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    A New Beginning

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      his head, "but there was nothing there."

      Gomer took a breath and continued. "It was too dark to

      see, but there was noise. Dawn screamed. I tried to grab

      her, but something had her. ... The dark, there was some-

      thing wrong with it."

      Max could see that he was barely holding himself

      together. He looked like he was about to cry, and then

      something else crossed his face.

      In a huge heave, Gomer leaned over and threw up on

      the side of the street. Kyle took a position next to him to

      see if he was all right.

      "Max, I think we have to call the police," Liz said.

      "What do we tell them?" Michael jumped in. "That

      aliens kidnapped Dawn and we should know because—"

      Max shushed him with a wave. Then he called for Kyle,

      who left Gomer leaning on the pickup several feet away

      * * *

      "We do have to report this," Max said, keeping his voice

      down. "A girl is . . .missing."

      "We can't talk to the police. God knows who is looking

      for us. There's probably alerts across the country for us,"

      Michael said.

      "And if we disappear right after another girl is kid-

      napped, every cop in this state will be after us—and they'll

      have a pretty good idea of where we are. I don't like it,

      either, but we don't have a choice. We'll have to take our

      chances. We tell the truth: We heard a crash and found

      Gomer in the car. Nothing about the ground shaking or

      the ship. Gomer is the only eyewitness to the ... abduc-

      tion. And he didn't see anything."

      Then a thought struck Max: Whoever was after them

      would be looking for six. "Michael, why don't you take the

      girls back to the room. Kyle and I will answer their ques-

      tions."

      The others nodded, and then Kyle said, "I'll get Gomer

      into the office and call Dan."

      Kyle grabbed Gomer by the shoulders and said, "Come

      on, let's get you some help."

      A little earlier, Kyle had been ready to take Gomer

      apart. Now he felt nothing but sympathy for the shaken

      figure in front of him.

      Gomer stood up and allowed himself to be led toward

      the garage. "Dawn . . . ," he muttered.

      "We'll call Dan and then the police," Kyle said.

      They reached the office door, and Kyle realized that he

      didn't have a key for that, so he had to prop Gomer against

      the door and run to open the shop area door. Once that

      * * *

      was done, he led Gomer inside and into the office from

      there.

      Instead of a couch, the office had a large bench seat

      from an old car. Kyle put Gomer down on that and

      reached for the phone and dialed.

      After a few rings, his boss picked up.

      "Yes," Dan's voice said.

      "Dan, it's Kyle. I'm in the office. There's been some

      trouble. Gomer and Dawn were in an accident."

      "Are they okay?" Dan asked, concern in his voice.

      "I've got Gomer here, but Dawn is ... missing," Kyle

      said.

      "Missing? She was in a wreck. She can't have gotten

      far," Dan said.

      "It's not that. We think, Gomer thinks, that someone

      took her," Kyle said.

      There was silence on the other end of the line, and then

      Dan asked, "Does Gomer need a doctor?"

      Kyle took a look at Gomer, He had a vacant look on his

      face and was shaking. "Yes," he said.

      "I'll call an ambulance and the state police. Stay there,"

      Dan said.

      Less than two minutes later, a disheveled Dan appeared

      in the office. He looked over Gomer, who was half out of it

      on the couch. "The ambulance will be here soon. The state

      police, too. What happened, Kyle?"

      "Dawn was working late. She came into the shop, and

      we talked for a minute. Then Gomer came to pick her up,

      and they left together. I was locking up when I saw the

      truck hit something in the road. Then its lights went out. I

      ran over."

      * * *

      "We heard the accident too," Max said.

      "We found Gomer but not Dawn. Gomer said someone

      took her," Kyle said.

      Dan was upset, but seemed satisfied with their story.

      And then a few minutes later the ambulance showed up.

      Two state police officers arrived just as Gomer was getting

      loaded into the back of the ambulance. Max and Kyle told

      the same story they had told Dan, and the state police offi-

      cers tried to question Gomer, whose muttered replies

      didn't make much sense.

      One of the two officers came back and took out a pad.

      "What are your names, boys?"

      That was it. Kyle knew if they gave their real names,

      they were dead—the FBI certainly had them on some sort

      of wanted list by now. If they gave fake names, their false

      identities would fall apart as soon as the police asked for

      identification.

      "Max," Max said. He hesitated only for a moment and

      said, "Max load."

      That was it. Max had thrown the dice. They had already

      told Dan their real first names. They couldn't tell the cops

      something different. Their last names, on the other hand ...

      "I'm Kyle Miller," Kyle said.

      The officer studied them with disinterest and turned to

      Dan. "Do you know these boys?" he asked.

      Dan said, "Yes. Kyle works for me, and they're staying

      in my studio out back."

