Melinda Metz - Roswell High 04 by The Watcher

Author:The Watcher
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-06-01T18:30:58+00:00

Chapter 9

Max reached out and took Liz’s hand in his left and Isabel’s in his right, completing the circle. The connection crackled between the six of them instantly.

This time their auras were like spears of laser light, slashing across the Evanses’ living room with an electric sizzle. Shooting out sparks where the six blades of light crossed in the center. There, in the heart of the circle, the six individual colors blazed in a ball of bright white light. His emerald green, Michael’s brick red, Maria’s sparkling blue, Liz’s warm amber, Isabel’s rich purple, and Alex’s bright orange combined into that one blinding light.

The hair on Max’s arms stood up as the strength of his friends blasted into him, turning his veins to live wires. It felt as if they were each directing their essence toward him. He laughed as Alex zapped him an image of Popeye’s muscles bulging after a can of spinach, then gasped as Liz showed him a flock of exotic parrots all taking flight at once. The images came faster and faster. Isabel showing herself hitting him with a shovel during a fight when they were kids. A shark, dead eyes and razor teeth torpedoing through the water from Michael. A flower going from blossom to full bloom in seconds from Maria.

An instant later the music rang out. One note for each of them. Each note a different frequency, each setting up its own vibration along his glowing veins.

He felt invincible. Every sense was filled with their connection. The colors of their auras, the sound and feel of their music, the emotion of their images, and the scents, the scents were exploding in his nose—the rose, the cedar, the eucalyptus, the ylang-ylang, the cinnamon, and the almonds. He pulled in a deep breath, drawing the perfumes deep into his lungs, into each tiny air sac.

Now, he told himself. Now!

He reached out with his mind, searching for a glimmer, a whisper, something to give him a direction. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to send a little part of him, of them, out into the universe. Past the edges of the galaxy. Deep into the silence of space.

He felt his body go weightless. Light, so light. As if it had been converted into pure electricity, streaking past planets that had no name. He could almost see them rushing by.

Somewhere out there was the combined psyche of every person who had lived on his planet. Somewhere out there was a living record of every thought, every emotion, every dream. He had to be able to feel that.

I’m here. I want to join you. I want to connect. Max tried to hurl the message out in front of him, throw it across the void.

Suddenly Max thought he heard an answer. As light as a single strand of hair slipping across his face, he thought he felt another mind, or minds, brush against his. He didn’t get an image, or a sound, or a scent. But still, he’d felt the touch of something not him.

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