by Kevin Ryan
As soon as they hit the ground, he let go and scrambled
to put some distance between himself and the alien as he
tried to get to his feet at the same time.
Something grabbed his foot.
It's got me with its claw, Kyle thought, fighting down
panic.
Kyle felt himself getting pulled closer to the creature
and all he could think about was its wide mouth full of
* * *
teeth. As he slid closer, Kyle heard a series of loud clicks
from the alien. They went right through him and brought
the panic closer to the surface. While he squirmed and
tried to get away, Kyle felt the second claw trying to find
purchase on his body.
I'm caught, his mind cried out.
Out of instinct, he reared up with one foot and
slammed it where he thought the creature's head would
be. He made contact with something and felt the second
claw jab him in the stomach. He brought his foot down
again and, this time, he heard a satisfying thud and knew
he had landed a very solid blow. Kyle had hurt him. Sud-
denly, the creature released him and—as far as Kyle could
tell—went still. He wasn't sure, because he didn't turn
around until he had scrambled several feet away.
When he did turn around, he saw the alien lying in a
heap. It didn't move and had stopped making its horrible
sounds.
Got him, Kyle realized. He had won one for his friends
and for himself. A quick smiled formed on his lips, but
Kyle knew they were a long way from done. He had to get
to Max and Michael. Kyle pushed off the ground and
found that he couldn't get up.
There was an odd pressure in his abdomen. Kyle's hand
went to the spot and came up wet.
What? he thought looking down at his hand. It was wet
with his blood.
As the haze of his adrenaline rush started to fade, Kyle
realized that it wasn't pressure he was feeling in his stom-
ach. It was pain.
The creature had stabbed him with his claw when they
* * *
were struggling. It had gotten him pretty good, too, judg-
ing by the fire in his abdomen now. Kyle tried again to get
to his knees and found that he couldn't. A moment later,
he was on his back, pressing his wound with one hand.
"Kyle, are you okay?" a voice called out. It was Max.
When Kyle spoke, he thought his voice was remarkably
strong. "Yeah. I took him down, but he clipped me good.
I'll have to sit out the rest of the game."
"You sure you're okay?" Max said.
"Yeah, go—do what you have to," Kyle said.
He spoke the last sentence quickly as the pain got
worse. Kyle knew that Max would stop to heal him if he
knew that Kyle was hurt. They couldn't afford the time
now. Liz's life depended on them striking hard and fast.
If they succeeded, there would be plenty of time for
Max to help him when they were done and Liz was safe.
"Stay where you are," Max said. "We'll be back for you."
No problem, Kyle thought. I'm not going anywhere.
Despite the pressure he was putting on the wound, Kyle
felt the blood seeping from it. He saw the blood spreading
over his shirt and begin to drip down to the ground.
Suddenly he knew he was a long way from all right.
Well, the important thing was that Max thought he was
okay. Now, he and Michael could finish what the three of
them had started. Kyle was glad he had been able to help,
even if it was just to take down one of the bad guys.
He shivered. That was new. Had it gotten colder all of a
sudden? Kyle figured it had. He noticed something else;
the pain wasn't as bad now. The waves were gone, and he
felt only a dull ache now.
He shivered again. When did it get so cold?
* * *
22
“Doesn't look like there are any more guards," Michael
said.
"I'm not sure he was a guard. He didn't even have any
weapons," Max said.
"Either way, it looks like they are all inside," Michael
said.
They crept closer to the ship. A few more steps. Then a
few more. They moved as silently as they could. Now they
were less than twenty yards form the ship. Details were
clearer. Max could see the landing struts and a single ramp
that let up to some kind of hatch or doorway.
"How is that plan coming along, Maxwell?" Michael
said.
"Slowly," Max replied, considering the scene carefully.
"We have no idea how many of the aliens are around or
inside. We don't know what kind of weapons the ship has.
And for all we know, they're watching us inside on the big
screen now and laughing," Max said.
"Well, sure it sounds bad when you put it like that,"
Michael said. "I guess that leaves us only one choice."
"The front door," Max said.
"On three," Michael said.
"One," Max said.
"T—," Michael began, but he was interrupted by a
loud, high-pitched clicking that suddenly filled the night.
Max's eyes searched the ship for signs of movement. An
instant later, he saw a spot near the top begin to glow.
Reacting instinctively, Max threw up his hand, and two
things happened nearly simultaneously. A green barrier
appeared in front of Max and Michael and a bolt of some-
* * *
thing tore out from the ship toward them.
