Dreamwalk r-3

by Paul Ruoitis

  «Hello! Is someone up there!» a familiar young voice yelled from deep inside the mine shaft. «Help!»

  Max was relieved at hearing the voice that confirmed Jason was still alive.

  «Jason, is that you?» Liz screamed back, on the edge of panic.

  «Liz? Help!» Jason was past the edge.

  «Hold on!» Max called back while he searched the area for anything he could use to make a ladder or some kind of rope. «We'll get you out. How far is it to the bottom?»

  «I don't know!» Jason yelled back. «I'm not on the bottom.»

  «What do you mean?» Liz asked, straining to see into the darkness beneath her. «Where are you?»

  «I'm on some kind of beam," he replied. «But my bike fell to the bottom. It… it sounds really far.»

  Max could hear Jason's voice trembling as it echoed up the walls of the shaft.

  «We'll get you out of there," Max promised.

  «Hurry," Jason replied. «I think the beam is going to fall!»

  13

  Opening her tired eyes, the first thing Maria saw was the beautiful painting still sitting directly in front of her.

  The second thing she saw was the light coming in through the window.

  And, naturally, the third thing she saw was the clock.

  «Michael! It's morning!» she screamed, waking her sleeping boyfriend. «How could you let me fall asleep? My mom is going to kill me. Then she's going to kill you. And then she's going to kill the both of us again, just for the heck of it.»

  «What?» He slowly came around to her shrill yells, not having heard a word of what she had just said.

  «Morning.» She slowly summed it up for him in a clear and concise manner. «My mom. Me. You. Dead.»

  «Well, we can't do anything about it now," he replied. He wanted to turn over and go back to sleep, but he couldn't because he was sitting up on the couch. His neck ached because of the awkward angle he had slept at.

  Maria calmed herself, knowing that he was right. Feeling

  morning breath overtaking her mouth, Maria reached in her purse for some mints. «I swear, one of these days I'm going to give that woman a heart attack.»

  «Since you're here," Michael tested the waters, «how about making some breakfast?»

  She glared at him in response, crunching on the mint.

  «Kidding," he replied defensively, and got off the couch, moving into the kitchen. «You cooked last night. It's my turn this morning. What would you like? And keep in mind I only have eggs.»

  «Michael Guerin?» She was shocked by the question. «Offering to make me breakfast? The world must be coming to an end. Have you been taken over by an alien… oh wait… never mind.»

  «It's a limited time offer only.» He had no patience for her sarcasm first thing in the morning. He had no patience for anything first thing in the morning-or at most points in the day.

  «I would love breakfast.» She leaned in to kiss him, but stopped short before making contact. «Ewww. Have a mint.» She handed him an extra breath freshener from the pack in her hand. The romantic mood ended, she released him from her embrace, and sat back on the couch admiring the wonderful painting as he went to the refrigerator to find out what was in there that he could use to make breakfast.

  «You know, we could probably have a showing of your art in one of those galleries along Main Street," she suggested with mounting excitement. «Or we could do it at the Crashdown. It would be a great gimmick-the cook-slash-artist. The local papers love that human interest

  stuff, and Mr. Parker would probably love the free advertising for the place. We could put all your work on display.»

  «All what work?» He was afraid where this was going. «It's one painting.»

  «Sure, now," she replied, moving into the kitchen with him. «But I think you've got this artist in you struggling to emerge. All you need is my inspiration. Think of me as your muse.»

  «Not interested.»

  «You haven't even thought about it," she whined. «Artists can make a lot of money.»

  «Once they're dead," he said, reminding her of the odds of successful living artists. «Like I said, I'm not interested. What happened to the promise you made last night to stop trying to change me?»

  «I was emotionally touched by the painting at the time," she explained. «The moment passed. So, do you think you're more into oils or acrylics?»

  «I'm more into being left-"

  Michael didn't have the chance to continue his thought, because someone frantically started banging on his door.

