Sunlight

by Amanda Ashley

  “Nothing.”

  “Micah, I know you better than that. What’s wrong?”

  “I need something to do, something to occupy my time.”

  “What would you like to do?”

  “I don’t know.” He rolled onto his side, facing her. “I love you, Lainey, more than my own life, but I can’t stay here, in the house, forever. I miss piloting my craft. I miss the excitement, the adventure. Do you understand?”

  Of course she understood. She’d die without her writing. It was a part of her, something she had to do. And yet, as dear as her writing was to her, she sensed that flying meant even more to Micah than her writing meant to her. But there were no spaceships for him to fly here.

  Frowning, she realized there was no way he could get any kind of job without the required forms of identification—a birth certificate, a driver’s license, a high school diploma, a social security number. Some jobs required applicants to be fingerprinted. Did Xanthians have fingerprints? And what if a physical exam was needed?

  She groaned softly, dismayed by the seemingly endless documents Micah would need. And yet, such things couldn’t be impossible to obtain. There were lots of people who had entered the country illegally and they managed to get by. Somehow, they would find a way.

  She was still trying to come up with a solution the following morning when the doorbell rang.

  The minute she saw Frank Bergen standing on the porch, she knew trying to find a birth certificate for Micah was the least of their worries.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Miss St. John?”

  “It’s Mrs. Forrester now,” Lainey said, striving to keep her voice calm.

  Frank Bergen looked momentarily taken aback. “Married, you say?”

  “Yes.”

  Bergen glanced at his partner, Edward Falk, who looked Lainey over from head to foot, then shrugged.

  “Would you mind if we came in for a few minutes?” Bergen asked. “We have some questions we’d like to ask you.”

  Lainey hesitated only a moment, then stepped back, allowing them entrance. “Sit down, won’t you?”

  “Thank you.”

  Frank Bergen sat down on the sofa. Falk remained near the front door. Lainey had the uneasy impression he was there to keep her from running away.

  Lainey sat down in the chair across from the sofa, her hands folded in her lap. “What was it you wanted to ask me?”

  Bergen glanced at Falk, then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a fat brown envelope. Wordlessly, he handed it to Lainey.

  She stared at it for a moment before withdrawing the contents. She felt the color drain from her face as she looked at the pictures: pictures of Micah in his human form, and in his own form. Dozens of pictures: Micah, stark naked on the examining table, obviously heavily drugged; close-ups of his ears, the webbing on his hands, the blue glow that radiated from his skin, his genitals; profiles of his face.

  She gasped when she saw the first photo of herself, taken before the baby was born, her stomach huge with its burden. There were more pictures, taken while she was in labor. Lastly, there was a photo of herself holding a red-faced baby wrapped in a blue blanket.

  Bergen plucked the photos from Lainey’s hand. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

  “No. He…he took the child and left.” Lainey lifted her chin. “He said it was too dangerous here.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “He’s gone,” she said again, her shoulders shaking, “and he took my baby with him.”

  She was crying now, not because Micah was gone, but because she was afraid he would come back while Bergen was still here.

  Micah, if you can hear me, don’t come home.

  Edward Falk took a step forward and after a moment of indecision, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Lainey.

  “Thank you,” she sniffed, and blew her nose.

  “The baby,” Bergen said, leaning forward, his gray eyes burning with curiosity. “What was it like?”

  Lainey looked up at him, blinking back tears that wouldn’t seem to stop flowing. “It was a boy,” she sobbed. “A beautiful little boy.”

  “Was it…normal?”

  Lainey nodded. “Yes, perfectly.”

  “Damn! Are there more pictures of the child?”

  “No.” Lainey blinked several times. “How did you get those pictures?”

  Frank Bergen jerked as if he’d been slapped. All expression left his face as he stood up and went to stand beside his partner. “I’m afraid that’s classified information.”

  “Yes, of course,” Lainey said. “I should have known.”

  Micah, don’t come home! She screamed the words in her mind. There was only one way Bergen and Falk could have gotten those photos. They had gone to the lab. They had seen what was left of Red’s body, taken his notes, and burned the place to the ground, then come here, hoping to find Micah and the baby so they could take over where Red had left off.

  In the back of her mind, she heard Red’s voice telling her that she was going to make him rich and famous.

  “Is there anything else?”

  “Would you mind if we have a look around?” Falk asked.

