The Vanished (9 page)

She put the iced tea on a tray, along with a bottle of beer and a tall glass. Maybe we'll even discuss what to get Michael's girlfriend for Valentine's Day and stuff, Maria thought, like I do with Alex.

Why don't I just stick needles in my eyes while I'm at it?

As she brought the tray over to the tourist couple, Maria continued her conversation inside her head. Not pins, but needles, she clarified to herself. Because needles have nothing to stop them from traveling through your bloodstream until they pierce your heart.

Maria put the tourist woman's iced tea down too hard on the table, splashing some on the woman's T-shirt.

“Yikes, sorry,” Maria said. “Here.” She pulled a handful of napkins out of her apron and handed them to the shocked woman. “The tea's on the house.”

Then Maria noticed the woman's T-shirt. Or rather, what was printed on it.

It was a logo for
My Favorite Martian,
the old TV show.

As Maria gave the guy his beer, she glanced at his T-shirt, too. Tourist couples often had matching or similar slogans on their shirts, which always amused Maria.

But his didn't match. Instead it proclaimed, I've Gone Underground . . . in Carlsbad Caverns! over a picture of the gigantic cave's yawning mouth.

Carlsbad Caverns, Maria thought, staring at his T-shirt. Could —

“Miss, is there something wrong?” the man asked.

“Uh, no,” Maria replied. “Sorry, I was just spacing out. Are you ready to order your food?”

“Ten minutes ago,” the woman piped up.

But Maria barely heard her.

Carlsbad Caverns. Stalactites? Check. Stalagmites? Check. Bats? Check. A possible hideout or whatever for DuPris, down deep in the cavern where no tourists or explorers ever went?

Check.

“Miss?” the man at her table asked. “Can we just forget about the food and get a check for the beer?
Quickly?”

Check.

Liz grabbed the dashboard for support as Max drove over a pothole and her knee slammed into the center console. “That was pleasant,” she grumbled, trying in vain to get comfortable. “We have to get ourselves a bigger car.”

She was mashed in the shotgun seat of Max's Jeep with Maria, and she felt like her legs were going to be eternally cramped. Max was driving — somehow managing to hit every bump — and Adam, Isabel, and Michael were in the backseat.

Just be thankful that Papa let you come on this trip at all, Liz told herself. She loved her father, but the strain of constantly proving herself stable, responsible, completely Liz-not-Rosa was almost too much sometimes. She was hoping that the fact that he'd approved this weekend trip to Carlsbad Caverns meant he had actually developed some kind of trust in her.

Of course, Liz thought with a pang of guilt, he thinks Maria's mother is coming along with us. But still.

It hadn't hurt that Carlsbad Caverns was less than a hundred miles from Roswell. It was a major tourist destination and a favorite campsite for lots of families in town. The grounds around and above the vast network of caves were a national park, and her father had been relieved to hear that the park was policed by rangers. Liz had known to come to that discussion armed with ammunition in the form of information off the Internet.

“I am so psyched for this trip!” Maria called out suddenly, turning to grin right in Liz's face. “I haven't been camping since forever.”

“This is not a pleasure trip,” Isabel said grumpily. “We're going there to find the guy who killed our parents.”

“And hopefully find a way to get Alex back,” Max added.

For a long moment they were all silent, all thinking about Alex.

“Still,” Michael finally said, “I brought marshmallows.”

Everyone cracked up, including Isabel, releasing the heavy tension. Liz caught Max's eye and smiled. Marshmallows, campfire, dark starry sky. It could be a pretty romantic night. If Max could stay focused on her long enough to enjoy it with her.

Liz glanced in the rearview mirror to see if Adam was staring at her. She had that hot back-of-the-neck feeling that made her think he was. Just as Max changed lanes, she caught sight of a small blue clunker a few cars back abruptly swerving to follow them. Liz's heart gave a hard double thump.

She craned her neck to look out the back, but Adam was blocking her view. And yes, he was staring. “Duck for a sec,” Liz told him.

Sure enough, a blue Nissan Sentra was keeping pace with the Jeep. “Speed up a little,” Liz said to Max. “I want to see something.”

