Shades

7

Taking a deep breath, Isabel nodded to Jesse and tried to calm herself. The odds were astronomical of her father actually seeing the documents generated by the state police or other law enforcement bodies.

Jesse started talking to the 911-dispatch person at the other end of the cell-phone connection, giving the person the location and the details of the wreck.

Staying focused on the van, Isabel started moving forward again, walking along the top of the vehicle rather than the undercarriage. Her imagination filled her mind with the possible bloody carnage that might be waiting.

The van's windshield had shattered with the series of impacts. Small, cube-shaped pieces of safety glass glittered like diamonds in a spray across the paved parking area and the sandy picnic area. The pieces glistened among the shattered remains of the demolished picnic table, too.

Before Isabel reached the front of the van, Jesse caught her by the elbow and stopped her. She turned to face him.

"What are you doing?" Jesse asked.

"Checking on the driver," Isabel replied.

"Don't you smell the gasoline?" Jesse asked, pulling at her and trying to guide her away from the wrecked vehicle. "This van could explode."

"If this were a movie or a TV show, maybe," Isabel responded.

A tender look filled Jesse's face. "I'm serious, Isabel. I want you to back off. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm going to check on the driver," Isabel insisted.

"I can do that."

"You're suddenly invulnerable?"

Jesse stared to argue.

"We'll do this," Isabel said. "I've had first-aid courses."

Jesse looked like he wanted to offer a rebuttal to her decision, but before he got the chance, a woman's voice lifted in a terrified wail.

"My baby!" she screamed. "Someone help my baby!"

Isabel spun then, heading for the front of the van. A chill ran through her as she thought about a baby being aboard the wrecked van.

The gasoline smell became stronger. Heat baked into the ground, reminding Isabel that the danger of a fire was real, not something inspired by special effects in a show.

She reached the front of the van, dropped to her hands and knees, and peered inside the vehicle. After being out in the bright sun, adjusting to the darkness inside the van took a moment.

The driver fought against the seat belt restraints, trying desperately to reach into the backseat. She was in her middle or late twenties, with blond hair and pale features. Blood streaked her face, but more fright showed than pain. The air bag stood out from the steering wheel compartment.

Isabel couldn't see how bad the woman's head wound was, and she knew from first-aid classes that those kinds of wounds bled profusely. "Hey," she said as calmly as she could.

The woman still kept reaching into the rear of the van, but she looked at Isabel. "Help me!" she croaked.

"I will," Isabel said, then moved aside so Jesse could join her. "We will."

"My baby!" the woman said.

"We'll get your baby," Isabel promised. She peered into the back of the van.

Two more rows of seats were behind the captains' chairs. Boxes and bags from the cargo area littered the inside of the van. As she looked at all the destruction in the van, Isabel wondered how a small child could have survived the wreck. Don't think like that, she told herself. Everything is going to be fine. She's still alive. The child has got to be alive too. Just the same, Isabel wished Max were there.

Jesse reached into the van and pulled on the seat restraints holding the woman locked into position behind the collapsed steering wheel. "It's no use. The locking mechanism is jammed." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small Swiss Army knife. "I'm going to have to cut her loose."

"Not me!" the woman yelled. Tears filled her eyes. "Please! Check on my baby! They told me she was gone! They told me she was gone, but there she is!" She pointed. "I can see her! Please! She needs help!"

"I'll get her baby." Isabel slithered into the van.

"Don't," Jesse said, grabbing Isabel by the shoulder.

"I've got to," Isabel said. She stared into his eyes. "We need to get the mother out, Jesse. We're miles from Roswell. It'll be a long time before help arrives."

Indecision showed in Jesse's eyes.

"I'm not giving you a choice," Isabel said.

"Let me get the baby."

"You won't fit." Before Jesse could say another word, Isabel pulled herself into the van. With the vehicle overturned and lying on the driver's side, navigating through the interior was difficult.

"Isabel," Jesse called.

His body blocked most of the light coming through the shattered windshield. If the van had been a passenger model instead of designed for cargo transport there would have been windows all the way around. There would have been more light, and Isabel would have been able to peer in through the windows.

