The Vanished rh-7

by Melinda Metz

  "I will," Maria promised. And she would because she had no wish to come home ever again and find the sheriff in her house.

  Maybe I'm just being paranoid, she thought. But the whole story about Sheriff Dodson just happening to hang around tonight seems a little too convenient. What if she's part of Clean Slate and just using Mom to keep an eye on me?

  Yeah, Maria was being paranoid.

  But sometimes a healthy dose of paranoia could keep you alive.

  ***

  "You're not going to believe this," Max said as Michael pulled himself into Max's bedroom through the window.

  "Sounds big," Michael said, brushing off the front of his black T-shirt.

  "It's huge," Max responded, his blue eyes wide. "Liz and Adam broke into DuPris's office."

  Michael's face went slack. "They did what?" he demanded. "Do they have a death wish or something?"

  "That's not even half of it," Max said, plopping down on the edge of his bed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him. He looked up at Michael, hoping he wasn't going to lose it when he heard the news.

  "What is it?" Michael asked.

  "They found a picture of Valenti in his office at the compound," Max said. He took a deep breath.

  "And?" Michael prompted.

  "And he was shaking hands with Alex's dad."

  Michael just looked at Max for a moment. Then he slowly lowered himself onto the desk chair. "The Major is Clean Slate."

  It was a statement, not a question, but Max felt the need to answer it, anyway.

  "We don't know that for sure," he said. "It could mean nothing."

  "But it could mean something," Michael said, his gray eyes flashing. "If he's Clean Slate, he's already out for our blood, and if he finds out we're responsible for Alex's disappearance…"

  Max's stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he found himself staring at the carpet. We're responsible. There should have been some way to tell the difference between Alex and DuPris while the wormhole was open. Even though Alex had been molecularly altered to resemble DuPris, Max still should have been able to tell them apart somehow-

  "It was an accident," Michael said. "I can feel you getting your boxers in a bunch over there. Stop it, Max. How many times do we have to tell you it wasn't your fault? You were tricked. We all were. I was just thinking that any Clean Slate agent would assume it was us."

  Max nodded, but he wasn't totally convinced. He knew he was going to feel guilty until Alex was back where he belonged. On earth.

  "So… what do we do about the Major?" Max asked, changing the subject.

  "Avoid him like the plague?" Michael suggested.

  "There's still a possibility that he has nothing to do with anything," Max said. "I need more proof than a photo Liz found in DuPris's file cabinet. It's not like the Astral Projector ever printed a photo that wasn't doctored."

  "Good point," Michael said. "We'll just keep an eye on him… from afar."

  "And act cool if we run into him," Max added.

  "Maybe you can act cool," Michael said, smiling. "But you're never going to be cool, geek."

  "Dork," Max replied.

  "I don't have to take this abuse," Michael said, pushing himself out of his chair. "I'm outta here."

  "So soon?"

  "Yeah," Michael said. He shook his new keys with a grin. "I want to go kick back at Ray's place, now that it's my place. Jealous?"

  Max rolled his eyes. "Insanely," he answered. "Later."

  "Peace out," Michael joked, climbing through the window.

  When he was gone, Max lay back in bed and decided to distract himself with some mindless TV. He started surfing channels and stopped on a cooking show, but the combinations of ingredients didn't appeal to him. Humans just never mixed sweets and spicy foods for some reason. Like a hamburger covered in applesauce. Mmm.

  The collective consciousness agreed with him. A ripple of approving images entered the back of Max's mind. Yes, they concurred. They loved fried meat and tangy fruit together. One of the beings gave Max a taste of a favorite dish, and he could feel the juices running down his throat. Awesome.

  Then he realized he hadn't tried to connect to the consciousness at all.

  Was it going to be like this for the rest of his life? The idea that the collective consciousness would always be peering over his metaphoric shoulder gave Max the creeps. Will the connection keep getting stronger? Max wondered. Even when I'm not trying to connect?

  He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe he should cut back on the amount of time he spent willingly making a full connection to the consciousness. Maybe that would stop or slow down the automatic linking.

