CHAPTER ONE

SARA:

I stepped out of the school into the bright sunlight, feeling it warm my face. There was a cool breeze, carrying the smell of fall, but it was still warm. I loved this time of year. Unfortunately, it only lasted for a few weeks. Then it would be gone and the air would turn bitter cold. The sun would go into hibernation for the winter months. I sighed, drinking in the perfect weather while it lasted.

I started across the parking lot, kicking leaves aside as groups of teenagers huddled around the cars. The busses had already left. I could've taken one, but I preferred to walk, even though it was over two miles. I crossed the parking lot and started down the long sidewalk that ran next to the football field. I knew the route well. From here, I would pass through a subdivision, walk down a main road, and enter my neighborhood, where all the houses looked the same and even the subtle excitement of the country had been overrun by civilization. It was times like these that I missed my old house, where there had always been something to do. Now I amused myself with books and Internet investigations, perusing through the public library with my best friend, Maygan, in search of the paranormal.

I chuckled at the thought. Paranormal. Sounded like something out of a sci-fi movie. But I wasn't interested in that. I wanted the real, not the fiction. And I found it, if I dug hard enough. I was actually a decent hacker. Maygan was really good. That was why we used the library instead of our home computers. We were harder to track this way.

Our most recent search had led to the discovery of an actual, government-appointed investigative team that had, in 1947, been established to research, prove, and dissect alien activity and technology. We had proof of its existence, not that we had any idea what we were going to do with that information. While I was more than fascinated by the prospect of aliens on Earth, and I did believe that there was such a thing, it was an interest I knew I would never be able to pursue beyond some computer hacking and debate discussions. People thought I was crazy, but that was okay. They could think whatever they wanted, I didn't care.

Reaching the end of the long sidewalk, I suddenly felt eyes on me. I glanced behind me, but saw nothing. No one was following me. But I knew someone was watching me. I could feel their eyes burn through me. Maybe it was the years of martial arts training that had developed my sixth sense. Danger? No, not really danger. Just… someone watching me. A chill ran down my spine and I glanced around again, suddenly paranoid. I cast my eyes to the ground as I walked a little faster.

AGENT J:

"This is stupid, K," I mumbled into my cell phone as she started down the street, picking up her pace as she stepped out onto the road. "She's just a kid."

"And what, precisely, are you?" he replied.

"I'm not 13!"

"No, but you were."

"I still say this is stupid," I answered.

"J, this girl hacked into our database last night. She didn't get far enough into it to realize exactly where she was or who she was dealing with, but the fact remains. She could write a detailed paper on the Majestic 12 and she would be on hundred percent accurate in everything she said. No speculation needed. That makes Delta nervous. And I can't say that I blame him."

"So why am I here?" I mumbled. "You guys can threaten a lot better than I can."

"We don't want to threaten her, J. We want to hire her."

"Which is why I think you're nuts. Besides, wasn't it her friend who actually got in?"

"Her friend's attitude toward it is different. She's curious, but she doesn't believe in what she's reading. And besides, I don't trust her."

"And what makes you trust this girl?"

"Gut feeling."

I started to follow after the girl, leaving the shelter of the trees. "Well, I trust your instincts, K. But I sure hope this girl is as trustworthy as you seem to think."

"Well, that's what you're there to find out."

"Hey, I've done what you told me to," I snapped, feeling anger brew deep inside of me. "I followed her around, talked to her teachers and her friends, staked out her house and lied to a lot of people in the process. But I do not like this girl and I'm not going to pretend that I do."

"Why don't you like her?" he questioned calmly.

"Because I know I'm gonna end up babysitting her, and the thought doesn't appeal to me."

He sighed. "Don't flatter yourself, J," he warned. "You're not even old enough to drink yet."

He hung up on me without saying good-bye and I flipped the phone closed. I wasn't offended at the insult. It was just the way he talked, the way he worked. I'd learned to live with it, and to understand when he was and wasn't mad. And I had only seen him get mad twice in the eleven years I'd known him.

Everybody always treated me like a child. K was usually the only exception. He understood me better than he let on. And I knew he stuck up for me when people talked behind my back. But to my face, he still had a tendency to forget that I wasn't as young as I looked. I looked about 15. In reality, I was almost 19. But then, I'd always looked young. I didn't eat much when I was growing up, and I knew that had a lot to do with it.

