The Intruder Read online

  The images kept speeding by Michael. He’d never tried to pull a specific memory out of anyone’s head before, which was what Dr. Doyle wanted him to do. Michael concentrated all his attention on one of the images as it sped by and managed to freeze it.

  It was a car. A Plymouth Barracuda. As he studied it, some information came to him. He just knew that the car belonged to Bill’s grandmother. He called her Honey because she thought being called Grandma made her sound too old. Honey and Bill had made a trip to Vegas in the Barracuda when Bill was ten and a half. She snuck him into one of the casinos and he won five bucks on a nickel slot machine.

  Very nice. Touching. But Michael was supposed to find out what Bill’s mother looked like. He released his hold on the image of the car, and the images started streaking by him again. A cat with a torn ear. Sheriff Valenti. An airline flight attendant.

  Come on, Mom. Where are you? Michael thought. Then he felt his hand being pulled off Bill’s arm. The connection broke.

  “Were you able to get a picture of his mother?” Dr. Doyle asked.

  Michael shook his head. “I don’t control what I see,” he answered. He wouldn’t mind playing around with this on his own to figure out if there was a way to pull out specific information during a connection, but he wasn’t all that eager to give the Project Clean Slate guys any helpful hints about acquiring this technology. If he did, Big Brother wouldn’t be satisfied with just watching. Big Brother would start opening up people’s heads and poking around with a stick.

  Dr. Doyle made a note on his little pad. “Adam hasn’t been able to select the information he receives, either,” he said. “I’d like to try the same test again. Except this time I’d like you and Adam to link to each other and then link to Bill.”

  Adam shot Michael a questioning look. Michael nodded his permission. He didn’t want Adam to connect to him again, but he didn’t think there was a way around it. If he refused, Daddy Valenti could just strap him to a table and then have Adam connect.

  When Adam touched Michael’s wrist, the connection was instantaneous, effortless. As soon as the images from Adam started, Michael grabbed Bill’s arm, and the images from Bill replaced the ones from Adam.

  Okay, we’re looking for Bill’s mother here, Michael thought. The images from Bill sped by faster and faster until they were a blur of color. Michael couldn’t make out anything at all. Then – bam! – one image exploded in front of him, filling his entire field of vision. Hello, Mom.

  Information about her started pouring into him. Dr. Doyle broke the connection before he could absorb even a fraction of it.

  “She smelled like lemons,” Adam announced.

  Dr. Doyle shot a look at Bill. “Yeah. She liked this lemon shampoo,” Bill confirmed.

  Michael felt energized and alert. He had connected with Max and Isabel many times and even used his power at the same time they’d used theirs. But he’d never connected with one of them and then used their combined power. Who knew what they’d be able to do?

  “Let’s try it again. This time I want you to see if you can get the code to open the door to this lab. Of course, if you do, we’ll have to change it.” Dr. Doyle gave a little laugh.

  You should have your own HBO special, Michael thought. You’re a regular laugh riot.

  Just as Adam reached for his wrist, the lab door swung open. Sheriff Valenti entered, followed by the girl from the cell across from Michael’s. “This is Cameron Winger, the one I told you about,” Valenti informed the doctor. “I’m interested in how her parapsychological powers can be used in conjunction with their abilities.” He jerked his chin toward Michael and Adam. “I assume you’ve devised the appropriate tests.”

  Parapsychological powers. Was that like ESP or what? Michael thought.

  “Of course,” Doyle answered quickly. “Come over here and sit between Michael and Adam

  “What’s their deal?” she asked, glancing at them.

  “There’s no need for you to speak unless you’re asked a direct question,” Valenti answered.

  “Fine. I’ll just squeak once for yes and twice for no. How’s that?” Cameron sauntered over and slid into the chair next to Michael. She glanced over at him. “What was your name again? Mickey?”

  “Uh-huh. And you’re Minnie, right?” he asked.

  “No. The Brain. World domination meeting at midnight. My cell,” she whispered, leaning a little closer.

