by Melinda Metz
She glanced at the clock. Only twenty minutes left. Maybe she should flip a coin-if she could figure out how to flip a coin for multiple-choice questions. Maybe heads on the desk-A, tails on the desk-B, heads on the floor-
Liz felt a tap on her shoulder. "The principal needs to see you right away," Mr. Beck said softly. "Take your things."
Liz grabbed her backpack. She knew everyone was staring at her as she made her way to the door. They were probably all trying to figure out why honor student Liz Ortecho was getting called to the principal's office.
Why would Ms. Shaffer call her out of class? she wondered as she hurried down the hall. It had to be something big. She swung open the office door-and saw Sheriff Valenti lounging against the long counter that divided the room. His mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes, and his face was expressionless as usual.
"Sheriff Valenti needs to ask you a few questions," Ms. Shaffer said.
Liz jumped. She hadn't even realized the principal was there. The second Liz entered the room, her eyes had locked on Valenti.
"Let's go." Valenti pushed himself away from the counter and headed out the door. He didn't say a word as Liz followed him down the hall, out the main doors, and over to the parking lot. He didn't say a word as he opened the back door of his car for Liz or as he slid behind the wheel and started to drive.
Liz stared at the back of Valenti's head through the metal grill separating the front and back seats. She knew he was playing some intimidation game with her-and it was working. He was freaking her out. Had he found out what really happened at the cafe? Did he know Max healed her? Did he know everything?
Make him tell you what he knows, Liz coached herself. Don't volunteer anything. Don't start talking just to fill the silence. That's exactly what he wants. She leaned her head against the seat, trying for a bored expression. She felt as if any word she said, any tiny gesture she made, could put Max in danger.
The air in the car smelled like cigarettes, and plastic, and sweat, and something medicinal. She wanted to crack the window, but she doubted that windows in police cars rolled down.
Valenti pulled into the parking lot of a small mustard yellow building near the edge of town. He got out of the car and closed the door with a quiet click. Liz almost wished he'd slammed it. At least then he'd seem human. Instead he was an ice man, totally in control. She knew she couldn't play him the way she had Elsevan DuPris.
He opened her door and started across the parking lot. Liz scrambled out and caught up with him. She lengthened her stride until it matched his. They walked across the parking lot and through the building's glass double doors side by side. She wasn't going to walk three paces behind him like a pathetic little puppy dog.
As they walked down a long hallway covered with ugly specked linoleum Liz tried to remember every detail of the story she told him at the cafe. She needed to be able to repeat it back to him today without slipping up.
Valenti stopped abruptly and swung open a door on the left. He stood back and let Liz enter the room first, then closed the door behind them.
Liz couldn't stop herself from giving a tiny gasp as she stared around the windowless room. A morgue. She was standing in a morgue. Liz had seen way too many cop shows not to recognize the stacked rows of metal drawers along one wall.
Oh, God. This wasn't about Max. She was here to identify a body. Who? her mind screamed. Who is it?
Valenti brushed past her and strode along the wall. He grabbed the handle of one of the drawers and slid it open. The sound of the tiny metal wheels rolling in their tracks sent a chill through Liz.
"I want you to see this," Valenti said, his voice calm and cool.
There was a body stretched out on the cold metal of the drawer. A plastic sheet covered it from head to toe, but Liz knew if she walked over there, Valenti would pull back that sheet, and she would have to look. She didn't want to. She didn't. If she looked, it would be real. It would be someone she knew.
Tears filled her eyes. When Rosa died, Liz had never seen her body. She could never bring herself to look, even to say good-bye. Now she had no choice. Whose body was this? Why wouldn't Valenti just tell her what had happened?
Who is it? Liz's feet moved toward the drawer. Papa? Mama? She couldn't stop herself from going over there. She couldn't stop herself from looking down at the body She couldn't see much through the plastic, but she could tell that the corpse wasn't anyone she knew.
White-hot fury ripped through her. She whirled toward Valenti. "How could you do that to me? You let me think that…" She couldn't finish. If she said one more word, she knew she would start crying. And she wasn't going to give Valenti the satisfaction.
Valenti didn't answer. He took the top of the plastic sheet in both hands and pulled it halfway down. "What do you make of the marks on this man?" He sounded as if he were just making casual conversation, as if he had no idea he'd just put her through the most terrifying moments of her life.
Or as if he didn't care.
Liz stared at Valenti. She saw her own face staring back at her from the mirrored lenses of his shades. She felt as if she had fallen into some strange dream. Nothing made sense. Valenti was asking her to help him study a stranger's corpse? Why?
"The marks," Valenti repeated.
I have to do this, she thought. It's the only way I'm going to get out of here. She slowly lowered her eyes to the corpse. The first thing she saw was two handprints on the man's chest-iridescent silver handprints. She knew that if she placed Max's hands over those marks, they would be an exact match.
If he can heal with a touch, can he kill with a touch?
I guess I have the answer to that question, she thought. Sour bile rose in her throat.
"I… I've never seen anything like them before," Liz stammered. She needed time to think, time to figure out what to do. Maybe Max had a good reason for killing this guy. Maybe the guy was attacking him or something.
