Five years made for a lot of dust and cobwebs, Lainey thought as she swept the kitchen floor. Earlier, she had found a rat's nest, several small piles of bones, and assorted animal droppings. All were gone now, picked up and scrubbed away.
Micah was sleeping, tucked between clean sheets and the blankets from her bed at home. She had changed the bandage on his arm, realizing, as she did so, that they had deliberately cut into him, taking little bits and pieces to study, she guessed. The thought made her sick to her stomach. Thank God she'd gotten him out of there before they did any real damage, she thought, and then wondered if she had. He had a low fever, but didn't seem to be in any pain in spite of the raw place on his chest and the shallow incision on his arm. He was still dizzy, groggy, a little disoriented. He said he had been drugged. What if the drug had permanent adverse effects on him?
She shook her head, refusing to think about the worst until it happened. For now, all that mattered was that Micah was there.
It took twelve hours for the drug they had given him to wear off.
Micah slept most of that time. Lainey sat beside his bed, afraid to leave him alone for more than a few minutes at a time in case he woke up and needed something. She touched him frequently, assuring herself that he was really there. His color was good. His fever was gone; the faint blue glow that had emanated from his skin seemed almost nonexistent and that worried her because she didn't know if it was a good sign or not.
Once, he cried out as though he were in pain and she took his hand in hers and held it tightly. He quieted instantly at her touch, and then he murmured her name.
She wept then, tears of gratitude because he was alive, tears of despair because she was afraid of what the future held.
"Lainey?"
Her head jerked up at the sound of his voice. "Micah! You're awake."
He nodded groggily. "Where are we?"
"At my grandmother's cabin in the mountains. We'll be safe here. No one knows about this place except my folks, and even they don't know we're here."
Lainey chewed on the inside of her lip, knowing how worried her parents would be when they didn't hear from her. In a day or two, she would have to drive down to Chadds Creek and call home.
Micah glanced around the room. It was small and square, with blue walls and checked curtains at the windows. "How did we get here?''
Lainey tilted her head to one side. "You don't remember?"
"No."
"It doesn't matter. We're here, and we're safe."
"The transmitter!" Micah exclaimed. "I've got to go back..."
She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down, Micah. I've got it with me."
He relaxed visibly, and she wondered what was so important about a broken radio.
"How do you feel?" she asked.
"Weak."
"Maybe you should eat something?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Well, I'm going to fix you some tea and toast just the same."
She brought him a tray a few minutes later and he obediently ate the dry toast and drank the tea, only to have it all come up again.
Lainey quickly cleaned up the mess, then changed the sheets.
"I'm sorry," Micah said. He refused to meet her gaze, embarrassed by his weakness, and by the fact that she had seen it.
"No," Lainey said, "I'm sorry. You said you weren't hungry. I should have listened. I just wish I knew what to do to make you feel better."
"Your being here makes me feel better," he murmured. "Come, sit beside me."
He didn't have to ask her twice. She sat down beside him, and he pillowed his head in her lap and closed his eyes.
"Micah? Your blue glow is almost gone."
"Is it?" He opened his eyes and studied his arm, surprised to see that the glow was, indeed, very faint.
"What does it mean?"
"I'm not sure." He closed his eyes again and burrowed deeper into Lainey's lap. "It might be a reaction to the drug they gave me," he murmured after a while, "or maybe it's fading because I'm becoming accustomed to the earth's atmosphere."
Lainey felt a little thrill of hope. If the blue glow disappeared altogether, he'd look pretty much like any other man except for the webbing on his hands and the size of his ears. But those things could be explained away as a birth defect, she thought, or