  But if I do that, Max thought, then how can I keep tabs on how Alex is doing? I've got to keep everybody calm about Alex.

  Max closed his eyes. That's what he should be doing right now-checking up on Alex. No matter how it affected Max, making sure Alex was safe was his number-one priority.

  With a deep breath Max opened himself up to the full force of the collective consciousness and sank into the ocean of interconnected auras. Like he was floating in a warm bath, Max felt buoyed up by the network of souls. Then he became absorbed by them, one among the multitudes.

  Alex? he sent out, along with an image of his redheaded friend laughing at one of his own jokes. How's Alex?

  Most of the responses Max received in return were positive-friendly replies, from beings who had begun to adjust to Alex living among them.

  Then Max bumped into an aura he recognized.

  It was Alex himself. And he was terrified out of his mind.

  Max received an image from Alex of pure fear, of shadowy threatening presences, of misery and loneliness. There was no place for Alex to relax or rest. He was constantly on the run. Running for his life.

  What is it? Max sent out frantically. Alex, what's wrong? What are you running from?

  But before Alex could reply, another being took his place-an unfriendly entity who blasted Max with images of fire and destruction. Max recoiled… and lost track of Alex in the whirlwind of auras.

  He thrust himself into the storm, struggling to hold on to Alex's signature energy, but to no avail. The angry being had blocked Alex from further communication.

  How can I get him home if you won't even let me talk to him? We want the same thing-we both want Alex back on earth! He knew he wasn't getting his message across. His reasoning was too hard to express in images.

  Max received no response, so he decided to shout directly to Alex.

  Alex, he sent, Alex, if you can hear me, we're trying to bring you back! We all miss you, and we want you to come home! I promise… I promise we will find a way to get you here where you belong!

  Max disconnected from the full force of the collective consciousness and sat up on his bed, gasping for breath. What was going on? Where had all that anger come from?

  It made Max sick to think of Alex out there, alone and scared. But all Max could do was hope that most of the consciousness was still trying to understand and that those beings would keep his friend safe.

  ***

  Liz looked incredible today, Adam thought. He lay on the living-room floor and let his mind drift back to the scene in the Astral Projector office. Liz under the desk with him. Her soft, sweet-smelling body pressed up against his. Her lips so close, he could have kissed her…

  With a groan Adam flipped over and buried his face in one of the flat beanbags. He wished it was time for his short sleep period because then he wouldn't be lost in thinking about Liz. Probably.

  I wonder if she dreams about me, Adam thought. Right, like that was even possible. But still, maybe he should go dream walking and check out her dream orb. He'd give anything to see what Liz dreamed about.

  No, Adam told himself. It would violate her privacy. And what right did he have thinking about her so much, anyway? She was with Max. They were boyfriend and girlfriend. Adam was nothing to her. Nothing special, any
how.

  And Max had been so great to him. They all had.

  So Adam definitely shouldn't peek into Liz's dream orb.

  Definitely.

  But nothing was stopping him from dream walking elsewhere. Even when he'd been confined to the compound, dream walking had allowed him a little taste of freedom. He could experience the whole world in dreams.

  And if he stopped by Liz's dream-just stopped by to look at it from the outside-who would that hurt?

  Nobody.

  Adam flipped over on his back and closed his eyes. He let a wave of calm creep up his body, starting with his toes. When the current of relaxation reached his head, Adam opened his eyes on the dream plane. He was surrounded by billions of glowing spheres, a chaotic field of bubbles stretching into the distance. Brilliant colors swirled on the surfaces of the spheres, and each gave off a pure note so rich, it barely translated as sound. Adam felt the music deeply more than just heard it-this was a music all the senses had to share.

  Each bubble was attached to a dreamer. Adam whistled softly, concentrating on picturing Liz. Sure enough, she was asleep, and her dream sphere floated toward Adam's summons. He held the whistled note until Liz's sphere spun close enough for him to see inside.

  What he saw sent a jolt through him. Liz was having a nightmare.

