Part 4
"And then I ended up here. A year too late."
Michael had nearly exhausted what little energy he had left explaining the saga of his recent years to Jim. It started on June 21, 2002, Graduation Day. They had already agreed to leave immediately after the Graduation ceremony, and met in the desert where Isabel bid a tearful goodbye to her husband. They were just pulling out when Jim stopped them, also needing to fit in a goodbye to his son. Finally they were free, and Michael was just scanning the cramped quarters of the van, thinking that they definitely would have had room for one more when the explosion hit.
The front of the van burst into flames and Max quickly lost control, careening off the road into the nearest boulder. Michael remembered hitting his head on something, or someone, but remained conscious and was just beginning to pull his thoughts together when it happened. A blinding light filled the cavity of the van, sending them all reeling backwards in fear. Before they could even comprehend escaping their prison, they were no longer there, transported to an unknown location just as the gas tank caught fire and the van exploded once more.
He remembered watching the van burn on the highway from above, as if he were floating. The thought crossed his mind that he had died and this was an out of body experience when reality violently struck home and he opened his eyes to peer into nothingness; a black void that would become his home for the next indeterminable amount of time. They were kept separated, each in a small room chained or tied to a bed. They were drugged almost constantly, revived only to be tortured before the merciful release of a drug-induced slumber would claim their suffering bodies again.
He had no idea of how long this went on for, or even who his captors were, until the day arrived when they were transported back to Antar. There they found out that it was Kivar who had held them all along. He had been watching them closely during their time on Earth and had always been prepared to step in and remove them if they threatened his own safety. He wasn't concerned with their well-being, but he enjoyed the freedom of being able to travel to the planet whenever he wanted, taking back whatever or whomever he pleased, and he most definitely did not want the FBI cramping his plans.
He took them when it appeared inevitable that the FBI would capture them, and held them on Earth until it was safe to bring them back to Antar. The people there had never grown to accept him as their true leader and he had to make sure they wouldn't revolt and try to replace him with their real King, Max. An elaborate plan was put into place to make them look like traitors, making it seem like they had endangered the lives of every Antarian citizen by sharing secrets of their race with the humans, and when he finally brought the remaining members of the Royal Four back home, they were disgraced.
He kept them imprisoned, showing them off for the angry mob of citizens periodically so that their anger never completely faded. Tess was there too, riding high on the laurels of being the one member who had remained true to her birthright and returned home on her own accord. She was miserable living with Kivar, a man who truly had no love for anyone except himself, and his son, Max's son. Her only pleasure came from gloating over the misfortune of her former friends. They never saw the child but she assured them smugly that he was happy with his new father. Max nearly choked her with his bare hands when she said that, but her guards quickly subdued him and she walked away choking, angry red bruises on her neck. That gave them some satisfaction at least.
Their life of torture remained unchanged as time passed – unexpected attacks on them in the middle of the night by guards who were simply looking for a high, little or no food for days on end, cold nights on a hard floor in a tiny, crowded cell. Their powers were rendered useless the moment they were captured, a new skill that Kivar had developed. They lived, no… survived, in desperation for years, Michael guessed, time once again immeasurable by the absence of any regular event.
Finally, there was only him and Max left and Michael accepted that he was going to die in that cell. He began trying to remember things, fragments of thoughts that he had repressed long ago because the stark contrast between the relative beauty of his life on Earth, and the desolation he faced now, was too painful to think of. As he embraced his imminent death, he tried to recapture every memory that had ever brought him happiness. That's when he tapped into powerful resources he never knew he had. His search through the cobweb covered snapshots in his brain revealed memories of a life he had only previously dreamed of. Being on Antar had uncovered repressed experiences so rich in detail that sitting back to remember them was like watching a movie. All he had to do was press play and his former life was displayed before him.
That's when he learned about transplacement. It was easy really, you just had to concentrate and have a firm destination in mind, obviously something he had failed to conquer as of yet. He had also learned of mind control, dream walking, healing… every power the four of them had ever possessed combined, plus additional possibilities he had never even dreamed about. And he already had all of the skills, they were just a little rusty.
He stopped there, the end of his story still untold and looked up at Jim expectantly. "Enough?" he croaked, his voice cracking from overuse.
The older man sat across from him in the kitchen and stared thoughtfully at the aged face of a boy still 18 in his mind. Michael had said he had no idea of how long he had been gone, time had no meaning where he was and he could only estimate that it had been five years.
"I put you at 25."
They were the first words Jim had spoken since instructing Michael to start explaining and the sound of his voice was discomforting in the tense air.
"Maybe I am," Michael said shrugging. "I have no idea." He knew his tale was less than believable, especially to a man who had to hear the details of his own son's death, but it was all he had to offer, and it was the truth.
"Okay," Jim said, sighing as he stood up. "You said you were taken from the highway that night and kept on earth for some time?"
Michael nodded.
"And then, after 'some time' you were taken to Antar."
Michael nodded again.
"So, it's only been a year, right? You could still be here on earth somewhere?"
Michael hesitated, struggling to find the proper words to say to a man still grieving for the loss of his only son. "I don't…" He paused, chewing his lip silently. "Even if we were still here, I don't have any idea where. He used transplacement, it's instantaneous, and he could have taken us anywhere."
"But you can do it now, right? You can transmogrify yourself or whatever?"
"Transplace. But I don't know…"
"God damn it boy. Why not?" Jim shouted, turning to slam his hand down on the table between them.
The sheer violence in Jim's voice sent Michael reeling backwards and he stared at him for a long moment.
"It's been a long time since someone called me boy," Michael Guerin, the man, said slowly.
The two men stared at each other for a long moment before Jim cleared his throat and mumbled an apology.
Michael stood up, stretching his arms over his head tiredly. "Look," he said quietly. "I know you have questions, of course you do. And I'll answer them, but first you have to do something for me."
"What is it?"
Michael eyes glistened with wetness even as he thought about the possibilities of what Jim's explanation could be. He swallowed thickly before asking, "Tell me what happened to her."
"Sit down son," Valenti offered. "It's going to be a long night."