  He caught the scent of something familiar. What was it? He knew he’d smelled it before. The beach, he realized. She smells exactly like the beach. Michael had only been to the beach once in his life. The Evanses took him there on vacation once. The best week of his life. He pulled in a deep breath, trying not to be too obvious about it. Oh, yeah.

  “I need to ask you not to talk to each other,” Dr. Doyle told them, with an anxious look at Valenti. “I’m going to have you do some telepathy drills, and it will taint the results if you know anything about each other.”

  “I’ll expect a full report on my desk by the end of the day,” Valenti told the doctor. He turned and started toward the door.

  “Dad!” Adam called out to Valenti excitedly. “Michael and I made a link, then linked to Bill. It only took us two seconds to see his mother.”

  “That’s very good,” Valenti answered in his Mr. Rogers voice.

  “Yes, very good, Igor,” Michael mocked.

  “Watch yourself, Michael. We do have punishments for attitude problems, you know,” Valenti snapped back. He stared at Michael for a moment, then walked away, pulling the doctor with him.

  As he whispered orders to the doctor, Michael’s anger took hold of him. The “dad” stuff was just too much. Watching Adam’s boyish face as he looked admiringly at that evil man. Michael couldn’t deal with it anymore; Adam had to know the truth about Daddy Valenti. What if, he thought, Adam connected to … ah, yes.

  “Adam,” he said impishly. “Go play the game with Daddy Valenti. I know it’s not really for daddies, but I bet he’ll think it’s really cool.”

  A wide smile broke across Adam’s face. He leaped up and hurled himself at Valenti. Before Valenti could react, Adam grabbed his hand.

  Michael knew the second Adam made the connection. He let out a high, keening wail that Michael could feel in the center of his bones.

  “If Michael had told Valenti the truth about you and Isabel, neither of you would be sitting here right now,” Alex said. He glanced around the Evanses’ living room. Liz, Maria, Max, and Isabel all seemed to agree.

  His gaze lingered on Isabel. Why was she sitting in the armchair? The minute they’d walked in the room, she practically ran toward it. It’s not like he had to be within touching distance of her every moment of the day, though he wouldn’t complain. But she didn’t have to avoid him.

  Oh, man. What did I tell you about hanging out with Liz and Maria so much? he asked himself. You’re suffering from an attack of girl brain. Guys don’t analyze garbage like this. If you don’t watch yourself, you’re going to start actually wanting to see movies with Meg Ryan in them, and then –

  “I don’t know why we’re even talking about this,” Isabel said, pulling Alex out of his thoughts. “Michael would never give Valenti information about any of us.”

  “That’s a little, uh, naive, don’t you think?” Alex asked. “Valenti has ways of making people talk. I’m sure he could make me squeal like a pig and tell him everything he wanted to know.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not Michael, are you?” Isabel asked.

  Ooohhhh. That was harsh, even to a guy brain. Like Michael was just way more tough, or strong, or action-hero-like than Alex could ever dream of being.

  Which maybe was true. But Isabel was supposed to be his girlfriend. Wasn’t that supposed to mean that –

  “So when are we going in after Michael?” Maria asked. Alex forced his attention back to the conversation. “It’s been three days already.”

  “I don’t think three days is long enough,”
Liz said gently.

  “After the stone incident, they’re going to be well prepared for escape attempts,” Max added.

  “Yeah, I think it’s too soon,” Alex agreed.

  “You think,” Isabel said. “That’s all we’ve been hearing is what you think. What about what the rest of us think?”

  It’s temporary insanity, Alex told himself. Michael’s practically like her brother. Cut her some slack. “Max, Liz, and Maria just said what they thought,” Alex answered, trying to keep his tone neutral. “What about you? What do you think we should do?”

  Isabel hesitated. “I think we should wait,” she finally mumbled.

  Silence filled the room. Alex could hear the clock in the kitchen ticking.

  “So we’ll wait,” Max said at last. “We should all just be thinking of ways to get into the compound so that we’ll be ready when we can do it.”

