The Stowaway Page 11

  Cameron knew if she stood there much longer, she’d wuss out. She shoved open the door and ran toward the man as fast as she could. She pretended the couch was a track hurdle and leaped over it.

  Her outstretched leg slammed into the back of the guy’s head and knocked him to the ground. Cameron landed beside him. Which was pretty much the end of her nonexistent plan.

  The eroded metal surrounding the group clattered to the floor, and Michael stumbled forward. It took a second for him to realize that he had total control of his body again.

  Immediately he whipped his head toward Maria. She was free, too, already holding on to Liz with both hands.

  And DuPris? Michael spotted him lying on the floor next to … Cameron. What? When did she—Didn’t matter. She was here, and somehow she’d managed to bring down DuPris.

  But not for long. DuPris was already struggling to his feet, his eyes locked on her.

  “Cameron, get over here?” Michael shouted. And then he felt his stomach clench into a ball. Her right leg was twisted at an impossible angle. It had to be broken.

  “Cover me!” Michael shouted. Without waiting for an answer, he hurled himself at Cameron. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them both across the floor. A bolt of sizzling green-purple lightning struck about a foot away from them.

  “I said, cover me!” he yelled.

  Max didn’t want to kill DuPris, but if it was DuPris or Michael—“Listen up, everyone!” he called. “DuPris is the bunny.”

  Instantly he felt a ball of power begin to form in the middle of the group. There wasn’t time to let it get too big. Michael and Cameron couldn’t wait for their backup. DuPris looked ready to hurl another lightning bolt. Max could see it forming.

  “Okay, now!” he shouted. The air crackled as they hurled the ball at DuPris’s head.

  DuPris spun toward it and raised the ring. The ball exploded in a harmless shower of sparks—and DuPris turned back to Michael and Cameron, the new bolt of lightning fully formed in his hand.

  “Michael, move!” Max shouted.

  Michael pulled Cameron over in another roll—and they hit the wall.

  DuPris drew back his arm.

  A wave of coldness washed over Max. There was no time for another attack. He wasn’t going to be able to save them.

  A blast shook the room, brilliant white light filling every corner, dazzling Max’s eyes. “Michael, are you guys all right?” he shouted. “Did you get hit?” He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision.

  Two beings came into view, moving slowly across the living room toward DuPris. They were tall and thin, their legs and arms extremely long.

  And their mouths … Max couldn’t stop staring at their mouths. They were gaping holes lined with pencil-thick tentacles, tentacles that continuously waved from side to side as if tasting the air.

  “The bounty hunters,” Maria breathed.

  Game over, DuPris, Max thought. And guess what? You lose! Because the bounty hunters—our saviors—are about to take you back home for judgment. And finally, thank God, we will be safe. DuPris glanced over his shoulder and smiled with relief. “It took you two long enough,” he complained. “I’ve been waiting for over fifty years.”

  10

  DuPris knows the bounty hunters. They’re not here to kill him. They’re here to help him. The realization was like a fist to Max’s kidneys. Another realization quickly followed—he was going to have to open the wormhole.

  But not now. It was too dangerous without the element of surprise on his side. Right now, DuPris was all caught up in reaming out the hunters, but any second he could turn his attention back to the group. They could hardly hold off DuPris while he used the ring. There was no way they’d be able to fight him and these vicious-looking bounty hunters.

  Max decided to use the momentary distraction of the hunters to reconnect the group.

  “Everybody grab hands … now,” Max ordered.

  The group quickly re-formed the circle—including Michael, who had Cameron cradled in his arms. She was connected now, too. An olive green aura had joined the colors wrapped around them.

  Max sent out an image—a stream of molecules rushing from the ranch house all the way back to the UFO museum.

  “Max, no!” Liz cried.

  But he didn’t have time to come up with something better. He’d have to do it on his own, too, without the consciousness. He’d need all their strength later … and it still might not be enough to survive opening the wormhole.

