bottom of the mystery, but, in her present state, she was no good to anyone. When will Ijeel like myself again? she asked hopelessly. How long can constant terror last? Down at the foot of the amphitheater, the loquacious ranger wrapped up his lecture, glancing toward the setting sun and checking his wristwatch. 'It should be any time now, folks,' he announced, although predicting exactly the bats' big moment was something less than an exact science. 'Please remember, no flash photography.'An eager hush fell over the gathered tourists, quieting all but the most obstreperous youngsters. Danny Elfman's pounding Batman score echoed beneath the dimming desert sky as several dozen eyes turned toward die cavernous opening at the base of the cliff. 'Have you ever seen this before?' Liz asked Max, trying to enjoy the moment as best she could.
'Once,' he admitted, 'when we were just kids.' A gentler smile temporarily lightened his brooding demeanor. 'Isabel was terrified the bats would get caught in her hair.'Too bad Michael's missing this,' Maria sighed. 'Guys like bats and snakes and things, right?'Before either Max or Liz could respond to her query, a loud rustling sound came from the mouth of the cavern, like the fluttery susurrus of millions of shuffling papers. The audience held its breath en masse, leaning forward on their stone benches to get a better look, when suddenly a swirling cloud of black leathery wings burst from the cave, ascending toward the sky like, well, a bat out of hell. Wave after wave of hungry bats, several thousand at a time, poured out of the cavern, spiraling upward like some sort of vampiric tornado before dispersing into the night. Their high-pitched cries bounced off the rocky foundations of the outdoor theater, competing with the shrieks of excited spectators and the thunderous flapping of countless nocturnal predators. 'Holy Bat-Surplus!' Alex exclaimed, leaping to his feet while, beside him, Isabel scrunched down as far as she could, protectively placing her hands over her hair. 'This is just like Hitchcock's The Birds-but with fewer feathers!'Liz's own reaction caught them all by surprise. Even though she knew what to expect, having witnessed the twilight exodus numerous times as a child, the sudden roar of the bat explosion, the turbulent storm of furry black bodies blotting out the sky, overloaded her senses and sent her heart and soul winging back to the Crashdown and the day she was shot. Help me! she thought frantically, her hysterical screams lost in the tumult. Darkness, black as death, closed in on her. Pain flared below her ribs. Max! Where are you, Max? I'm dying! The blackness was still enveloping her as her friends took hold of her and hastily hustled her away from the bat show.
9.
A coyote howled mournfully in the night as Max and Michael crouched behind some outcropping rocks atop a ridge overlooking the hillside entrance to the gruesomely-named Slaughter Canyon Cave. They had arrived at the canyon well before midnight, so that they could take up a concealed position before either Morton or Lieutenant Ramirez showed up to conduct their mysterious business. Although the cave itself had closed at sunset, all-night camping was permitted on the. park's thirty-something miles of back-country trails, allowing the two teenagers to reach this location without having to sneak past any guards or barriers, like they often had to do on covert missions like this. So far, so good, Max thought.
He hated having to leave Liz's side again, especially after her total meltdown at the Bat Flight, but there was no way around it; he couldn't trust this job to anyone else, not even Michael. If anyone's going to uncover Mortons dirty dealings, it's going to be me, he vowed silently. I owe it to Liz-and myself.
Fortunately, Liz had calmed down some after they'd gotten her away from the burgeoning bats and crowds. In theory, she was resting now in a room at the Days Inn, where Maria, Alex, and Isabel could take care of her. It had torn his heart out to see Liz so scared and miserable, which only increased his resolve to take care of Joe Morton, one way or another. With luck, Liz would feel better, and more like her old self again, once she knew that the loathsome gunman could no longer threaten her.
A cold fury possessed him, spreading from his gut out to his fingertips, which tingled with pent-up psychic energy. He clenched his fist, feeling the red-hot power building within him, waiting to burst free. The alien energies at his command were fully capable of killing a man, Max knew, but was he? He tried to imagine what it would be like, setting Morton's heart on fire with the power of his mind, melting the man's rib cage until it resembled one of the shapeless calcite formations found in the caverns below. The image both horrified and intrigued him.
