The Dark One

HANG ON. ONLY TEN MORE SECS.

He dropped the paper and sat down next to her on her bed. He held out his hands, all ten fingers up.

"One," he mouthed as he folded one of the fingers down.

The rasping sound of the skin of his finger brushing against the skin of his palm made Isabel's teeth feel electrified, but she kept her eyes on Michael's hands as he continued his countdown. When he had three fingers still up, the bout passed.

Isabel wrapped both her hands around one of his. "Thanks," she whispered.

"You want water? More blankets? Anything?" He sounded so eager to do something for her.

"Just sit here with me, okay?" Isabel asked, tightening her grip on his hand.

Michael nodded. He turned his head toward the TV, but not before Isabel caught the sheen of unshed tears coating his eyes.

Poor Michael. Poor her. Poor everybody.

Oh, stop it, she ordered herself. She turned her attention to the TV, too. Poor people on the show was more like it. They all needed someone to dress them in the morning. And the hair-forget about it. Everyone on the screen should shave their heads and try again.

"See, here's the deal," Michael said in a bad Texan accent, imitating one of Jerry's guests. "My girlfriend, she likes to dress like a man. Which is okay. Except that whenever she does, she keeps telling me that I'm fat, and it really, really hurts my feelings."

"That's way too tame for Jerry," Isabel told him. "It's more like, I can't go to bed with my girlfriend unless I dress like the Easter Bunny and my girlfriend dresses-" She paused and struggled to pull in a breath. "Dresses like a giant polka-dot egg."

Michael laughed. He was obviously relieved to see her talking again. "Why polka dot?" he asked.

"That's… that's the only part that…" Isabel had to stop for breath again. Suddenly she couldn't breathe and talk at the same time anymore. "… sounds strange to you?"

"Well, yeah," Michael said, struggling to keep a straight face. He used the edge of his flannel shirt to wipe the beads of sweat off her upper lip. "You sure you don't want some water?" he asked.

"That… sounds good," she answered. She wanted to give him something to do, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to get the water down. Her body was changing-drying up inside. Withering. She could feel it. And she wasn't sure that her esophagus would be able to handle bringing down the water. It might just… crumble.

Michael rushed back from the bathroom, holding a plastic cup almost overflowing with water. He sat down next to her again, slowly, careful not to jar her, then cradled her shoulders and brought the glass to her lips. She managed a tiny sip but shook her head when he wanted to give her more.

"Keep… holding me," she said. Michael set the glass on the night table and stretched out on his side next to her, arm still around her shoulders. "I think…" She drew in a wheezing breath. "… you should ask Maria to dress up… like an egg for you."

Michael used his sleeve to blot her forehead. "Okay, you're officially delirious," he told her. His voice was casual, but his gray eyes were serious and watchful.

Isabel tried to moisten her lips, but her tongue was too dry. Little pieces of skin were flaking off it. "She… loves you."

And Isabel knew Michael would need Maria. Especially if-Isabel let the thought slip away.

Of all the humans, Maria was the one he'd really let in. Isabel suspected that he might have revealed even more to Maria than he had to Isabel and Max. Things about his foster homes. He'd never talked about his foster homes to Isabel, close as they were.

"She loves… you," Isabel repeated.

Michael rubbed his spiky black hair with his free hand. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that," he muttered. He leaned closer until his face was inches from hers. "Look, Isabel, I don't know how much longer… I think I should teleport and get the crystals. Just in case."

"No!" Isabel cried. Then she started to cough so hard, she feared she'd shake her body apart.

"Maybe there was something Trevor had to do to survive the akino. Neither of us thought of that," Michael exploded when her coughing fit had passed. "You can't expect me to let you die."

Isabel reached up and cupped his face with her hands. "You have to. Do you hear me?" she demanded fiercely. She sucked as much breath as she could into her withered lungs. "It's my decision."

She looked him in the eye to make sure he absolutely understood her.

"Mine."

"They're gone," Max announced, glancing from Liz to Adam to Maria as soon as they were all seated in Michael and Adam's kitchen. "If they teleported, they could be anywhere."

"Michael's car is gone, too," Adam volunteered. He pulled his chair closer to the kitchen table, moving it closer to Liz's chair at the same time. She was glad he had. Now she could feel the warmth of his body radiating into hers, although their shoulders weren't quite touching.

Max let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, good. Then we should have no problem finding them. There are so few places you can drive."

