CHAPTER 23
"Oops?" blurted Isabel. "That's all you can say, Oops?"
"This was not what I meant when I asked Michael to do something," Maria shot back. "Do you think he's the one doing it?"
"I don't know."
Maria turned her face up to the sky and shouted. "Michael! If this is your idea of helping, you are seriously warped! You can quit already!" Isabel remained staring into the distance. Maria peered in the same direction. "Is it stopping?" she asked hopefully.
Shaking her head, Isabel responded, "I don't think so."
"Of all the times for Michael to listen to me!" fumed Maria. "No, he has to wait until we're in the middle of his freaky little dream to do what I ask."
"If it is him, he might not even be aware of it," Isabel pointed out. "You can't really control what happens when you dream."
"Now's a great time to tell me that!" Maria looked once more into the distance. What had been flat desert and empty sky was no longer. Instead, a rapidly building breeze from out of nowhere tossed the desert floor nonchalantly into the sky. It slammed the sand violently down into a mountainous dune before picking it up and forcing it once more into the air. It was hard to tell through the blowing sand where the desert floor ended and the sky began. What was even worse, it was moving ominously in their direction.
"What do we do?" asked Maria. "It's one thing to be stuck inside Michael's brain, but it's another to be buried under a ton of sand." A horrible thought struck her. "You know how they say that if you die while you're dreaming, you die for real? Well, what if you die in someone else's dream?"
"I don't know. You've already been hurt in here once; we can't take the chance that something worse could happen." Isabel studied the oncoming wall of sand. "I'll have to try and pull us out of the dream," she decided.
Maria grabbed her arm. "You can't! You said it yourself, Michael will never let us dreamwalk him again. We can't leave until we find him."
"I don't think much of our chances of surviving that," said Isabel bluntly, gesturing toward the approaching sandstorm. "We don't have another choice."
"Sure we do. We have to. Can't you..." Maria's mind raced, trying to devise a solution. "Can't you manipulate the sand around us into some kind of shelter?"
"This is Michael's dream. I can't affect anything in it, remember? You're the one leaving the footprints."
"Yeah, well, about the only thing I can do is dig," said a very tense Maria. "And I don't think a little hole in the sand is going to protect us from an entire desert full!"
Isabel looked back towards the storm, which was moving inexorably closer to where the two girls stood. "We need to get out of here. Now," she responded brusquely.
Maria planted herself on the ground. Crossing her arms, she refused to budge. "I am not leaving."
Isabel looked at her and let out a hiss of frustration. "Fine. Then there's only one thing we can do. Run!"
They turned their backs to the oncoming wall of sand and took off. The high-pitched shriek of the wind behind them grew louder as they raced across the sand toward...more sand. There was no shelter in sight, nothing to protect them from the ever-approaching storm which loomed malevolently over them. Only more sand--albeit sand that just lay on the ground like it was supposed to--but sand nonetheless. There was nothing to help them.
That is, until Maria, a few steps in the lead despite her shorter legs, ran into something hard and invisible and fell backward into the sand with a grunt. Déja vu. Seeing her, Isabel pulled up short and managed to barely avoid a head-on collision of her own. "I think it's Michael's wall," she cried. "Come on!"
Reaching out, she pulled the smaller girl to her feet and tugged her around to the opposite side of the cylinder. They huddled together against the invisible barrier, watching as the onrush of sand split around it and rushed forward, leaving chaos in its wake. Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, Maria held on to the wall with all her might. The sound of the wind-tossed sand overwhelmed her, filling her ears with its vicious roar. And then, for a moment, she thought she heard a voice underneath the rushing volume of the wind. An oddly familiar voice, too muffled to understand.
With a last violent crescendo, the moving sand dune drowned out all other sound and thundered past. Even though they couldn't see it, Michael's cylindrical prison had protected then from the bulk of the windblown sand. Maria was left, coughing miserably, as the last few grains settled back down on the now quiescent desert floor. She turned to see a sand-coated Isabel. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I think so," Isabel grimaced. "I'm just...dirty." With a wave of her hand, she caused the sand sticking to her clothes, skin and hair to dissipate as if it were never there. Maria, covered with remnants of the desert floor, watched her intently and attempted to wipe off her face with an equally encrusted hand.