  Maria stood up. “I’ve got to get home. Mom’s still in her postdivorce dating frenzy, and I want to make sure she doesn’t raid my closet again.”

  “You want to do the bio homework together?” Liz asked Max.

  “Sure,” he answered, and they headed off down the hall toward his room.

  Alex and Isabel were alone. Alex wished they’d all stayed in the living room awhile. Which was the opposite of the way he usually felt.

  Isabel didn’t make any move to come over to the couch or even look in his direction. She has to be terrified, Alex thought. Not just of what’s happening to Michael, but of what could happen to her.

  He stood up and walked over to her chair. He sat down on the arm. Isabel didn’t look at him. He reached out and smoothed a lock of hair off her forehead. “I know you’re scared –”

  Isabel jumped up, then spun around to face him. “You have no idea what I’m feeling,” she cried.

  “So tell me,” he answered. He could hear the anger creeping into his voice, and he tried to clamp it down.

  “Why should I?” she demanded. “Just because we’ve gone out a few times, that doesn’t mean you have the right to know my every thought!”

  “I don’t think we need to be hearing this,” Max said. He swung his bedroom door shut.

  “Yeah,” Liz agreed. Whatever was going on out there was between Alex and Isabel, and they definitely didn’t need an audience.

  She sat down on Max’s bed and pulled her bio book out of her backpack. “I haven’t read any of the chapter yet, have you?” she asked.

  “No. I keep –”

  “Thinking about Michael,” Liz finished his sentence. “How do you think he’s doing? I mean, what have you been feeling from him?”

  “Anger. A lot of anger and frustration. But no pain. And not as much fear. I think they must be treating him okay,” Max answered. “I can’t stop picturing him down there, though. It makes me nuts. If anyone should be down there, it should be me. I’m the one who needed the crystals.”

  “Michael and Isabel are going to need them, too,” Liz reminded him. “You just happened to go through your akino first.”

  “I know, I know. I keep telling myself that,” Max answered.

  “Well, start listening,” Liz answered. She rooted around in her backpack until she found a rubber band. She tossed it to Max. “You should try this.”

  Max stared at it. “I don’t get it.”

  “Put it around your wrist. Then every time you start thinking about how all this is your fault, you snap it, to sort of snap yourself out of it,” Liz explained. “That’s what my morn did when she wanted to stop smoking.”

  Max slid the rubber band over his wrist and then snapped the band. “That stings.”

  “It’s supposed to,” Liz said. “That’s the point. It’s supposed to jerk you out of your thought pattern or something. Although there is another method you could try.” She tried to sound all serious, but she could feel her lips curving into a smile. “It’s kind of experimental, though.”

  “It doesn’t involve anything like placenta, does it?” Max asked. “It seems like every new cure has something to do with placenta. Did you see in the news about using blood from the placenta as sort of a substitute for a bone marrow transplant?”

  “It has nothing to do with placenta,” Liz promised. “It has to do with kissing me. See, whenever you’re about to step on the plane for another one of your guilt trips, you kiss me instead.”

  “Well …” Max hesitated. “I guess I should keep an open mind about these new experimental treatments.” He slid one hand under her hair, skimming his fingers over the sensitive skin of her neck. “I’m actually starting to feel a little guilty right now.”

  “Oh, really?” Liz wrapped her arms around his waist. “Well, let’s see if the Ortecho method works.” She kissed him – a long, slow kiss that spread warmth through her entire body. It was so amazing to be able to kiss Max whenever she wanted to. That was one good thing that came out of him getring so sick. He finally realized what a waste it was for them to be just friends.

  Liz raised her head a fraction of an inch. “Did that help?” she asked, her lips still so close to Max’s that they brushed against his with every word.

  “Yeah. It did. A lot. But there’s something else I’m feeling guilty about,” Max answered. “I, um, um, I ate the last coconut cookie last night. And my dad loves coconut cookies. I just feel terrible about it,” he said in a rush.

  They kissed again. Liz’s laughter turned into a little gasp as Max leaned back on the bed, pulling her down on top of him. Her long hair tumbled down, forming a curtain around their faces.