  He shoved the thought away. Right now, all you have to do is move some molecules, he told himself. Nothing you haven’t done before. Except this time he’d be trying to re-form himself. Michael wouldn’t be there to do it for him.

  Max focused on his body, on their body. He could feel all eight of their hearts beating. He visualized the museum, picking the exact spot he wanted them to go, then he gave their molecules a mighty shove, scattering them like pool balls after the break.

  He felt himself flying apart, his molecules mixing with the molecules of Liz, Michael, Alex, Isabel, Maria, Adam, and Cameron. No, more than that—mixing with the molecules that made up the world. Everything was molecules, and he was everything.

  His consciousness, his Maxness, felt as if it was disappearing. For a moment he fought it, resisting the pull toward oneness, then he abandoned himself to it, throwing himself into the void. So this is freedom was the last thought he was able to form.

  “That was so cool!” Maria cried.

  Max opened his eyes, feeling shaky with relief. He’d done it. He didn’t know how, but he’d done it. All eight of them were standing in the museum’s little coffee shop.

  Liz shook her head. “It should have been impossible. How could you have re-formed us when your own brain was in pieces?”

  “You even put my leg back the right way,” Cameron added. She kicked her leg out a few times. “No broken bone.”

  “And you managed to bring our clothes,” Michael said. “What a guy.”

  “I didn’t bring the Jeep, though,” Max answered. “I guess I’ll have to tell Dad that Isabel left the keys in it again and someone stole it.” He glanced over at his sister. She had her eyes lowered, and he could tell she hadn’t even heard what he’d said. She just needs a little decompression time, he thought.

  “I have a theory—well, not about the clothes part, but about the other part. Want to hear my theory?” Maria asked. She bounced back and forth on her toes, obviously enjoying an adrenaline high.

  Max smiled at her. “I would love to hear your theory.” In fact, there was nothing he’d like more. He wanted to stand here for a minute and hang with his friends like a normal person.

  “There are some massage therapists who believe memory is stored in the body, not just in the brain,” Maria explained. “Supposedly they can help people tap into a repressed memory just by touching them in the right place. Anyway, I think maybe our molecules remembered where they belonged.”

  “Either that or the molecule fairy put them back together for us,” Alex said.

  “Molecule fairy?” Adam repeated, a faint frown on his face.

  Max was struck by just how few days Adam had had in the real world. He had a lot of lost time to make up for. Max promised himself he’d help him do it.

  “Adam, there’s something you have to know about Alex,” Michael told him. “He’s a moron.”

  Everyone laughed except Isabel. “So what do we do now?” she asked, her voice harsh.

  Max rubbed the back of his neck. “The wormhole,” he answered. “I don’t think we have any choice.” He braced himself for another round of protests. They didn’t come. Probably because they’d all gotten a firsthand look at how phenomenally powerful DuPris was, how impossible it would be for them to come up with a plan to defeat him.

  “When?” Liz asked, wrapping her arms around her waist.

  “As soon as we can figure out a way to catch DuPris a little off guard,” Max answered. “Any ideas?�
��

  “We could all dress up like hookers,” Alex suggested, voice flat.

  “I think we should eat, get some rest, then meet up and start working on a plan,” Liz said.

  “We don’t have time for that,” Michael answered, his voice grim. “Look!”

  Max followed Michael’s gaze and saw a network of veins forming a few feet away. “DuPris followed us!” he cried.

  “Not just DuPris,” Michael shot back. And Max realized there were two other bodies beginning to form—the hunters.

  “How long will it take you to open the wormhole?” Alex demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Max admitted.

  “Go upstairs and start the process,” Liz ordered. “Ray’s bedroom is pretty much over the coffee shop. We’ll keep DuPris in here. You open the hole above him.”

  “How are you going—,” Max began to protest.

  “Let us worry about that!” Liz exclaimed. “Now go!”

  Max ran for the staircase. Liz checked on DuPris. His organs had formed, but he still had no eyes. “Michael, Isabel, Adam, make all of us look like DuPris!” she cried.

