Melinda Metz - The Salvation

Liz locked one of her legs over his, then slid both her hands under his shirt so she could feel his skin. Closer. She wanted to be even closer.

"Max," she gasped, speaking his name against his lips.

Suddenly his mouth went slack. It slipped away from hers, and Max's head fell against Liz's shoulder as if all the muscles in his neck had been cut.

"Max!" Liz shouted. "Max!" His motionless body pinned her to the mattress, pressing down on her until she thought her heart and lungs would cease to function. "Max!" she screamed again.

Suddenly she was free. She sat up and found Alex and Isabel pulling Max to the other side of the bed. "What happened?" Alex demanded. "Did he attack you?"

"No." Liz shoved herself to her feet. "That's not…" She raised her fingers to her lips. They were still warm from Max's. "He kissed me."

Don't even think about demanding to know the exact meaning of "I'm thinking about it," Maria ordered herself. Don't even think about begging to know if he's going to go or if he's going to stay. She stared out at the straight stretch of highway leading to Albuquerque, not allowing herself even a sidelong, superfast peek at Michael. She could feel the questions on her tongue, crouched down, waiting to leap out.

No. No, no, no, she thought. Remember the last time you decided to hand Michael an ultimatum-choose between me and Isabel right here, right now? Remember what a babbling, stammering, sweating hunk of patheticness you were that day? And remember how you so did not like what you heard? You were positive you'd feel better if you could just make Michael say something concrete. But you were wrong. Wrong to the power of infinity. So learn from your past mistakes. Even rats in mazes can learn from their mistakes, and so can you. Keep your mouth shut.

Maria locked her teeth together. She crossed her legs. She crossed her arms. She tightened her muscles, using all her strength and will to not speak.

"Do you need to stop?" Michael asked, not even looking at her. "There's a gas station in a couple of miles, I think."

"Mmm-mmm," Maria answered, shaking her head. She didn't dare to allow herself any actual words.

"Are you sure?" he pressed.

"I'm not a toddler. I know if I have to pee or not, Michael, all right?" she blurted out. She clamped her teeth back together hard-and caught a tiny piece of her tongue between them. Do not attempt to speak again, she told herself. She'd felt this sucking sensation when she'd opened her mouth to make the pee announcement. If she hadn't gotten her lips together as fast as she had, a whole flood of words would have come rushing out. It would not have been pretty.

Maria scrunched her jean jacket into a ball, propped it against the window, and rested her head on it. She wasn't kidding herself. She knew that there was no chance she'd fall asleep. But pretending to fall asleep would make it easier to keep the dam of her teeth closed tight against the words.

She concentrated on keeping her breathing slow and even, which was the best way of appearing really zonked out, but for some reason the slower she breathed, the harder her heart pounded, slamming painfully against her ribs. It felt like it was trying to escape, to say the words she wouldn't allow her lips and tongue to form-Michael, what in the holy hell does "I'm thinking about it" mean? Are you going? Are you staying? And what about me?

"We're here," Michael announced. Maria only opened her eyes after the car came to a complete stop, then she scrambled out of the passenger door and started toward the main entrance of the Bradley Institute without waiting for Michael.

She rushed inside and over to the front desk. "I-we're-here to see Kyle Valenti," she said breathlessly, trying to concentrate on something other than the possibility that Michael was going to be living in another galaxy in the near future.

"That's nice," the nurse answered with a way-too-big smile. "Kyle hasn't had many visitors. Just his aunt." She pushed a clipboard toward Maria. "I just need you to sign here."

Maria did, then moved farther down the counter so Michael had room to sign as well. She caught a glimpse of his hands as he wrote and wished she hadn't. Just looking at them made her think about all kinds of things she didn't want to think about. Like the way they felt tangled in her hair. Or stroking her back. Not that his hands had been doing anything like that in a long time.

"I'll buzz you in," the nurse said, pulling Maria away from her thoughts. "Kyle's in the common room. It's the second door to the left."

Michael continued to trail along behind her, which wasn't exactly like him. Apparently he wasn't all that eager to talk to her, either. But why? She wasn't the one who was planning on deserting him.

"This is the second door," Michael announced from behind her.

"I knew that." Maria spun around and marched back down the hall to the second door. Michael opened it for her like she was some kind of invalid or something, and she strode through. She scanned the room and saw Kyle and a couple of older men parked on a ratty couch in front of the tube.

"Kyle," she blurted out, her voice sounding oddly loud in the large room.

Kyle looked up, but he didn't seem very excited to have visitors. He shoved himself to his feet and headed over to them.

"What?" he demanded.

"How have you been?" Maria said, suddenly nervous and wishing she'd thought to bring him some candy or something. Kyle wasn't one of her favorite people, but nobody should have to live in a place like this. It was clean, and the nurse had seemed friendly and all, but the place smelled… depressing. There was too much Pine Sol filling the air.

"You did not come here to find out how I've been," Kyle answered, voice flat. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. Maria had to concentrate to keep from taking a step back.

"The guy who killed your father is dead," Michael said, voice low and intense.

A flash of emotion-pain, anger, sorrow-burst across Kyle's face, then he tightened his lips and stared at them expressionlessly. "You didn't come here to tell me that, either. You want something."

"You're right. I'm not going to try to feed you a load of bull," Michael answered. "We need the device-the one you used on the Stone that day."

"Oh, sure. I have it right here in my pocket," Kyle said sarcastically.

"This is important, Kyle," Maria told him, looking him in the eye. "Life and death."

"Well, Liz should have thought about whether or not you would need me for anything before she got me shipped here," Kyle answered.

"Liz didn't-" Maria protested.

"Like hell she didn't," Kyle interrupted. "I got put on the express train to squirrelville the same day Liz told those reporters I hadn't been myself since my dad died. Coincidence? I don't think so."

"What do you want, Valenti?" Michael demanded in a harsh whisper. "Money?"

Kyle laughed, a laugh that went on way too long. Maybe the kid did belong in a loony bin. "Yeah. They have a great mall in here."

"Then what?" Michael asked. Maria noticed his hands curling into fists. She wrapped her fingers around his arm, silently warning him not to lose his temper and trying to ignore the heat she could feel seeping from Michael's body into hers.

"Oh, gosh. It looks like it's time for my meds." Kyle jerked his chin toward another nurse, who had begun moving through the room with a tray of little paper cups. "You'll have to excuse me." He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Maria and Michael staring after him helplessly.

"We never should have sent Michael and Maria to get information from Kyle," Isabel told Trevor, tucking a stray blond hair behind her ear as she perched on the edge of her bed. "Neither of them has the necessary finesse."