Michael felt a pair of hands shaking him, although DuPris hadn't touched him. DuPris wasn't even in the room anymore.

What the hell?

"I know you need your beauty sleep, but you have to wake up," Max's voice insisted.

Michael jerked upright and opened his eyes. "Thanks," he mumbled. "I was having a heinous nightmare. Cameron turned into DuPris and-" He shook his head. "You get the idea."

"Nasty," Max said. He stepped back, and Michael noticed for the first time that the rest of the group was there, too. Max's sister, Isabel, hovered by the bedroom door along with Liz Ortecho, Maria DeLuca, and Adam.

For a moment Michael wondered what he'd done to earn the honor of a group wake-up call, but then he groggily recalled the plan.

They were supposed to go out to the ruins of the Project Clean Slate compound to find their ship-the one DuPris had crashed back in 1947, killing Michael's and Max's and Isabel's parents… and Adam's. For years Michael had searched for the ship. Then just a few weeks ago he and his friends had discovered that Project Clean Slate, an organization dedicated to tracking down and possibly disposing of alien life on earth, had been hiding it in their secret compound for decades.

Unfortunately, Michael had only discovered the ship because Sheriff Valenti had trapped him in the compound. Michael's friends had stormed the place and broken him out, and the compound was destroyed in the process. The upside was Valenti and the rest of the Clean Slate crew were history. Ashes. Vapor. The enemy had been obliterated.

The downside was the ship might be history, too.

"So, the gang's all here," Michael said. "If I could get a little privacy, I'll get dressed and then we'll hit the road." Then he noticed the silence and the worried looks on his friends' faces. "What's up?" he asked.

Nobody replied, and a sick feeling twisted Michael's stomach. Somebody's missing, he realized, the first wings of panic fluttering in his chest. And it's not Alex…