      The cop didn't hesitate. He just closed his notebook

      and said, "Stick around. We'll question Gomer when he's

      feeling better. Then we may have some more questions for

      you boys."

      * * *

      Max and Kyle nodded.

      "Do you know the girl's folks?" the officer asked Dan,

      who nodded and gave them the address.

      "I should go with you," Dan said, his voice tight. "I

      know her father pretty well."

      The officer nodded, and they left together.

      Kyle tried not to show his relief. Less than three days

      into their great trip, it had almost ended with a simple, Let

      me see some identification, please.

      When they had first arrived in Stonewall, Kyle had

      looked down on it for being a hick town. The sticks. Well,

      apparently they did things a little differently in the sticks.

      And that difference had just saved their lives.

      * * *

      19

      "What now?" Maria asked when Max and Kyle got fin-

      ished talking.

      "We can't leave," Max said. "It would be too suspicious."

      "Well, it would look bad to the cops, but the cops are

      not the biggest problem in this town," Michael said.

      He was right, Liz knew. There were worse things than

      police here. Worse things even than the Special Unit.

      There were rooms that weren't rooms.

      And monsters.

      "But in a few days we will have to get out of town and

      put as much distance as we can between us and these

      aliens," Max said.

      "What about Jessica? Dawn? Who knows how many

      others?" Kyle said.

      "I don't think we can . . . ," Max said. He didn't allow

      himself to complete the thought o
    ut loud.

      Liz wanted to say that it wasn't true, that they could

      help. They could do something, find a way. But even as

      she thought it, she knew it wasn't true. Max and the others

      * * *

      would likely lose any battle they fought. She had seen it

      happen in her vision of the future, in her vision of a differ-

      ent battle.

      What chance did they have against a huge ship full of

      monsters?

      But if that were true, what hope did Jessica have? What

      hope did Jimmy have?

      As if he were reading her mind, Max said, "I'm sorry,

      but I don't think we can fix this."

      Liz caught Isabel's eyes and saw her own feelings mir-

      rored there. Liz had caught glimpses of Jessica's pain, but

      Isabel had visited the girl's dreams.

      No one spoke much for the rest of the night. They got

      ready for bed and took their places with minimum conversa-

      tion. They didn't sleep much either. Whenever Liz did close

      her eyes, she saw rooms that weren't rooms, and monsters.

      It was a long night, but it passed and Liz and Maria had to

      get ready for work.

      The others got ready as well. Without discussion, they

      headed together for the diner, where Bell was waiting for

      them with concern written on her face. "Are you kids all

      right? We heard about Dawn," she said when they

      entered.

      "We're fine," Liz said. She was surprised to see Sam

      peek out from the kitchen. He didn't say anything, but he

      looked concerned. Bell sat them down, and they told Bell

      and Sam the same story they had told Dan and the police.

      It was true, to an extent.

      "It's a shame. I hope they get the bastards before anyone

      else gets hurt," Sam said.

      * * *

      Liz realized that that was the longest sentence she had

      heard Sam speak since they'd arrived.

      The group ate quickly, and Kyle headed off to work

      while Max, Isabel, and Michael got ready to paint.

      "You don't have to do that today" Bell said.

      "We want to," Max said. Then, to keep her from

      protesting, he added, "It'll keep us busy." He didn't add

      that it would keep them near Liz and Maria.

      A few minutes later, Jimmy arrived, but he barely

      acknowledged them. He just took his place at the booth

      by the window and put his head down.

      The day at the diner moved slower than it ever had

      before. At first Liz thought it was because of how she was

      feeling. Then she realized that it was because there were

      fewer customers—and no women. It looked like people

      were not going out if they could avoid it. Things had got-

      ten bad in Stonewall. . . very bad, and desperate.

      Unfortunately, it looked like they weren't going to be

      getting better anytime soon.

      Kyle got to the garage early and decided to get right to

      work. If he finished early, he would be able to get even

      more time in on the van. And it seemed important to get

      the van running as fast as possible.

      He found that he didn't like the idea of running out on

      the town. People had helped them here. And now those

      people were scared and facing something they didn't

      understand.

      Better that they don't, he thought.

      If they knew what was really happening, they would be

      terrified and they would all run for their lives.

      * * *

      Like us.

      Max was right, though, he knew. What could they do

      against the force they had witnessed? Even Max's powers,

      incredible as they were, would be no more effective than

      Kyle's wrench against that technology.

      When he reached the garage, he was surprised to see

      the shop doors open already. Then something struck him

      about the shop doors—they were only partly open. In

      fact, they looked exactly as Kyle had left them the night

      before.

      Dan had said he would lock up, but clearly he hadn't.

