even bother with the molecules of the lock. He focused on the molecules of the door, shoving them together with his mind. The door screeched open with a hideous metallic crunching sound.
Cameron ducked through. Then Adam and Michael. And they were running again.
Earsplitting alarm bells started to ring. "I'll kill the little girl if I have to," Michael shouted, not even sure if anyone could hear him.
Cameron took a left, leading them into a long tunnel with a metal track down the center. "It's right down there," she yelled, her voice echoing.
This is actually going to work, Michael thought. The guards are holding back because they think we have the little girl. Although they'd probably figure it out in a few more seconds, as long as it took for Valenti to be informed.
"Okay, this is it," Cameron yelled. She slammed her fist against another metal door.
Michael concentrated and shoved it open. "Adam, you have to run. Run as hard as you can. If we get separated, go here." Michael made the connection, then sent Adam an image of the desert, then the town of Roswell and the Evanses' street, then Isabel and Max.
"Look out!" Cameron cried.
A metal grate slid back in the ceiling above them. A shot rang out. Cameron yelled in pain, and the machine gun fell from her hands. A fraction of a second later a guard swung down and grabbed her.
"Adam, go!" Michael cried. Then he lunged for the guard.
"Move, and I kill her," the guard yelled.
Michael froze. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Adam just outside the doorway. What was he doing? Why wasn't he moving?
"Adam, run!" Cameron screamed.
"You have to leave us. Go, go, go!" Michael shouted.
***
Adam hesitated, staring out into the night. It was too big, too empty. He couldn't go out there and live. It would swallow him up. He'd disappear.
"Now!" Michael yelled.
And Adam's feet were moving, flying across the desert floor. He stared down at them, only at them. It's as if they were moving without his control. Following Michael's order whether he wanted them to or not.
Left, right. Left, right. Taking him away. Away from Michael. Away from home. Away from everything he knew.
His body changed as he ran, his little bird legs lengthening, his feet spreading out, allowing him to run faster. Left, right. Left, right. Something coming up in front of him. Cactus. He'd seen it in a book that Dad had given him.
Not Dad anymore. Swerve. Run. And don't look up. Don't ever look up.
His heart pounded in his chest, in his ears, the beat picking up speed. He pushed himself to run faster, matching his stride to the thuds of his heart.
Adam kept his eyes locked on his feet, allowing his mind to go blank, his world narrowed down to the patch of desert directly in front of him. Rock. Jump. Left, right. Left, right. Don't look up.
Mesquite bush. Swerve. Too late. Adam's left foot tangled in it and he went down hard, sand scratching his cheek and getting in his mouth.
Adam lay there for a moment until he felt his heart slow down a little. Then he sat up. And the sky filled his vision, stretching outward to the horizon and beyond. Endless in every direction. The stars so far away. Farther than his mind could comprehend.
He shivered. He realized the air around him was cold. He'd never experienced cold before. Not like this. He'd washed his face and hands with cold water, yes. But the air at the compound was perfectly controlled. Alwa
ys the same.
Adam curled his knees up to his chest, hugging himself. He felt a little warmer, a tiny bit better.
But it was still too big, too empty. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the sky. And he tried to stay very, very still.
*** 7 ***
Maria snapped open the plastic box of the Treachery and Greed on the Planet of the Apes video, then snapped it shut again and tossed it onto her night table. When she'd seen the movie on the shelf at the video store, she'd thought it was the perfect choice. But now she realized she only wanted to watch it if Michael was there to watch it with her.
Except even if Michael was back home, it's not like he'd necessarily come crawling through her window for a movie marathon. That kind of thing was probably reserved for the buddy Maria, not the Maria who exposed her guts and actually told Michael she loved him.
You don't know that, she told herself.
Do too.
Do not.
Do too. Do not. Do too.
The conflicting thoughts ricocheted through her brain until she wanted to scream. Then she heard something that instantly stopped her debate with herself-the sound of her window sliding up. Michael!
