Part One: The Writing on the Wall
Max Evens sat in his Trig class, unable to hear a word the teacher was saying. He was only able to do one thing, stare. Stare at Liz. She pretended to ignore him. She pretended not to notice, but she did. Max knew she did. And that she hated it. That was good. She deserved to hate it. She deserved it, after what she did.
".....behind Max," the teacher said distantly. Max looked up and saw a girl he had never seen before walk down his row and sit in the desk behind him.
"Hi, I'm Helen," she said. "Who are you?" Max didn't say anything. Helen looked at him for a moment and then turned around to talk with the girl who was sitting behind her.
Tess, Isabel, Michael, And Max sat in their usual booth at the crashdown. They ate in silence, not saying a word, when Maria Deluca walked up to them. "You might want to see this," she said in a commanding tone. She wore a serious look on her face.
"What's wrong,," Isabel asked. Maria didn't say a word. She just walked. Michael got up and followed her, everyone talking his lead. Maria led them to the apartment above the Crashdown. She led them to Liz's room. Tess gasped upon entering.
Liz was standing in the middle of the room. Her normally made bed was undone, the sheets shredded. The feathers from her pillow littered the floor along with blue and black roses like Max had never seen before. Little aliens, like the one Isabel received for her birthday, dangled from her ceiling, etched held up by a string attached to the neck. On the wall words were written in red paint:
Roses from the arms of Death
Max took a deep breath. "The skins?" he questioned.
"The skins are gone, Max," Isabel snapped. "Besides, there are no pealing on the floor." Tess raised her eyebrows.
"How can you tell?" the other alien said. Isabel shot her a look, but Tess ignored it.
"I think it's the skins," Michael said. "It had to be them."
"However these people are," Liz, who hadn't moved since the came up, said suddenly, "they're not very smart."
"What do you mean?" Max asked.
"There are five aliens, not four."
Max counted the aliens dangling from the ceiling. Liz was right, there were five. And only four real aliens, Max, Michael, Isabel, and Tess. So why five? Was there an alien no one knew about? Or could whoever had do this the Liz's room believe that she was an alien too?
"We need to clean this place up," said Max. "If Liz's parents see, they'll get worried." Everyone nodded and the clean up began. After that Liz and Maria left, deciding that it was best for Liz not to sleep in her room that night.
"Do you think we're in danger now?" Isabel asked Max as they walked to the jeep.
"We're always in danger," he said. There was a pause in the conversation.
"Max," she said softly, "I'm scared." Max looked at Isabel. He was scred, too, but he wasn't about to admit that. Max put a hand on one of Isabel's shouklders.
"We're entering dangerous times," Max said, "but we're entering them together. As long as we stay together, we'll be alright."
"But what if we're not alright?"
"If we're not alrigth we're dead. And if we're dead then we won't have to worry about this anyway. Will we?"
Max woke up in the middle of the night. He thought he heard something. After a few soundless minuets, he went back to sleep.
"You look tired," Max's Mom said at breakfast. She felt his forehead. "Are you getting sick?"
"No, Mom," Max said, pushing her hand away. "I'm fine." Mrs. Evens gave Max a look. "Really I am."
"All right," Mrs.Evens said. "I was just concerned for my only son who never spends any time with his mother....."
"I spend time with you Mom," Max said.
"Really? So why did you leave during our family breakfast last Saturday?"
"Mom, I didn't.....," Max said. He sighed. "Why don't we have another breakfast on Saturday." Mrs.Evens smiled. "But this time, I'll cook." Max stood up from the table. "I need to get something up stairs."
Max though deeply as he walked up the stairs. The situation at Liz's still bother him, as it should, considering it was a threat to his life. Roses from the arms of death. The phrase sounded very poetic, and Max wonder if it could be from some sort of poem.
As Max walked across his room he noticed something on his bed. It was a note, he realized, a note that hadn't been in his room when he went from breakfast. He went to his bed, picked it up, and opened it. It said:
Fear of not falling asleep.
Fear of the past rising up.
Fear of the present taking flight.
Fear of the telephone that rings in the dead of night
BE aFraiD mAx
Max looked around his room. There's no one here, he thought. How could someone have given this to me if there's no one here? Max opened the door and closed it as he left, not even aware that, as if by some invisible force, the door opened again after he was gone.
Max walked into the kitchen. "Isabel," he said, motioning for her to come by him. She gracefully got up from the table and walked to him. "What is it?" she asked. Max showed her the note. "Oh my God," Isabel said. "Max what do we do? They know who we are."
"We don't do anything," Max said calmly. Isabel gave him an insane look. "We don't know who they are, Isabel. What can we do?"
"I don't," she said. "But we have to do something. We can't just sit here and do nothing Max!"
"I wish you were right."
"It's hot here. How can you stand it?" the new girl, Helen, asked Max. Max looked at her. She was a short girl with pale skin and short, brown hair. Her eye were crystal blue. She was waring a white t-shirt and a mini-skirt. Max thought that she looked kinda pretty, but he was also very suspiiou of her. Everything had started happening yeasterday, the day she had first appeared in Roswell.
"I grew up here," Max said to her. "The heat doesn't bother me." With that Max left Helen alone in the hall to look for Michael.
Max found Michael by Maria's locker. They were arguing, as ussual. "......I mean, todays our aniversery. You could have at least tried to remeber!"
"Maria could I talk to Michael for as second," Max interrupted.
"We're kind of busy here," Maria pointed out.
"It's importent."
"It can wait!"
Micheal, who had said nothing, walked away from Maria and towards Max. Maria started with her ussual thretsof 'I'll never speak to you agien' and 'Fine, Michael. It's over' but evenually stopped protesting. Either that or Max and Michael had walked so far away from her that they could no longer hear.
"What's going on," Michael said as soon as they had found an empty class room.
"We got another thret today," Max said, showing him the letter he had found in his room. "And I think I know who it's from."
"Who?" Michael asked.
"Helen."
to be continued................