"The gasoline smell is getting stronger," Jesse warned.

Isabel knew that was true. She could smell the change herself. The van was quickly turning into a bomb, and the racing engine might be enough to detonate those destructive forces.

Placing her hand on the van's metal body, knowing Jesse couldn't see what she was doing from his position behind her, Isabel unleashed her power. Part of her alien heritage, part of all of their heritages, was the ability to affect electronic things. The van had electronic parts that controlled the engine and ignition.

Whatever special part of her brain or her senses that controlled her alien powers reached out for the pulse of

the van. She felt the electrical force, then created a surge of energy that raced throughout the van.

"Isabel," Jesse called. "I just felt an electrical surge. We can't stay…"

Then the van's engine hiccuped and died.

"Get her out, Jesse," Isabel said.

"My baby!" the woman moaned. "Give me my baby!"

"I'll get her," Isabel promised, but her heart sank when she saw the jumble of boxes and bags strewn across the backseats. She looked for a child seat but couldn't find one. Desperately, she moved boxes, not knowing if she was uncovering the child or burying her farther.

"There she is! There she is!"

Surprised by the woman's voice, Isabel glanced forward.

The woman's face was a mask of blood, and tears streaked her cheeks. But she was smiling. Jesse had almost succeeded in cutting the woman free, and she was able to turn in the seat.

"There's my little angel!" the woman cooed excitedly. "There's my little Abbie! Come on to Mother, Abbie! Come on!"

Confusion dawned on Jesse's face as he peered past the woman. He looked at Isabel and shook his head.

Isabel's heart nearly stopped. Her immediate thought was that something awful had happened to the baby. Overcoming a preternatural fear of seeing what was there, she turned and looked into the seat.

A child, surely no more than a year and a half old, sat curled up like a fetal ball at the bottom of the seat. Boxes framed her. She had blond wisps of hair and chubby cheeks. A pink bow sat atop her head, matching the frilly dress and

matching underpants. Pink tennis shoes with white laces covered her feet, looking impossibly wide and blunt.

"See?" the woman said. "That's my baby. That's my little Abbie." She smiled, then groaned as Jesse continued cutting her free of the seat restraints. "The doctors said she didn't make it, but 1 knew they were wrong. A mother always knows."

The oddity of the woman's words barely touched Isabel as she pushed her way into the backseat. "Hey," she said to the little girl. "Are you all right?"

The child glared at Isabel, folding her pudgy arms across her body.

Jesse helped the mother from the van, having to fight against her efforts to help Isabel get her little girl.

Shifting, Isabel reached for the child. Before she could reach her, though, the little girl cocked her head and snarled, baring her tiny white teeth in a feral grin. Surprised by the reaction, Isabel hesitated.

"Isabel," Jesse called.

Isabel tried twice to speak.

The child snarled and snapped. She looked at Isabel, then pointed a tiny, blunt forefinger. "You don't belong here."

Jesse peered into the shadows that filled the van. "What are you looking at?"

"The baby," Isabel whispered.

"I don't see a baby," Jesse said. "Where do you see her?" He reached forward and moved boxes, reaching through the child as if she wasn't there.

Before Isabel could reply, hesitating as she tried to frame an answer that would make sense, the little girl stood and bolted toward the front of the wrecked van. She scrambled over the boxes and seats on all fours, moving with the lithe leaps of a jackrabbit.

Drawn by the glint of malicious intent she'd seen in the child's face, Isabel followed. She scraped an elbow on a jagged piece of windshield safety glass as she clambered from the vehicle. Outside again, the glaring intensity of the sun hammered her.

"Isabel!" Jesse called frantically. He tried to get out of the van to follow her but struggled with the tight confines.

Dizzy and not comprehending the situation, Isabel watched as the little girl loped up to the stricken woman lying on the ground.

The woman reached up with her hands, unable to get to her feet because of her injuries.

"Mother!" the little girl called in sadistic delight. The child's face split into a gamine grin that looked years older and bloodthirsty.