  Something was chasing her through her house. She ran up the stairs, her eyes wide with terror, as she searched for someplace to hide. The walls contracted until they were as narrow as tunnels. A thick blue fog filled the stairwell, making it hard for Liz to see who was chasing her and making it even harder for her to escape.

  Adam placed his open hands around the orb, willing the sphere to expand until the figures inside were life-size.

  Liz was in a bedroom now, surrounded by the fog, backing up against the headboard of the bed. Out reached a pair of hands and grabbed Liz by the throat. She saw its face for the first time, and Adam saw it, too. The thing… the thing was Liz. Another Liz. With lips and eyes sewn shut with thick black thread.

  Adam had seen enough. He charged inside her dream orb. He grabbed the creature, and instantly it turned to dust. Then he took Liz by the hand and switched the scene to someplace Liz would feel safe-the ground floor of the UFO museum.

  "Get it away! Get it away!" Liz screamed.

  "It's gone," Adam said soothingly. "Would you like to hear some music?"

  Still shaken, Liz nodded. Adam pressed a button on the jukebox. The music that poured out was smooth and slow, with a high, beautiful melody.

  "That's nice," Liz said. She began to sway back and forth. And then she smiled at him, dimpling her left cheek.

  A strong pang of guilt coursed through Adam. Was this okay, him here with Liz? Max wouldn't care if they were just doing friendly stuff, right?

  Yeah, Max definitely would have wanted Adam to take Liz out of that nightmare. Do something to take her mind off it. Like… like ask her to dance.

  Adam held out his arms to her. "Would you-"

  "Sure," Liz said. She smiled again, but her expression was different this time. It was less friendly and more… interesting.

  Adam gulped as he stepped toward her, but she didn't seem nervous at all. Liz met his gaze, her brown eyes glowing with warmth. Then she was in his arms, his hands clasped at the small of her back. Her tender amber aura washed over his lemon yellow energy like the first streaks of a sunset.

  He couldn't forget any of this moment. It was too precious. Adam took a second to memorize everything he was sensing. The supple feel of her body against his own. The heat of her hands on his shoulders. The soft brush of her hair against his cheek.

  After all, if it wasn't a dream, he wouldn't have the chance to hold Liz like this. He might never have the opportunity again.

  Not in the real world.

  In the real world, they would always be just friends.

  SIX

  "How is anybody supposed to eat this?" Liz asked her friends, all of whom were seated around a long table in the school cafeteria. All her friends minus Alex, of course. And Adam. They still hadn't figured out a way to register him for school without every social services department in the country swooping down on him. So Adam hung out in Michael's apartment alone during the day.

  Adam. Liz had woken up with an odd feeling about him this morning-a pleasant feeling, too. But she couldn't put her finger on where it came from.

  "That's why I brought tuna fish," Maria said. "You couldn't pay me to eat this cafeteria garbage."

  Michael looked at them with feigned shock. "What are you talking about?" he protested. He added extra pickles to the top of his slice of sausage pizza. "This is a gourmet meal."

  "That is the most vile thing I've ever seen," Liz said, pointing at his lunch.

  "Seriously," Isabel said. "You could have at least added some Sweet'n Low."

  "Oh, yuck!" Maria said.

  "Fine. More for me, then," Michael replied with a smile.

  Liz smiled, too, but she was wondering why Max had been so quiet all lunch period. He hadn't joined in any of their joking around, and he hadn't even sat beside Liz at the table. Max was sitting on the other side of Isabel, across from Michael, lost in his thoughts. Drifting to… wherever.

  "Max," Liz said. "Earth to Max."

  He looked up at her, surprised. "Oh," he said, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Sorry. I was just thinking about the cave."

  "Isabel's memory?" Maria asked.

  Max nodded. "I've been wracking my brain for any distinguishing factors, but so far… zilch, zip-"

  "Nada," Isabel said. "Me too. It's all a blur. I wish I could remember it better, but-wait, scratch that… I'm glad I don't remember. DuPris's a pig."

