by Melinda Metz
Michael pushed past him and strode to the closet. He flung open the door. No Kevin.
Max rushed to the next room—Sheriff Valenti’s office. Papers strewn everywhere. No Kevin.
“Kevin, if you can hear us, try to make a sound,” Trevor shouted.
Where did the guy get off? He’d been on earth for like a day and he was—
Not now, Max told himself. He listened hard and thought he heard a muffled thumping. “What do you think? Under the—”
“Yeah,” Michael answered. “Under the floor. There must be a crawl space.”
He took the lead, Max and Trevor right behind him. As they entered the master bedroom Max felt a tingle from the consciousness. Some of the beings were interested in the texture of the bedspread.
Automatically he took a step toward the bed. Then he jerked himself away and turned down the volume on the consciousness as low as it could go. He could still feel the beings urging him to go over and run his hands across the material, maybe climb on it and roll around. But it was at a level he could ignore.
“Got it,” Michael announced. He yanked open a small, square trapdoor.
“I’m going in,” Max said. He strode over and lowered himself through the opening. “Stay here. I’ll hand him up to you,” he told Michael.
He crouched down until his head was low enough to clear the ceiling of the crawl space. The darkness under the house was no problem for Max. He spotted Kevin almost instantly.
“Your sister’s upstairs,” he called as he crawled on his hands and knees toward the boy. Kevin gave a muffled cry through his gag. It looked like Kyle had stuffed a tennis ball in Kevin’s mouth and then duct taped it into place. A rush of pure hatred overtook Max. Kyle’s lucky Kevin didn’t suffocate, Max thought. He is so very lucky.
“Almost there, almost there,” he told Kevin. Max felt a nail in one of the beams rip through his shirt and slice down his back. He ignored it. “Okay, got you.” He reached out and ripped the duct tape off Kevin’s mouth with one quick pull.
Kevin clawed the tennis ball out of his mouth and took a long, gasping breath. “Why?” he choked out.
Max hadn’t been expecting that question. “The guy’s one sick little puppy,” he answered, hoping Kevin wouldn’t push the issue.
“Let’s get out of here. Think you can crawl all right?”
Kevin gave him a duh look. “If you untie my hands and feet,” he answered.
Max quickly untied the clothesline that bound Kevin. Maybe I should keep this, he thought. Give Kyle a little taste of what he did to this kid.
The second he was free, Kevin was crawling toward the square of light in the open trapdoor. He was faster than Max. Sometimes it helps to be small, Max thought as the same nail got him a second time.
“It smells like mouse poop down here,” Kevin complained. He squirmed his way over to the trapdoor.
Max smiled. If Kevin was feeling good enough to whine, he was fine.
“Yeah, it does,” Max agreed. “We’re coming up,” he called to Michael. But Kevin was already hauling himself into the closet.
A moment later a hand reached down to Max. He grabbed it and used it to pull himself up. Two realizations hit him as his head cleared the trapdoor.
It was Trevor helping him out.
And Trevor had his free hand in Max’s pocket.
The volume on his connection with the consciousness went all the way up. A shriek of warning ripped through Max, so strong, a shower of red dots streaked past his eyes.
“Michael, he’s going for the Stone!” Max shouted.
Michael jerked his attention away from Kevin. Trevor had Max pinned half in and half out of the crawl space. Max had both his hands locked around one of Trevor’s wrists. Michael could see Max’s arms trembling with the effort to keep Trevor’s hand from reaching back into his pocket.
“What the hell are you doing?” he shouted at his brother.
“What’s necessary,” Trevor yelled back, without turning toward Michael.
Power began to build up in the room. Michael could feel it vibrating through the floor, through the walls, through his body. He didn’t know who was getting charged up, Max or Trevor or both, but he knew that the amount of power he was feeling could do some serious damage.
The power let go, and Trevor flew across the room. He slammed into the dresser, shattering the big mirror above it.
Michael bolted toward him, but Trevor was on his feet instantly. His eyes were cool and determined as he advanced on Max.
“Why aren’t you doing something?” Kevin shouted.
Because I don’t know what to do, Michael felt like shouting back. Any course of action meant hurting Max or his brother. Michael’s eyes flicked back and forth between them. Max was standing by the closet, still, but ready.
Trevor paced back and forth, studying Max. Then he gave a growl of fury and leaped at him. He was clearly using his power to propel himself because he was flying at Max bullet-fast.
“Trevor, pull back,” Michael screamed. If he hit Max at that velocity—
But before Trevor could touch Max, there was another power detonation. Trevor somersaulted through the air. He crashed into the ceiling, then fell to the floor with enough force to send a shudder through the house.
“Do you need me?” Adam cried from down the hall.
