The agent who came out of the driver's side was dark-haired, while the one who came out of the passenger side was blond.

"Who…?" Max heard the sheriff say.

"They're dangerous," Max said.

Apparently the sheriff believed him, because his hand went immediately to his holstered gun. Max felt his heart hammering in his chest, warning him of the danger he and the others were in.

The Special Unit agents were almost directly across the road from them.

"Get back in the van, son," Sheriff Taylor said.

Surprised, Max quickly opened the driver's side door and got in. Then he watched and listened through the open window.

"Federal law enforcement," the blond agent said. The agents waited for a few seconds while a car drove past them, then they crossed the street.

Max noted that the sheriff never took his hand from the butt of his still-holstered gun.

"FBI, Special Unit. We'll take over from here," the blond agent said when he reached their side of the street. The other agent was watching Max and the van closely.

"Thank you, sir, but we local law enforcement officers usually can handle these broken taillight situations just fine," Sheriff Taylor said.

The blond officer smiled, but the expression looked more like a sneer than it did a smile. The sheriff's hand tightened its grip on his gun. For a moment, Max had the almost irrational thought that the sheriff was on their side.

"Just relax, Sheriff," the blond agent said, reaching inside his suit jacket.

Before his hand got where it was going, the sheriff had his gun in his hand. "Freeze!" Sheriff Taylor said in a commanding voice.

Immediately, the agent stopped. Then something unpleasant crossed his face. It took the agent a few seconds to get himself under control, then he said, "I'm Agent Spellman of the FBI, Special Unit. I'm going to get my identification."

The sheriff nodded, keeping a steady gaze on both men. "Okay, Agent Spellman, do it very slowly and we won't have a problem."

The smile that appeared on Spellman's face seemed forced, but he nodded and slowly reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a wallet that he flipped open. Max couldn't see the inside of the wallet, but the sheriff leaned down and scanned it for a moment. He nodded, but did not put away his gun, which was still leveled directly at Agent Spellman.

"You FBI boys cracking down on vehicle safety?" the sheriff asked.

"I think even you can see this isn't about a broken tail-light. We'll take it from here," he said.

"No," Sheriff Taylor said.

"What?" Spellman said.

"1 said no. What you will do is go back to your car and get your superior on the line while 1 call for some assistance from some of my deputies. Then we'll all sort it out together," the sheriff said.

"That won't be necessary," Spellman said slowly. "We have jurisdiction."

"See, that's where you're wrong. This is my town, and I don't know you from Adam. I've never heard of the Special Unit, and I just plain don't like you, Agent Spellman."

Spellman glanced at the gun pointed at him. "Have it your way, Sheriff, but you will regret this," he said.

"I'm sure I will. Now, you and your friend run along," Sheriff Taylor said.

Spellman sneered at the sheriff, nodded to the other agent, and turned around. The sheriff watched them go for a moment, then turned toward his squad car. Suddenly, Agent Spellman jumped aside. As he did so, Max could see that he had been partially blocking the dark-haired agent, who was holding something in his hand.

Max's mind registered the device as a gun. Then he heard a pop and saw Sheriff Taylor fall to the ground.

They shot him, Max's mind supplied, but he couldn't believe it.

Max heard a sound behind him, and then he was moving without consciously willing his body to do it. He jumped out of the van and before his feet hit the ground, he had his hand out and projected a green defensive field.

Behind him he heard Michael, then he heard another pop and saw something hit his screen. It flashed brightly, and Max realized that it wasn't a bullet.

He saw the two agents standing a few yards away, both of them now holding guns. Then he immediately lowered the field, knowing that Michael would take care of the rest.

Michael did not disappoint him. His own hand raised, Michael released a blast that knocked the agents backward. For a moment, Max hoped that Michael hadn't killed the men, as he had Agent Pierce. Not for the agents' sakes, but for Michael's. Max knew his friend was still paying a heavy price for what he had done to Agent Pierce in order to save Max and the others.

Max felt a flood of relief when he saw the two agents move. They were lying on their backs, clearly dazed, but they were both shaking their heads and feeling around with their hands. That told Max that Michael had gained a lot of control over his energy.

Suddenly there was a blur of movement, and then Agent Spellman was spinning around while he was still lying on the ground. In the same movement he raised his gun, which Max could see was oddly shaped.

