But he was exhausted, and he wasn't sure he had enough power in him to make this work. He tried not to resist as the consciousness yanked more power from him. He thought he could feel his body withering on the inside, as if blood and other vital fluids were somehow being taken out of him, too.
You're imagining it, he told himself. But he hadn't imagined the dried-out spot on his neck. The process, whatever it was, obviously had an effect on his body.
There's no other way to get DuPris back, he reminded himself, gritting his teeth as the power was drawn out of him even more rapidly.
He heard a sucking sound, and for a second he thought he was actually hearing his power being siphoned from his body. Then he realized that it was the sound of the wormhole beginning to open.
Max tried to swallow, but there was no saliva left in his mouth. His tongue felt like a hunk of sandpaper.
There wasn't much left in him, he realized. Not much power. Not much of anything.
He just had to hope there was enough to finish opening the hole.
Isabel shot a glance at the swirling spot in the ceiling almost directly over Liz's and DuPris's heads. It was as if the plaster in the spot had turned to thick pudding that was being stirred by an invisible spoon. It had to be the wormhole beginning to open. Any time now, Max, she thought.
She returned her gaze to Liz and the bounty hunter. It was using one of its tentacles to trace the inside of her ear. Even watching sent shivers of revulsion through Isabel.
'I told you, I'm over here!' Isabel shouted. 'Come on! We have work to do!'
The hunters didn't respond. They'd clearly decided to examine the first two DuPrises completely before they did anything else. Would Liz's disguise fool them? Why hasn't DuPris shifted shape again? She assumed, from the worn expression on his face, that he had exhausted too much of his power to shape-shift again. Or maybe DuPris knew there was something in Liz's scent or shape that would give her away.
Isabel hated just standing there watching. She wondered if she should slip away and go upstairs. Maybe Max needed help opening the wormhole.
Or maybe the attempt had already drained him to the point of death.
That settled it. She was going. She turned, then she heard a sound that turned her bones to ice-a wheezing, hiccuping, unnatural sound.
Isabel spun back to face Liz and realized that the sound was coming from the bounty hunter in front of her friend. It's… it's laughing, she realized.
'I told you it was the imposter,' DuPris snapped. 'Now are you going to kill it, or do I have to do everything myself?'
'Look!' Alex shouted-at least Isabel was pretty sure it was Alex. They all sounded exactly alike with the changes in their vocal cords. He pointed to the ceiling.
Isabel tilted back her head. The swirling spot was almost transparent now.
The bounty hunters made gibbering sounds of fear and darted to the far wall. Liz bolted over to Isabel's side. DuPris stared up, motionless, transfixed. Then he began to back away, his eyes never leaving the ceiling. He knocked into Isabel, but he didn't seem to notice.
With a deep sucking sound, the spot in the ceiling opened completely. Isabel's ears popped as the pressure in the room changed.
'No! I'm not going back,' DuPris screamed from behind her. But he seemed unable to run.
One of the little tables slid across the floor, metal legs squealing. It spun around under the hole, then flew straight up and disappeared. Liz grabbed Isabel by the wrist and pulled her down. 'Lie flat on your stomach,' she cried. 'It will be harder for it to suck you in.'
'What about DuPris? We have to get him in there,' Isabel shouted. Another table was sucked up through the hole in the ceiling.
Michael crawled over-at least Isabel thought it was Michael. 'Connect with me,' he called, looping his arm across her and Liz. 'Maybe we can use our power to push him through from here.'
Isabel glanced over his shoulder, her oily DuPris hair whipping around her face. 'DuPris is still just standing there. What is he doing?'
DuPris gave a howl of anguish. 'Help me!' he wailed. But he started sliding toward the spot below the hole, like some kind of barefoot water-skier.
Isabel realized they weren't going to have to do anything but watch. The force of the wormhole had him.
'Help me!' DuPris cried. 'Help me!' His arms pinwheeled as he struggled to fight the suction. 'I don't want to go.…'
But it was too late. His feet were lifted off the ground as the suction of the hole pulled him up.
The bounty hunters let out shrill screams. They darted over and grabbed DuPris by the legs. DuPris shrieked as if his body were being ripped in two, but the hunters didn't let go.
An instant later all three of them disappeared into the wormhole.
'We have to get out of here,' Michael cried. 'Stay low.'
Isabel struggled to turn around while keeping her body pressed tight against the floor, then she began to crawl, fighting against the pull of the hole. She felt one of her shoes fly off and tried not to think about her whole body flying after it.
'This helps,' she heard Liz yell.
She turned her head, her eyes stinging from all the dust and debris whizzing past her. Liz was using the metal stools lining the counter to pull herself along.
Great idea. They were bolted to the floor. Isabel rolled over and grabbed the closest one. Pulling herself hand over hand, she made it to the end of the coffee shop. Then she pushed herself into a crouch and ran as fast as she could while keeping her body low.
Liz and Michael were already halfway to the staircase. Isabel checked over her shoulder. Four DuPrises were right behind her. Good, no one got sucked!
She raced over to the stairs and took them three at a time. She had to be sure Max was all right.
'Everybody link up before we go in,' Michael ordered from in front of the bedroom door. 'We might need each other to fight the pull of the hole, or…'
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Isabel knew exactly what he was thinking-they might need the power of the connection to try to save Max's life.
She reached out and grabbed the two closest hands. The connection began to form immediately. But it felt different somehow. Almost tainted.
We're all totally freaked. Of course it infects the connection a little, she thought.
She shook off the thought as Michael pushed open the bedroom door and led the way inside. Isabel felt tears begin to stream down her face the moment she saw her brother. He was almost unrecognizable. The skin of his face had hardened into deep furrows, and his body wasn't much more than bones covered by dry, dry skin.
'You've got to help me close the hole,' he choked out.
She rushed over to him and pressed her hands against his neck. The others joined her, placing their hands on Max, too, centering their connection in his body.
'I think if we can break Max free of the consciousness, the hole will close,' Isabel shouted, her voice almost overpowered by the sucking of the wormhole.
She gathered up her energy and blasted out an image of Max teaching her how to ride a bike. You're Max, she thought. Max. My big brother. You're not some little insignificant piece of the consciousness.
She chose another memory-Max dressed up as a mad scientist for Halloween-and shot it out. You're Max, the science geek.
The others started showing Max images of himself, too. Images of Max the boyfriend. Max the best friend. Max the son. Max the mouse healer. Max the teacher of the toaster. Max the saint. Max the heart of their group.
The horrible sucking sound of the wormhole lessened. 'It's working,' Liz cried. 'Keep going.'
Liz was right. The patch of skin under Isabel's fingers was growing softer and fleshier, as if it was rehydrating. 'We need you more than the consciousness does, Max,' she yelled. That should get him. Mr. Responsibility.