"I thought you couldn't do that kind of thing in here," she said, spitting out a mouthful of sand.
"I can't affect the dream. But I'm not really a part of the dream; I'm just observing it," explained Isabel. "I can affect myself." Reaching out her hand, she continued, "And I should be able to affect you." A small burst of energy and Maria was clean as well.
"Thanks," she said. She looked around at the now calm desert. "That was really...frightening."
"Uh-huh."
A wrinkle appeared between Maria's brows. "Did you...did you hear anything, Isabel?"
"Just the storm. It was really noisy. Why?"
"It's nothing, I guess. I just thought I heard something else."
"What?"
Maria stared down at her hands. "A voice."
"Whose voice? Michael's? It's his dream."
"It wasn't Michael, that much I do know. I don't know who...but it sounded familiar," she said thoughtfully.
"Max? Liz?"
Maria shook her head. "I don't know. I couldn't make out what it was saying. If I even did hear something...Maybe I imagined it."
Isabel studied her carefully. "Maybe." She looked at Maria, who was still frowning at her hands. "What?"
"I don't know. It just...it just really bothers me." She shook it off. "Never mind. It's not important, I guess."
Isabel gave her a shrug and a half smile. "We were lucky this time. We can't afford to take any more chances."
Maria turned to face her, a pleased expression on her face. "We don't have to. We found it, remember?" Gingerly rubbing her forehead, she tilted her head up and motioned with her chin at the space above them. "If I'm not mistaken, there should be a Czechoslovakian-made opening in the barrier, shouldn't there?"
"There should be." The two girls stood and looked for the opening. Although they couldn't see the structure in front of them, a squarish block of darkness was visible, as if hanging in midair. Crowding together in front of it, they peered in. It was very dim inside, too dark to make anything out.
"Michael?" called Maria. "It's me. Me and Isabel. We came to get you."
There was no answer, and no sign of movement inside. Isabel turned to the smaller girl and raised an inquiring eyebrow.
"He's got to be in there. I'm going in," Maria said.
Isabel grabbed her arm to halt her. "You can't. The last time you went into that room, you vanished in real life. Disappear again and Alex will think something's wrong--he'll pull us out of the dreamwalk."
"And Michael will never let us back in," finished Maria softly. She considered for a moment. "Well, what if I just stuck my head in far enough to see? You don't think it would disappear, do you?"
"Do you really want to risk it? I mean, Alex won't be too pleased if just your head disappears, either. Decapitation isn't really a good look for you."
Maria snickered. "You're right, I'm short enough already. But he's not answering, so I guess it's our best plan."
"Tell you what. I'll hold onto you. That way if you have any problems, I can pull you out," Isabel suggested.
Maria nodded. "It's a plan. Here goes." Placing one hand on the barrier, she held the other behind her. Isabel took it. Then, taking a deep breath, Maria leaned forward through the window. It was extremely dark inside, and she squinted to try and make out anything in the dimness.
"Do you see him?" she heard.
She called back, "No. Give me a second, why don't you?" Her eyes slowly began to adjust to the lack of light and she scanned the cylindrical room. It wasn't very big. Where could he have gone? "Michael?" she called again. "Why won't you answer me?"
A cracked voice responded, so low she could barely hear it. "Because you're not real."
"Michael!" she exclaimed. Pulling her hand out of Isabel's and ignoring the other girl's protest, she put both hands on the edge of the window and leaned further forward, looking down. He was there, huddled under the opening with his arms wrapped protectively around his knees and his head bowed. "Michael, I am so real. I'm here."
"You always say that, but you never are," he answered haltingly. "You keep coming back, but you're never here." He gave a wild laugh, which frightened her. "You can't fool me any more."
