I will be adding feedback as soon as possible. With the PC virus out there, I'm not even supposed to be online-this is up in two minutes, I have to run. Love you all, will be back to leave my thoughts to all of you!

ELEVEN

It was hard to sleep. Harder still, to lie in the dark and think thoughts. Made up scenarios involving quarantine, observation, everything about NTAC's dubious history he remembered. Shawn twitched under the light sheet, staring at the blackness and letting it wrap about him. If only one's mind could turn off for a moment. Like a lamp. He was so tired that every bit of him was one big ache, yet he couldn't close his eyes.

Uncle Tommy's house was silent. Not including the ticking of the wall clock and the constant settling of hardwood floors...maybe a siren, somewhere in the distance. It sounded lonely and strange. Shawn wondered if some one was lying just as he was, listening to the alarm. Wishing they weren't alone in the middle of the night.

This couch wasn't the best resting place. Shawn's feet hung over the edge unless he curled up, but his ribs were too sore for that. The injured foot was throbbing steadily, not enough to keep him awake.

One a.m. One twenty-

Tom's cell went off, cutting through Shawn's sleep numbed brain. He couldn't believe it was morning-rubbing palms into his eyes-no, the VCR showed two a.m.

Two? Thinking he might have imagined the noise, Shawn buried his face into a pillow. The cold material felt smooth and comforting against his cheek.

"Shawn!"

Uncle Tommy. The man was already dressed, tucking a shirt into black pants.

"Are you up?"

"What's going on?" the returnee's voice was rough with sleep

Baldwin brushed through, clattering things in the other room. Shawn heard a coffee tin slam onto the countertop.

"Get out of bed. Now!"

"Is something wrong?" The blankets refused to cooperate, twisting around one of the returnee's legs.

"Get changed."

Shawn slipped into his jeans and pulled a tee shirt over his shoulders, throwing the blankets onto Kyle's bed.X

Uncle Tommy was clutching a mug when the returnee limped into the overhead lit kitchen. "What is it?"

NTAC Agent Baldwin ran practiced eyes over his nephew's tall frame. The face, drawn and shadowed in the harsh light. "How's the foot?"

"Okay."

"Take a bottle of Tylenol from the bathroom cabinet. Throw it in the car. Grab a jacket and your shoes and come on."

"I'm not going anywhere." Shawn leaned against the table, only his eyes betraying his anxiety.

"I don't have time for this. It's my job. Now get your things or go as you are. I don't care!"

"Not until you tell me what this is about!"

Baldwin's hand clenched around the returnee's shoulder. "You'll have to trust me on this."

"That's not going to happen."

The words had barely left the returnee's mouth when Tom slammed him up against the stove. The agent wrapped his fist into the younger man's shirt, effectively controlling him. Ignoring the hurt shock in Shawn's expression.

"You'll be dead in the next twenty minutes."

"Dead-"

Tom didn't allow his nephew time to absorb this. "Unless you want to be really uncomfortable, grab those pain killers and come on." Starting for the door. "I've got a few things to get."

"What about food?" Shawn stared at him numbly, trying to process.

"We don't have time for the cooler." X

Two minutes later, Shawn was slipping on his seat belt. He had forgotten his jacket, but it wasn't that cold. The dampness actually felt good, seeping through the aches in his bruised skin.

Baldwin glanced over, tearing his gaze from the road. "If you're hungry, have a cereal bar from the glove compartment."

The returnee wasn't, but painkillers never set well on his empty stomach. Shawn chose a bar and carefully unpeeled it. "Mind telling me where we're headed?"

"No. Just where we were headed yesterday."

"Okay." The returnee chewed a mouthful. "Why now?"

"Because someone's going to try and kill you, Shawn."

Silence. "I don't-"

"Things are coming down around us. Two returnees died half an hour ago." Tom swung sharp left. "Judging from your coverage, I'm sure your turn was coming up. We already know someone's out to get you."

"Uncle-"

"The news covered stories on both people who were killed tonight. I'm afraid you're marked."

"Can NTAC-"

"You'll be safe there."

A picture of a young returnee flashed into Shawn's mind. He choked over a bite of food. "What about Maia?"

"Diana's getting her to safety. Faster than us. They're much closer."

"So, what, every 4400 is going to flock back to NTAC and-"

"Not many of the returnee's are nationally known. These people seem to be targeting the few who made headlines."

"Who-"

"I don't know. Yet." The agent frowned into the distance. "We could have waited for back up, but I think the longer we wait, the harder it's going to be to get you in."

Shawn sank back against the seat, glad for once that his uncle was involved with NTAC. Wordlessly finishing the breakfast that tasted wooden.

"What the-get down. Get down!"

Baldwin's hand shoved Shawn's head onto his knees. "Stay down."

His pulse racing in his chest, the returnee wrapped his arms about his legs and tried not to panic.

He could feel the car slowing down.

