"You really are a freak," Cameron said, her voice shaky.
Michael shot her a look. "You're not going to faint on us or something, are you?"
"No way," she answered. "I don't want to spend the best years of my life singing that chain gang song. Let's blow this pop stand."
"Adam, when I grab you, all you have to do is scream your lungs out," Michael told him. He stood up and jerked Adam in front of him.
"Hey," Michael yelled. "If you want your daughter to live, drop the machine guns and the prods… now!"
Adam let out a shriek that Michael figured was only half faked.
"Stephanie," shouted the guard they had linked to.
"Yeah, we've got Stephanie," Cameron shouted. "Now put the weapons down and get in here, or get ready to say good-bye to your baby girl."
The guard they'd linked to dropped his machine gun. He threw down the cattle prod, unlocked the door, and rushed in.
"Your partner, too," Michael barked.
"Eaton, do it!" the guard in the cell cried.
Eaton hesitated. "I can kill with a touch," Michael yelled. "They told you that, right?"
"Eaton, they're going to kill my little girl!" the guard in the cell screeched.
Eaton threw down the machine gun and the prod and stepped into the cell.
"Get over to the cot, both of you," Michael ordered. When they obeyed, he backed out of the cell, still holding Adam in front of him. The second Cameron stepped through the doorway, he slammed the door shut and locked it.
"Which way out?" he cried,
"That's the way they brought me," Cameron answered, pointing. She scooped up one of the machine guns. "Come on!"
Michael didn't hesitate. He flew down the corridor after her, keeping his grip on Adam. She skidded to a stop in front of one of the huge metal doors. "We have to get through here!"
He didn't even bother with the molecules of the lock. He focused on the molecules of the door, shoving them together with his mind. The door screeched open with a hideous metallic crunching sound.
Cameron ducked through. Then Adam and Michael. And they were running again.
Earsplitting alarm bells started to ring. "I'll kill the little girl if I have to," Michael shouted, not even sure if anyone could hear him.
Cameron took a left, leading them into a long tunnel with a metal track down the center. "It's right down there," she yelled, her voice echoing.
This is actually going to work, Michael thought. The guards are holding back because they think we have the little girl. Although they'd probably figure it out in a few more seconds, as long as it took for Valenti to be informed.
"Okay, this is it," Cameron yelled. She slammed her fist against another metal door.
Michael concentrated and shoved it open. "Adam, you have to run. Run as hard as you can. If we get separated, go here." Michael made the connection, then sent Adam an image of the desert, then the town of Roswell and the Evanses' street, then Isabel and Max.
"Look out!" Cameron cried.
A metal grate slid back in the ceiling above them. A shot rang out. Cameron yelled in pain, and the machine gun fell from her hands. A fraction of a second later a guard swung down and grabbed her.
"Adam, go!" Michael cried. Then he lunged for the guard.
"Move, and I kill her," the guard yelled.
Michael froze. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Adam just outside the doorway. What was he doing? Why wasn't he moving?
"Adam, run!" Cameron screamed.
"You have to leave us. Go, go, go!" Michael shouted.
Adam hesitated, staring out into the night. It was too big, too empty. He couldn't go out there and live. It would swallow him up. He'd disappear.
"Now!" Michael yelled.
And Adam's feet were moving, flying across the desert floor. He stared down at them, only at them. It's as if they were moving without his control. Following Michael's order whether he wanted them to or not.
Left, right. Left, right. Taking him away. Away from Michael. Away from home. Away from everything he knew.
His body changed as he ran, his little bird legs lengthening, his feet spreading out, allowing him to run faster. Left, right. Left, right. Something coming up in front of him. Cactus. He'd seen it in a book that Dad had given him.
Not Dad anymore. Swerve. Run. And don't look up. Don't ever look up.
His heart pounded in his chest, in his ears, the beat picking up speed. He pushed himself to run faster, matching his stride to the thuds of his heart.
Adam kept his eyes locked on his feet, allowing his mind to go blank, his world narrowed down to the patch of desert directly in front of him. Rock. Jump. Left, right. Left, right. Don't look up.
Mesquite bush. Swerve. Too late. Adam's left foot tangled in it and he went down hard, sand scratching his cheek and getting in his mouth.
Adam lay there for a moment until he felt his heart slow down a little. Then he sat up. And the sky filled his vision, stretching outward to the horizon and beyond. Endless in every direction. The stars so far away. Farther than his mind could comprehend.
He shivered. He realized the air around him was cold. He'd never experienced cold before. Not like this. He'd washed his face and hands with cold water, yes. But the air at the compound was perfectly controlled. Always the same.
Adam curled his knees up to his chest, hugging himself. He felt a little warmer, a tiny bit better.
But it was still too big, too empty. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the sky. And he tried to stay very, very still.
Maria snapped open the plastic box of the Treachery and Greed on the Planet of the Apes video, then snapped it shut again and tossed it onto her night table. When she'd seen the movie on the shelf at the video store, she'd thought it was the perfect choice. But now she realized she only wanted to watch it if Michael was there to watch it with her.
Except even if Michael was back home, it's not like he'd necessarily come crawling through her window for a movie marathon. That kind of thing was probably reserved for the buddy Maria, not the Maria who exposed her guts and actually told Michael she loved him.
You don't know that, she told herself.
Do too.
Do not.
Do too. Do not. Do too.
The conflicting thoughts ricocheted through her brain until she wanted to scream. Then she heard something that instantly stopped her debate with herself-the sound of her window sliding up. Michael!
Maria sprang up from her bed and yanked her curtains back. Alex gave her a sheepish grin. "I broke that troll thing next to the back gate," he admitted. He peered up at her, his eyebrows drawing together. "I'm sorry. You really liked it, huh?" he added.
"That thing! No. Ick. It's hideous," she said quickly, trying to get the oh-God-I-really-wanted-you-to-be-someone-else expression off her face so as not to make Alex think she'd been struck by troll grief. She grabbed his hand and helped him through the window. "A guy my mom was going out with gave it to her, but she's about three guys past him now. Maybe you should do one of your lists on how not to impress a woman. Giving her a ceramic troll is up there."
"So, presents, they're pretty important, huh?" Alex asked. He shoved off his sneakers and flopped down on Maria's bed. "Oh, it's okay that I came over, isn't it?"