Loose ends

19.

Max let the light from his hand dim as he followed Liz toward the door of Morton's messy motel room. They wouldn't need any artificial illumination once they were back outside; Max just hoped that Michael and Isabel were still keeping Morton and his scientific consultant occupied. Liz is right, he thought apprehensively. The sooner we itch this place, the better.

Liz was reaching for the doorknob when they suddenly heard footsteps and angry shouting right outside the door. Morton's gruff, raspy voice sent Max's heart racing. "Hurry up, will you?" the gunman bellowed impatiently as someone rattled the doorknob from the other side. Max and Liz looked at each other in alarm, frozen in place with nowhere to run. The teenage alien stared in confusion at the phone on the end table. Why didn't Michael and Isabel warn us Morton was coming back? Suddenly, he noticed that the phone cord was no longer attached to the back of the cheap plastic phone. "No!" he whispered out loud, realizing that Morton must have unplugged the phone before leaving the disorderly motel room. But why? "Oh, crap!" another voice exclaimed outside, with audible shock and dismay. "The door's unlocked."The science guy, Max guessed. Instinctively, he extinguished his silver glow, throwing the room into murky darkness.

"What!" Morton snarled. The door slammed open, almost hitting Liz, who had to jump backward to avoid being whacked by the swinging door. The intense New Mexican sunshine flooded the room, exposing Max and Liz to the two men who now crowded through the narrow doorway, blocking their escape route. The scientist barely preceded Morton, who shoved his learned accomplice out of the way in order to charge at Liz like a wild boar, his florid face a mask of malevolence. "What the hell is going on?" he shouted, spittle flying from his lips, then did a double take when he got a better look at Liz's face. "Wait a second," he muttered, confusion briefly supplanting rage upon his porcine features. "I know you." He grabbed onto Liz's arm and pulled her closer, struggling visibly to place where he'd seen her before. "Where…?"Max raised his hand, aiming his open palm at Morton's broad frame. A faint silver aura outlined his fingers as he summoned the concentration to blast Morton to kingdom come. At the last minute, though, he remembered the rattlesnake he had so thoroughly obliterated the night before, and Michael's disturbing warnings regarding Max's current lack of control-and the awful consequences of taking a human life. The rattlers smoking remains sprang from his memory, superimposed on Mortons repugnant face, and Max hesitated before unleashing his psychic energy.

He paused just long enough, in fact, for the overlooked lab worker to tackle Max from the side, knocking him to the floor amidst a clatter of upset beer cans and plastic Coke bottles. Max landed hard, the bone-jarring impact causing him to grunt out loud. He almost lost his grip on the attache case, but he held onto the handle with all his strength, unwilling to let go of the precious alien artifacts. The surprisingly aggressive techie kicked viciously at Max's head, and Max barely managed to roll out of the way in time to avoid the blow. Reaching out desperately from his position on the floor, he succeeded in catching hold of his attacker's sneakered foot with his right hand, forcing the techie to hop precariously on one leg while Max, still lying on his side, used his other arm to swing the briefcase like a club, smashing the case into his opponent's hip. Too bad the contents are so insubstantial, he thought; ironically, the amazingly lightweight nature of the alien technology undermined his use of the case as a weapon.

Nevertheless, the off-balance scientist tottered backward, leaving an empty sneaker in Max's grasp. The flailing teenager tossed the shoe aside and scrambled to his feet. Concentrated mental energy flowed into his fingertips, turning them into instruments of death. If I have to, Max realized, I'll gladly burn my handprint into Morton's heart to stop him from hurting Liz again. The techie, too, maybe.

"Not so fast, Bruce Lee," Morton snarled, before Max could put his lethal intentions into action. To his horror, he saw that Morton now had one arm around Liz's waist and the muzzle of a semi- automatic pistol pressed to her head. Her beautiful face was white as a cadavers, while pure, unadulterated fright filled her glistening brown eyes. "Stay right where I can see you, or your pretty little girlfriend is history."Max went still as a statue, his left hand poised at his side as though reaching for his gun. Morton nodded at the briefcase clutched in Max's other hand and barked at his hapless cohort. "Get the case!"The techie approached Max hesitantly, glowering at the paralyzed youth through die thick lenses of his wire glasses. "Don't give me any trouble, kid," he spat, although his threats were a lot less convincing than Morton's. "Just hand over the bag."Max hated to surrender such valuable links to his native world to the likes of Morton and his geeky accomplice, but he wasn't about to sacrifice Liz for pieces of a broken flying saucer, no matter what planet it came from. "Take it," he said coldly, his dark eyes fixed on Morton and his scared hostage. The lab guy snatched the briefcase from Max and scurried away. "Now let her go."The gunman ignored Max's urgent plea. He glared at his partner instead. "Make sure the merchandise is still inside," he ordered the scientist while keeping his gun pressed against Liz's temple.

The techie placed the case atop the closest bed and rapidly inspected its contents. "It's all here," he reported a moment later. He was sweating profusely and kept looking at the door, as though he ardently wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Good," Morton grunted. "Pack it up. We're getting out of here."But my equipment…," the distressed lab worker objected, locking the briefcase shut once more.

"Leave it!" Morton snapped. Still holding onto Liz, he backed toward the door. "Let's go!"Wait!" Max shouted, afraid to move an inch for fear of inciting Morton's eager trigger finger. "You don't need her! Take the briefcase, sure, but let her go!"Morton sneered cruelly. "Sorry, kid, she's coming with us." He waited until his nerdy partner had slipped out of the door behind him, carrying the crucial samples, then swung the muzzle of his handgun toward Max. "Tough luck."The gun fired, its jarring report almost deafening in the close quarters of the motel room. Acting on instinct, Max threw up his hands and a shimmering emerald force field instantly formed between Max and Morton, shielding him from the oncoming bullet, which ricocheted off the protective energy bubble, slamming into the ceiling instead. Pulverized plaster rained down on Max, only to slide harmlessly off the verdant force field.

"Wha-!" Morton's jaw dropped and his bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets. He fired again, this time out of panic, but the radiant green barrier once again shielded Max from the gunfire. Visibly freaked-out, his blubbery jowls quivering, the berserk felon turned his gun back on Liz, shouting hoarsely at Max as he dragged Liz out of the dingy motel room. "Keep away from me, you freak! Stay back!"Trembling with fear and frustration, Max ground his teeth behind the translucent green energy, which added a bizarre emerald tint to the awful sight of a terrified Liz being carried off by the gun-wielding killer. His alien powers had saved him from almost certain death, but what about Liz? Morton had her!