  Maria started to open her mouth to respond, but Michael quickly covered it with his hand. The look of anxiety on his face begged her to remain silent, and she gladly agreed. His biggest fear was that one day the wild pounding on his door would be the FBI… or worse. It was actually a fear that he had encountered in the past and was not in a hurry to repeat.

  «Michael, it's Kyle. Let me in. Quick!»

  Michael and Maria let out heavy sighs of relief as he

  removed his hand from her face. «Don't ever bang on my door like that," Michael said as he opened the door to find an out-of-breath Kyle.

  «Isabel's in trouble," was all he could say.

  After finally catching his breath following the sprint from his car, Kyle quickly detailed the situation of his finding Isabel in her comatose state. Breakfast forgotten, the three of them were out the door as Kyle returned to his convertible while Maria and Michael went to follow him back to the Evans home in her mother's Jetta.

  Unaware of the fact that Isabel was trapped in his mind, Kyle led his friends back to her unconscious body, reenter-ing the house by way of her window. He stood over her bed while Michael studied her prone form, not really knowing what to do. Regretfully, this was not the first time they found themselves in a situation where they didn't have a clue how to proceed.

  «You found her like this?» Michael asked anxiously.

  «Well, she was kind of slumped over," Kyle explained, «but I just straightened her out a little.»

  Sitting beside her, Michael placed his hand on Isabel's forehead. «She doesn't feel warm. Her face isn't flushed.» He took her by the wrist and felt for a pulse. It seemed fine to him-neither noticeably fast nor slow. Her chest was rising and falling steadily. «Was she sick yesterday?» he asked.

  «No. Not at all," Kyle quickly replied. «She was fine.»

  «Did you see anyone strange hanging around?» Michael pressed on. «Following you?»

  «No one," Kyle answered. «No one at all.»

  «And she spent the entire day with you?»

  «Well, she did disappear for a few minutes to run an errand, but she wasn't gone long at all. Nothing seemed wrong when she got back, either.»

  Having come in through the window, neither of them noticed the yearbook on the floor, hiding slightly under the other side of the bed.

  «I can't get Liz or Max on their cell phones.» Maria came back into the room from the hall carrying her own cell phone, also oblivious to the clue hiding out of her eyesight. «They must be out of the service area, but I left messages. I also called the number Liz gave me for her friends' place. They have to check at least one of those phones eventually.»

  «Did she give you the address?» Kyle asked, relieved now that he had someone to help him with the crazy situation. «I could go get them. Artesia's only about an hour away.»

  «I don't know the address.» Maria readied her fingers on the cell phone to hit a preprogrammed number. «But I could ask her mom.»

  «No parents," Michael stopped her. «The more people who know about this, the worse things can get.»

  Maria sat on the bed opposite Michael and performed her own check for life signs just to confirm everything for herself. «We should think about maybe taking her to the hospital.»

  «And then what?» Michael's usual hostility intensified the more frustrated he became by the lack of action. «Let them run tests? Maybe draw some blood? Good idea, Maria.»

  Even th
ough she was used to his antagonistic attitude, Maria was still hurt by Michael's words, but she tried not to show it, knowing he was already under a tremendous amount of stress. «Well, the next person we let in on our little secret had better be a doctor… preferably a world-renowned

  surgeon who specializes in bizarre cases. I'm tired of relying on guessing games and Native American rituals.»

  «Maria, you're a genius," Michael said, giving a rare compliment as he got up off the bed and moved to the window. «I'll be right back. Kyle, can I borrow your car?»

  «Why not take the Jetta?» Maria offered up her mom's car instead since it was parked right next to Kyle's.

  «Take the old beat-up Jetta over a Mustang convertible?» Michael was already straddling the windowsill. «Are you out of your mind?»

  «Hey, remember who's to blame for the Jetta being so beat up," she replied.

  «Kyle?» Michael was still waiting for an answer.