It struck the barrier Max had created with tremendous
force. The barrier held, at first. But the blast of whatever it
was was still there—an angry ball of swirling white energy
pressing itself against the barrier.
The blast was pushing into the barrier, closer to Max
and Michael. In seconds it would be over for them.
No, not just for them. For Liz, too.
"Noooo!" Max said, pushing forward with his hand—
except that Max knew that it wasn't his hand that was
doing the real work.
Somewhere in his mind, in his cerebral cortex, power-
ful forces were at play. When Max pushed, he pushed with
his whole being. The green shield crackled with energy
and blew outward, the blast that the ship had sent to them
went flying back toward its point of origin.
It struck the ship in a shower of sparks that blinded
Max for a moment. It also shook the ground.
Before his vision cleared, he said, "Three," and started
running.
* * *
He sensed Michael next to him as a new sound
emerged from the ship. No, not a new sound, a familiar
one. It started to grow darker. Max felt a queasy sensation
beginning in his stomach and heard Michael say, "No way.
Not now." Before the darkness became total, Michael lifted
up his hand and fired off a burst of his own.
This one hit the ship nearly dead center and shook it
visibly. Instantly, the dark cloud dissipated.
"What did you do?" Max asked.
"Not sure, but it looks like it worked pretty well,"
Michael said.
They were at the foot of the ramp now.
There was light
inside the ship, and Max ran toward it.
Liz is in there, he thought.
An instant later, two figures appeared at the top of the
ramp. They were pointing something down at Max and
Michael. '
Even as that thought registered, a blast from Michael
leaped out at them and tossed them very hard back into
the ship. Max realized that Michael had taken the lead and
was barreling up the ramp just ahead of him.
Well, he's better at this part than I am, Max thought. He
had an instant to wonder where that thought had come
from, and then they were inside the ship, standing on a
landing with one door on each side of them.
The ship was filled with loud clicking sounds, which
Max guessed were some sort of automated alarm. Some-
thing was wrong. The floor was shaking beneath his feet.
He and Michael must have hit the ship pretty hard.
Good, he thought.
An alien appeared from a door that slid open. Max
* * *
cursed to himself. He had held out a slim hope that there
might only be the three they had seen so far. Clearly, there
were more. This one was similar to the one Kyle had taken
down. Actually, it looked identical.
Michael blasted him back the way he came.
"That way," Max said, pointing into the hallway the
alien had emerged from.
They stepped inside and found nothing. Just thirty or
forty feet of hallway.
"What now?" Michael said.
Max thought for a moment. The ship was shaking now.
Something was wrong with it. Whatever they did, they
needed to do it fast.
No time. No time. No time.
There were sounds of movement from inside the ship.
Max did the only thing he could think of: "Liz!" he called out.
He did it again. Michael called out as well.
"Shhhh," he said, holding up his hand.
Nothing.
They called for her again.
"Max," a voice said. There it was. Faint, but he had
heard it. A look at Michael's face told him that it wasn't his
imagination.
"Max," the voice said, louder this time.
It was coming from back behind the door. Max led
them back to the small landing they had first reached
when they entered the ship.
He heard Liz again, louder this time. Then he realized
where they were. They were in the dead center of the ship.
The landing obviously connected two main hallways that
ran the length of the vessel.
* * *
Max started for the door on the opposite door, the one
that would lead him to Liz. The door opened, but
Michael's hand on his shoulder pulled him aside before he
could step through.
"Let me check it out," Michael said, stepping through.
Max was an instant behind him.
Faster than he could ever have reacted, Michael identi-
fied and blasted two aliens that were waiting for them.
"Max," Liz called out again. She sounded much closer
now. Max ran down the hallway. He and Michael checked
doorways together and only once saw an alien—whom
Michael quickly dispatched.
Then they tried another door and saw three people
inside against a wall.
Liz was there, Max realized, feeling a rush of relief. She
was standing up attached to the wall with some sort of
straps or bands. Next to her were Bell and Dawn. Both of
them looked unconscious. Liz seemed half out of it her-
self, but she was fighting. She had retained enough con-
sciousness to see where they were and had told Isabel.
A rush of love for her overwhelmed him, but he pushed
it aside. He still had plenty of work to do. Max didn't
bother to scan the room. He sensed Michael was doing it,
and since he didn't hear any blasts he assumed it was clear.
Rushing to Liz, he waved his hands and the bands
around her flew off. She fell into his arms. Putting her
down on the floor, he ran his hand over her whole body.
