Loose ends

22.

The cave was dark and gloomy, the only light coming from a narrow entrance about twenty feet away. Liz squatted on the dank stone floor, her hands tied behind her back with duct tape, while Joe Morton checked to make sure the tape was secure. "Okay, that should hold you," he grunted, lurching to his feet behind her. He circled around so she could see the pistol tucked into his bulging waistband. "Don't try anything. I'm watching you."They must have hiked a couple miles into the hills, before stumbling onto this primitive hideaway. Must be one 0/ those unexplored caverns 1 read about in the guidebook, Liz guessed; it was even possible that they were back on the park grounds somewhere. Unfortunately, it didn't look like any tour guides would be coming along soon.

In search of better light, Morton trudged up to just within the cave's secluded entrance. Muttering irritably to himself, he dialed a number on the cell phone he had claimed from the glove compartment of the abandoned Chevy. "Damnit," he grumbled, lifting the phone to his ear. "He'd better be there!"Liz wondered whom he was calling, but not for long. "Ramirez!" the surly gunman barked into the phone. "This is Morton. What the hell were you thinking, sending those two air force clowns to surprise me?… Don't play dumb with me! They told me they worked with you, and they had the goods to prove it. Yeah, more leftovers from '47. Crazy stuff, too. An alien crash helmet and some kind of glow-in-the-dark antenna or something…What do you mean you've never heard of anything like that? I saw this merchandise with my own eyes!"Liz realized he was talking about Isabel and Michael, and the phony alien gizmos they had whipped up at the Days Inn. She looked over at the canvas backpack, currently resting against the notorious attache case on the floor of the cave, only a few feet away. She assumed the bogus artifacts were still in the pack. Why else would Morton have forced her to carry it all this way? Not that this was likely to do her much good; even if she managed to get her hands free, what could she do with a shower cap and a twisted wire hanger? It took several minutes, but Ramirez somehow managed to convince Morton that he'd had nothing to do with the uniformed strangers at the Denny's. "Okay, okay, maybe you're on the level," Morton admitted reluctantly. "Something fishy's going on, though, and I don't like it." He scratched his ill-shaven jowls as he tried to figure out his next move. "Okay," he said finally, spitting a mouthful of tobacco juice onto the floor of the cavern. "Here's what we're going to do: You're going to meet me here, and I'll give you the rest of your cash in exchange for a ride to the Mexican border. Listen up "He gave the lieutenant detailed directions on how to find the cave, along with the number of his cell phone, just in case Ramirez got lost. He did not mention anything about transporting a teenage girl as well, which made Liz feel scarily expendable. I have to give him a reason to keep me alive, she realized, even as Morton wrapped up his call. "Make it fast," he warned Ramirez. "No one's going to find me here, but the sooner 1 get the merchandise out of the country, the better it will be-for you and me both."He hung up on Ramirez and stuck the phone in his back pocket. "Okay, Red," he announced, leering at Liz from the top of the caverns sloping floor. "Now it's your turn." He marched toward her, rubbing his meaty palms together in anticipation, until he was right in front of her, looking down at his hostage with cruel, bestial eyes. "We've got a couple of hours to kill, and I've got plenty of questions that need answers. Sounds doable to me, as long as you cooperate. Otherwise, things could get kind of ugly."Yeah, right, Liz thought skeptically. like you're really going to let me live if I tell you everything I know. She knew that her only chance was to make like Scheherazade and give Morton just enough info to keep him good and anxious to hear more. Think of it as a challenge, she thought, something to keep my brain too busy to freak out.

The fear-the blind, unreasoning panic-was still there, ready to reduce her to a trembling wreck once more, but Liz fought against the creeping terror, and was surprised to find herself coping. Maybe it's because, she speculated, the only thing that can drown out those awful memories from my fast is facing the very same threat in the present] It was almost funny, in a blackly comic way. Alex said I needed to confront my fears, but I don't think he meant quite this literally! "W-what do you want to know?" she asked, her voice quavering a little. Even if she hadn't been squatting on the floor, Morton would have been much taller than she; as is, he towered over her like a fairy-tale ogre or giant.

"First off, who are you?" Morton scrutinized her face, rubbing his chin. "The hair is different, but I've seen you before." He bent over to brush some newly- red tresses away from her face. Liz shuddered as his callused knuckles momentarily brushed her cheek. "Yeah, I got it now. You're the girl from the gift shop yesterday, the one I shot at Roswell a couple years back! At that dopey sci-fi diner."Liz decided to play dumb, if only to buy time. "Diner? Roswell? I don't know what you're talking about." Isabel would know how to wrap this guy around her little finger, she thought mournfully, but all Liz could think to do was fake a vacant expression. "Trust me, I've never been shot!"No," Morton said, shaking his head. His rancid breath made her stomach turn. "I remember you now. I shot you by accident, while I was wrestling with that butt- headed idiot. The papers said you hadn't been hit, but I know I shot you."Without warning, he knelt down and tore open Liz's blouse, looking for the bullet wound. Instead his eyes widened in astonishment as he discovered the silver handprint, still shining brightly upon her belly. In the murky gloom of the cave, the marks eerie glow was even more apparent. "What in the world-?"The luminous handprint, on top of everything else he'd witnessed today, actually seemed to frighten the brutal gunman. He sprang to his feet, jumping back from the glowing sigil as though it might be dangerously radioactive. "What the hell is that?" he hollered at Liz, pulling out his pistol and waving it wildly. "What does it mean?"Her eyes nervously tracking every swoop of the lethal handgun, Liz tried to calm Morton. "It's just a tattoo!" she insisted lamely, wiggling her torso so that her sundered shirt fell more or less back into place, concealing the telltale handprint. "Everybody has one!"Don't give me that b.s.!" Morton shouted, his frenzied words echoing inside the cavern. An insane gleam came into his eyes, and Liz sensed that the volatile, trigger-happy gunman was on the verge of losing his cool altogether. Not an encouraging development. "What's going on here?" he ranted, his cowboy boots stamping against the floor of the cave. "What was that freaky light show your boyfriend put on back at the motel? And how did your friends pull that stunt with their cars?"He paced back and forth across the cave, yelling like a lunatic. "Those are your friends, right? The guy in my room. That pair at Denny's. The girl in my dreams…!" He fell silent for a second, realizing what he was saying. Throwing his cap on the ground, he ran a shaking hand over his balding cranium. "Are you trying to drive me insane, is that it?"No, no!" Liz assured him. She looked up at him plaintively, trying to convince him of her sincerity. "It's nothing like that! We're just a bunch of kids, that's all."Like hell you are!" Morton accused. He tore open the backpack and pulled out the two counterfeit gadgets.