  «Sure," Kyle said, fishing in his pocket. «Here are the keys.»

  «Don't need 'em.» Michael was gone before Kyle could even reply

  «I guess that's what it means to be second in command," Maria said regarding her boyfriend's quick exit. «And to think I always dreamed of falling in love with a mysterious man of action.»

  Kyle took Michael's place sitting on the bed, and gently stroked Isabel's hair. «I don't get it. Nothing alien happened at all yesterday. What could have occurred between my place and here?»

  «In Roswell? It could have been anything," Maria replied. «I mean, really, take your pick. We got aliens, alien hunters, Feds, Skins, and even a not-so-crazy self-made millionaire who owns the UFO Center.»

  The silence that fell over the room was broken by the doorbell.

  Kyle and Maria froze.

  «Don't look at me," Maria said. «I'm not going to get it.»

  «Do you think Michael forgot something?» Kyle innocently asked, wondering whether he should answer.

  «He's not really a doorbell kind of guy," Maria said. «Or a front door kind of guy, for that matter.»

  «Wait here," Kyle replied. «I'll see who it is.»

  Making his way through the house, Kyle wondered who could be at the door, since all of the members of their inner circle were currently accounted for except for his dad. In vain, he hoped it could be someone soliciting charity donations, selling cleaning supplies door to door, or anyone else who would not ask for an explanation for what he was doing answering the Evanses' door. He tried to come up with excuses as he walked through the house, but realized he didn't have a clue what to say.

  The bell rang once again as Kyle unlocked the door and turned the knob. Swinging the door open, Kyle initially thought he had lucked out, since it wasn't someone he immediately recognized. Please be selling something, he thought once again. Then, a slow realization crossed his mind as he thought he recognized the face as being slighdy familiar.

  The man standing at the threshold to the Evans home was Hispanic and appeared to be only a few years older than Kyle. He was dressed casually in a polo shirt and khakis, but the image that popped briefly into Kyle's conscious mind had the man dressed in a suit. That was the image that did it for Kyle. He knew it was one of Mr. Evans's employees.

  What's his name? Kyle thought to himself… Jesse something?

  14

  «I'm going to call for help," Liz said, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket.

  «Wait a minute.» Max's mind was racing as dozens of scenarios played out in his head, although none of them ended well. «Maybe there's something we can do first.»

  «Max, you heard him.» She ignored the phone for a moment. «The beam is loose. He could fall any minute. We have to get someone out here.»

  He knew she was right, but he also knew that if she made the call, their situation would immediately spiral out of control. «Liz, whoever we call is going to alert the media. Think about it… a kid trapped in a mine shaft. They eat this kind of thing up. We're talking national news. Our faces will be plastered everywhere, and I'm not just worrying about Jason's parents finding out I stayed the weekend.»

  Liz stared at him blankly.

  Then Max stopped for a moment to truly understand what he had just said. I'm putting my secret ahead of Jason,

  he realized. I'm risking his life to protect my own. Without thinking about it further, Max reversed his decision. «Make the call.»

  «Okay," Liz said, «but then you've got to get out of here. I'll handle everything on my own.»

  «No," Max replied. «I'm not going to leave him.»

  Knowing she was wasting time, Liz picked up the phone and switched it on, dialing 911 without noticing that the numbers weren't beeping as she pressed them. When she held the phone to her ear, the realization struck her with horror. «My cell's not working.»

  «Here, try mine.» Max pulled his out and handed it to her.

  Pressing the «on» button, she quickly discovered that it was also out of the service area.

  «What are we going to do?» she asked, handing his phone to him and placing her own back in her pocket without realizing that both of them had irretrievable messages waiting. Into the hole, she yelled, «Hold on, Jason! I'm going to get help. Max will stay here with you.»

  Jason suddenly screamed.

  «What's wrong?» Liz yelled.

  «The beam is slipping!» he hollered back.

  «Jason!» Liz and Max yelled in unison.