  “What good will that do?” Isabel yelled.

  “I don’t know. But we have to try something, and maybe we can confuse the hunters,” Liz explained in a rush. “They won’t attack us if they think there’s a possibility we’re DuPris.”

  Adam stepped up in front of her and put his hands on her face. She felt her flesh begin to shift, her bones softening and re-forming in a new configuration. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Michael working on Cameron. She glanced in the other direction. Isabel already had Alex and Maria looking exactly like DuPris.

  “Done,” Adam announced.

  “Do yourself. Hurry!” Liz urged. Flesh was covering DuPris’s body and the long, thin frames of the bounty hunters. But DuPris’s eye sockets were still empty, and the dozens of little bumps that were the bounty hunters’ eyes hadn’t formed yet.

  “Now what?” Isabel asked.

  “Now we try to buy Max some time,” Liz answered. She forced herself to stand right next to DuPris, and she was the first thing he looked at when his eyes formed.

  “I’m tired of games,” he told her. He reached for her throat.

  “Are you two lumps going to stand there while he attacks me?” she yelled at the bounty hunters, striving for DuPris’s arrogant tone. “Kill him!”

  The bounty hunters responded immediately, so fast on their long legs. One of them grabbed DuPris by the hair.

  “Touch me again and I’ll turn you into ash right now,” DuPris barked. The bounty hunter let go. DuPris pointed at Liz. “That one is an imposter. Destroy it!”

  “Both of them are impostors!” another voice that sounded like DuPris’s called from behind her. “Leave them and follow me!”

  The hunters hesitated, looking at each other. Then one moved up to DuPris and one moved up to Liz. It leaned close, closer.

  Hurry up, Max, she thought. She squeezed her eyes shut as the hunter began using its mouth tentacles to explore her face.

  Max felt the consciousness pulling the power out of him, stretching it out and up as they frantically tried to construct a tunnel between his world and theirs.

  He knew only part of the power for the wormhole had to come from him. The power of the consciousness would create one piece of the tunnel.

  But he was exhausted, and he wasn’t sure he had enough power in him to make this work. He tried not to resist as the consciousness yanked more power from him. He thought he could feel his body withering on the inside, as if blood and other vital fluids were somehow being taken out of him, too.

  You’re imagining it, he told himself. But he hadn’t imagined the dried-out spot on his neck. The process, whatever it was, obviously had an effect on his body

  There’s no other way to get DuPris back, he reminded himself, gritting his teeth as the power was drawn out of him even more rapidly.

  He heard a sucking sound, and for a second he thought he was actually hearing his power being siphoned from his body. Then he realized that it was the sound of the wormhole beginning to open.

  Max tried to swallow, but there was no saliva left in his mouth. His tongue felt like a hunk of sandpaper.

  There wasn’t much left in him, he realized. Not much power. Not much of anything.

  He just had to hope there was enough to finish opening the hole.

  Isabel shot a glance at the swirling spot in the ceiling almost directly over Liz’s and DuPris’s heads. It was as if the plaster in the spot had turned to thick pudding that was being stirred by an invisible spoon. It had to be the wormhole beginning to open. Anytime now, Max, she thought.

  She returned her gaze to Liz and the bounty hunter. It was using one of its tentacles to trace the inside of her ear. Even watching sent shivers of revulsion through Isabel.

  “I told you, I’m over here!” Isabel shouted. “Come on! We have work to do!”

  The hunters didn’t respond. They’d clearly decided to examine the first two DuPrises completely before they did anything else. Would Liz’s disguise fool them? Why hasn’t DuPris shifted shape again? She assumed, from the worn expression on his face, that he had exhausted too much of his power to shape-shift again. Or maybe DuPris knew there was something in Liz’s scent or shape that would give her away.

  Isabel hated just standing there watching. She wondered if she should slip away and go upstairs. Maybe Max needed help opening the wormhole.

  Or maybe the attempt had already drained him to the point of death.