"How do you explain these babies?" He laid the wire rosette on the floor of the cave and tapped it hesitantly with a pudgy finger. Nothing happened. Of course.

"Huh? What's the matter?" he wondered, looking utterly baffled. He savagely ripped the silver shower cap in half, then tried to get the two ragged pieces to merge together again, which was not about to take place. Frustrated and upset, unaware that he'd been conned by a bit of extraterrestrial sleight of hand, Morton flung the torn silver segments at Liz's lap. "What's wrong with them?" he demanded. "Why won't they work?"I don't know," Liz mumbled, uncertain what tack to take. What would rile Morton more, finding out his artifacts were fakes or thinking that they weren't? "Maybe they're broken?" she suggested meekly.

"Fix them!" he barked savagely. The muzzle of his gun pointed straight between her eyes. Could Max heal me, she wondered instantly, if I was shot in the head? "I can't," she pleaded helplessly. "My hands…" If nothing else, the duct tape gave her an excuse to leave the phony gadgets alone. Morton looked unconvinced, though, so she tried something eke. "Besides, repairs aren't my…area of expertise."Morton's trigger hand dropped to his side as he gazed at her wide-eyed. "So you are one of Them." His booming voice dropped to a raspy hush. "I always knew You were out there-where else could the merchandise come from?-but 1 never thought I'd ever run into one of You for real." He wiped the sweat from his glistening, sunburned brow. His bald spot, Liz observed, was paler and less florid than the rest of his head. "I was just trying to make a buck, you know?"He circled her warily, keeping his distance now that he thought she was a visitor from another planet. This would be funny, Liz thought, if it wasn't so dangerous. Pretending to be an alien was a risky game, but if it kept Morton away from her…

"Is that your real form?" he asked apprehensively, looking her over from several feet away. He was still hanging onto his gun, but at least it wasn't aimed at her skull anymore.

"It is now," Liz said cryptically. Keep him guessing, she thought.

"Damn!" Morton exclaimed, getting over his initial fright. "This is incredible." He stared at her as if she had suddenly sprouted tentacles or something. "Where- where are you from?"Liz raised her eyes heavenward, hoping she wouldn't be joining the angels soon. Is he buying this, she marveled, and do I really want him to? "Good God," he exclaimed. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes." Liz assumed he meant Max's force field, the missing bullet wound, and everything else, not her nonexistent tentacles. She didn't think Morton was that much of a psycho.

"Please, you can't tell anyone!" she begged, mimicking Max, Isabel, and Michael. If there was one thing she knew about being an alien, it was that they didn't like their secrets revealed. "We come in peace. We mean you no harm!"Was that too corny? she worried. Maybe I should just speck when spoken to.

"Tell anyone?" Morton laughed heartlessly. "I can't decide whether to kill you on the spot-or sell you to the highest bidder." He started pacing again, thinking out loud as he pondered the fate of his "alien" captive. "If those metal spaceship parts are worth a couple million, how much could I get for an actual alien?"Bloodthirsty rage and confusion succumbed to calculating gteed as the ruthless gunman considered his options. Dollar signs replaced the manic gleam in Morton's eyes, which started looking on Liz like she was just another piece of contraband salvaged from the Crash, Liz guessed that was an improvement, but she couldn't imagine that her alien act was a workable, long-term solution. Somehow I've got to get sway from Morton, she knew, before he figures out that I'm nothing more than a completely human eyewitness to Okada's murder.

Her gaze shifted from the sunlit entrance of the cave to the impenetrable darkness farther within. Who knew how deep-or how far-this tunnel extended into the Earth? Iiz didn't relish the idea of escaping into the lightless depths of the unexplored cave, but it might be her only option, provided Morton ever stopped watching her for a second. She wondered how far she'd have to descend before she'd be safe from his bullets? "Listen up, spacegirl," Morton snarled, interrupting her desperate search for a way out. He planted himself on a squat rock formation between Liz and the exit to the desert outside. "I've thought it over, and here's what we're going to do. The way I figure it, you're too valuable to just throw away, even if you are some kind of spooky monster from outer space. I have contacts in Mexico who will pay good money to examine your alien carcass, so you're coming with me across the border."He toyed with his loaded semi-automatic as his voice and expression grew deliberately threatening. "Here's the catch. A live alien is worth more than a dead one, but I'll settle for the lower price if you give me any trouble. Got that?"Liz nodded, afraid to speak for fear of giving herself away. From the sound of it, she had just bought herself a few more hours of life.

"Good." Morton appeared satisfied with her response. Relaxing somewhat, as he settled in to wait for Ramirez, he regarded Liz with frank curiosity. "You have a name?" he asked brusquely. "What do I call you anyway?"Liz went with the scariest alien name she could think of.

"Tess," she said. "My people call me Tess."