"Abbie!" the woman whispered. Tears ran down her bloody face. "Oh god, Mommy didn't want to believe what the doctors told her. Mommy knew you were alive somewhere. I'm so sorry, my darling, that I wasn't there for you." She beckoned with her hands. "Come to Mommy, baby. Come to Mommy. Mommy swears we won't ever be apart again. Mommy will always be there for you."

The child-thing… Isabel could no longer think of the little girl in any other fashion… stood just out of the woman's reach and crossed her arms. "You killed me, Mommy."

Pain wracked the woman's features. "No, Abbie, that's not true! Oh god, that's not true!"

Jesse freed himself from the van and started for the woman. "She's hallucinating."

Isabel looked at him, knowing that for whatever reason, Jesse couldn't see or hear the child-thing. He started for the woman.

Afraid for Jesse, not knowing what the child-thing was capable of, Isabel stopped him. "Call nine-one-one again," she said. "Let them know what they're dealing with here."

Jesse hesitated.

"It would be the best," Isabel said. "I'll help her."

Grimly, Jesse nodded and took out his cell phone. He watched the woman as he spoke, concern tightening his face.

Isabel liked that about Jesse, liked the fact that he cared about someone he didn't even know. Still, she was worried what her dad was going to say when he found out both of them had been together.

"Abbie!" The woman sounded plaintive now, growing weaker from her injuries and shock.

"You killed me," the child-thing accused. "You didn't want me enough. You didn't try hard enough."

Disbelief swept through Isabel as she knelt beside the woman and tried to comfort her. "It's okay," Isabel whispered, but she never took her eyes from the belligerent child-thing. "Whatever you're seeing, whatever you're hearing, it's not real." Nothing could be that mean or spiteful.

The woman grabbed Isabel's arm in both her hands. "I didn't kill her! I swear!"

Isabel let the woman hold one of her hands while she smoothed her hair with the other.

"You killed me, Mommy," the child-thing accused. "You didn't want me. You wanted Daddy all to yourself. You were afraid you were going to lose him."

"No!" The woman sounded hysterical. "It was an accident, Abbie! The umbilical cord got wrapped around your neck! They told me it wasn't my fault! Not my fault!" She looked up at Isabel, holding on more tightly. "They told me it wasn't my fault!"

"I'm sure it wasn't," Isabel said.

The child-thing shrieked in rage. Without warning, the creature ran straight for the fallen woman.

Without thinking, intending only to deflect the child-thing so the creature couldn't harm the helpless woman, Isabel put her hand out. For a brief moment, she felt cold and hard flesh beneath her hand. Before she had time to take in anything else, the hum of a static electricity discharge crackled through the air.

A lightning bolt came from nowhere and struck the pavement nearby. The explosion rocked Isabel and knocked Jesse from his feet.

She glanced at Jesse, knowing he'd taken more of the brunt of the blast than she had. As she started to call out to him, a gray-green shape suddenly rose up from the woman.

Stunned, the lightning blast still ringing in her ears, Isabel watched as the gray-green shape grew to ten feet in height. The shape took on distinct features, becoming a stooped dragon… at least, that was as close as Isabel could come to describing the creature… with short wings, and a long snout filled with curved fangs. The scales held a shimmering silver coloration under the direct sun, but the mottled charcoal and emerald colors looked like gangrene.

The dragons eyes appeared multifaceted and actually moved back and forth in their orbits like camera lenses. A pair of antennae jutted up from the interior corner of the eyes, curving back over the dragon's head and twitching in perfect time. Unfolding forelegs that resembled those of a praying mantis and ended in serrated hooked claws, the creature swiped at her.

Isabel dodged back, unwilling to leave the unconscious woman's side. The hooked claws passed within inches of her face.

"Isabel." Jesse got to his feet again.

"Leave!" the dragon snarled at Isabel. "All of you need to leave this place or you will all die!"

