There has to be another way, she thought, looking behind her. The creature was close behind them. The problem was that the balcony was just ahead of them and then it was at least thirty feet to the floor.
For a moment, she wanted to grab Maria so they could turn and fight. It was what Max would do, even if he knew the fight was lost from the beginning. Liz might have done it, too, except Maria was going too fast and was too close to the balcony for Liz to stop her now. She was going to go over, and Liz was going to watch her…
For the second time.
Liz felt a moment of helplessness, and then realized
that, while she didn't have Max's powers, it didn't mean she was powerless. And she didn't have to stop Maria. Of course, there was only one chance, and even if she succeeded in what she wanted to do, there was no guarantee that she or Maria would survive. Well, there were never any guarantees. She had learned that three years ago when she was shot at the Crashdown. A miracle had brought her back, and since then she had been living on borrowed time.
Liz Parker saw her one chance and took it. They were just a few feet from the edge. The only thing that pushed Liz to take action was that, in this instant, she was more afraid for Maria than she was of anything else.
Reaching out with both hands, she grabbed at the back of Maria's jeans, getting a tight grip on the denim. Then Liz took one step to the left and pulled with all of her might as she threw all of her weight to the left. The result was just what Liz was hoping for: They were still moving forward, but angling to the left. A fraction of a second later, Liz saw that Maria was going to miss the railing.
Instead, both girls were barreling toward the large, curving staircase. Liz felt a momentary rush of satisfaction. She had prevented her vision from coming true. Maria did not go over the balcony. But she and Liz were now racing over the edge of the staircase. Then they hurtled over the edge, and Liz felt her feet leave the floor.
She had a single clear thought as she and Maria launched themselves into space: It's a long way down.
Max woke up slowly. The closer he came to consciousness, the more he felt the pain in his head. For a moment, he
considered allowing himself to slip back into darkness. At least, it hadn't hurt so much when he was there.
No, there's something I have to do, he thought.
Then it all came flooding back: the house. Isabel gone. The creature at the top of the hill. There was danger to his friends… to Liz.
Max tried to push himself up and found that his body was not cooperating. He sent the commands to his arms, but they moved sluggishly and didn't push him hard enough to sit up… let alone get up.
He took an inventory of his pains and realized there were cuts and scrapes and a significant pain in his left shoulder, but the worst, by far, was the pain in his head. Slowly, he reached back with his hand and felt for the back of his head. When his fingers finally got there, they found his hair matted and wet. No, not wet, slick.
He was bleeding pretty heavily. He knew a blow to the back of the head could be serious and that there might be a concussion. He needed to take care of that before he did anything else, but his mind was slow, mushy.
Not a good sign, he thought. But his friends were depending on him…
Michael, he thought. Michael had fallen with him. Max tried to lift his head to look for his friend, or to call out, but his physical responses were off.
Definitely not good, he thought.
He would have to heal his himself first, at least his head. It was hard to concentrate, but he forced himself. Max kept his hand on the split in his scalp.
Summoning his powers and reaching out with his mind, he saw the split in the skin. That would be easy to
repair. But there was something else: His skull was cracked as well.
Focusing his energy, he willed the bone to heal. Then he brought the skin together, keeping his hand there to eliminate the swelling and any other damage in the area. After a few seconds, his head cleared and it was like waking suddenly from a deep sleep.
Max was alert, which made him even more conscious of the pain coming from half a dozen places on his body. He brushed them aside and got to his feet. His right knee protested slightly, but it held.
"Michael!" he called out, but there was no response. Looking around, he saw a tree behind him, which had a dent in the bark and a dark spot. That must have been where he'd hit his head. Looking up, he saw that he was maybe thirty yards from the top of the hill. He could see the path he had taken down when the creature had… what? What had the creature done to him and Michael? It had pushed them off the top, but it had never physically touched either of them. Did this thing have powers like his? Well, Max wouldn't be caught by surprise twice.
A few feet to his right, he saw what must have been Michael's path down the hill. There were broken saplings and flattened brush. Michael had come to a rest just above Max, maybe ten yards closer to the top. Max found the spot at the end of the trail. There was some blood there, but no Michael.
Just when Max thought Michael had gotten back up the hill on his own, he saw another path through the brush. This one was smoother and more regular. Suddenly, Max was sure that the creature had come back and dragged
Michael to the house while Max lay unconscious.
But why? And why leave Max? Too many questions and no time to answer them. Max started up the hill and felt his knee twitch. He ignored it, as he ignored the other cuts and scrapes… except the one on his left shoulder. That one was bad and made it hard to move his arm. He knew that soon he would have to fight. He couldn't afford the handicap, so he used his good hand and covered the area.
As he walked, he reached out with his powers. There was a deep puncture in his left shoulder that probably was from a broken branch. It healed quickly, which was a pleasant surprise. In the past, he had found that it was harder to heal himself than to heal others. And it usually required greater concentration.
A year ago he would not have been able to manage it that easily. His powers were growing, developing. And right now, that meant only one thing to him: He would be in a better position to save his friends.
It's my fault it has them, he thought. He had insisted they come here to hide from the Special Unit. He had allowed Isabel to sleep in her own room. And he had agreed to separate rooms for the rest of them because he had wanted to be alone with Liz.