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It had felt good to tell her the truth. But it'd hurt, too. Almost more than he could bear.

"My name is Liz, and I'll be your chauffeur tonight," she told him. She tried to say it in a joking way, but he could tell the memory of his seizure, or whatever it was, was still raw in her mind.

Max tossed her the keys as they headed to the Jeep. "It's always been a fantasy of mine to have, well, not a female chauffeur-more like a female butler," he answered. He wasn't all that much better than Liz at hitting a jokey tone.

"You know, someone who does everything Alfred does for Batman but who does it while being a young, hot female instead?" Alex called after them, a hint of strain in his voice, too.

"Exactly," Max replied. He hoisted himself into the Jeep, trying to make the movement look easy, although it really took some effort now. One of the hundreds of little things that were becoming harder every day.

"You going to put your seat belt on?" Liz asked after she snapped hers in place.

"What's the point?" he asked, without thinking. Then he heard Liz's sharp intake of breath, and he quickly strapped himself in. This keeping-up-normal-appearances thing was trickier than he realized.

Liz turned the Jeep around and headed out the south driveway. About twelve minutes later they were alone on the highway, heading into the desert.

"I forgot how hard it would be to find that chicken rock Maria described now that it's dark," Liz commented.

"Michael, Isabel, and I can see better at night than during the day," Max reminded her. "It's good we divided the teams the way we did."

Except he probably would have preferred being matched up with Alex or Maria. Just sitting next to Liz, now that she knew the truth, poked more holes in his bubble. The feelings, the sorrow, the fear, the anger were finding ways in. And the anesthesia wasn't working quite so well.

***

Maria peered into the desert, searching for anything that looked familiar from seeing Valenti that night. It was so hard to tell. A lot of the desert looked like… the desert.

She wished she'd been paired up with Max instead of Michael. Being in the car with him was giving her the sweats, and she was trying to remember if she'd put on herbal deodorant before she rushed over to the Evanses' this morning. So much had happened since this morning.

Including Maria finally telling Michael she loved him. She took a quick peek at him from under her lashes. He was totally focused on scanning the desert as he drove. She had a feeling she could be sitting there naked and he wouldn't notice.

What was he thinking? Was he totally freaked out by what she said? Yeah, he'd hugged her. But he definitely hadn't said, "I love you, too." Maybe he would have if Isabel and Alex hadn't shown up. Then again, maybe he was too preoccupied with saving his best friend's life, Maria told herself.

A long, pissed-off-sounding horn blast jerked her out of her thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a beat-up Caddy riding on their tail.

"It doesn't occur to him just to pass us?" Michael complained. "It's not like there's not room. Nothing but room out here."

The guy in the Caddy gave another long honk. Maria turned around and waved for him to pass them. The guy didn't look at all appreciative. He looked royally-

Familiar. Familiar from when she saw Valenti. She tried to picture him with a machine gun strapped across his chest. "Michael, I think that's the guard from the compound where the ship is kept," she told him, her voice shaking with excitement. "Can you get me a better look?"

Michael angled the station wagon over to the shoulder. As soon as the Caddy passed them he pulled up alongside it so that Maria was even with the driver's side window. "If this is him, we won't need to worry about any chicken rock. He can lead us right there," Michael said.

The guy in the caddy rolled down his window. "Oh, now you want to go fast," he yelled. "Great."

Maria felt as if she'd stepped on an elevator shooting straight down. She was wrong. "No, the guard was a lot younger," she told Michael. "Sorry."

Michael dropped back, and the Caddy roared off. "Guess that would have been a little too easy," he muttered.

Maria felt like reaching over and touching his shoulder or his arm, just some little touch so that he knew he wasn't alone in all this. But she kept her hands locked in her lap and changed her focus to the task at hand.

Maria pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window and tried to concentrate every bit of her attention on finding the rock, checking the shape of every one she saw. Not-chicken. Not-chicken. Not-chicken.

About a hundred not-chickens later, Michael pulled into the desert and stopped the car. "Did you see something?" she cried.

"No, I felt something. A burst of fear," he answered.

"From Max or Isabel?" Maria demanded. She knew that the aliens could feel each other's emotions.

Michael shook his head.

"Then who? Oh, Ray. How strong was it? Do you think he's okay? Should we go find him?" Maria asked in a rush.

"Wait. Let me focus a minute," he answered.

Maria held perfectly still, the sound of her own breathing loud in her ears.

"I don't know who it is." Michael sounded amazed… and disturbed.

"How can you be sure what you felt isn't from Ray or Max or Isabel?" Maria asked. "It's just raw feeling, not thoughts or anything, right? All three of them have to be having pretty extreme emotions right now. Maybe that's why it feels different."

"It's, I don't know how to describe it. It's like different people have different flavors," Michael answered. "I don't recognize this one. It's not from anyone familiar."

"Flavors?" Maria repeated.

"I can't explain it better than that," he told her. "It's not something you can really understand if you haven't experienced it."

Maria nodded. I bet Isabel would understand, she thought. Is he wishing she was here with him right now?

***

"Wait." Alex pulled the Rabbit to a screeching halt. "Does that look like a chicken to you?" He pointed to a rock off to the left.

"That?" Isabel squinted. "A frog, maybe. Aren't frog legs supposed to taste like chicken?"

"You're looking at it from the wrong angle." He pulled her closer to him, breathing in her spicy perfume. "See, it's like a chicken pecking the ground. That's its beak."

"You're right." A huge smile broke across Isabel's face. "You're right! I think we found the chicken rock!"

Alex threw open his door, and they both raced over to the rock. It looked even more like a chicken up close. He hadn't been expecting to find it the first time out. He'd had his doubts that they'd find it at all. But here it was! The chicken rock! He let out a loud cluck and started beating his arms like wings. Isabel started clucking, too, and scratching her foot against the ground. They circled each other, clucking, pecking, scratching, and laughing. He was laughing so hard, his sides started to cramp. But he didn't care.

Max was going to live! Isabel was going to live! Michael was going to live!

Alex stopped clucking and grabbed Isabel. He swooped her off the ground and spun them both in fast, dizzying circles. He was obviously in the midst of some stress/relief-from-stress hysteria. But he didn't care! It felt too good.

"Put me down," she half laughed, half gasped.

He reluctantly slid her to the ground. She spun in one more slow circle, her laughter trailing off, her smile disappearing.

"What? We found the chicken rock! Yeah!" he cried.