to keep the binder and writing utensils on the floor near him every night, from then on. He readied the pencil he'd chosen and as soon as he placed it on the paper it seemed to take off, sketching on its own! Mike had all he could do to hold the eraser in his left hand!
The "Spirit", if that's what it was making the pencil work, seemed to impress upon the boy an urgency to convey a message of importance. And though Mike relaxed and did everything he thought would possibly help things to happen correctly, the finished product in seconds, was revealed to be the same as the other he'd done earlier. It was still the old MLC! Mike shivered after he'd finished. There was something creepy about something you couldn't control, whether it was your own hand, or a far-away weapon.
"Damn!" Mike swore softly, to himself, as the chilled feeling left him as quickly as it had come. He once again made himself comfortable for the night. "What have I gotten myself into this time? What does all this mean...my accident, my strange powers, and all these picture puzzles?" He felt a blanket of depression overtake him as he pulled the material ones up to his chin....but why? He'd had a wonderful night, and wasn't TRULY worried about anything.
"Doc, I can't wait to see you tomorrow," he sighed, "Maybe someone can find the answers. If anyone does, it's GOT to be you!" Mike fell into a deep, calm sleep as soon as he'd shut his eyes.
Mike woke feeling in a better mood the next morning. He noticed with a glance at his old alarm clock he'd managed to awaken the usual time he did on a work day. "Oh...." he shrugged, "so what?"
After a quick shower in the shared bathing room down the hall, and a fast breakfast of cereal, he dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans, threw on a light jacket, and rushed off toward Dr. Cooper's lab. The fresh air felt good, even though it was a dark and cloudy day. Mike noticed that he didn't feel as weak this morning, as he had the others. Maybe the results of the accident were wearing off.
Mike was so engrossed he didn't see or hear the speeding truck until it was almost on top of him, then the blast of an air horn brought him back to the present. He instinctively leapt back, as the massive vehicle roared passed.
"Phew!" he gasped, "Haven't seen one of them in ages! Must be some research supplies coming in!"
As Mike started off across the road again, he noticed something gleaming in the sun, and reached down to pick it up. It was three links of chain, the kind they used to tie down cargo on a truck. They looked strange, as if they had struck something very hard and hot, and been fused together.