  «I'm okay," he hollered back, a little more calmly. «It stopped.»

  «How far down are you?» Max was readying a plan of his own, removing his pads to give himself more maneuverability, but keeping the helmet on.

  «I don't know!» Jason replied. «Not too far.»

  «I'm going down to get him," Max calmly said to Liz as

  he circled the hole. He found a point along the edge where there was enough space between two of the beams for him to easily fit his body.

  «How?» Liz was concerned about the risk involved, but even more concerned for Jason's safety. «We don't have any rope.»

  «I can create handholds in the wall.» Max peered into the hole so she couldn't see the fear in his eyes. «It will be just like climbing a ladder.»

  «It's too dangerous.»

  «It's our only choice," he insisted.

  Liz felt helpless. «Be careful.» She gave him a kiss for luck.

  «Aren't I always?» He shot her a comforting smile.

  Turning, he started down the mine shaft.

  Max carefully kicked his feet into the wall of the mine shaft. Holding for a moment, he allowed the dirt to form around his shoes as he used his alien powers to manipulate the molecular structure of the soil and harden it into a strong foothold. Then, he lowered his hands and did the same, curling his fingers into the wall of the shaft so the handhold would give him something to grasp on to.

  Slowly and methodically, he repeated the procedure as he made his way down the side of the mine shaft. As he went, he made sure to keep the handholds and footholds close together since Jason would need to use them on the way up and he was slightly shorter than Max.

  The sun was rising higher in the sky as more and more light filled into the mine shaft. Max couldn't quite make out Jason's form below him, but his eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness. As he continued the descent he

  thought he could see the outline of a body in the shadows below. «Jason, I need you to talk to me so I know when I'm getting close.»

  «You're almost here," Jason replied, looking up at him. «I can make you out against the light coming from the opening. You look kind of like Spider-Man clinging onto the wall there.»

  Max beamed at the reference, considering that high praise from Jason. There were many times in the past when he'd secretly compared his alien powers with those of comic book superheroes. In fact, when he was younger, before he'd realized the truth, he'd thought that maybe he was a superhero himself when his abilities started to present themselves. He had even drawn up des
igns for his own costume. He supposed that, technically speaking, the concept of an alien sent to Earth where he exhibits unusual powers did kind of fall into the superhero archetype.

  «I'll have you out of here in a few minutes," Max said reassuringly. «You'll be home in no time.»

  «No," came Jason's reply.

  Max paused where he was, clinging to the wall. «What was that?»

  «I don't want to go home," Jason replied.

  Recalling the clearly visible path that had led them to Jason, Max had to disagree. «I don't think that's true.»

  «I wrecked my bike," Jason replied, his hollow voice sounding much closer. «George is going to kill me.»

  Max continued his climb and could now see Jason sitting on a collection of weak-looking cross beams. He was pleased to see that his young charge had had the foresight to be wearing his helmet and pads when he had sneaked

  off on his bike. «I'm sure he'll just be happy that you're okay," he said.

  «You don't know him.»

  Max examined the layout, trying to figure out the best way to get him off the beam. Jason was about four feet away from him, but in Max's current position there was only air between him and the boy. «Let's talk about this once we're out of this hole.»

  Jason didn't reply.

  «How did you manage to get caught on the beam?»

  «There used to be a bunch more, going all the way across to where you are now," Jason calmly explained. «My bike landed on them. I could tell they weren't strong enough to hold it, so I jumped off. The bike went crashing down only a few minutes later. It sounds really far to the bottom.»

  Eyeing the remaining beams that sagged under Jason's considerably lightweight body, Max could easily tell that they would not support the boy much longer. And it was also clear they could not handle his added weight, either. He would need Jason to slide over to the wall. The only problem was that Max had come down nowhere near the point where the beams met the wall.

  «I'm going to have to come around to that side.» Max freed his right hand from the wall to point to the direction he was about to move. «Stay exactly where you are until I get there.»