  "What do you remember? Is it like your cave?" Maria asked, referring to the cave where Michael, Isabel, and Max had broken free of their incubation pods. They used it as their hideaway from the rest of the world and had brought Liz, Maria, and Alex there when they'd first started hanging out together. Now they often used it as a sort of crisis headquarters.

  "You mean our cave?" Isabel said, looking at Liz and Maria meaningfully. Liz smiled at her. She knew it took a lot for Isabel to include her new friends in something so close to her heart. "DuPris's cave was a lot bigger," Isabel continued, "but it had all your basic stuff-stalagmites, stalactites, bats, darkness, the works. A cave."

  "There are a million places like that in New Mexico." Michael groaned. "Max and I have been searching the desert for years, and we've only hit the smallest fraction of the caves out there."

  "It doesn't even have to be in New Mexico," Liz added glumly. "DuPris can teleport, remember? He followed us back to the museum from the ranch house. And he took the bounty hunters along with him that time, so he could have transported Isabel and Adam, too."

  "I remembered being in the back of a car," Isabel argued.

  "He could have done that just to trick you," Michael pointed out. "So it would be harder for us to follow him… which it is."

  The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period.

  Biology, Liz thought as she stood up. At least it was her favorite class of the day, and Max was in it with her. Maybe he wouldn't be so out of it if they were sitting next to each other, doing experiments together.

  Liz said her good-byes, and she and Max headed out of the cafeteria toward the biology lab. When they were halfway down the hall, Liz nudged Max with her arm.

  "You ready for today?" she asked. "We're playing matchmaker to a bunch of mutant fruit flies."

  Max stopped short. "You know what?" he said. "I left my book in my locker. I'll catch up with you, okay?"

  "Yeah… okay," Liz replied, but Max had already headed down the corridor.

  With a sigh, Liz continued to the lab. He's just preoccupied, she told herself.

  She made a detour for the drinking fountain by the trophy case. As she bent down, a strong hand grabbed her shoulder. Her first thought was that Max had come back for her. But no way would Max grab her
so hard it hurt.

  She spun around quickly. Kyle Valenti stood there, glaring at her. Sweat was trickling down his forehead from his hairline, and his pupils were like tiny black pinholes.

  "What are you doing?" Liz asked, trying to keep her voice as light as possible. She shrugged her shoulder free. "Is there a problem?"

  "Problem?" Kyle repeated. He laughed, but it came out more like a choked gasp. "Yeah, there's a problem! Why don't you tell me where my father is?"

  His father. Suddenly Liz was overwhelmed by a rush of fear, pity and confusion, and she had to fight to keep it all from showing on her face. Liz felt bad for Kyle-he had lost his dad. Sheriff Valenti was a horrible person, but Liz didn't even like to consider how she'd feel if her papa disappeared.

  But how did he know she'd had anything to do with Sheriff Valenti's disappearance? How much did he know?

  "Your dad?" Liz asked, carefully maintaining a calm exterior. "What are you talking about?"

  Kyle narrowed his eyes, half covering his shrunken pupils.

  "I know you had something to do with it!" Kyle snapped. "You were snooping around my house that day-right before I saw him for the last time. You expect me to believe that's just a coincidence?"

  "Kyle, I'm so sorry," Liz said as sincerely as she could manage. "But I honestly don't know where he is." She tried to push past him before he saw in her eyes that she was lying.

  Kyle held on to her arm. "So then why were you in my house?" he demanded.

  "Kyle, I already told you," Liz began with a nervous laugh, trying frantically to remember the explanation she and Maria had come up with when he'd found them there a week ago. "Maria… and I… were decorating all the football players' houses, just for a laugh-"

  "Don't feed me that bull again!" Kyle yelled. "Is he dead? Did you kill him? Either tell me what you know, or-"

  "Or what?" Liz asked, taking a step back.

  "Or I'll-," Kyle began. He looked around the hallway. "I'll-"

  Kyle suddenly turned and smashed his fist through the plate glass of the trophy case beside them.