That moment had caused Michael more sleepless nights than the act of killing itself.
He had also wondered how much of that moment had been payback for even more, for his previous life and his previous defeats and eventual death. And not just his death, but Max's and Isabels.
He knew Max blamed himself for that failure as well, but Michael knew that it had been his job to protect them all. After all, he was a soldier, a defender… a general, in fact.
In his fight with Agent Pierce, with Gomer, and many other times in his life, he'd felt like something else was taking over. What was it? His training? His nature? Or something that had been programmed into him when he had been re-created and sent to Earth? Michael didn't know, but whatever it was, Michael didn't like it.
And it scared him more than a thousand Agent Pierces ever would.
Kyle's hands shook for several minutes after Michael left. He hoped Michael hadn't seen how scared he had been. At first, he had thought that Gomer was only trying to scare him. Although it was a possibility, the possibility dimmed when the undercarriage of the car had pressed against his nose… and three tons of steel threatened to drop down farther.
But Gomer had looked scared himself when he had left. Michael hadn't really hurt him, but he could have… in fact, he nearly did. Even Gomer wasn't so stupid to miss that.
Kyle had to go back under the car to check the seal on the transmission. He forced himself to do it quickly because he couldn't afford to be afraid in his line of work. It took about ten minutes, and Kyle was glad to be fin- ished. He moved on to the Plymouth and replaced the points and plugs. He finished that quickly, then took both cars for a test drive. An hour later, he parked the second car outside. By then, his heart had stopped racing and he was feeling more or less normal… which was just as well, considering what he now had to do.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the office door and stepped inside.
Dawn flashed him her smile, and Kyle felt the last piece of cold fear melt away.
"Hey, you," she said.
Without thinking, Kyle felt himself smiling back. "Hey," he said.
She stared at him for a moment. Then Kyle remem- bered why he had come inside. "Did Dan leave any instructions for me?" he asked.
"Just a note," she said. Though she held the note in her hand, she did not reach out to hand it to him.
As a result, Kyle had to lean over the desk to take it. When his hand reached hers, she pulled the note back and Kyle had to lean over farther.
He lost his balance for a moment and started to fall onto the desk. Reaching out with his other hand, he stead- ied himself and found that he was inches away from Dawn. He could even feel her blond hair tickling his cheek. He felt her hand on his shoulder and Kyle couldn't help taking a deep breath, taking in her scent. Wow, did she smell good.
"Careful there, sugar," Dawn said, not taking her hand off his shoulder.
Kyle got up slowly and returned her smile. Dawn held the note out in front of her again, a teasing smile on her lips.
Just looking at her, Kyle knew immediately that she was trouble. Gomer was jealous and bad-tempered. And Kyle had a responsibility to his friends to make sure they all kept a low profile. Plus, even when he was a Roswell High School star athlete he had never gone out of his way to seek out trouble off the field. That went double for the last two years, when he had become part of the Great Alien Secret Society.
like his friends, he had become adept at avoiding trouble.
Just two days ago, he would have taken one look at Dawn and headed in the other direction. But that was two days ago.
He had changed his life completely in that time. One of the reasons he and his friends had hit the road was so they could stop hiding all the time. They had started running so they could relax a little. It gave them the best chance of a normal life. And there was nothing more normal than a little lighthearted fun with a pretty girl.
Reaching out, he took Dawn's hand and held it for a long moment before taking the note. "Thanks," he said.
"Anytime, sugar," she said.
12
When Michael walked in, Max jumped to his feet. "Where have you been?" he asked sharply… more sharply than he had intended.
Michael didn't answer for a moment. Setting his face, he said, "Gee, Dad, I guess 1 should have called.”
"Michael, this is serious. People are disappearing right and left in this town, and you take off for hours," Max chided.
"Actually, women are disappearing in this town, so I think I'm pretty safe. Plus… news flash… I can take care of myself," Michael said, holding up his hand. "You know, alien-whammy and all that," he added.
His friend was right, Max knew. He immediately regret- ted his tone. And if he knew Michael, things would get worse from here. Some combination of his friend's nature and the difficult childhood he'd spent with a violent drunk named Hank had conditioned Michael's response to disagreemtents.
Max decided to stop the escalating conflict before it got going. "Michael, it's not that…," he began, but his friend waved him off.
"Forget it, Maxwell. I just went for a walk," Michael said. "Next time I'll give you guys a heads up.”
Michael had surprised Max a couple of times in the last two days, but this was the biggest surprise yet. There was something different about Michael, Max thought, consid- ering his friend for a moment. Max saw something in Michael's face, but his friend quickly looked away, study- ing the changes in the room.
Something was bothering Michael. Maybe he and Maria had had a fight. It would not be unusual. In fact, it would be par for the course.
"What happened in here?" Michael asked, before Max could say anything.
Michael surveyed the room and then said, "I mean, what did you guys do in here?”
"Just freshened things up a bit," Isabel said. "It was a little depressing.”
Michael took in the changes. The walls, which had been battered and pitted Sheetrock, were now smooth. Before, the original color had been anybody's guess because of the grime on the faded walls. Now the walls were blue and looked freshly painted. Isabel must have been using her powers.
Looking around the room, Michael took in the rest of the changes. The shelf looked like it had been refinished. The hot plate looked like new, and so did the sink. The beanbag chairs looked new and were no longer held together with duct tape.
Isabel had reattached the television's antenna and cleaned up the set as well.
Michael shook his head. "Way to keep a low profile guys," he said. Then he turned to Max and said, "You allowed this?”
Max was uncomfortable, and it showed on his face.
"Haven't you heard? Max is just a fellow traveler, Michael. He's not making all the rules here," Isabel said.
Michael turned to her and said, "Why did this feel like your work?”
"Oh, lighten up, Michael. We just did something nice for the guy who's letting us stay here," she said.
"Very nice, and we could maybe explain the walls, but how are you going to explain that you reconditioned the appliances?" he asked.
Michael turned back to Max and said, "Well?”
Max put his hands up and said, "I was against it.”
"Well, as long as you lodged a formal protest," Michael said.
"Maybe I went too far on some of it, but we can always change it back before we go," Isabel said.
Michael shrugged and sat down on the floor. He looked at Max and said, "I just want to point out how screwy things have gotten if I am the voice of reason around here.”