"Help!" he shouted.

"No one is going to help you, kid," Uncle Fred said as he and his buddy stepped away from the bed.

Michael sat up and tried to stand. He only made it about half way to his feet before he collapsed to his knees. "What have you done to me?" he asked. He was alarmed to hear just how slurred his words were.

Fred ignored his question. "You know stuff, kid. You know more than you're telling, and I want to know what it is. We're going to have another little question and answer session, and this time you better have some answers."

Michael couldn't feel his arms or his legs. Kyle had warned him about the drugs, but he hadn't taken it very seriously. He hadn't believed for a moment that these two could be any possible kind of threat to him. He fought against the drug's effects, but it wasn't working. His mind seemed to be floating somewhere around the ceiling, and he couldn't quite pull it down and stuff it back in his head where it belonged. He heard somebody talking, and he realized it was Fred asking questions.

"Where are the missing files?" Fred asked.

"I don't know," Michael replied, very slurred.

"I'm beginning to believe him," No Name said from somewhere behind him. "He shouldn't be able to lie through the dose I gave him."

"Maybe," Fred answered. Redirecting his attention back to Michael he said, "Kyle, tell me about the aliens here in Roswell."

"Aliens in Roswell?" Michael asked, trying to focus on the question.

"Who's an alien, Kyle?" Fred urged.

"Me," Michael heard himself say. "I'm an alien." His mind floating far above kept sending the message to keep his mouth shut, but the drug-induced desire to answer held firm control.

"Oh, this is wonderful," Fred sneered at his companion. "You gave him so much of that shit he things he's an alien. Great idea you had, upping the dose, thank you very much. We're getting valuable information now." The object of his sarcasm dropped his eyes and shuffled his feet. Fred snorted and returned his attention to Michael. "Kyle, where are the aliens in Roswell?"

"At the UFO Museum," Michael heard himself say. His world started to go dark. The only sound he could hear was his heart thudding in his chest. So much for me being able to take care of himself was Michael's last thought as fell face forward onto the floor.

"Damn it!" Fred shouted at his companion. "I told you that was too much of that shit to give him. Nothing he said made any sense at all. You've got him thinking he's a fricking alien! And now look at him." Fred waved at Michael, unconscious on the floor. "I didn't want to have to drag this kid all the way to headquarters, but now we don't have any choice." He turned on his heel and headed out the door. "Get him in the van," he barked over his shoulder.

@@@@@@@@@@

Maria scrambled out of bed and grabbed for clothes. Panic was setting in, and she tried to focus on each individual task at hand. If she didn't, she knew she would start to scream and wouldn't be able to stop. Underwear, check. Jeans, check. Sweatshirt, check. Shoes, check.

She had to get to Liz. Liz would know what to do, she thought as she grabbed her jacket and car keys. She quelled the urge to fling open her bedroom door and run as fast as she could through the house. It was 12:30 in the morning, and she didn't have time to explain anything to her mother.

Maria crept through the house and quietly out the front door. She had left her car parked on the street, something she hated to do. But now she was glad that she had. She got in, started the engine and pulled away from the curb heading directly for the Ochoa household.

Maria tapped on Liz's bedroom window. Liz stirred and immediately let her in.

"Maria, what's wrong?" she demanded.

"Liz, we have to do something!" she blurted out.

Liz knew her friend. She wouldn't be able to make sense of anything Maria said until she calmed down a bit. She took both of Maria's hands in hers and looked into her eyes. "OK, here's what you're going to do. Take three slow deep breaths and then try again."

Maria followed Liz's instruction and found herself feeling a bit more collected. She closed her eyes to further calm herself, and then opened them. "I was asleep, and Michael came to my dream. We were in a beautiful garden, and I was wearing this incredible lavender dress that was so soft and the wind was blowing and the dress was brushing against me in all these places, and it was so incredibly sexy, and……"

"Maria!" Liz interrupted squeezing her friend's hands.

"Sorry. We were walking along and we stopped to kiss. And then he pulled away from me and screamed like he was in terrible pain. He said 'help' and then he disappeared. There's something wrong. Something has gone wrong and we have to help him."

@@@@@@@@@@

Michael's head bounced on the seat. It hurt. In fact it hurt like hell. He tried to marshal his woozy senses to figure out where he was. In a car. A van actually, going at a pretty good rate of speed, which meant they were on the highway. He wondered how long he had been out, and how far they had traveled from Roswell. For that matter, in which direction?

"Well, look who's awake," said Uncle Fred. His companion glanced back from the driver's seat and smirked.

Well hell, Michael thought, apparently he hadn't done such a good job of looking like he was still out. And he was fairly disgusted at himself for allowing these two thugs to sneak up on him while he was dream walking with Maria.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"We're heading to the regional headquarters."

"Where's that?"

Uncle Fred looked at him askance. "Like you don't know."

"Give me a break, OK? My head hurts," Michael complained.

"I'll bet it does. That's one of the down sides of that drug. Of course it isn't a down side for me, so what the hell do I care?" Uncle Fred and his buddy laughed.

Michael decided to try to sit up. He made it, but he paid a price. His head swam and the headache escalated up several notches. He looked out the window. All he could see was miles and miles of desert. He kept his eyes glued to the side of the road waiting for a highway sign.

@@@@@@@@@@

Max and Isabel sat on Max's bed. Liz sat on the floor at Max's feet. Maria paced back and forth in front of all of them. She had repeated the story for Max and Isabel, and she was hoping against hope that Max would have an ready answer of what they should do next. However, right now she was feeling more than a bit disappointed because they had offered nothing

She spread her hands. "What are we going to do?"

"I think the only thing we can do right now is to see if Kyle has any idea where they might have taken him," Max said.

"I agree," Isabel said grabbing one of her brother's jackets. "Let's go."

Maria pounded on Michael's apartment door. A few seconds later Kyle, clad only in a pair of boxers, opened it looking very sleepy. He stepped aside as Maria flew past him into the apartment.

"What's going on?" Kyle asked.

"You're friends have kidnapped Michael," Maria answered. But when she saw the stricken look on Kyle's face, she realized she had been too harsh. "I'm sorry. They're not your friends, I know that. But Michael is gone, and we don't know where, and I am freaking out. Where would these creeps have taken him?"

Kyle rubbed his face trying to wake up. "I don't know. Wait! They said they had come from the division headquarters. Maybe they took him back there."

"Where is that?" Max demanded.

"Albuquerque."

"What are we waiting for?" Maria demanded heading toward the door. "We have to catch up with them."

"Wait for me!" Kyle said dashing to the bedroom and pulling on pants and a shirt. Maria paced in front of the door until he rejoined the group.