"What's going on?" Isabel called from outside. Maria motioned behind her for Isabel to hush.
"I'm not fooling you, I promise. I'm really here, and so is Isabel. We came to get you out."
Again he gave a bark of laughter, totally mirthless. "Nobody ever comes for me."
She could almost feel her heart splitting into pieces. "I came for you, Michael. I will always come for you."
His response was so low she could hardly hear as he repeated to himself, "Nobody ever comes for me." Maria looked down at him, her heart breaking. What had happened to him? He was fine when she'd last seen him, before she'd fallen asleep in his arms. And from what Isabel had said when she described the later events of that evening, he hadn't been any different when he and the other Michael rescued her from death in the round room. But now, he almost seemed...well, broken. As if something within him had snapped, leaving behind a living, breathing shell. She bit her lip. What should she do?
She was temporarily saved from having to make that decision by Isabel, who grabbed her by the back of the shirt and hauled her from the window. "What's going on?" the alien asked again. "Is he in there?"
"Yeah. Couldn't you hear him?"
"No, I couldn't hear anything, or see anything. Is he coming or what?"
Maria swallowed. "I'm not sure he can, not by himself. He...Isabel, there's something really wrong. He doesn't believe I'm really there, and he keeps saying I'm not real."
The taller girl whispered, "What?" in a panicked voice.
"Just hold on a minute. I'm going to try to reach him." Leaning back in through the window, Maria said softly, "Michael? I can prove I'm real, and that I'm here for you. Just reach up and take my hand."
His only movement was a small negative motion of his head. "Please, Michael," she begged. "Just take my hand."
"Leave me alone," he responded desperately. "Go away. You're not really here."
"Yes, I am," she said firmly. "And if you won't believe me, then I will climb in there and prove it to you."
She heard Isabel gasp outside. "You can't, Maria! The last time, you almost died."
"I know that," she hissed back. "Stop interrupting." She turned back to Michael. "I'll come in if you want me to, and I won't leave you. But it's not safe for me in there, Michael, and I can't survive for very long inside. Please, just take my hand first and let me prove I'm here. Please, Michael."
His hands clenched as he struggled inwardly, trying to believe her words. Looking up doubtfully, he seemed almost afraid to see her. "Come on, Michael. You can do this. I know you can," she coaxed, before adding with a tense smile, "Besides, if you don't I don't know what I'll do. Yes I do, I'll...I'll...well, I'll come in there and sing every pop tune I can think of. And the Bee Gees, Michael, I'll sing Bee Gees songs. And not one note of Metallica. So if you value your hearing, you'll get off your butt and take my hand already!"
He stared up at her, not reacting to her threat, until she began to cry silently, the tears welling up and spilling out of her eyes like so many raindrops in a parched desert. With an indrawn breath, he pushed himself to his knees.
"You never cry," he said doubtfully. "You're there and you say things and then you go away, over and over and over again. But you never cry."
"I told you, I'm real," she choked out. "Real girls cry when they're upset."
He cocked his head to one side, a first glint of hope appearing behind his dull eyes as he looked at her. Locking his gaze with hers, he slowly put up one hand, reaching for her with a terrible fear and hope and need and doubt. She reached out as well and wrapped both hands tightly around his. His fingers clutched convulsively on hers, and he didn't tear his eyes away from her.
"Told you I'm real," she said lightly, with a tremulous smile.
"You are," he responded. "I really think you are." He slowly got to his feet, not letting go of her hands, and stood diffidently before her.
"Are you all right. Michael?" she asked in some concern.
"Yeah, I think so. Now," he answered.
"You were acting a little weird, even for you, that's all. You scared me," she said.
"I think I was kind of going out of my mind," he said seriously, then gave her a halfhearted self-deprecating smirk and added, "Not like I was using it anyway."