  “Not at all.”

  She stayed where she was, conscious of Bergen’s scrutiny, while Falk searched the house. He would find the baby’s crib, a changing table, some clothing, but nothing else. She could easily explain that away by saying she hadn’t had the heart to get rid of the baby’s things yet. Fortunately, there was nothing of Micah’s to indicate he was an alien, only the normal male items her husband would be expected to have.

  “When will your husband be back?” Bergen asked as he entered the living room.

  “I’m not sure. He went away for the weekend. Fishing.”

  Bergen grunted softly.

  “Frank, let’s go,” Falk said. “You’re not gonna find anything.”

  Bergen nodded. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Forrester.”

  Lainey forced a smile as she walked the two men to the door, then stood on the porch, watching, as they got into a late model Ford and drove away.

  Relief washed through her, leaving her weak. Micah?

  What’s wrong?

  Nothing now, but don’t come home. Some men have been here looking for you.

  Are you all right?

  I’m fine. How’s the baby?

  Asleep for now. Where can I meet you?

  I don’t know. They might be waiting for me to leave the house so they can follow me. We’ll have to assume they know where my parents live. Where are you now?

  Parked behind the market down the street.

  Keep out of sight. I’m going to see my folks and see if we can’t think of something.

  Be careful, cominza.

  You, too. I love you.

  I love you… Micah glanced down at the baby, still sleeping peacefully in his arms. Would the child be blessed with the powers inherent in its father? Micah grunted softly, wondering if he would be able to communicate telepathically with his son, but there was no time to think about that now.

  With the baby asleep against his shoulder, he started walking down the street. He saw Lainey pull out of the driveway. A moment later, a dark blue sedan pulled away from the curb.

  * * * * *

  “We’re in trouble,” Lainey said, “and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Do you think they followed you here?” Ralph asked.

  “I know they did.” Lainey shook her head. “They don’t know the first thing about tailing a car without being seen. They’re probably parked across the street.”

  “You think so?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Only one way to find out,” Ralph said, and opening the front door, he walked down the porch steps to pick up the evening paper.

  He was back few minutes later, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You were right. There’s a dark blue sedan parked a couple of houses down. Two men inside.”

  “That’s
them.”

  “So, what are you going to do?” Dolores asked. “Micah can’t keep the baby out all night.”

  “I know. Listen, I have an idea that might work.”

  “Let’s hear it,” Ralph said.

  “Micah and I can communicate telepathically…”

  “You’re kidding!” Dolores exclaimed.

  “No. If I can decoy those men away from here, I can arrange with Micah to meet him somewhere.”

  “And then what?” Dolores asked anxiously. “You can’t hide out forever.”

  “I know.”

  “What is it, Lainey? What aren’t you saying?”

  “I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave here.”

  “Leave?” Dolores said, her face going pale at the thought. “But…but where would you go?”

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t see any other solution. Those men know who I am. They know about Micah, about the baby.” Lainey clasped her hands in her lap, fighting back the urge to cry. “They’ve got pictures of the three of us.”

  Ralph St. John swore under his breath, and then, seeing the look of anguish on his wife’s face, he sat down on the sofa beside her and took her in his arms.

  “Ralph, think of something.”

  “I’m afraid Lainey’s right, Dee,” he said, sounding older than his years.

  “I know I am,” Lainey said. “We’ll never be safe anywhere.”

  “Then where will you go?”

  “I’m not sure. Xanthia, maybe.”

  “Xanthia!” Dolores’ face paled evermore. “But we’ll never see you again. Never see the baby.”

  “I know, Mom, this isn’t easy for me, either, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  Lainey?

  I’m here.

  Is it safe for me to come there?

  No. Those men are parked down the street, waiting for you. Lainey looked at her parents, at the tears streaming down her mother’s cheeks, at the deep lines of sadness etched in her father’s face.

  “Mom, Dad, I’m so sorry, but…”

  “It’s all right, sweeting. Just tell us how we can help.”

  * * * * *

  “There she goes,” Frank Bergen said. “Try to keep a little distance between us this time.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Edward Falk muttered. “Where do you think she’s headed? Her house is in the other direction.”

  “You ask the dumbest questions,” Bergen muttered. “Where do you think she’s going?”

  “No need to be sarcastic, Frank.”

  “Then don’t ask stupid questions. She’s going to meet him, where else would she be going?”