“Your wish is my command,” Max said.

“Oh, please,” Isabel said with obvious disgust.

Liz ignored her. “Maybe pass somebody, too,” she suggested.

Michael sat up straight. “Is somebody following us?” he asked.

“That's what I'm trying to figure out,” Liz replied.

Max accelerated, and the blue Nissan sped up, too. And as Max passed a slow truck in the right lane, the Nissan zoomed closer.

Liz's stomach dropped. “Oh yeah. We're being followed,” she declared. “What do we do?”

“Is it the Major?” Isabel asked.

“I don't know. Can you see from back there?” Liz asked. “I can't make him out. Slow down a little, Max.”

Max pressed his lips together and did as she asked. Caught off guard by Max's sudden deceleration, the Nissan caught up to the Jeep. And Liz could see that it wasn't Mr. Manes at the wheel.

It was Kyle Valenti.

“What does he want?” Isabel muttered, tension putting a sharp edge on her voice.

“After the way he freaked out on me, who knows?” Liz replied. “I told him I didn't know anything about his father, but he didn't come close to believing me.”

“Like he would have believed the truth,” Michael put in. “‘Yeah, I know what happened. An evil alien turned your dad into a one-man Hiroshima'?”

“You're right,” Liz agreed.

“He saw us!” Adam called out. “I mean, he saw us seeing him.” Adam cleared his throat. “He knows he's been spotted.”

Liz kept her eyes locked on the rearview mirror. Kyle accelerated until the Nissan was practically kissing the Jeep's bumper. His eyebrows knitted together, and his eyes grew squinty.

“Ohmigod!” Isabel cried. Her startled shout was still lingering in the air when Kyle rammed them from behind. The crunch of metal and the screeching of tires rang out as Max fought to keep the Jeep steady.

“Is he crazy?” Max shouted.

“Very possibly,” Liz shot back, her heart going into high gear. She braced both hands against the dashboard.

Kyle bumped the Jeep again, shoving them to the left. He was playing for keeps, trying to force them into oncoming traffic.

“Do something!” Maria screamed. “Can't you blow out his tire?”

“I think he's close enough for us to aim, even though we're going so fast,” Adam answered.

“Let's try it before he turns us into roadkill,” Michael yelled, grabbing hands with Adam and Isabel.

A second later Liz heard a sharp report, like a gunshot, echo behind the Jeep. Liz watched through the rearview as Kyle's car started wobbling and then went careening off the highway into the shrubs and cacti of the desert. In moments they'd left him far behind.

“Good work,” Max said.

“My friends, the superheroes,” Maria added proudly.

“Do you think he had any idea where we were headed?” Michael asked, still staring out the back window.

“I didn't tell him,” Liz replied, “although he could pretty easily find out by asking my father, if he thought of it.”

“I wouldn't worry about it,” Max said. “The park is huge. He'll never find us in there.”

“Yeah, he's history,” Isabel said.

Liz hoped Isabel was right. But Kyle could be persistent. And if Sheriff Valenti had told him anything about alien powers, a blown-out tire wouldn't make him give up.

It would just make him more suspicious.

“Hey, Max,” Adam said, pulling a small gray laptop out from under his feet. “Why did you bring your computer?”

“I thought I might work at decoding some of those files Isabel found at the Major's,” Max answered. “I don't think I'm gonna have much luck, though. I don't have the right software. And I don't think it's anything we can pick up at The Wiz.”

Adam flipped open the screen and hit the power button. The computer whirred to life. “You don't need software,” he said. “I used to do this all the time at the compound.”

He opened up one of the files, and it flashed onto the screen — a jumbled mass of gibberish.

“Wait a minute,” Michael said, shifting in his tight seat. “What do you mean, you don't need software?”

Adam smiled. “You guys are going to love this,” he said. He loved it when he could show his friends a new power. At least then he didn't feel like the world's biggest two-year-old, asking stuff like, “What's Elvis?”

“It's like that Magic Eye book Ray had in the living room,” he explained. “All you have to do is stare at the code for a while and eventually your brain sorts through the garbage and you can read the file.”