Could I actually kill Morton in cold blood? he asked himself, uncertain of the answer. A vivid mental picture, of Liz dying on the floor of the Crashdown, blood seeping from her wounded belly, her beautiful brown eyes dimming, sprang into his mind, as real as life. He had never felt so scared, so desperate. Maria screaming in the background. Michael trying to hold him back. Liz's smooth, soft skin growing cold and still… 'No, please, no! You can't die, Liz. You can't!'Max shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the awful memories from his thoughts. He shuddered, his body responding irrationally to events that had taken place nearly two years ago. The remote canyon, lit by a thin crescent moon, could not have been more different than the Crashdown with its kitschy decor, yet he suddenly felt as though part of him, the most important part, was still kneeling on the diner floor, next to Liz's bleeding body How could anyone do this to her, to Liz of all people? One very special person like Liz, so beautiful, so bright, and so caring, was worth more than a hundred worthless scumbags like Joe Morton. How dare he come so close to extinguishing Lizs life forever? Max's alien blood boiled in his veins and he knew that, at that moment at least, he was more than capable of obliterating Joe Morton for good.
'You okay, kemo sdbe?' Michael asked. Like his friend, the alien youth squatted in the dirt behind the craggy ridge, and had discarded his blond disguise in favor of his usual mop of messy brown hair. High-powered binoculars, purchased at one of the shops in Whites City, rested on his lap, next to a medium-size bottle of Tabasco sauce.
'I'm fine,' Max asserted. 'I just want to get this over with, and get back to Liz.' He peeked at the Indiglo display on his watch; it was already 11:35 p.m. 'Not much longer,' he promised Michael.
'So why do you think this place is called Slaughter Canyon anyway?' Michael asked casually. He took a sip of the bright red Tabasco sauce. 'Are we talking some sort of ghastly Indian massacre here or what?'I have no idea,' Max stated, grimacing slightly. His legs were growing numb from holding the same position, so he shifted his weight slightly. 'And I don't particularly care.' He glanced over at his friend to see how he was holding up.
What he saw sent a chill through his blood. 'Michael!' he whispered urgently. 'Don't move!' Max froze as well, taking care not to make any sudden movements. 'Whatever you do, don't move.'There in the moonlight, coiled in the shadow of a flowering cactus plant, its burnished copper scales glittering, a full-grown rattlesnake lifted its serpentine head, only inches away from Michael's ankle. Diamond-shaped markings along its coils advertised its deadly nature and species, while a forked tongue flicked between its predatory jaws.
At first, Michael looked mystified by Max's whispered warning. 'What?' he mouthed silently, taking pains to obey Max's instructions even though he didn't yet comprehend die why of them. Then the rattler shook its tail like a maraca, filling the still night air with a dry, staccato warning. Understanding-and fear-dawned in Michael's eyes. 'Oh crap,' he whispered.
Would rattlesnake venom affect Michael's alien biology? Max didn't want to find out. Holding his breath, he watched the snake with vigilant eyes, hoping that die poisonous reptile would slither away harmlessly. Just go about your business, snake, he pleaded silently, regretting that, unlike some movie aliens, talking to animals was not among his inhuman abilities. Don't mind us. We won't give you any trouble.
If the diamondback could read his mind, which was highly unlikely, then it definitely wasn't listening to him. The dry rattle increased in volume and tempo as the serpent appeared to grow more and more agitated by the hu-manoid intruders trespassing on its domain. The snake hissed again, more vehemently, and Max caught a glimpse of curved yellow fangs, dripping with venom. Its coils rustled atop the dirt and gravel, and the rattler's head reared up, poised to strike at Michael's ankle.
'No,' Max declared, unleashing the destructive energy he had been saving for Morton. His outstretched ringers glowed with an unearthly radiance and a bolt of incandescent heat and fury flashed between Max and the attacking serpent. The hiss of burning meat replaced the diamondback's own sibilant vocalizations, and the angry rattling ceased abruptly Startled by the strobelike flash, Michael yelped and scrambled away from the zapped rattler on his hands and knees, not looking back until he had put many yards between himself and his former location. 'Whew!' he exclaimed, forcefully expelling all the air from his lungs. His chest rose and fell irregularly as he looked back in surprise at what was left of the snake.