  That settled it. She was going. She turned, then she heard a sound that turned her bones to ice—a wheezing, hiccuping, unnatural sound.

  Isabel spun back to face Liz and realized that the sound was coming from the bounty hunter in front of her friend. It’s … it’s laughing, she realized.

  “I told you it was the imposter,” DuPris snapped. “Now are you going to kill it, or do I have to do everything myself?”

  “Look!” Alex shouted—at least Isabel was pretty sure it was Alex. They all sounded exactly alike with the changes in their vocal cords. He pointed to the ceiling.

  Isabel tilted back her head. The swirling spot was almost transparent now.

  The bounty hunters made gibbering sounds of fear and darted to the far wall. Liz bolted over to Isabel’s side. DuPris stared up, motionless, transfixed. Then he began to back away, his eyes never leaving the ceiling. He knocked into Isabel, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  With a deep sucking sound, the spot in the ceiling opened completely. Isabel’s ears popped as the pressure in the room changed.

  “No! I’m not going back,” DuPris screamed from behind her. But he seemed unable to run.

  One of the little tables slid across the floor, metal legs squealing. It spun around under the hole, then flew straight up and disappeared. Liz grabbed Isabel by the wrist and pulled her down. “Lie flat on your stomach,” she cried. “It will be harder for it to suck you in.”

  “What about DuPris? We have to get him in there,” Isabel shouted. Another table was sucked up through the hole in the ceiling.

  Michael crawled over—at least Isabel thought it was Michael. “Connect with me,” he called, looping his arm across her and Liz. “Maybe we can use our power to push him through from here.”

  Isabel glanced over his shoulder, her oily DuPris hair whipping around her face. “DuPris is still just standing there. What is he doing?”

  DuPris gave a howl of anguish. “Help me!” he wailed. But he started sliding toward the spot below the hole, like some kind of barefoot water-skier.

  Isabel realized they weren’t going to have to do anything but watch. The force of the wormhole had him.

  “Help me!” DuPris cried. “Help me!” His arms pinwheeled as he struggled to fight the suction. “ I don’t want to go… . ”

  But it was too late. His feet were lifted off the ground as the suction of the hole pulled him up.

  The bounty
hunters let out shrill screams. They darted over and grabbed DuPris by the legs. DuPris shrieked as if his body were being ripped in two, but the hunters didn’t let go.

  An instant later all three of them disappeared into the wormhole.

  “We have to get out of here,” Michael cried. “Stay low.”

  Isabel struggled to turn around while keeping her body pressed fight against the floor, then she began to crawl, fighting against the pull of the hole. She felt one of her shoes fly off and tried not to think about her whole body flying after it. “

  This helps,” she heard Liz yell.

  She turned her head, her eyes stinging from all the dust and debris whizzing past her. Liz was using the metal stools lining the counter to pull herself along.

  Great idea. They were bolted to the floor. Isabel rolled over and grabbed the closest one. Pulling herself hand over hand, she made it to the end of the coffee shop. Then she pushed herself into a crouch and ran as fast as she could while keeping her body low.

  Liz and Michael were already halfway to the staircase. Isabel checked over her shoulder. Four DuPrises were right behind her. Good, no one got sucked!

  She raced over to the stairs and took them three at a time. She had to be sure Max was all right.

  “Everybody link up before we go in,” Michael ordered from in front of the bedroom door. “We might need each other to fight the pull of the hole, or …”

  He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. Isabel knew exactly what he was thinking—they might need the power of the connection to try to save Max’s life.

  She reached out and grabbed the two closest hands. The connection began to form immediately. But it felt different somehow. Almost tainted.

  We’re all totally freaked. Of course it infects the connection a little, she thought.

  She shook off the thought as Michael pushed open the bedroom door and led the way inside. Isabel felt tears begin to stream down her face the moment she saw her brother. He was almost unrecognizable. The skin of his face had hardened into deep furrows, and his body wasn’t much more than bones covered by dry, dry skin.