We have to disguise ourselves and get outta Dodge, he thought. They hadn't fully discussed what had just happened, or its ramifications, but this had been far too close a call.
Michael was getting really tired of running from the government, from other aliens, from whoever happened to be hunting them or haunting them from week to week. More and more he wondered if his instincts and his past as Rath, leader of the Antarian military forces, might not be catching up with him. How much longer am I going to be able to hold back? When do all of us finally decide to fight back? While Kyle checked the engine and the rest of the van for any other damage, Liz was taking care of Maria, who sat, looking weathered, in the front passenger seat. Michael could tell that the taser had really knocked her for a loop, and he wondered if the setting might not have been higher than normal; it seemed to have done quite a number on Isabel as well, at least at the mall.
Walking the length of the van, Michael squatted near the bumper, beside Max. 'What do you want the plates to say, Maxwell?' he asked.
Max looked over at the church, then back again. 'Only seven letters. C-A-T-H-L- I-C. If they think we're good Christians, maybe they won't take any special notice of our van.' He thought for a moment, then added, 'And change the state to California. “
Michael smiled, then moved his hand over the formed metal of the rear plate. With a few small pops and pings, the lettering reshaped itself into the requested words. He also changed the registration tag's month and year, then stood and walked back around to the van's front to change the other plate.
On the way, he leaned through the passenger-side window. 'Hey,' he said simply to Maria. Liz gave her friend a water bottle, then exited through the van's other side and wandered away. The radio chattered in the background.
'Hi, Spaceboy,' Maria said, managing a weak smile.
'How are you feeling?' He reached forward and stroked her arm.
'Like hell. I keep shivering, but I'm not cold, and I've got this twitch in my eye, and I think that FBI zapgun gave me split ends.' She offered a wobbly smile, then tears welled up in her eyes. She leaned forward, and Michael enfolded her in his arms.
'It's okay,' he said softly, his hand stroking her neck and back. 'You'll feel better soon. And Isabel can fix your hair. Or I can if you really want, but that might be scarier than dealing with the split ends. “
Michael was gratified to hear Maria's light laughter, which was muffled by his shoulder. She didn't pull away, and moments later, he realized she was crying again. He held her tighter, willing her to feel his love and his resolve that everything really was going to be all right.
After a minute or so had passed, Maria let go and sat straighter in the seat. She wiped under her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffled a bit. 'I'm sorry. It must be the jolt of juice that made me so emotional. “
Michael restrained himself from saying what he thought: You're always emotional. Instead he just stroked her arm with his hand. When he sensed she was steady enough, he said, 'I need to go finish with the license plates. You gonna be okay? “
She nodded, and he moved to the front of the VW, where Isabel was finished with the dent repairs, and Kyle was fiddling with the bent windshield wipers.
As Michael crouched in front of the license plate, he said, 'Nice driving job, Valenti. “
Kyle looked down at him, a frustrated look on his face. 'Hey, if you think you could have done better… ' His face changed as Michael looked at him with sincerity. 'Oh. Thanks. “
Michael began reshaping the license letters. 'I couldn't have done better,' he said. 'At least not in this vehicle. Give me a bike and I could've escaped with a few less bruises and scrapes. But you got all of us out of the frying pan. “
He didn't look up, but he knew Kyle was probably gaping at him because of this uncharacteristic compliment. Michael knew he was generally the most contrary of the six of them. But sometimes it just seemed right to go against the grain and be a nice guy. Besides, Kyle had done a good job.
'Everybody, get over here!' It was Liz's voice, and she sounded alarmed.
Michael, Kyle, Isabel, and Max converged at the side of the van within seconds. Maria was leaning into the vehicle, her hand on the radio's volume knob. She was listening intently 'What is it?' Max asked.
'It's not good news,' Maria said gravely.
Rath donned the unconscious riot cop's uniform and all its accoutrements in a small office he'd found in a quiet corner of the warehouse. The uniform and body armor fit a little snugly, but a judicious application of his nearly depleted powers quickly fixed the problem.
Remember the cop's face, Rath thought before exiting the office and hiding his own features… as well as his decidedly uncoplike haircut… beneath the black riot helmet. Running through the warehouse to catch up to the other members of the SWAT team, he tried to hang on to a mental picture of the slumbering cop's face. Might need to copy that mug in a hurry if anybody decides to take a peek under this Darth Vader mask.
But Rath sincerely hoped his limited morphing abilities wouldn't be put to that sort of test. His shapeshifting talents had so far been limited to superficial surface characteristics, such as facial features, hair, and clothing. He was glad he'd been able to steal a disguise, because in his present condition he doubted he could muster enough energy to morph his body for very long.
Rath soon found himself standing in the weed-strewn parking lot that bounded one side of the abandoned warehouse building, in the midst of more than a dozen riot cops. Under the bright summer sun, he saw immediately that Lonnie and Ava were there as well, their arms handcuffed behind their backs. Low-flying helicopters maneuvered overhead, as though searching for something or someone, churning the air into a stiff wind. Every nerve ending in Rath's body screamed, Danger! He wanted to make a run for the girls, but restrained himself. He knew he hadn't had enough time yet to recover from the battle against the freaks, and the girls must have been similarly depleted to have been caught so fiat-footed. Rath knew that if their powers had been at their peak, Ava could probably have Jedi Knighted the cops into letting the three of them slip away unnoticed, just another trio of nameless, faceless rats bound for the sewers they called home.
Talk about wandering right into the freaking lion's den, Rath thought, his throat going dry.
Keeping himself motionless with an extreme effort of will, Rath watched as the cops hauled the girls, none too gently, toward an official transport vehicle that was idling a short distance away It looked like an armored Humvee, the type of ride that the Army might use in special operations. One of the helicopters, its body painted black, grew suddenly louder, attracting Raths attention. He watched as it touched down in the parking lot, just a few dozen yards from the Humvee.
It was only then that Rath noticed the men and women in olive-drab military uniforms, and the hard- looking, crew-cut men wearing tailored black suits. The Men in Black and Green Army Men quickly began running back and forth between the chopper and the armored vehicle. The eyes of the MiBs were hidden behind impenetrable shades, their ears connected to some vast, unseen communications network by slender white coils of wire.
This is definitely no ordinary cop-shop op, Rath thought, his pulse thundering so loudly in his ears that he thought the helicopter pilots must be able to hear it. Some of these guys could understudy for Tommy Lee Jones. He wondered if they used a talking pug as a hunting dog.
The reason for the presence of these army guys and MiBs was fairly clear: They must have caught a whiff of something alien here. But Rath had to wonder exactly which aliens they were tracking. It was possible that their entire purpose here was to track the alien-possessed derelicts who'd just tried to kill the Royal Three. After all, those freaks weren't very big on subtlety. The way they used ordnance and chewed up their