She forced herself to look at the corpse's face. The man looked about her father's age. His brown eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling. His lips were frozen in a grimace of pain.
Liz gagged. How could there be a good reason for killing this man? For killing anyone?
"That's interesting," Valenti said. "Because my son, Kyle, mentioned that he had seen similar marks on your stomach."
"He was wrong. It was just a temporary tattoo." She ripped her shirt out of her jeans and held it up. "See. No marks." She smoothed the shirt back over her stomach.
The handprints had been fading a little at a time. If Valenti had brought her in one day earlier, she wouldn't have been able to back up her story.
"Can we go now?" Liz asked. It came out sounding a little too much like a plea, but she couldn't help it.
Valenti ignored her. "I've seen marks like this before," he said. "They are made by the touch of a particular race of alien beings."
Liz's mouth dropped open. "You believe in aliens?"
What had happened to her nice, orderly world? The world ruled by the periodic chart? A week ago the only people who believed in aliens were tourists. Suckers who would go gaga over a photo of a melted doll. Now she had absolute proof that aliens existed. And the sheriff-Mr. Ice Man-was telling her he believed in them, too.
Valenti reached up and slid off his sunglasses. He shouldn't have bothered, Liz thought. His eyes were a cold gray that revealed nothing of what he was think-
"I am going to tell you something that I have never told a civilian-not even my own son," Valenti said. "But you're a smart girl, and you can help me. I am an agent for an organization called Project Clean Slate. Our purpose is to track down alien beings living in the United States and make sure that they pose no threat to the human population."
Liz gazed at him, trying to ignore the emotions rushing through her. Max killed someone, Max is an alien, Max is dangerous. Max loves me.
"This organization was formed in 1947, the year of the crash. That was the year we realized that aliens exist, aliens with the tech
nology to travel to another galaxy."
"But everyone knows that UFO was a downed weather balloon," Liz said weakly.
"Don't play games with me, Ms. Ortecho," Valenti answered. "I know you've had contact with an alien. I suspect this alien somehow survived the 1947 crash, perhaps as a child who was still incubating. And I want to know what you are going to do about it."
Liz shook her head. "I don't know what you-"
"The alien who healed your gunshot wound killed this man," Valenti interrupted.
"I wasn't shot. I fell. I broke a bottle of ketchup." I wish that story were true, Liz thought. I wish I could go back to living in the safe little world where I knew all the rules, and there were no real surprises.
"That alien will kill again," Valenti continued. "Can you live with that? I saw your face when you thought it was someone you loved lying under this sheet. If you continue to protect the alien, one day soon someone will be standing right where you are, identifying the body of his mother, his father, his sister, or even his child.
"You can stop that from happening. All you have to do is tell me where to find the alien."
Liz took a deep breath. Then she pulled the sheet up so that it covered the dead man's face.
"I don't believe in aliens," she said.
*** 9 ***
Liz stood in the parking lot and stared at the school. She felt as if she'd been picked up by a tornado, viciously whipped around, and then set back down in exactly the same place she started.
She couldn't believe it was only lunchtime. Less than two hours ago she'd been worried about a history test. She started for the quad, then made a sharp right and headed for the main building. She needed a quiet place where she could sit down by herself and think. Think about what she was going to do.
Keeping Max's secret was probably saving his life. But if Max was killing people… Those words just didn't go together-Max and killing-but Liz forced herself to continue the thought. If Max was killing people, Liz had to do whatever it took to stop him. Which meant turning him in to Valenti.
Liz pushed her way through the double doors and started up the stairs. She'd go to the bio lab. Maybe it would help her think precisely and dispassionately, like a scientist. Whatever decision she made could have life-threatening consequences.
As Liz approached the lab she heard someone moving around inside. Damn. She really needed to be alone right now. Who had discovered her favorite place to escape? She peeked inside.
Max was sitting on one of the high stools at their lab station.
Liz stepped back and leaned against the wall. Maria would probably call this a sign from the universe, she thought. But what does it mean?
She so wanted to believe that she could trust Max. But he had been keeping a secret from her all the years that she'd known him. A huge secret. And she'd never suspected.
What if he was still hiding things from her? What if everything he told her at his house was lies-just different lies? What if humans were like lumps of meat to him? What if killing a human was like eating a hamburger or something?
"Everything's going to be all right," she heard Max say softly.
Wait. Did he know she was out there? Had he lied about being able to read her mind?
"I know you're not feeling well, but I'm going to fix you up."
Maybe there was someone in the room with him and she didn't notice.
Liz edged up to the door again. She saw Max crouching next to the mouse cage. He opened the cage door and gently took out Fred, the little white mouse. "You're going to be just fine," he murmured soothingly.
He brought his cupped hands to his chest and cradled the mouse against him. Liz could see the shocking blue of Max's eyes from all the way across the room. A moment later he returned Fred to his cage. The mouse jumped on the exercise wheel with a squeak and started to run.
Liz felt tears sting her eyes. That had to be one of the sweetest things she'd ever seen. And Max didn't know anyone was watching. He wasn't trying to fool anyone. He wasn't trying to trick Liz into keeping his secret-he didn't even know she was there.