Flashes of light raked the interior, voices and sound carrying through the night. It sounded like dozens of conversations, the throbbing of machines and scent of diesel fuel seeping into the vents.

"They've got the whole road blocked!" Tom's yell of frustration was followed by a grunt. "This isn't going to work. We'll have to find another way. Hang on!"

The warning came too late, Shawn's head flying up to hit the dash. They must have left the road.

"I'm cutting through here."

Feeling like a rag doll, Shawn grabbed hold and watched the wild shapes of trees lumber past. The car rattled along, steadily gaining speed on the gradual downward slant. The descent into blackness.Handfuls of greenery slapped the windows, branches scraping along the sides. Headlights bounced off trunks and natural debris, startling a pair of raccoons.

"What are you doing?" The shout had built up inside, Shawn's vain attempt to stay calm dissolving. "Uncle Tommy-"

"There's too many of them back there." Braking a little. "Maybe we can outsmart them."

"Slow down!"

The wheels spun on loose dirt, and the woods opened abruptly. They were back on paved road.

"Oh-" Shawn regretted the pills and the cereal both.

"Listen. I'm having some problems over here-" Baldwin's mechanical voice, droning on and on, cell pressed to his ear. Asking about Agent Skouris.

The returnee cracked his window, allowing fresh air to wash around him. Tossing his hair. Two seventeen a.m.

Baldwin's ruse seemed to have worked. No one had followed-yet. Keeping a sharp look out behind them, Shawn clutched the seat back and watched the pale road unraveling in their wake. Moonlight glinted off the highway, turning it to muted silver. There were few houses, if any, about. An occasional car passed them heading in the opposite direction, but it was mostly woods and bits of weed spread land. Baldwin had turned off the lights.

"And I thought taking a round about way would avoid this."

Shawn gathered his thoughts with an effort. "What?"

"NTAC has a few guys coming out, but it's not like we're the only case. We're probably spread pretty thin tonight. I hope Diana makes it in okay."

"Maybe she waited for help."

"I wish I could believe that."

Shawn stared solemnly at his uncle's profile. "You think she's out here like us? In trouble?"

"Not like us. She would cut through town, it's shorter. Safety in numbers-it's a lot harder to pick out a 4400 when there's a hundred other vehicles on the same road."

"How close are we?" Keeping his tone light.

"I don't know, Shawn. I think we can make it in another fifteen minutes. Maybe Carter will have picked us up by then."

"He's an agent?"

"Ya."

"Do you have an extra gun?"

"That's completely against the rules."

"It's better than the alternative. I won't touch it unless you tell me."

Baldwin raked his nephew's face with hard eyes. "Okay. But only then."

"I promise." Shawn paused. "What's that?"

"Sounds like trouble."

Both men strained in the silence, trying to make out the faint thumping sounds.

Tom grabbed the wheel in disgust. "Something must have jammed up underneath. Let's hope it isn't serious."

As if in cue, the engine sputtered unevenly. Shawn leaned across to read the fuel gage. "It's empty."

"Well, that's not something we can fix." Baldwin swung the wheel, trying to use up the last bit of gasoline. He veered into the trees, coaxing another yard and then two more. "Come on!"

When Shawn opened his door, the damp air hit him full in the face. It seemed to chase away the dream like feeling that this couldn't possibly be happening.

"Check it out." Baldwin handed him a flashlight, scanning the empty road.

Wet earth and prickly plants scraped against his back, dew soaking the thin fabric of his shirt. Shawn pushed himself farther under the car, beaming his light around the undercarriage.

"Find anything?"

"Not yet."

"You're looking for a hole."

"I get it." Shawn shrunk away from a fuzzy cluster of three leafed plants. "Wait- I see it."

Tom's voice was muffled. "How bad?"

"A couple of things are pretty banged up, but there's a crack here about a half inch across. We hit something hard."

"Get out here."

Agents weren't programmed to be polite. Shawn slid into the open, wiping grease from his cheek. "What's next?"

"Carter won't be here for another five minutes. It's the best NTAC can do."

"Are we just going to sit here and wait?"

"We head into the trees." Baldwin's grip bit across the returnee's arm. Something glinted in the patches of moonlight, something black and deadly.

They made there way into the thicker cover of the forest. It wasn't very far. Standing in the center, Shawn could make out the end of the woods on either side. In here, foliage was less thick, the damp wind lessened.

"Get down." Baldwin motioned toward a tree. "Sit with your back against it. Don't close your eyes for a second."

The returnee heard the soft snick of the safety on the agent's gun. It was real, then. There were people out there trying to kill him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Not now." Tom's answer was terse.

Still, Shawn felt guilty. It was because of him that they were hiding in a patch of trees in the middle of nowhere. The returnee tucked his knees under his chin, easing the ache of the injured ankle. It was yet to become real. This whole experience had to be the result of a sleepless night and too many pain killers.