Liz reached over and touched Adam's arm lightly, trying to signal him that he shouldn't take what Max said personally. She thought she caught a flicker of emotion on Max's face as he noticed the touch, but who knew what had caused it? Maybe the consciousness had expressed a need to know the composition of her nail polish or what the significance of her silver snake bracelet was.

Or maybe, just maybe, in that moment Max had been Max enough to experience a twinge of jealousy. She always used to know what he was thinking, but lately she had no idea. It was as if he existed in two worlds at the same time, and any reaction he had could be to something she couldn't see or hear or really understand.

"Michael won't let anything happen to her," Maria said. She twined one of her curls around her fingers so tightly, Liz expected her to give a yelp of pain. "If she gets too bad, he'll teleport back for the crystals."

"You're forgetting he's as terrified of joining the consciousness as she is," Max said. He tilted back his chair and snagged the plastic bottle of dish-washing soap off the counter. He squirted a little bit onto his finger and rubbed it into his skin. Liz and Maria exchanged a worried glance.

"Could you contact Michael on the dream plane?" Liz asked Max. He raised his finger and sniffed the soap. "Max! I said could you-"

"I heard you," Max answered. "But what would I tell him? He knows what's going to happen. He knows Isabel's going to die." Max jerked to his feet, knocking over the chair. "If that's not enough to convince him, what would?"

"What about Trevor?" Maria asked. She reached down and righted Max's chair. "If we could contact him-"

"Yeah, Maria, let's go find the guy who tried to kill me," Max snapped, his eyes flashing. Liz had never seen him so angry. It was almost comforting to see that he was so emotionally involved in something on this planet.

"We're all just trying to come up with some way-any way-to help Isabel," Liz reminded him firmly.

"I know," Max answered. He sounded so exhausted, so hopeless, that Liz longed to rush over and wrap her arms around him. But that wasn't possible. Not anymore. And anyway, it might end up being the consciousness that felt most of the embrace, and Liz couldn't deal with that.

Max wandered over to the fridge, opened the freezer door, and stuck his head inside.

"What is he doing?" Adam whispered. Liz shrugged, her heart heavy. The consciousness probably wanted to feel winter.

"The only reason I suggested Trevor is that there's at least a chance he was telling the truth about surviving the akino without making the connection," Maria continued. Max didn't move or acknowledge her in the slightest. His head was still in the freezer. "If there's even a chance that he could tell us how-"

"Wait a second!" Liz exclaimed, suddenly seeing everything perfectly clearly. "That's where they'd go. To Trevor."

"Michael hates Trevor," Max said, his voice coming out distorted by the freezer.

"I know. But Michael won't let Isabel die. And he won't force her to join the consciousness," Liz answered in a rush. "Trevor is his only alternative."

Max banged his head on the top of the freezer as he turned to face her. "That just leaves us with one little problem-we have no idea how to find Trevor, either," he said. "Adam, do you know if they've been in contact?"

"I don't think so," Adam answered, looking at the floor.

Silence filled the kitchen.

"Where is Alex, anyway?" Maria suddenly demanded.

"Um, I think he's at the movies with some girl," Liz answered, piling her long hair on top of her head and then letting it coil down her back.

Maria stood up and grabbed her coat. "I'll be back," she told them, attempting an Arnold accent. She picked up the keys to Max's Jeep from the table and rushed out of the kitchen.

"Where is she going?" Max asked, sitting down again.

"Don't look at me," Liz replied quietly, acutely aware that she was now alone with Max and Adam.

"So what do we do now?" Adam asked, his gaze flicking from Max to Liz.

"There's nothing we can do," Liz said, hating to admit it. At that moment all she really wanted to do was run after Maria-get the heck out of here ASAP. "We just have to wait and hope Michael decides to contact us."

Adam took her hand and twined her fingers with his. Liz caught another flash of emotion from Max. She automatically started to pull her hand away. Max had enough to deal with right now.

But as she watched, his eyes went dull and lifeless, his mouth slackening. Liz tightened her fingers around Adam's and tried to think only about the feeling of his warm hand.

Maria pulled the Jeep up to the mall entrance closest to the movie theater, tires squealing.

"That's not a parking place," someone shouted. She didn't answer. She ran to the doors and burst into the mall, then raced down the walkway to the movie theater, through those doors, and straight past the usher.

