"How're you holding up, kid?" Maria asked sympathetically, abandoning her and Alex's happy act.

"I don't know," Liz confessed, grateful for a shoulder to cry on. "I can't stop thinking about it. The shooting at the Crashdown, I mean." Her yellow, formerly green, sweater was crumpled into a ball on the seat of the bench, but she was still overdressed for the torrid heat of the New Mexican summer. The Visitors Center, only a few yards away, was air-conditioned, but she just wasn't ready to deal with a building full of strangers right now. Despite the raging sun cooking the three teens to a crisp, Liz craved privacy and quiet more than she needed relief from the heat. "I know, I should be over it, after all this time. Max healed me right away, so I was really only hurt for a couple of minutes, but, ever since I saw Morton again, it's like it's happening all over again!"Perched atop the back of the bench, Alex kept looking over at the front door of the Center. Iiz knew he had to be wondering what was keeping Isabel. "That's perfectly understandable," he assured Liz. "I got beaten up on the way home from school once, and for weeks afterward, I couldn't walk that route without looking over my shoulder the whole time." He squinted into the glaring sunlight, keeping an eye out for Isabel and/or Morton. "I got over it, eventually," he told Liz. "So will you."I hope so, she thought despairingly. She hated feeling so weak and fragile. I've been captured by alien shapeshifters for heaven's sake, and lived to tell of it, so why has this left me such a wreck? She choked back a sob as she buried her face against Maria's shoulder. Tears streamed from her eyes.

Sighing in sympathy, Maria held onto Liz's shaking frame. "Oh, gee," she murmured, sounding choked up herself. Maria took a restorative sniff from a vial of rosemary oil, then waved the tiny glass bottle under her distraught friend's nose as well. "Look, Liz, if you want, I can drive you home in the Jetta right now. Alex can wait for our alien buddies, and hitch a ride home in the Jeep."Sure," he volunteered readily. "No problem. You can take off whenever you want." His gawky frame, seated above Liz and Maria, provided a bit of welcome shade for his friends. "Don't worry about me."Liz shook her head vehemently. The rosemary oil had done little to soothe her anguished spirit. "No, I can't. Not yet." She was in no shape to face her parents, not in the frazzled and fragile state she was in. They had no idea what had almost happened to her in the Crashdown that day, let alone everything she'd been through since. There's no way I could hide what I'm feeling from Mom and Dad, she realized.

"Okay," Maria said soothingly. "No rush. Just wanted you to know you've got the option, whenever you feel up to it."Thanks," Liz managed with difficulty. She knew she couldn't stay here, sitting on this bench forever, but the mere thought of doing anything else, taking any kind of decisive action, was just too daunting. Where are Max and Michael? she fretted in an agony of suspense, terrified that something horrible would happen to them while they were trailing Morton to who knew where. Shouldn't they be back by now? She needed to know that Max was safe and coming back to her soon. Who will heal him, she tormented herself, if both he and Michael are shot? In her mind's eye, she could see Morton taking aim at the only boy she had ever really loved BANG! A sudden loud explosion caused Liz to leap to her feet and let out a gasp of sheer terror. Her heart pounded like a jackhammer, and she was suddenly back at the Crashdown again, feeling the bullet slam into her belly, knocking her to the floor. The smell of smoke and burned gunpowder filled her throat, and she clutched her stomach in alarm. Help me! Max! Maria! I've been shot! "No, Liz! It's okay!" Maria grabbed onto Liz's arm to keep her from running away in fear. She thrust her face in front of Liz's, trying urgently to penetrate the instant panic stampeding through her friend. "It was just a car, Liz! Backfiring in the parking lot." Behind her, Alex jumped awkwardly from the bench onto the sidewalk, coming to their assistance, a dismayed look upon his face. "Only a car, that's all!"A car? Liz didn't understand. Adrenaline flooded her body, spurring an uncontrollable urge to run for safety She tugged on her arm, trying to break away from Maria's steady grip. Her frantic eyes searched wildly for Joe Morton and his smoking gun. A car? she dimly registered, blinking in fright and confusion. But I was shot, wasn't I? Pain, or the memory of pain, throbbed below her ribs. She looked down apprehensively, expecting to see blood gushing from her abdomen, seeping through her lightweight cotton T-shirt, but saw nothing of the kind, not even a single, charred bullet hole in her shirt. "A car?" she asked uncertainly.

Her friends flanked her on both sides, offering her reassurance and support. "That's right," Maria insisted once more. She took Liz's hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "It was just a car, Liz."Alex seconded Maria's emphatic assertions. "It's okay, Liz," he said, taking hold of her other hand. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Everything's fine."Really? Liz wondered hopefully. The unreasoning panic began to subside as her friends' calming words sank in. She felt her pulse slowing to something closer to normal. Her breathing grew softer and more regular as she shakily contemplated the adjacent parking lot, which was crammed with dusty station wagons, SUVs, and vehicles from all over the country. It could have been a car, her fear-stricken mind gradually conceded. That ear- shattering, nerve-jangling bang might have been just a routine backfire, brought on by a faulty muffler or carburetor. But what about the pain, the agonizing impact of the bullet striking her flesh? She could've sworn that she'd been shot once more.

Liberating her hand from Marias consoling clasp, she gripped the bottom of her T-shirt and tugged the fabric upward, needing to see for herself that she was indeed unharmed. Her worst, most dire fears and expectations were not at all allayed when both Alex and Maria gasped out loud at the sight of her exposed belly. Filled with fear and trepidation, she looked down and let out a startled cry herself. "Oh, my God," she whispered.

There was no wound, no blood, but something else caused her eyes to widen and her jaw to drop. There, emblazoned on the quivering flesh of her bare stomach, was a phosphorescent silver handprint, glowing brighter than the noonday sun.

Good thing we don't have heat vision, Michael Guerin thought. Otherwise Max's ferocious glare would have burned a hole in the back of Joe Mortons skull.

The alien youths lurked at the back of the elevator, accompanying the mysterious gunman on his way back to the surface. Fortunately, Morton's size and girth made it fairly easy to keep track of him, even in the crowded elevator. Michael figured the odds that the scruffy stranger, who reminded him unpleasantly of his vanished foster father Hank, would recognize him and Max from the Crashdown were incredibly remote. Morton and his sleazy confederate had fled the scene of the shooting well before Max called attention to himself with his miraculous (and highly imprudent) laying of hands upon Liz. He never knew that his single bullet had changed all of their lives forever.

The baleful intensity with which Max's eyes shot daggers at Morton made Michael uncomfortable. It wasn't like Max to lose control like this. Usually he was more cautious, more thoughtful-except, of course, for that day at the Crashdown. Maybe I've got good reason to be worried, Michael thought; the last time Morton threatened Liz, Max had risked everything by using his powers in public. Who knew what rash action Max might take now that, after all these months, the deadly gunman had reentered their lives? Seven hundred and fifty feet later, the elevator disgorged its occupants into the Visitors Center atop the caverns. Morton ignored the various educational displays on the history of the park, featuring large mounted photos of such earthly luminaries as Calvin Coolidge and Herbert Hoover visiting the caves, and headed straight for the nearest exit. Max and Michael chased after him, trying hard not to be too conspicuous about it.