He put himself in danger when he healed me, Liz reminded herself. He could have let me die. But that wouldn't be Max. That wouldn't be the sweet, wonderful guy who had been her friend since the third grade.
There was no way Max was a killer. No possible way.
***
Max closed the cage door and latched it. "No need to thank me," he told Fred. "I'll send you a bill."
He heard a soft scuffling sound behind him and turned to see Liz standing in the doorway. Her aura was rimmed with gray. He could practically feel waves of cold coming off it. Something was very wrong.
"What happened?" Max asked.
"I need to talk to you, but not here," Liz said.
"I have my car," Max answered. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah. Let's just go. The bell is going to ring soon."
Max grabbed his backpack and led the way out to his car. "Do you want to hit the doughnut place?" he asked as they climbed in. "That's where Michael always goes when he can't handle class."
Liz's face paled a little. "No. I don't want to go anywhere that I can ever smell food."
"Okay, then." Max pulled out of the parking lot. "We can go to the bird sanctuary. Bitter Lakes is only about twenty minutes away. I've been there with my dad. He keeps saying he was a bird in a previous life."
Max wanted to ask Liz about a million questions on the way there, but it was obvious she was too flipped out to talk.
When they arrived, he reached across Liz and popped open the glove compartment. He rummaged around until he found a package of stale saltines. "These are so old, they don't really qualify as food anymore. We can feed the ducks while you tell me… whatever it is you have to tell me." Max always found it easier to talk if he had something to do at the same time.
Liz took the crackers and climbed out of the car. Max followed her over to the edge of the pond. "So," he said.
"So," she repeated. "So, Max, I found out something really important. Something you need to know. I've been trying to think of some good way to break it to you, but there is no good way."
She threw a cracker into the pond, and three ducks started a fight over it, quacking and flapping. "Sheriff Valenti is part of an organization called Project Clean Slate, which tracks down aliens. I don't know exactly what he does when he finds them, but he thinks aliens are a threat to humans, so whatever he does can't be good."
Liz took a deep breath and finally met Max's gaze.
Max felt as though she'd just shot him. He dropped down in the damp dirt near the edge of the pond. His legs felt weak and boneless. Max, Isabel, and Michael had spent hours talking about them, about what they would do if they ever discovered the aliens. But it felt a lot different now that the vague they was a real organization, with a real name. And that one of them was very close to finding Max, his sister, and his best friend.
Liz sat down next to him. "Are you all right?"
"Does Valenti know the truth about me?" Max asked in a strangled voice.
"No. Kyle told him about the silver marks on my stomach. Valenti says he knows they were made by an alien. But I didn't tell him anything," Liz answered.
Kyle saw Liz's stomach? Max felt a stab of jealousy. He told himself to get over it. Now was definitely not the time.
"There's more. Valenti brought me down to the morgue. He showed me a man's body with the same silver marks on its chest. He said… he said the same alien who healed me killed the man."
"I didn't-" Max began.
Liz ran her hand lightly down his arm. Max could feel her touch all the way down to his bones. "I know you didn't do it, Max," she said. "I know you could never kill anyone."
There was no trace of deceit in her aura. She meant what she said absolutely. She knew the truth about him, the truth he thought he could never reveal to any human, and she still trusted him.
Suddenly the rest of what Liz had said hit him. "Valenti
took you to the morgue? That's so sadistic. If he did that to me, I would have been sure one of my parents had gotten killed or something."
"That's exactly what I did think. It's what he wanted me to think," Liz said. "I guess he figured I'd break down and tell him everything."
Max still couldn't believe she hadn't broken down. "That man he showed you has to be the guy I tried to heal at the mall. He had a heart attack. I tried to save him-I was making it look like CPR-but I was too late."
Liz nodded. "The handprints looked the same size as yours."
"How did you know… how did you know I didn't kill him?" With all that evidence, how could she still have believed in him? Max thought he would only find that kind of trust and loyalty from Isabel and Michael. He never imagined it could come from an outsider.
Liz met his gaze, and he thought he saw tears shining in her eyes. "I wasn't sure," she admitted. "I… I thought you might have done it. I'm sorry, Max. So much has happened so fast. I'm really sorry."
"It's okay. It's okay." Max wanted to wrap her in his arms and comfort her. But he wasn't sure it would be comfort. Just because she didn't think he was a killer didn't mean she wanted him touching her.
"What convinced you?" he asked.
Liz gave a snort of laughter. "A mouse. I saw you heal Fred in the lab. And I realized that someone who cared so much about a little mouse life could never be a murderer."
Her expression turned serious. "I shouldn't have needed the mouse as proof, Max. I've seen you do hundreds of kind, good things over the years. You always know when someone is hurting, and you always try to help. You're the best guy I know. Really."
Max felt as if someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. He'd never guessed Liz gave him a thought when they weren't working on one of their lab experiments. But she had noticed things about him, and she cared about him. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice.
He grabbed a handful of crackers and threw them into the pond. He didn't know what to say.
"Do you remember anything about the crash?" Liz asked. "I know I freaked out when you tried to talk to me about it before, but I'd like to hear it now if you want to tell me."