“Seriously?” Isabel asked. “It's that simple?”

Adam shrugged. “Well, it takes some concentration, but it's not that hard.”

“Cool. We have a secret weapon,” Maria joked. Taking a deep breath, Adam gazed at the screen. You can do this, he thought. Sheriff Valenti hadn't exactly been a candidate for Father of the Year. But Valenti
had
been good at teaching Adam how to use his powers in many different, useful ways, even if most of those ways were violent. Adam had always been told that those practice exercises were “games,” when actually Valenti was training him to be a living weapon or experimenting on him like a lab rat.

What a difference it was to use his powers to help his friends instead of to destroy Valenti's enemies.

For the next ten minutes Adam stared at the screen. His eyes started to burn, and a little pin-prick of pain started digging into the back of his neck. But nothing was coming together. No pattern emerged. Frustrated, Adam closed the file and opened another in the folder.

“Tough going?” Michael asked.

“It's like the most complex code or cipher I've ever seen . . . times ten,” Adam explained.

“Well, keep at it,” Michael said. “You're the only one of us who can even begin to make sense out of that garbage.”

Adam nodded, hoping Michael couldn't see how much what he'd just said meant to Adam. He concentrated on the new file and felt a little jolt as the symbols in front of him seemed to separate into distinct layers. The first four layers were just screens to confuse anyone who got their hands on this file, but the fifth layer . . .

The fifth layer had words.

As Adam read, his stomach turned over in revulsion. He couldn't believe that there were people on this planet who would do such a thing . . .
plan
such a thing. The very idea of what he was reading made him want to cry, scream, tear out his hair — and fight back.

When he had finished, Adam sat for a moment, absorbing the magnitude of the horror he'd just read. How was he supposed to tell his friends?

“Um . . . you guys?” Adam called out, interrupting various conversations floating around the Jeep. “I managed to decode one of the files.”

Instantly he had everyone's attention. The way Liz's eyes focused on him made Adam swallow with nervousness, so he turned to look at Michael.

“It's plans for a weapon,” Adam said. “A chemical weapon.”

“What does it do?” Maria asked.

Adam closed his eyes.

“It recognizes alien life-forms — and destroys them.”

Maria's heart was slamming against her rib cage as she dug in her woven purse for her vial of cedar oil. She knew it would calm her down, and she'd never needed calming more badly than she did at that moment.

“A chemical weapon?” Isabel said faintly.

“It looks like all they have to do is release this gas into the air and it takes effect immediately,” Adam said slowly. “But only on extraterrestrial cells.”

“What is wrong with these people?” Isabel asked. “Why do they hate us so much?”

Maria found the bottle she was looking for, unscrewed the cap, and inhaled. She tried to picture herself walking through a forest of the ancient trees, but all she could see was people she loved lying dead on the ground.

“Houston, we have a problem,” Michael announced. “Another one.”

Maria followed his gaze and caught a glimpse of flashing lights. Red and blue lights. A police cruiser was approaching up the highway. With a gasp Maria spilled the entire contents of the vial into her lap.

“Max, you'd better pull over,” Liz said.

“Can't we just blow out the police car's tires, too?” Adam asked.

“Not a good idea,” Michael answered. “They could just radio ahead and get someone else to stop us.”

“Maria, can't you do something about that smell?” Isabel asked. “It's gagging me.”

“We're in a Jeep. Deal,” Maria snapped as Max slowed down and drove onto the shoulder.

The cruiser pulled up behind them, and Maria was stunned to see Sheriff Dodson climb out of the police car and stride up the road, carrying a lumpy, rolled package.

Is she Clean Slate? Maria thought frantically. Is that one of the Major's chemical weapons she's carrying?

“This is all we need,” Isabel whispered.

The sheriff stopped next to Maria and nailed her with a cool glance that made Maria want to confess everything, even stuff she hadn't done. “Hi,” Maria said in a rush. “I know we're not supposed to ride with two of us in the front seat like this, but the Jeep was the best car to take camping, and — ”