The girl glanced over her shoulder and saw me. She kept walking, slowing a little. I replaced the phone in the inside pocket of my jacket and walked after her. She had long blonde hair, all the way down her back. And she was almost as tall as I was at six foot one. If I didn't know from her birth certificate that she was only thirteen, I wouldn't think it. She was fully developed, and from what her teachers had said about her, she didn't act 13 either. I'd read some of her work. She could write like a college professor if she really tried. Good vocabulary, excellent imagination, and a seriousness about her.

She wasn't social. Most people didn't know what to think of her. She hung out with the outcasts in the rare times that she wasn't alone. She preferred to be alone. Left to herself and to her writing, her imagination ran wild. I'd read her work. Her books, her diaries. She was down to earth. No crushes to speak of or gossip to talk about. She used her writing to escape, I could tell, from the pressures at home.

She had two parents, but they both worked. She watched her four younger brothers and one sister a lot. She never went out, except occasionally with Maygan to the movies. But other than that, she kept completely to herself. Maybe that's what K liked about her. She was just like him.

I followed at a distance as she walked out onto the main road. I knew her path. This wasn't the first time I'd followed her. And I didn't intend to talk to her yet. Her parents weren't home, and she'd go to an empty house. There, I would talk to her. Not out on the street. But I was going to follow her, closely enough to give her the wrong impression, make her nervous. It would be easier to talk to her that way.

She turned into her subdivision and I followed. I had lost sight of her, but I knew where she was. She only walked in this direction a few steps, then turned onto another road. I followed blindly, considering what I was going to say. Then, all of a sudden, she was standing in front of me, out of nowhere. I jumped back, startled.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded.

It took me a minute to figure out where she'd come from. She'd been behind a tree, about a foot away from the sidewalk. "I..." I stammered, stunned by the unexpected confrontation.

"Who are you?" she continued. "And what do you want?"

I could lie to her, but that wouldn't get me anywhere. I was trailing her, and she knew it. But I decided not to answer the first of her two questions. Not yet, anyway. "I wanted to talk to you," I told her. "But not in public."

"Stalking is against the law," she informed me.

"So is hacking," I shot back.

She stared at me, with ice cold blue-green eyes. No shock, just a defiant glare. "Why would you say something like that?"

"Ever hear of Majestic 12?"

She froze, a look of fear flooding her eyes. I smiled inwardly. Good. I had her right where I wanted her. Interest peaked, plenty shocked. She was the perfect target. "I've been following you for quite a while," I shot at her. "And not because I have some passionate romantic interest in you because frankly, I could care less what you do or where you live. But my boss wants to talk to you. And I'm supposed to let you know that. You can do with it what you will."

The fear turned to a look of confusion, but she said nothing. I reached into my pocket and pulled out an index card. "Here," I mumbled, handing it to her. "Call this number if you're interested."

And with that, I turned and walked away, leaving her stunned. I hoped that would be the last I saw of her, but I somehow doubted it would be. "Oh, yeah," I remembered, turning around and walking backwards, away from her. "Don't say anything to anyone about this," I called to her. "Especially Maygan."

SARA:

I lay on my bed, staring at the card in front of me. A scribbled, seven-digit number was written on it. Nothing else. I wasn't sure what to do with it. But I knew I couldn't just throw it away without finding out what was going on here. My damned curiosity wouldn't let me. I stared at the cordless phone on the bed, then back at the card. What if I didn't call? Would he still follow me? What did they want? Moreover, who were "they"? He'd mentioned Majestic 12, the government organization set up to investigate the paranormal. The Men In Black, as it were.

I picked up the phone, my fingers pressing each number slowly and carefully. What would I say? I got to the seventh number, but I didn't press it. Instead, I hung up. I didn't know who I was calling. He hadn't even given me a name. How was I going to explain? It might just be a prank, and probably was. I'd seen the boy around, but I'd never talked to him. I was pretty sure he went to my school. He was probably just trying to scare me and make a joke out of it. But then, I could be wrong. This could be for real. And I could get myself into even more trouble if I didn't find out what was going on.