She seemed okay, except. . .
Drugged. They had given her something. It was affecting
her, keeping her docile. Summoning his power, he placed
his hand on her head and felt his energy flow into her.
* * *
Immediately her eyes cleared and she looked up at him.
Holding his hand up to tell her to be still, Max ran his
other, glowing hand over her body, clearing it of the drug.
An instant later, Liz's arms were around him and he was
pulling her up. "We're in the ship," he said.
Liz nodded. "I told Isabel where it was."
"Can you walk?" he asked.
"I'm okay," she said, taking a step to make sure.
"Good, we'll have to carry them," Max said, pointing to
Bell and Dawn.
Michael had removed their bands and quickly threw
Dawn over his shoulder. Max did the same to Bell and
they headed down the hallway, making for the landing
and the ramp.
Michael was in front, and Max could see that he was
watching carefully for aliens. Thankfully, none appeared.
Then they were on the landing.
The ramp was in front of them. Michael headed down first.
Max almost stumbled when the ship shook and the
ramp nearly threw him. Liz's hand was on him and he kept
his balance. Finally, they were on the ground. Ten feet.
Twenty. Thirty.
Michael stopped and put Dawn down. Max did the
same with Bell. He took a quick look at them and saw that
they were both breathing.
That done, he had only one thought. He wanted to put
his arms around—
"Max, we have to go back," Liz said.
"What?" he said.
"Back in there? We just got out—miraculously—in one
piece," Michael said.
* * *
"There are others in there, I heard . . . screaming," Liz
said. "We can't leave them."
Max thought about Isabel's dreamwalking experience
and Liz's vision. Whatever the aliens were doing to the
people they took, it was awful. He looked at the ship. It
was shaking visibly. And inside, there were girls who were
imprisoned and being experimented on.
Max had some experience with that.
"Liz, it's too late," Michael said.
"We'll go," Max said.
"We'll what?" Michael said, shocked.
But Max was already running back to the ship and he
knew Michael was just behind him. By the time he
reached the ramp, Michael was ahead of him—muttering,
but leading the way.
Since they had searched the hallway that was to the right
of the landing looking for Liz, this time, they turned left.
There were no aliens in the hallway—at least, none that
were moving. Quickly, they tried doors. Max saw equip-
ment he didn't recognize and seemingly empty room, but
no people-^-or aliens, for that matter. Finally, at the end of
the hall, they saw a single large room. Scanning it quickly,
Max saw a long row of tables like the ones Isabel had
described from Jessica's dream. Ten tables. No,
twelve.
And three of them were occupied.
Max ran over to look at the closest one. Once he
stepped next to the bed, something happened. The rest of
the ship seemed to disappear around him. He could see
the floor and ceiling going on in all directions, seemingly
forever. There appeared to be no walls.
Rooms that aren't rooms.
* * *
"Michael?" Max called.
"I'm here. I see it too. Weird," Michael said.
Max stepped away from the table, and the room took
on its normal appearance. It's an illusion, he realized.
"Maybe it keeps them from trying to get away," Michael
said.
Max nodded and said, "Let's get them out of here."
"Max, I don't think . . . this one. Max, this girl is dead,"
Michael said, pain in his voice.
Dead.
Rage boiled up in Max. These creatures had taken an
innocent girl. Experimented on her, and killed her. They
had also taken Liz, and that fate had been waiting for her.
There were straps holding the girl in front of him to the
table. Max used his powers to break then and took her
into his arms. He gently put her on his shoulder and
stepped away from the bed.
He was relieved when the illusion was broken and the
room appeared normal finally.
"I've got Jessica," Michael said. "Can we go now?"
Max nodded, and they headed into the hallway. The
ship rocked violently under their feet for a moment. Then
it moved again.
"Did you feel that?" Michael asked.
"Yes," Max said, a feeling of dread coming over him.
"The ship is moving," Michael said, voicing Max's worst
fears.
He and Michael raced through the ship. Max had a sec-
ond to note the rough texture of the metal walls and floor.
Otherwise the alien vessel was sparse except for a few
lights, panels, and screens of different shapes.
* * *
It was a real spaceship. Under different circumstances
he knew that he and Liz would love to explore it. Max
lurched forward and pushed all other thoughts from his
head. He knew that if he didn't hurry, he would have
plenty of time to study the ship from the inside.
It's not cold out, Kyle realized. The growing puddle next to
him told him that much. This cold he was feeling came