Again, Max reacted immediately. This time, he didn't put up the force field. Instead, he threw out pure energy and directed it at the gun in Agent Spellman's hand. There was a flash when the energy made contact with the weapon, then small pieces of metal went flying and Max had to duck when one flew past his head. He did the same with the other agent's gun, which was lying on the road a few yards away. This time, he made sure the force of the

mini-explosion took the pieces away from himself and his friends.

"Everyone okay?" he called, without taking his eyes off the two agents.

Each of his friends responded with a yes or a fine, and Max nodded, keeping his hand in the air. He was ready to act, and he wanted the agents to see that he was ready for them. Maybe that would keep them from trying anything else.

"I have the car, Max," Michael said.

"I'll check on the sheriff," Liz said.

Max nodded, not taking his eyes off the agents. It had begun to drizzle, and it was growing dark. The group needed to get moving. He heard a few pops coming from the direction of the agents' car. That was Michael, he realized. Max didn't take his eyes off the two men. A few seconds later, Michael was by his side.

"They had a radio, cell phones, and some pretty big guns. I took care of them," Michael said.

"Max, I don't think the sheriff's doing so well," Liz called.

"Watch them," Max said to Michael, and finally turned his attention away from the agents to the others who were huddled around Sheriff Taylor. "What did you do to him?" Max asked the agents, who looked at him in silence.

"Answer him!" Michael said, his hand glowing for a moment. The agents jumped when Michael shouted, and for a second, Max saw fear on their faces. "Now!" Michael shouted.

"High energy tazer dart," Agent Spellman said.

Max knelt down next to the sheriff and looked at it.

"He's breathing, but his pulse is slow and erratic. I think the tazer might have affected his heart."

Max nodded. He pulled the tazer dart out of the man's chest. Taylor didn't respond at all.

Putting both hands on the sheriff's chest, Max reached out gently with his powers. He saw the heart. It was damaged. Some of the blood flow had been cut off. The problem was compounded by the fact that there were blockages on the major arteries leading to the heart. Max knew if he didn't act immediately, Sheriff Taylor would die before help came. He didn't hesitate. Max repaired the damage to the heart quickly, then he worked on the blockages. It took some extra time, but he felt they owed the sheriff something since he had been hurt while trying to help them. Immediately, Sheriff Taylor's color began to improve and his breathing became stronger.

A few seconds more and the sheriff blinked his eyes and started to come around. Acting quickly, Max put a hand on the man's forehead and put him to sleep for a little while. They had enough problems without dealing with the sheriff's questions right now.

Agent Spellman said, "What did you do to him, Max?" Max was surprised to hear the man use his name. Spellman continued: "We know who you are, Max Evans. You and your friends." Spellman looked at each of the others in turn and said, "Michael, Isabel, Kyle, Liz, and Maria. We know all of you."

These men were with the Special Unit. They wanted to take him and the others into the White Room to ask their questions and do their tests. Max had hoped that the Special Unit had been destroyed when Tess blew up the air

force base. Either some members of the unit had survived, or it had been reformed quickly. "Leave us alone," Max said, keeping his voice steady with effort.

"Can't do that," Spellman said. "What did you do to him, Max?" he repeated.

Max felt anger rise up in him. "I saved his life. You nearly killed him."

"That doesn't win you any points with us, Max," Spellman said, a sneer on his face.

It was then Max noticed that Spellman was bleeding from one cheek. There was a gash running under one eye. Max guessed it was from when he had blown up the agent's gun in his hand. "I just want you to leave us alone," Max said.

"That will never happen," Spellman said.

Then there was a sudden burst of energy as Michael hurled a blast at the street next to the agents. The men ducked in surprise but quickly recovered.

"You can kill us, Evans, but we'll be replaced tomorrow and then the Unit will find you… sooner or later. You can't hide forever."

"Let me have them," Michael said. "Let me suck out their brains."

Max saw something in his friend's eyes and decided to play along. "It will just draw more attention to us," he said.

Michael showed the disappointment on his face. "But we haven't eaten properly in so long." Max found that he couldn't help smiling. Michael smiled back, and Max was grateful for the thousandth time that when his mother had sent him to Earth, she had sent Michael with him.

"This may be a joke to you, Evans, but there are forces within the United States government that take your alien agenda very seriously," Spellman said.

"We don't have an agenda. We just want you to leave us alone," Max said.