Lightning flashed again, blinding in its intensity despite the brightness of day. This time, the lightning struck the van. Apparently enough gasoline had leaked from the vehicle to create a pool that ignited when the lightning seared into it. Isabel caught a brief glimmer of flames, then the van leaped into the air as the gas tank exploded.

The mass of flame-wrapped burning metal thudded back onto the ground hard enough to send a tremor through the earth. A blistering heat wave washed over Isabel, pulling at her hair and clothing. As she covered her face with her free hand, she watched the dragon dissipate, fragmenting like a computer-generated picture being torn away pixel by pixel.

In seconds only the unconscious woman and the burning van wreathed in flames and black smoke remained.

Isabel gazed down U.S. 285 and watched as the state police car roar toward them.

"I've got to call your father," Jesse said.

Isabel nodded. "Don't tell him I'm here."

A troubled look filled Jesses face. "I don't like lying to your dad."

"He's not ready for this," Isabel said.

"He may find out."

"And he may not," Isabel said. "If he doesn't have to know, I don't want him to know." She paused. "Not yet, Jesse. Not like this." And if there are any repercussions from that, III deal with them then, she thought.

Grudgingly Jesse nodded. He opened his cell phone and walked to meet the arriving state police car.

Gazing at the burning van, feeling the unconscious woman's hand in hers, Isabel suddenly remembered that Jesse hadn't seen the child-thing. The realization burned into Isabel's mind. The woman had seen the creature, and she'd seen the creature. The only thing different was her alienness. Even if she and Jesse got past the whole chemistry thing and discovered the attraction between them was real and not just a phase, they would still have to deal with her alien nature.

That had seemed to be a constant stumbling block for Max and Liz, no matter how much they seemed to genuinely care about each other. And Liz knows Max is an alien. Jesse doesn't have a clue about me. How am I… we… supposed to deal with that? Isabel felt all knotted up inside. She needed to do something, but she had no idea what.

The child-thing knew me, she reminded herself. Maybe the child-thing didn't know my name, but it knew that I was different. It hated me for that difference. She watched Jesse with the state policemen, knowing that one way or another her life was going to change again.

Heart pounding inside his chest, Max stopped when River Dog did. They stood in front of a small house with peeling paint and a collection of dreamcatchers and chimes hanging from the leaning front porch. The slight breeze made the chimes tinkle, and the sound was barely audible over the crash of destruction coming from inside the house.

River Dog turned to the two small boys holding his hands. "Stay here. I will care for your mother." He glanced up and caught the eye of an older woman, who immediately came forward and took the boys by the hands.

Something crashed inside the house.

A group of young men arrived and stood in the narrow street before the house. Max figured they'd been working on a construction project because they carried sledgehammers, crowbars, and hammers.

"This is Cathy Callingcrow's house," one of the men said. "What is going on here?"

River Dog held up a hand. "Let me handle this."

Another man elbowed his way through the gathering crowd. Max recognized George Grayhawk at once. The man didn't look any happier to see him there.

"What is goig on?" Grayhawk demanded.

"Grampa's spirit," one of the two small boys yelped. "He's inside the house."

Max caught the brief blur of motion from the corner of his eye. As he started to turn, a chair crashed through the

window, hurtling glass over the porch and the gathering crowd.

The woman drew back the two small boys as they started screaming in fear. Some of the men stepped back as well, herding the small children and other women back from the house.

"River Dog," Grayhawk spat. "This thing with our ancestors' spirits grows worse. They've returned to our homes, to the homes of their descendants, and given us warning to leave, but never before have they hurt anyone." He locked eyes with Max. "This is all happening because of the Visitors. Because of your involvement with the Visitors."

A low wail of pain and fear came from the house.

George Grayhawk led four men into the house.

"Come," River Dog told Max.

Knowing the Mesaliko tribe blamed him, Max figured the last place he belonged was inside someone's house. He wanted to leave, just get back into his car and get back to Roswell.

River Dog never even glanced back for him, only stepped up onto the swaying porch and charged into the house after the other men.

Making his decision, Max followed the shaman into the home. The woman's screams sounded louder inside.