"Hey!" she cried indignantly, rushing to defend him from himself; then she caught a real hint of life in his eyes and grinned. "Hey, what do you know? You're growing a sense of humor." Ignoring Isabel, who had begun to tug at her back, she went on, "I am really happy to see you again, Michael. I--" An extra firm tug caused her to stop, and she turned her head, calling over her shoulder, "Would you quit already? I'm trying to have a conversation here."
"I thought I heard someone else, but I figured I was imagining it too," Michael said. "Who--?"
"Isabel. How else could I have gotten in here, silly?" she teased.
A look of clarity grew on his face. "What are you doing back here, anyway? We got you out!"
"And now I'm back. Isabel and I came back for you, so hurry up and climb out of there, Spaceboy. Let's go home. Everyone's waiting for you--Max, Liz, Alex...hey, even you are waiting for you."
He abruptly pulled his hands away from hers and took a step backwards, running a hand nervously through his hair. "What?" she complained. When he didn't answer, she set her mouth firmly and said, "Look, I've had a very hard day. You know, the usual customers from hell at work, and then a battle practically to the death to get you to go to sleep, and then on top of everything, your little Tatooine dream world here almost smothered us! That's it. I came for you and I am not leaving without you. So you either get your butt out here, Michael Guerin, or I'm coming in there. Until you are back in Roswell, buddy, consider us joined at the hip." He blinked. "And not in a fun way, either!" she shouted.
"What, are you stupid?" he burst out. "You can't come back in here. You'll die!"
Ahhhh. This was the temperamental, totally emotion-filled alien that she loved. Yesssss. She cheered mentally. Not that she didn't love the other Michael, too, but she'd missed his passion and vehemence. Besides, she liked their little squabbles. What could she say--they challenged each other. She looked up at him defiantly. "Then you'd better come out, huh, Michael?"
He balled up his fists and began to retort, "I--"
"Oh, no. No excuses. Just make a choice, one way or the other. Which is it going to be, Michael, you out here or me in there?"
With a curse, Michael spun around, his back towards her and let out a stream of foul language that impressed her no end. She'd had no idea that his vocabulary was so...extensive. Good thing her mother wasn't there with a cake of her favorite soap, or Michael would be burping bubbles for a week. Maria stood and watched intently as his cursing petered out and his shoulders slumped forward resignedly. Then, turning around with his jaw set stubbornly, he moved toward the window and barked, "Shove over."
With a grin, she called back to Isabel, who up till then had been waiting impatiently behind her. "It's okay, he's coming out!" she cried jubilantly. There was no response from the taller girl, and Maria turned to find her looking up at the sky with a worried expression on her face. "What is it?" she asked. "Another sandstorm?"
Isabel shook her head. "I thought I heard something," she said slowly. "A voice."
Maria tensed. "Like the one I thought I heard before?"
Nodding, Isabel continued to search the sky. "I couldn't hear it well enough to be sure, though. It was...eerie."
With some urgency, Maria turned back to Michael, who had his hands on the invisible windowsill in preparation for climbing out. He too was very still, as if frozen in place. "Mich--"
"Shhhh," he commanded. He swept his eyes across the horizon, the rest of his body perfectly still.
With a frown, Maria concentrated on listening as hard as she could. She heard nothing other than the faint sounds of their breathing. Wait--was that something? A chill ran down her spine. As if from a great distance, a voice whispered, barely loud enough to hear. Somehow she knew it was saying terrible, horrible things, things that she wouldn't be able to bear, even if she were actually able to make out any of the words. With a feeling of impending peril closing in on her, she cried out, "We've got to get out of here! Climb out, Michael. Now!"
It took a moment for him to actually hear her, as if the almost inaudible voice were drowning out every other sound. When he finally did seem to hear her, though, he didn't move, as if planted to the floor inside the round room. Grabbing his hand, she shouted at Isabel. "Help him!" The other girl rushed to the opening and took Michael's right hand, and together they began to haul him out through the window. "Hurry!" Maria sobbed. His feet were just about to clear the barrier when a giant flash of light blotted out everything, and Maria felt herself falling...
TBC...