Maria sprang up from her bed and yanked her curtains back. Alex gave her a sheepish grin. "I broke that troll thing next to the back gate," he admitted. He peered up at her, his eyebrows drawing together. "I'm sorry. You really liked it, huh?" he added.
"That thing! No. Ick. It's hideous," she said quickly, trying to get the oh-God-I-really-wanted-you-to-be-someone-else expression off her face so as not to make Alex think she'd been struck by troll grief. She grabbed his hand and helped him through the window. "A guy my mom was going out with gave it to her, but she's about three guys past him now. Maybe you should do one of your lists on how not to impress a woman. Giving her a ceramic troll is up there."
"So, presents, they're pretty important, huh?" Alex asked. He shoved off his sneakers and flopped down on Maria's bed. "Oh, it's okay that I came over, isn't it?"
Maria sat down next to him. "Definitely," she answered.
"So if I didn't give the right present or, actually, any present, that would be-" Alex began.
"No. No, I meant it's definitely okay that you came over," she interrupted. "Not definitely that presents are important. Although they're nice, I guess."
"Isabel gave me a present once," Alex said. "Want to see?"
"Sure." Maria wriggled closer, finding the fact that Isabel had given Alex a present very cool. Maybe she was totally wrong about Isabel getting a thing for Michael.
Alex pulled out his wallet and slid out a strip of pictures from one of those little photo booths. He handed it to Maria. "When she gave that to me, she said she was thinking about me in every picture," he explained.
Who would have guessed Isabel had a squishy, lovey-dovey marshmallow heart? Maria thought, smiling. Apparently she was wrong about Isabel losing interest in Alex because of that dream of Michael's. Maria had been so sure that dream had started Isabel thinking of Michael in a different way. But maybe not.
Except wait. Alex said Isabel gave him a present once.
"Um, when did Isabel give you this?" Maria asked.
Please let it be postdream, she thought. Please, please, please.
"Not that long after Nikolas died," Alex answered.
Predream. Great.
"And today she dumped me. I just don't get it," Alex continued.
"Wait. She dumped you? Why didn't you tell me?" Maria demanded.
"I just did," Alex said.
Guys. They just don't get it, she thought. He'd been in her room for at least three full minutes, and he was just telling her this now?
Maybe she should just be thankful for the scoop. Now she knew for sure that Isabel had dumped Alex because of her feelings for Michael.
Maria studied the little strip of photos. God, Isabel was beautiful. Yeah, they both had blond hair and blue eyes, plus arms and legs and stuff. But on Isabel everything just worked together perfectly. There was no way Maria could compete.
Alex reached over and pulled the photos out of her fingers.
"Talk to me. What happened?" Maria asked.
"You saw how she was at our meeting, right?" Alex scrubbed his face with his fingers. "She was kind of jumping down my throat whenever I said anything. Then afterward I said something like how I knew she was feeling upset about Michael. I mean, girls are supposed to like it when you try and figure out how they're feeling, right?" He glanced at Maria for confirmation.
"Yeah. Of course," she answered.
"Well, not Isabel. She just exploded. She was all, like, 'You don't have any right to know what I think.'"
Poor Alex. He sounded kind of dazed, like a guy who'd been in a car crash and was wandering around the highway, talking about the milk he was supposed to pick up on his way home. No clue where he was or even what had really happened.
"Hey, you want some cedar?" she asked, reaching for her collection of aromatherapy vials. It was the only comforting thing she could think of to say. "It will make you feel better."
"The only way it would make me feel better is if you gave me a big vat of it so I could stick my head in and drown myself," Alex answered.
I know the feeling, Maria thought.
***
"I was going to nuke some popcorn, but, uh, I can't remember how long I have to leave it in, or, um, if it's supposed to be on high or what," Max said.
Isabel shook her head at him. "Just push that little button that says popcorn," she answered. "Now, I have a question for you."