"I didn't see a ticket," he called after her.

"I don't have one," Maria answered, heading toward the closest of the multiplex's screens. The usher snagged her by the elbow.

"You're not going anywhere without a ticket," he said.

Why couldn't it be someone from school? she thought. Why did it have to be some Guffman High guy who acted like having a flashlight was only one step down from a badge and a gun?

"Here's what's going to happen," Maria told him, going into full Arnold mode. "I'm checking each theater until I find my friend, then we are both leaving."

"You are not-" the movie cop began.

"If you don't let go of my arm, I'm going to start screaming about roaches in my popcorn and a rat tail in my Twizzlers and-"

The Guffman kid turned a red that perfectly matched his cheesy uniform vest. "Fine. Okay. You can go in," he said quickly, releasing her elbow. "But don't bother any of the other paying customers."

"Thanks, sweetie," Maria said over her shoulder. She plunged through the closest double doors and waited impatiently for her eyes to adjust. Then she scanned the rows for Alex. The theater was packed. It was going to take way too long.

Maria marched to the front of the theater and positioned herself in front of the screen, ignoring the popcorn, Hot Tamales, and Junior mints that immediately started flying at her. "Alex Manes, if you're in here, you have three seconds to get your butt into the lobby."

She didn't see anyone stand up, so she bolted back down the aisle, her feet making sucking sounds where someone had spilled a giant soda, and flew back into the lobby. The next auditorium was playing a Julia Roberts flick. Perfect date bait, she thought. This is where he'll be.

This time she didn't bother going to the front of the theater. She just swung open the doors and bellowed, "Alex Manes. I know you're in there. Get your skinny white butt out here-now!"

A tall figure in the back row stood up. "Maria?"

"That's right. I need to talk to you," she yelled.

"Is that your girlfriend or something?" a female voice asked over the shouts of "shut up" from the rest of the audience.

"No, I'm his mother," Maria called back. "And I'm taking him home."

Alex sidestepped out of the row of seats and reached Maria in four long strides. He propelled her back into the lobby and closed the door behind them.

"What is your problem?" he demanded.

"My problem is that just because you happen to have become a babe, you've totally forgotten who your friends really are," Maria snapped.

"And I should do what? Spend every second with the UFO-lovers club?" Alex demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What you should do is stop thinking with whatever it is you've been thinking with and start thinking with your brain." Maria roughly brushed some popcorn crumbs off the front of his sweater. "We need you, Alex."

He pulled two Hot Tamales out of her hair, not bothering to be gentle. "I'm not helping you go after DuPris, if that's what this is about," Alex answered, his voice low. "There is nothing we can do against his power. We-"

"This isn't about DuPris. It's about Isabel," Maria told him.

Some of the color instantly left Alex's face, and Maria knew she had his attention.

"Tell me," he demanded. He pulled her over to one of the padded benches in front of the bathrooms, as far away from the usher as they could get.

"She entered her akino, which you'd know if you hadn't decided to become Roswell's own sex bunny," Maria said.

"It's the girls who are the bunnies," Alex corrected, rubbing the back of his neck. "Did Isabel make the connection to the consciousness?"

"No. She refused." Maria felt un-Arnold tears sting her eyes. "Isabel and Michael took off somewhere without the communication crystals. She's out there someplace dying, and we don't know how to find her."

"Oh, my God," Alex said, his face almost completely white. "I still don't know what you want me to do, but I'm there."

Maria gave him a fast hug. "I knew you would be." She checked over her shoulder to make sure the usher wasn't listening. He was twirling his flashlight like a cowboy and replacing it in an imaginary holster. Not a problem.

"When we were trying to get you back from you know where, your father found DuPris before we did," Maria explained. "He must have some kind of Clean Slate tracking device. You've got to get it from him."

Alex nodded. "It's not going to be easy. My dad has refused to answer even one question about his connection to Clean Slate. But I'll get it done."

He stood up and pulled Maria to her feet, and they headed for the exit. "You'll have to drive me."

"Oh, your girls pick you up, huh, stud?" Maria teased, relief making her giddy. "Wait a sec," she said as they reached the doors. She hurried over to the concession stand and grabbed a handful of napkins. The usher looked like he wanted to say something but didn't.

Maria rushed back over to Alex and handed him the napkins. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I know your dad well enough to be sure he's not going to want to listen to you if you have lipstick all over your face," she explained.