  Liz felt like everyone in the entire world had vanished as Max began kissing her neck, flicking his tongue across the little hollow at the base of her throat. Every sense was filled with Max. Nothing else mattered.

  Then she heard the front door slam.

  Footsteps ran down the hall. And she thought she heard the sound of Isabel crying.

  “Should we go out there and talk to her?” Liz asked.

  “In a little while. She probably needs to be alone first.” Max slid his hands down to Liz’s waist. “Besides, I’m starting to feel sort of guilty again. It’s not really fair that Isabel is fighting with her guy while I have you in my bedroom.”

  “Yeah,” Liz breathed. “I’m feeling a little guilty about that, too.”

  6

  Cameron strolled through the doorway of Michael’s cell as if she couldn’t even see the two guards with machine guns flanking it. “I’m having sort of a Planet of the Apes moment here,” she said as they locked the door behind her. “You know that scene where they put the woman in the cage with Taylor the astronaut? Sort of as a present?”

  Planet of the Apes, Michael thought. He and Maria had watched that during one of their late night movie marathons a few weeks ago. Back when things were normal between them, before she told him she loved him. He couldn’t even think about that now. Not in here. It would make him stark-staring wacko.

  “Yeah, I know the part you mean,” Michael answered. He raised an eyebrow. “So am I supposed to unwrap you now?”

  She snorted. “I wouldn’t try it. Not unless you have a very high threshold of pain.” She sat down on Michael’s cot. “Where’s your weird little friend?”

  “Adam? The guards said they’d bring him over later. The doctor wanted to do a couple more tests on him,” Michael said.

  “What’s his story? Is he, you know, all there or what?” Cameron asked.

  Michael felt a surge of protectiveness. He’d only known Adam a couple of days, but already he felt like family The kid definitely needed someone to look after him, and since there wasn’t exactly a line of volunteers for the job, Michael had decided to step in.

  “Adam was born in this place,” Michael explained. “Everyone here treats him like he’s five years old, so that’s the only way he knows to act.”

  Michael noticed Cameron’s brown eyes widen a fraction. That got to her, he realized. She’s not quite as hard as she thinks she is.

&nb
sp; “And what about you, Mickey? What’s your deal?” she asked.

  “I just got here. The pictures the travel agent showed me made the accommodations look much more inviting,” he said.

  “It’s true. The hot tubs were supposed to be pink marble. I don’t know about yours, but mine is just white porcelain,” she shot back, doing a snobby rich girl impersonation. “Unacceptable.”

  She ran one of her fingers back and forth along the rip in the knee of her jeans. Michael noticed she had a tattoo – some funky little design – on the back of her hand. Usually Michael thought tattoos were trendy and chintzy. But on Cameron it worked.

  “No, really,” she said. “How did you end up in here?”

  Michael figured everyone in the compound knew he and Adam were aliens. But she obviously didn’t. Yeah, there were some yellow splotches of fear in her olive green aura. But nothing like what he’d expect to see if she knew the truth. That was a whole different kind of fear than the fear of being held prisoner. It was the fear of the unknown. Of the other. Of the monster.

  “You first,” Michael answered. He didn’t think it would be long before someone told Cameron the truth about him. But for now, for tonight, he didn’t want to deal with her pulling away from him.

  Cameron wrapped her arms around her knees and laced her long, graceful fingers together. “I ran away. Our friend the sheriff found me. He made this deal with my parents. If they’d allow me to live here and participate in some tests of my psychic abilities, he’d, I think the expression he used was, take me in hand. Meaning, make sure I studied enough to get good SAT scores. Make sure I didn’t run away again. Basically make sure I was a good little girl.”

  “And they said yes?” Michael asked.

  The edges of Cameron’s aura darkened to an oily gray. “Oh, yeah. They said yes. I get the feeling he may have given them some cash to sweeten the deal.” She let out her breath in a long sigh. “But even if he hadn’t, they probably would have jumped on it. They aren’t too crazy about having a freak for a daughter.”