He could not have let her die. So he saved her and the whole group of them paid for his single act. Alex paid with his life.

Isabel paid with the end of her short marriage to Jesse and her only chance at a normal life.

Liz paid in tears. Way too many of them. She paid in other ways, too, deeper and more important ones.

But no more, Max vowed. If he accomplished nothing else with the rest of his life, he would keep her safe and do his best to make her happy for as long as she would have him.

Turning to Michael, Max whispered, breaking the silence that had lasted almost an hour. "You were right, you know," he said.

"What?" Michael asked.

"Three years ago, after Liz was shot… you were right," Max said.

Max saw his friend looking at him with raised eye- brows. "That's funny, Maxwell, I was just thinking that I was wrong. It you had listened to me, Liz would have died.”

"No," Max said, shaking his head gently. "I was right about that, but we should have done this that night. We should have run.”

For a moment, Michael was silent, and Max saw every- thing he needed to see in his best friend's eyes. Michael didn't gloat, though.

Michael made a small grin and said, "Does this mean that from now on you'll listen to me?”

Max found himself returning the grin. "I always lis- tened.”

"And then did whatever the hell you wanted," Michael added. "What's the plan now?”

"Plan? You're asking the wrong guy. I'm just the driver," Max replied.

Michael seemed surprised. Then he nodded.

He knows I'm serious, Max thought. And I am. More seri- ous than I have ever been.

Michael smiled again. "Okay, Jeeves, tell me when we get there." He leaned back in his seat.

Max saw something he almost couldn't identify on his best friend's face. A smile. Not a grin, but a smile… an actual, full-blown smile.

It took Max a moment to figure out what was wrong with that smile. He realized there were two things. First, Michael smiling at all was unusual. The second was that the smile looked almost… relaxed.

In the last three years… and even the fifteen before that… Max could rarely remember seeing Michael relaxed.

Something had changed in Michael, Max knew. He just wasn't sure what it was yet.

Well, I've got plenty oj time to figure it out, Max thought.

It took a moment for him to realize how important that notion was. In the past, he had jumped on every mystery or question as if his life and the lives of the others had depended on it. Quite often their lives had depended on those answers. Depended on Max acting quickly. On doing the right thing, making the right move.

Not anymore.

Now they had time.

Max and Liz had time to sort themselves out. Max had time to figure out what was happening with Michael. Isabel had time to come to terms with losing Jesse.

Time and open road.

Max smiled to himself and realized that his own smile was relaxed as well.

2

It took a moment for Liz to realize where she was. She looked around as the room seemed to take form, to solidify.

She was standing alone in the band room. Waiting. For Max.

She was excited. Nervous but excited.

Max was going to meet her. It was a secret meeting, and the thought thrilled her for a second. Guilt rose up. Kyle couldn't know. He wouldn't understand.

She didn't understand yet, herself, but she was sure that Max would explain it to her. He would explain what he had done to her. How he had saved her. How he had mag- ically healed the gunshot wound in her stomach.

How he had brought her back to life.

Liz realized she should be afraid of Max, but she wasn't because she loved him and he loved her.

No.

Not yet. That would come later.

She was aware of that contradiction, but it didn't trouble her. The logic of dreams made it all perfectly clear.

And this was a good dream. Liz would not question it.

Max was coming and he would explain everything. Then she had something to tell him.

After a few moments of waiting, he entered the room. Liz could see his perpetually serious expression soften for a moment when he saw her. Something flashed in his eyes and across his face. Liz was sure there was no single word for that expression, but she knew it was good.

She was also sure that something similar passed across her own face.

Then Max's control was back and his expression grim. "Liz, we need to talk," he said simply.

It was then that Liz realized that she didn't want to talk. There had been too much talk. Three years of discussion. Three years of worry.

A voice inside her said, None of that has happened yet. You are not with Max yet. You are with Kyle.

It was easy to push the voice down. It was even easier to lean into Max and kiss him. He responded immediately.

Of course, he was her… boyfriend. The word seemed much too small for what he was to her, but it would have to suffice until… until what? Until that changed, sometime in the future. Not the future of the dream, Liz realized, but the future of her waking now.

Even in her dream state, Liz was aware of the difference between her dream reality and the reality that awaited her when she woke up.

It was another contradiction that didn't trouble Liz as she kissed him more deeply. He pulled her to him.

They were done with questions, problems, and issues.

Finally, they had found their answer. Liz was sure she had found hers, and she held him tightly.

Her awareness shifted to the real world, which she felt hovering above her like the surface of the water when you were under it. A hand brushed her cheek. Max's hand, she was sure.

The touch was a like an electric shock. She felt the room shifting around her. She also felt Max slipping out of her arms.

When the world solidified around her, she realized that he had disappeared.

No, not exactly, she realized.

Taking in her new surroundings, Liz saw that it was she who had disappeared. There were lockers on both sides of her.

I'm in the hallway of school, she thought. Immediately, Liz realized that she didn't want to be here. Something was wrong with this place.

Liz started to run, trying to find her way back to the band room, where she sensed Max was waiting for her.

She tried every door she found, but they were all locked. Though the classroom doors all had glass panes, she couldn't see inside any of them.

We're running out oj time, a voice that Liz dimly recog- nized as her own rose up inside her.

Finally, she came to a single door with a light on inside. "Max," she called out as she peered inside. The single fig- ure inside the classroom was not Max, though.

It was Alex.

But Alex is dead, she thought.

Pulling on the door, she saw that it was locked. Alex obviously heard her and turned to see her. He looked at her calmly and expectantly.

Liz pulled on the door with all of her strength.

Alex will help me, she thought desperately. He will help me find Max.

But the door wouldn't budge.

We're running out of time, the inner voice yelled.

Turning, Liz looked down the hallway. At the very end she could see the door to the band room.

Her legs felt like jelly, but Liz made them work through sheer will. Soon, she was racing down the hall at full speed and somehow finding more strength to go even faster.

Max is behind that door, Liz thought, but the door receded, even as she approached.

Then there was a flash of orange light that threw Liz to the hallway floor. When she looked up, a wall of flames stood in front of her, blocking her way to Max.

Then she sensed something behind her. A monster, the inner voice said. And this one's real.