"Answer him!" Michael said, his hand glowing for a moment. The agents jumped when Michael shouted, and for a second, Max saw fear on their faces. "Now!" Michael shouted.
"High energy tazer dart," Agent Spellman said.
Max knelt down next to the sheriff and looked at it.
"He's breathing, but his pulse is slow and erratic. I think the tazer might have affected his heart."
Max nodded. He pulled the tazer dart out of the man's chest. Taylor didn't respond at all.
Putting both hands on the sheriff's chest, Max reached out gently with his powers. He saw the heart. It was damaged. Some of the blood flow had been cut off. The problem was compounded by the fact that there were blockages on the major arteries leading to the heart. Max knew if he didn't act immediately, Sheriff Taylor would die before help came. He didn't hesitate. Max repaired the damage to the heart quickly, then he worked on the blockages. It took some extra time, but he felt they owed the sheriff something since he had been hurt while trying to help them. Immediately, Sheriff Taylor's color began to improve and his breathing became stronger.
A few seconds more and the sheriff blinked his eyes and started to come around. Acting quickly, Max put a hand on the man's forehead and put him to sleep for a little while. They had enough problems without dealing with the sheriff's questions right now.
Agent Spellman said, "What did you do to him, Max?" Max was surprised to hear the man use his name. Spellman continued: "We know who you are, Max Evans. You and your friends." Spellman looked at each of the others in turn and said, "Michael, Isabel, Kyle, Liz, and Maria. We know all of you."
These men were with the Special Unit. They wanted to take him and the others into the White Room to ask their questions and do their tests. Max had hoped that the Special Unit had been destroyed when Tess blew up the air
force base. Either some members of the unit had survived, or it had been reformed quickly. "Leave us alone," Max said, keeping his voice steady with effort.
"Can't do that," Spellman said. "What did you do to him, Max?" he repeated.
Max felt anger rise up in him. "I saved his life. You nearly killed him."
"That doesn't win you any points with us, Max," Spellman said, a sneer on his face.
It was then Max noticed that Spellman was bleeding from one cheek. There was a gash running under one eye. Max guessed it was from when he had blown up the agent's gun in his hand. "I just want you to leave us alone," Max said.
"That will never happen," Spellman said.
Then there was a sudden burst of energy as Michael hurled a blast at the street next to the agents. The men ducked in surprise but quickly recovered.
"You can kill us, Evans, but we'll be replaced tomorrow and then the Unit will find you… sooner or later. You can't hide forever."
"Let me have them," Michael said. "Let me suck out their brains."
Max saw something in his friend's eyes and decided to play along. "It will just draw more attention to us," he said.
Michael showed the disappointment on his face. "But we haven't eaten properly in so long." Max found that he couldn't help smiling. Michael smiled back, and Max was grateful for the thousandth time that when his mother had sent him to Earth, she had sent Michael with him.
"This may be a joke to you, Evans, but there are forces within the United States government that take your alien agenda very seriously," Spellman said.
"We don't have an agenda. We just want you to leave us alone," Max said.
"If you have nothing to hide, then you can come back with us and we'll clear this up right away. We'll finish your interview, Max. Then we'll start on your friends. I think we'll save your girlfriend for last," Spellman said.
Something in Max snapped, and he was moving toward the agent. For a moment he didn't know what he was going to do. There was no room for planning when images of the White Room filled his head. He found there was something that frightened him more than going back to the White Room himself: It was Liz going there.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked for a moment until he saw that it was Michael next to him. "We've got to get out of here, Max," Michael said.
"What will your friends in the other SUV do now?" Max asked.
Spellman answered, "They pulled back when they saw us engage you. When we don't answer the phone, they will assume we were lost. They will call for more agents, a lot more agents. So go ahead and kill us, Max. Kill us and run. You won't get far."
"Take your jackets off, slowly," Max said. The agents complied, and Max saw the guns strapped to their chests as well as the phones on their belts. "Throw the cell phones and guns down very slowly," he added. The men did as he said as Max kept his hand up, ready to respond if they tried anything.
"Pants, too," Michael said. Both the agents and Max looked at Michael in surprise. Michael ignored the looks and said, "Pants, now!"
The two men took off their pants and revealed ankle holsters, which also held small revolvers.
"Throw them on the pile, and step back," Michael said.
Max ran his hand over the pile and melted the guns and phones into a single, useless mass.
"Very impressive, Max. We know all about what you can do, you know," Spellman said.
"Then there's just one more thing you need to know," Max said. "We don't want trouble. We don't want to hurt anyone, but we will protect ourselves. Go back and tell them that."
Agent Spellman looked at him for a long moment and then said, "There's one thing you need to know, Max. You have other enemies and other people watching you. The Unit got a call telling us where to look for you."
"Who is it?" Michael shouted into Spellman's face.
"I don't know," Spellman said, sneering.
"Get out of here," Max said. He gestured the way they had come. "It's a long walk to town, but you might be able to flag down a ride."
"You're just going to let us walk away?" Spellman said.
"Tell them what I told you," Max said.
"It won't make any difference," Spellman said.
"Just tell them," Max said.
Spellman and his companion reached down for their clothes.
"No," Michael said. "Leave the pants and the jacket."
"What?" Spellman said.
"I said leave them," Michael said. Then he kicked the clothing into a pile and destroyed it with a burst of energy. Max was glad there was no traffic on the road. Things would have been much harder for them if there had been witnesses to call in their clearly suspicious activity.
"Why?" Spellman said.
"Because I don't like your attitude. And because we were having a real nice drive until you and Mr. Giggles here crashed the party," Michael said.
"Start walking," Max said.
"This isn't over, Max," Spellman said.
Michael stepped forward. "Okay, shirts off now!"
The agents jumped and stared blankly at him.
"Now!" Michael repeated. "Do it or I'll melt you into paste." He held up his hand threateningly.
"I would do what he says. He can be… unpredictable when he's angry," Max said.
Reluctantly, the men took off their ties and white shirts. Now they were left with only their shorts and undershirts.
Max found himself smiling, and saw that Michael was as well. "I'm glad you think this is funny, but when… "
"Shut up!" Michael said. "You just don't get it. Now take off the T-shirts."
The agents complied, and Michael said, "Another word and you know what will happen."
With that, the two men, wearing only their underwear, turned and headed back the way they had come.
Liz watched as Max and Michael quickly put the sheriff in the squad car. They sat him up in the seat, reclining it as much as possible.
"Are we just going to leave him?" Maria asked.
"We don't have a choice," Michael said. "It's pretty warm… he'll be okay until he wakes up."
"That will be in maybe an hour. That means we'll be lucky to have that much head start," Max said.