The Vanished (7 page)

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, anyhow.

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.

“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 racking 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.

Liz jumped as shards of glass crashed to the floor. God, Kyle was out of his mind! He'd always been an idiot, but the sheriff's disappearance had sent him right over the edge. Liz winced as she saw blood oozing out of the cuts on Kyle's hand. For a moment she was so stunned, she couldn't even move.

“Security!” somebody called from down the corridor. Liz looked over to see Ms. Shaffer rushing toward them with the two burly security guys following close behind.

“What the hell's going on over here?” Ms. Shaffer took one look at the blood running down Kyle's wrist and the smashed trophy case and realized what had happened. “Kyle? Are you all right?”

“It's her!” Kyle shouted. “She did something to my father! She's in on it! She's in on it!”

Liz watched, stunned, as the security guards quickly led Kyle away. He kept shouting as they half pulled him out of sight around a corner. Liz's stomach clenched with a mixture of guilt, sympathy, and fear.

“Liz, what happened here?” Ms. Shaffer asked.

“Well . . . Kyle wanted to date me a few months ago, and I turned him down. He hasn't been too happy with me since then.” She figured it was good to mix some truth into her story. “And just now? I don't really know what the deal was. Kyle started yelling something about his father. Some kind of family problem. I had no idea what he was talking about. And then he just snapped.”

“Huh,” Ms. Shaffer replied. “Strange. Very strange.”

“You can say that again,” Liz said. She scanned the principal's face for any sign of disbelief, but she seemed to buy Liz's story.

Ms. Shaffer touched Liz's arm lightly. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, I'm fine,” Liz said. Only after the principal asked did she realize how fast her heart was beating. “Just a little shaken up.” She took a deep breath. “Well, I guess I should get to class.”

She took off down the hall, ordering herself not to break into a run. As soon as she turned the corner, Liz slumped against the wall.

Kyle knows, she thought. Kyle knows! Liz and her friends weren't responsible for Sheriff Valenti's death, but they were there when it happened. And DuPris had used Adam's body to do the dirty work. If Kyle suspected them and kept digging, Adam — and the rest of her friends — could be in a lot of trouble.

Liz pushed herself off the wall and walked to the water fountain on the other side of the hall. Kyle'd grabbed her before she got her drink. As she sipped, she forced herself to look at the situation rationally.

What, exactly, did Kyle know?

Enough to accuse her, but not anything more than that, she decided as she straightened up and continued down the hall and up the stairs. He had no proof of any kind. And his accusations were based on circumstantial evidence at best.

But did he know more than he was letting on?

Did he know about Project Clean Slate? Did the sheriff tell his son he was on Max, Isabel, and Michael's trail? Had Kyle ever hung out at the compound?

Maybe Kyle is the one who chased us through the desert, Liz thought, taking a deep breath. He was obviously off at the moment. It definitely could have been him.

Liz headed toward the lab, her mind reeling. If Kyle was the one who'd chased them, did that mean he'd somehow managed to move the ship, too?

Pausing outside the biology lab door, Liz took one more deep breath to steady herself. Kyle couldn't have moved the ship.

Not without a lot of help.

Somehow that wasn't a very comforting thought.

Isabel drove the Jeep through the suburban back streets of Roswell, heading for Alex's house. Max and Michael might have decided to leave Mr. Manes alone for the time being, but that didn't mean Isabel had to do the same.

Since Valenti died, Isabel had felt safe. Or at least
safer
than she'd ever felt before. The man who had haunted her nightmares for years was no more.

But apparently the maniac had friends right here in Roswell.

Isabel
had
to know if Alex's father was Clean Slate. Until she found out for sure, it would drive her crazy. The whole idea that the Major could belong to an agency that seemed dedicated to her personal eradication made her feel like she was itching all over her body. She'd met him. She'd had dinner at his table.

What if Alex's dad
is
Clean Slate and he's the one who removed the ship? Isabel wondered as she turned up the Maneses' driveway. He could be jeopardizing Alex's only chance to get home . . . and not even know it.

Isabel had no idea what she would do if she discovered the Major was part of the same horrible organization as Valenti, but she'd think of something. She'd have to. No matter what it took, she couldn't allow Alex's own father to get in the way of saving him.

No matter what it took.

Isabel killed the engine. She'd risk anything to get Alex home safely. Even snoop around in the house of a man whose mission in life could be tracking Isabel down, locking her away, experimenting on her, and then . . .

Isabel ordered herself not to complete the thought. She climbed out of the Jeep and headed up to the front door. This is for Alex, she repeated in her head. Think of Alex.

Isabel was unprepared to have Mrs. Manes answer the doorbell. She'd been ready to flirt with the Major and sweet-talk him into letting her look around. Isabel liked Mrs. Manes, but she had no idea what Alex might have told his mother about their breakup. With his dad, she could have been sure that Alex hadn't told him anything. Alex and his dad didn't do the talking thing much.