Max leaned against the door frame, half in and half out of her room. "Okay, so ask."
"What do you really want?" Isabel said.
A faint blush colored Max's cheeks. You are just too nice, my brother, Isabel thought. She didn't know how Max was going to make it in the big, bad world when he couldn't even pull off a little lie, like pretending he couldn't make popcorn.
"I just heard some yelling before, uh, around when Alex was leaving," he said.
Oooh, very subtle.
"Come on. Let's go get popcorn." Isabel stood up and pushed her way past him. "I was a total jerk," she blurted out as they started down the stairs.
Max didn't answer. "This is the part where you're supposed to say that there's no way I could ever be a jerk of any kind," she told him, shooting a glance over her shoulder.
"But Isabel, there's no way you could ever-" he obediently began.
"Oh, forget it," she said as she led the way into the kitchen. "We both know that's not true. If you asked everyone at school to come up with one word that would describe me, you know what it would be."
"Now, that's definitely not true," Max answered. "It might make the top ten, but there's no way it would be number one."
Isabel grabbed a bag of popcorn out of the kitchen cabinet, stuck it in the microwave, and hit the button. She stared through the little window. Not that watching the bag expand was all that fascinating. It's just that it was hard to have this conversation and actually look at Max at the same time. Admitting that she'd done anything wrong wasn't Isabel's style. Confessing that she'd treated Alex, a guy she actually cared about, like dog poop was almost impossible.
"Okay, maybe it wouldn't be number one on everyone's list. But on Alex's, definitely." Isabel leaned closer to the little window. She thought maybe the microwave light was too bright because her eyes were starting to sting.
Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, baby, she thought. It's the light. Because there's no way you would cry over Alex, the guy you gave the boot.
"Alex knows you're really stressed about Michael," Max told her. She heard him pull out one of the kitchen chairs and sit down. "I'm sure if you called him up and said you were sorry about whatever went down, he'd be fine with it."
"Even if I broke up with him?" Isabel asked.
"You broke up with Alex?" Max yelped. The kernels of popcorn started to explode.
"Yeah, and I wasn't exactly
sensitive about it, either," Isabel said, still talking to the microwave.
"Why?" Max asked. "You know what," he said before she could answer, "it doesn't really matter. You want him back, right? Just call and say that."
Isabel waited until the popping died down, then she pulled out the bag and ripped it open. The hot steam burned her fingers as she grabbed a basket off the top of the fridge and dumped the popcorn in. "The thing is, I don't think I do. Want him back, I mean," Isabel admitted.
She turned around and shoved the basket of popcorn down in front of Max. She grabbed a handful and stuffed it into her mouth, an un-popped kernel singeing her tongue, making her eyes water again.
"Oh." Max crammed a huge wad of popcorn into his mouth, and they both just crunched for a minute.
Isabel knew what Max's next question would be-why didn't she want him back? Good question. Alex was smart, funny, cute. Not exactly the creme de la creme of high school high society. But still. He'd gotten her through some bad times, really bad times.
But now whenever she was with him, she was thinking about someone else.
How could she tell her brother that she'd gone into Michael's dream and seen him with his arms around her? How could she explain that had changed everything?
She couldn't tell Max the raw truth-that recently, every time Alex kissed her, Isabel wondered what it would have felt like if Michael had done the kissing. Yeah, she and Max were pretty close. But he was still her brother. And this wasn't really something she could talk about to a brother, especially because Michael was Max's best friend, practically a part of the family. She thought it might give Max the wiggins to think of Michael and his sister like that.
"Did you hear something?" Max asked. He jumped up and peered out the kitchen window. "I think somebody's out there."
"I didn't hear a car, so it can't be Mom and Dad," Isabel answered. A bolt of pure hope sizzled through her. Michael? She raced to the front door and dashed outside, Max right behind her.
She saw a figure lying on the front lawn, looking half dead. "Michael!" she screamed. She flew over and dropped to her knees next to him.