      Kyle found his boss in the office, he head down on the

      desk. He was still wearing the same clothes from the night

      before.

      Hearing the door open, Dan woke up and raised

      his head. His eyes looked haunted, and he looked

      exhausted.

      He also looked like he had aged ten yeas

      "You okay, Dan?" Kyle asked.

      Dan shrugged. "I've known Dawn's father since I was a

      kid. He used to hang out with my brother. Last night I told

      him his daughter is gone."

      "I'm sorry, Dan. I'm sorry about Dawn and about your

      brother," Kyle said.

      His boss showed a tiny flash of surprise when Kyle

      mentioned his brother. "This place is named after him.

      Our father opened it the year he was born."

      It looked like Dan wanted to talk. Kyle was too sur-

      prised to move for a long moment. Then he sat down on

      the office couch. "Was the van out back his?" he asked

      slowly.

      * * *

      Dan nodded. "Yes, he and my dad rescued it from being

      junked somewhere. He did the paint job himself."

      "It looks like it was a hippie-mobile," Kyle said.

      Dan actually made a slight smile at that. "I guess he and

      his friends were hippies. They were also good kids. Ever

      heard of Woodstock?"

      "Well, yeah. My dad has the movie," Kyle joked. "Did

      you go?"

      Dan smiled and shook his head. "We tried. Made it as

      far as Indiana before the van broke down," he said.

      "1 know what that's like," Kyle said, smiling. "Too bad

      for you guys, though."

      Dan shook his head. "Not really. We camped out in the

      van for a week, me, my brother, and three of his friends.

      That was the best trip of my life. That summer . . ." He

      drifted off for a moment. "I was thirteen, hanging out with

      older kids. I had the time of my life. Tom, Dawn's father,

      was there."

      There was a long pause, then Dan added, "The next

      summer my brother was gone."

      Kyle didn't know what to say. Dan clearly wanted to

      talk—for the first time since Kyle had met him. But he

      didn't know if he should ask the obvious question. After

      more than a full minute of silence, Dan continued on

      his own.

      "Johnny and Tom went to Vietnam together. Tom

      wanted to go—he thought he was saving the world. My

      brother wasn't as sure, but he didn't want anyone going

      in his place. I mean, he thought we were on the right

      side of that mess, but he would have rather stayed

      home."

      * * *

      Dan took a deep breath, then spoke the next part

      quickly. "Johnny looked after Tom over there, and a lot of

      other guys as well. He was a hero. Problem was, his squad

      was caught in an ambush and there was no one to look

      after him."

      On the verge of tears, Dan held himself together—

      barely, Kyle thought. "Sometimes you lose someone

      and, well, things are never the same. You are never the

      same."

      Kyle nodded. He thought of his mother. He knew

      something about that. He thought about Dawn. He had

     
    liked her. They had shared a connection, a small one, but

      a real one just the same.

      And now he was running out on Stonewall. Running

      out on her.

      "Well, tonight I told my brother's best friend that he's

      lost his daughter. Actually, I told him she was missing, but

      we know what that means in this town. His wife was

      there, so he said things were going to be all right, but I

      don't think they will be. I don't think Tom will be all right

      either." Dan shook his head. "What kind of place is this?

      What kind of people would do this?"

      Kyle had an answer to that, but he didn't think it would

      help Dan to hear it. In fact, whatever his boss's suspicions

      were, Kyle knew Dan would be better off if he never found

      out what was really going on in his town.

      Getting up, Kyle said, "Come on, you need some sleep.

      I can handle the cars in the shop for today."

      Dan nodded and allowed Kyle to lead him up and out

      of the office. "Maybe just a little, then I'll head over to

      Tom's to wait with him. Not much else to do."

      * * *

      Kyle walked his boss around back and up to his house.

      At the door, Dan turned around and said, "Thanks, Kyle.

      Why don't you work on your van today? Take what you

      need from Johnny's van. Get yours running and get yourself

      and your friends out of Stonewall. Okay?" Dan's voice was

      stronger and clearer than it had been in the office. He clearly

      wanted Kyle to listen to him. "Okay?" he repeated.

      "Sure, thanks," Kyle said, and turned to head back to

      the garage.

      In the shop, there was only one car waiting. He

      checked Dawn's book and saw that four cars were due in

      this morning, but he wondered if they would show.

      As he worked, Kyle thought about another group of

      kids traveling in a van more than thirty years before. They

      had shared the trip of their lives, but one of them would

      be dead a year later, leaving a brother who looked like he'd

      never really recovered and a best friend who would lose

      his daughter.

      Tragedy. Loss. Were they waiting for Kyle and his

      friends at the end of this trip? Or would they not even wait

      for the end?

      Kyle knew he couldn't even begin to answer those

     


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