“No,” Michael shouted back. “Stay where you are.” Anyone in this room had a very good chance of getting hurt.
He hoped Trevor would just stay down, but a moment later he was on his feet, clearly having turned his healing powers on himself.
“Give it up, Trevor, you’re no match for me. Not when I still have this.” Max reached into his pocket and pulled out the Stone. It was glowing more brightly than it ever had, throwing its blue-green light onto Max’s face, making him look like a stranger.
“Trevor, he’s right,” Michael said quickly. “The Stone has more power than you can imagine. This is over.”
“It’s not over until I’m dead,” Trevor announced.
“Your choice,” Max answered.
Michael had to diffuse this situation. Now. He turned to Max.
“You don’t need to kill him. You have all the control here,” he said, going for the logical approach. “Just use the Stone to immobilize him, then we’ll figure out what to do.”
“Thanks for the support, brother,” Trevor said.
“You lied to me,” Michael shot back, without taking his eyes off Max. “You lost the right to my support.”
But that didn’t mean he was going to let his brother die.
The glow on Max’s face intensified as the Stone shone brighter and brighter. “What’s it going to be, Trevor?” he demanded.
“Max, get a grip,” Michael cried. But Max’s face was blank. He was so deeply connected to the consciousness, it was like he wasn’t even in the room anymore. Michael could reason with Max, but he knew he had no influence over this Max thing.
Michael’s heart felt like it was about to hurl itself out of his chest. “Trevor, you’ve got to walk away,” he said, turning all his attention to his brother. “You go after him, it’s suicide.”
“I have no problem with that,” he answered.
The glow of the Stone had become so bright, it was making Michael’s eyes water. He shot a quick glance over at Max. Max had the hand holding the Stone stretched out in front of him now. Aimed at Trevor.
Michael didn’t think. He just reacted to the threat. He lowered his shoulder and went at Max low and fast.
Max never saw it coming. He went down as easily as a bowling pin. Michael knocked the Stone out of his hand, and it rolled across the floor.
“You’ve got to snap out of it,” Michael yelled. He grabbed Max and shook him hard. He thought he saw a little awareness come back into his friend’s eyes. Michael shook him again.
“Get out of the way, Michael,” Trevor said, his voice like ice.
Michael twisted around and stared at his brother. Tre
vor had the Stone now. It’s blue-green light was too brilliant to look at directly. And it was aimed at Max.
“No,” Michael said. He positioned himself between Max and Trevor. “No.”
“What is going—,” Max began, sounding groggy.
“Just stay down,” Michael barked.
“Max is a vessel of the consciousness, and he must die,” Trevor answered. “Move out of the way.”
“No,” Michael repeated again. He could hardly see Trevor through the glare from the Stone.
“Michael, the consciousness is evil. If I could pull Max away from it, I would. But it’s not possible,” Trevor answered. “Now move.” His voice was ragged with emotion now, not icy as it had been.
“No.” Michael didn’t move. He wasn’t going to move.
“Guys, Kyle’s coming your way,” Alex shouted from the front of the house. “He tried to pull a Tyson on me and got loose.”
Michael didn’t even spare a glance at the door, even when he heard it fly open. Kyle was the least of their problems now.
“Don’t make me kill you,” Trevor begged.
“I’m not making you kill me,” Michael told him. “Just put down—”
Suddenly a piercing metallic screech filled the room, the sound so high, Michael thought it was going to burst his eardrums.
Then the world went white. The floor bucked, and Michael was in the air. Flying through the white. The blazing white light.
It felt like it took him an eternity to hit the ground. When he could breathe again, he struggled to his knees and groped the floor in front of him. He had to find Max, but all he could see was a swirl of white dots in front of his eyes.
Trevor had used the power of the Stone.
“Max!” Michael shouted. “Are you okay?”
Michael blinked rapidly, trying to force his eyes to adjust. He saw a hump of darker white a few feet away. He crawled toward it.
His vision slowly cleared, and he saw that it was Max lying in front of him. Michael reached out and felt for Max’s pulse. He could feel it, faint and erratic, but there.
“What did you do?” Trevor yelled.
Michael leaped to his feet and spun to face his brother. Trevor was staring down at the Stone. It lay dull and lifeless in his hand.
“What did you do to the Stone?” Trevor shouted, advancing on Max.
“I didn’t do anything,” Max answered as he struggled to sit up.
“I sure as hell didn’t,” Michael said.
“Oh, I guess it must have been me,” Kyle announced from the doorway. Michael saw Adam, Alex, Isabel, Liz, and Maria trying to push their way past him.
“This little baby is fine.” Kyle lovingly ran his fingers over the curved surface of the small silver disk in his hand.
Then he raised his eyes to Michael. “Now, you will tell me what I want to know.”
