A/N: First of all I do not own the characters of Roswell, they were created by Jason Katims and his gang. Ohnoes! The Czechs + Liz have been nabbed!

"The bad men came, they took away…" The small child paused, staring up into the sudden rainfall that was coursing down from Maria's chin. He began to try and turn his head, to follow her gaze but she cupped a hand by the side of his face and pulled him tightly to her chest. Protecting him from what hung from the tree, from the sight that she couldn't protect Michael from.

Carved into the petrified bark of the redwood in front of Michael were the words: "'TAG YOU'RE IT, MICHAEL.'"

It was not just the words that conjured the emotional response but the details surrounding and dripping from them, blood ran in rivulets down the smooth bark of the tree and spattered Michael's face from above. There was blood everywhere and if he looked up…well, he wouldn't look up. None of the others were hanging in that tree and that was only a small consolation as far as he was concerned.

Frustration boiled inside of him, wondering who it could be. Had they not been careful enough? Had someone been tailing them all the time they had left from Roswell? A shape shifter? Or maybe it was someone else, someone closer…he whirled around, his back to the tree, an eyebrow twitching as the words disintegrated from the bark. What are you going to do about the bodies? The question swam up out of nowhere, registering as barely a ripple on the surface of all that was happening.

"Maria. Baby, we gotta go after them before the trail fades," He knew she could barely hear him where ever she was and the kid was caught in the same kind of world she was trapped in. A living, waking nightmare. He knelt down, wiping the blood from his face and attempting to keep the stoic expression from slipping off the side of his countenance.

Maria was rocking back and forth, blond hair swinging rhythmically and brushing the little boy's face. Her thoughts dwelling on the fate of Isabel, Liz, and Max and worrying about what would become of this boy…his family…had they been here with him? Did he have anyone else that could take him? How could they just leave him behind?

"Maria," Michael's voice adopted an increasing sense of urgency, hooking his pointer finger and thumb beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Michael…your face…" She reached out as if to touch him and suddenly drew back as if unsure that he was really himself.

"They might come back Maria; we really need to get out of here. I can carry him," He held out his arms but the boy shrank from him, hiding his face against the fabric clinging to her chest. An embittered growl of impatience slid from his lips before a stirring in the growth of ferns behind him had him whipping around, body spread to protect Maria from whatever blow might be coming.

A pale, bloody hand was groping wildly amongst the greenery and Michael realized with a start that it could be a survivor. Boots crunching the debris beneath him his right hand was thrust out in front of him, forcibly bending plants out of his way to find…

"Kyle!" His surprise must have struck some kind of chord in the semi-conscious human because he began to laugh uproariously, the harsh sound assaulting Maria's ears as she clambered to her feet, carrying the child with her as she ran clumsily to them both.

"Oh my god, Kyle! Kyle! Are you okay?" Her voice at once sounded almost too loud for the graveyard quality the ancient forest had taken, a decidedly different turn of events from what had happened moments before. It had all come so fast and so hard, a blitzkrieg in California and they never saw it coming.

Kyle had become a far cry from the nice-guy-next-door type since their collective exodus from Roswell, New Mexico. A goatee framed his mouth, something they had all teased him about in the beginning but under the circumstances it all seemed so trivial as Michael hauled him to his feet.

"Michael," Wheezing from the exertion Kyle staggered slightly, nearly toppling them both in the process, "Michael. They…they came so fast…killed everyone…but not them. They took them away, Max and Isabel and…"

The little boy had turned his head and was staring solemnly at the fellow survivor, blue eyes shining ever so slightly. He seemed to sense that it would be hard for this stranger to continue the horrific tale that had only taken moments to destroy all of their lives but seemed to take longer to tell…to muddle through the horrific details, to pinpoint where everything had gone wrong.

His voice was thin, but still he spoke, eyes never leaving the swaying man, "They were fast things," he whispered intently, "bad things. Not all of them were fast. Some had guns and big cars, there was yelling and screaming and daddy told me to hide…to not make a sound. He went away and then I heard him and then nothing…"

Kyle looked at the boy, pity hidden in the darkened corners of his eyes as he turned to Maria, "They didn't take Liz…I don't where she is but she wasn't here when it happened."

There was a sudden surge of electricity in the air just then and all their worlds turned to black. No time to cry out in warning, no time to run. All Michael would be able to recall from this event would be a sudden white-hot flash and a thud as he hit the ground, the tops of brown hiking boots level with his face before the darkness took him.

It might already be too late.