I took a deep breath and punched the numbers into the phone quickly, then raised it to my ear. My heart beat in my chest as it rang and rang. My breathing came in shallow, nervous spurts. I lost count of how many times it rang, but I kept it to my ear for at least a full two minutes before hanging it up. In a way, I was relieved. It had to be a prank, and whoever I was calling wasn't home. I sat up, picking up the index card but leaving the phone on the bed. I walked over to the other side of the room I shared with my sister and dropped the card in the garbage.

Suddenly, the phone rang. I turned and stared at it, unsure if I wanted to answer it or not. My heart was suddenly beating a mile a minute again. I swallowed hard as it rang again. It was probably just my mom. Who else would it be? Why did I have this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach? I walked back over to the bed and sat down, staring at the phone like it was a poisonous snake I was reluctant to touch. It kept ringing. Finally, I picked it up.

"Hello?" I choked, not sure who I was hoping for it to be.

"Is this Sara?" an unfamiliar, male voice asked.

"Yes," I choked.

"I want you to stand up and walk over to your window."

I brushed my hair out of my eyes as I stood up, my stomach twisting in knots. "What am I looking for?" I asked as I peeked through the blinds. But I knew as soon as I looked out. A black Cadillac sat parked in the driveway. A man in a black suit and dark glasses was leaning against the driver's side door, a cell phone in his hand. He was looking right at me.

"You wanna talk?" he mumbled. "Let's talk. Otherwise, I'll leave."

I backed away from the blinds, more than a little freaked out. I dropped the phone to my side and took a few breaths. Something in me screamed that I should call the cops. But at the same time, I knew I couldn't do that. I didn't know why, but there was something here that I couldn't betray. Just a gut instinct that this guy wasn't dangerous. I walked to the door, knowing I was crazy, and rested my hand on the gold knob. Then I turned and walked back to my room. I grabbed my micro-tape recorder off of the desk and shoved a tape in it. I hurried back to the living room and set it on the bookshelf, out of sight but facing the open room. Then, with that tiny bit of reassurance, I opened the door.

From this angle, I saw that the man wasn't alone. The boy I had talked to earlier was with him, also dressed in a black suit and sitting on the hood of the car. They both looked at me as I stood in the door. I took a deep breath, finding some hidden boldness. "What can I do for you gentlemen?" I asked.

The older man, he had to be in his late forties at least, pushed off of the car and took a step up the sidewalk to my porch. The younger slid off the hood of the car and followed. I tensed slightly as the man stepped up onto the porch. "Sara, right?" he smiled. He held out his hand and I shook it. "We have a job opportunity for you that we'd like to talk to you about if we could come in?"

"Tell me who you are first," I demanded.

He smiled. "Of course." He placed his hand on his chest. "I'm Agent K, and this," he gestured to the boy, "is Agent J."

"J" saluted loosely with two fingers to the side of his forehead. I stared at him. He was actually kind of cute when he wasn't talking. Being stalked was a major turn-off to me. Physically, though, he caught my attention. He had dark hair, kind of wavy but not curly. His skin was dark, too, like he was tanned. And his brown eyes were deep, almost sad. I could tell, even through the suit, that he was built, but not ridiculously so. I didn't like the bodybuilder/steroid look. He was clean-shaven, tall, and maybe a little older than I'd first thought. He looked about seventeen, up close.

The other man was at least 45. He, too, had dark, slightly graying hair, though not as dark as his partner's. He was also clean-shaven, about 5'10. His glasses covered his eyes. He reminded me of a lawyer, with the way he carried himself.

"Agent," I repeated his words. "You FBI or something?"

He laughed under his breath and raised his hand to pull the glasses off of his face. "No, Sara, we belong to an organization that you may recognize as the Majestic 12." I felt my stomach turn, half in fear, half in excitement. "Otherwise known as the Men In Black."

I laughed out loud. "You're kidding, right?" I chuckled.

The man shook his head. "No," he answered plainly. I looked to the boy. He shrugged, but said nothing. He wasn't smiling though.

I looked back at the man and the smile fell from my face as I studied his. "You're serious," I realized.

"May we come in?"