Chapter 25 – Recollection

The name hung over the table, like a dark cloud, causing varying feelings of discomfort in everybody. Finally, the sheriff broke the silence.

"Tess," he said, musingly. "I know that name. Is she a school friend of yours?"

"We don't know," said Kyle. "She's someone, but we're not sure who she is or how she fits in to everything."

"She's gone," said Max, suddenly. "And she took something very important to me."

When he finished speaking, Liz jumped up, her face white, and ran from the restaurant. Before the others could react, Max jumped from his seat and followed Liz out into the parking lot.

"Not that," said Maria. "Seems really familiar."

"Liz, Liz! Wait up!" Max called. He rushed out of the restaurant into the cool night air, and looked around until he found Liz crying against the side of Maria's car.

Max stopped beside her and reached out and tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder.

"What is it, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft. "What did I say that upset you so much?"

Liz turned to Max, and he found himself staring down into her dark brown eyes, mesmerized by the reflection of the flashing neon lights that were reflected in their inky depths. Max felt compelled to lean down and press his lips to hers. It felt so right, so natural to take her in his arms.

He bent his head down to hers and kissed her, gently at first, then with a growing passion. As they kissed, Max felt the world spin out of control, almost as if they were on a merry-go-round gone wild. Images began to slam into his mind, faster than he could process them. He heard Liz whimper, and still he kissed her, afraid to break the connection between them.

"Max, Liz, get out of the way!" a voice screamed. Max dragged his lips away from Liz and looked up in time to see the headlights of a truck bearing down on them. Max reacted quickly, and dragged Liz out of the way as the truck flew past them, catching the edge of the Jetta's bumper and ripping it from the car.

"Liz, oh my God, are you all right?" Maria cried, running over to her friend.

Liz groaned and pulled herself off the ground and looked around.

"Didn't he stop?" she asked, looking around dazedly for the truck.

"No, he didn't," said the Sheriff. "But I got a good description of the truck and part of the plate. I'm going to go call it in now. Did anybody see the driver?"

"It looked like a little boy," said Isabel. "An irritatingly familiar and eerie little boy, but that can't be right. I mean, why would little boy be driving a truck?"

"There was a boy in the CrashDown tonight too," said Alex. "Kind of weird looking, with dark hair." He looked around at everyone, a troubled expression on his face. He opened his mouth to say something else, then thought better of it. Isabelle looked at him questioningly, but he only shook his head.

"It's nothing," he said, softly.

"Are you sure?" She queried.

No, but until I have a better idea of what I'm talking about, I'm not going to say anything."

"Well, we're not going to solve anything standing around here," the Sheriff said. "Why doesn't everyone go home? Tomorrow, as they say, is another day, after all."

Maria looked ruefully at the remains of her bumper, lying on the ground in a crumpled heap.

"My mother is so going to kill me," she said.

"Maybe not," said Michael. He knelt down and passed his hand over the bumper and it straightened out. Without a word, Kyle reached down and fitted the bumper to the car and Max used his powers to adhere the two pieces together.

"I guess my mother isn't going to kill me," Maria said. "Or maybe she will," she added looking at her watch. "It is way late."

"Come on," said the Sheriff. "I'll take care of everything. Just follow me."

Liz climbed out onto her rooftop patio and stared up into the night sky. To say the night had been uneventful was something of an understatement. Thanks to Sheriff Valenti, she wasn't even grounded for being out so late. He had brought each one of them to their doors, and explained to the parents about the car accident, and how they had decided to wait as a group for help to arrive rather than leaving some of them alone to wait in the desert while the others went to get help. Kyle's father had been so convincing, all of the parents were commending themselves for raising such smart children.

Liz sighed, the soft sound carrying on the night air, and walked over to her chair. She sat down and opened the journal that Isabel had given back to her just before she went home. She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out the folded placemats that they had scribbled notes on at the Flying Pepperoni. She smoothed the creases out of them and laid them on her lap next to her journal.

"The answer is here," she said to the empty rooftop. "I just have to find it."

She thumbed through the pages of her journal, trying to make sense of everything she had written, but the more she read, the more confused she became. Giving up in exasperation, she allowed the journal to fall into her lap, and she gazed upward to the night sky. The stars danced before her eyes, and she stared, tracing the patterns of the various constellations.

Suddenly, the stars began to swirl violently, spinning faster and faster. Liz gripped the arms of her chair; afraid she was going to fly off into the whirling maelstrom. As quickly as it had begun, the spinning stopped. Liz loosened her grip on the arms of the chair. She climbed shakily to her feet, her breath coming in short gasps, and she made her way back into her bedroom.

Once inside, she held tightly to her bureau and stared at her face in the mirror, expecting to see some change. The face that stared back at her was pinched and white, with eyes that appeared too large, and filled with a great sadness.

Her gaze shifted to the familiar pictures that decorated the edges of her mirror. Alex and Maria smiled out at her from varying poses, and she smiled slightly as she remembered some of the occasions captured on film. She reached out and took down a picture, and admired the way she and her friends looked in their prom finery. She was unaware of the tears that coursed down her cheeks as she reached and touched Alex's face in the picture. Her gaze shifted to Tess, and she felt her heart harden and the rush of hate shooting through her body.

Memories flooded her brain, and the picture fell, unnoticed, from her grasp as she grabbed back on to the dresser to steady her both physically, as well as emotionally. She whirled around and ran to her desk and pulled open a drawer. It crashed to the floor, and she dropped to the ground and began to paw through the scattered pieces of miscellany until she found what she was looking for. She looked at the rectangular piece of cardboard she held in her hand. On one side was a picture of some saint and the phrase "Go With God." She stared at it for several minutes afraid to turn it over.

Finally, with trembling hands, she turned it over and found a small picture of Alex and underneath it the dates June 21, 1984 – April.

"No!" she shouted as the room began to spin wildly out of control. "No! I won't let it happen, it can't happen!"

Liz fought violently, trying to stop the feeling of vertigo that overtook her. She held on with a will she didn't know she possessed, but at last, she gave in and closed her eyes against the flashing lights.

Nicholas rolled over on his back, panting, staring up the sky, watching as the sun peeked over the horizon. He was losing his strength, and Liz was getting stronger and stronger. He almost lost his grasp on the time shift. If she had fought much longer, he wasn't sure he could hold out against her. Something needed to be done.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, and grimaced as he saw the strip of skin dangling from his arm. Ripping it away in disgust, he glared at the bedroom window of Liz Parker. He was going to kill her and cement this reality, or die trying.