  “But she said…”

  Frank Bergen swore softly. Falk might be one of the best UFO experts in the world, but sometimes he was dumber than dirt.

  They were on the freeway now, headed toward San Diego. Bergen settled back in his seat and lit a cigarette, happily contemplating seeing his name in the headlines when they told their story to the press. And it wouldn’t stop there. They’d do Oprah and Donahue, all the late-night talk shows, maybe even sell an exclusive interview to the Enquirer. And when they’d milked all they could out of interviews and personal appearances, he’d publish a book based on his own observations, along with the photos and notes that Red had collected.

  Bergen grinned as he patted his coat pocket. Red’s photos were priceless, especially the ones of the alien. LeMans might have been a mean-spirited s.o.b., but he’d been thorough. He had taken full-color pictures of the alien from every conceivable angle. It was just too bad Red hadn’t taken more pictures of the baby before the alien killed him.

  Frank flipped his cigarette butt out the window. There was a fortune just waiting to be made, he thought. The woman would take them to the alien, and then they’d have them all, man, woman, and child.

  “I think we’re here.”

  Falk’s words jerked Frank out of his reverie in time to see the woman’s car pull into a hotel parking lot.

  “Park right behind her so she can’t back out, then cover the passenger side,” Frank instructed. “I’ll do the talking.”

  Frank Bergen’s heart was thudding with excitement as he jumped out of the car. It was all within his grasp, he thought exultantly, fame and fortune, his name in the scientific journals.

  He was grinning when he jerked open the passenger door.

  The woman behind the wheel looked up, a startled expression on her face. “May I help you?”

  “Who the hell are you?” Bergen demanded.

  “Mrs. Ralph St. John,” Dolores replied calmly. “Who the hell are you?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Micah was waiting for her inside the mansion. It was somehow fitting, she thought, that they would meet here, at the Grayson place, where it had all began.

  She had kissed her parents goodbye, promising to come back for a visit if at all possible, begging them not to worry, to be happy for her.

  And now she sat in front of the hearth while she nursed the baby, staring at another fire that had started as miraculously as the first one.

  “Are you sure about this, Lainey?”

  Even now, when her heart was heavy at the thought of never seeing her parents again, his voice had the power to ease her heartache.

  “Lainey?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Micah crossed the short distance between them and knelt before her. “If I left, you and your family could move away from here.” He swallowed hard, unable to envision of a life without her. Without his son. “You could make a new life for yourself.”

  “Micah…”

  “I only want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy. With you.”

  He took her hand in his and placed them palm to palm. So alike, he thought. Four fingers and a thumb, fingernails, the ability to hold, to hurt. To heal.

  So alike, and yet so different. He stared at the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, at the color of his skin, so much darker than hers.

  “Lainey, we may never be able to come back here.”

  She swallowed hard. “I know.”

  He gazed deep into her eyes, wondering how he could ask her to leave everything she knew—her home, her family, her country—to face an uncertain future with a man who had no home, no family.

  “I love you, Micah,” Lainey said, her voice caressing him. “I’ll miss my folks, and I hope we can come back some time and visit, but if we can’t, I’ll accept it because I love you. Because my place…” She glanced down at the baby, asleep at her breast. “Our place, is with you.”

  Micah nodded and then, because he couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat, he bent forward and kissed her, knowing she would be able to feel the love that welled in his heart, a love deeper than words could ever express.

  “It’s time,” he said. Rising to his feet, he extinguished the fire, then helped Lainey to her feet.

  Her heart was pounding with trepidation and excitement as she watched Micah unearth the remote, and then they were walking down the hill. Lainey was trembling when they reached the place where Micah’s ship waited. She had always hated flying, and now she was about to climb aboard a spaceship. The mere thought made her heart beat faster.

  Micah deactivated the molecular mask and she watched in open-mouthed wonder as the spacecraft materialized before her eyes. It didn’t look like a saucer at all, she thought, more like a sleek, silver-hued bird of prey.

  Micah flicked a switch. The hatch opened, revealing a ladder and the dark interior of the ship.

  Lainey licked lips gone suddenly dry. A spaceship. This wasn’t a dream. It was real.

  She couldn’t do it, she thought, distraught. She couldn’t climb on board that thing and just fly off into the unknown. She couldn’t leave her parents, her friends, everything that was familiar. She just couldn’t.

  She looked at Micah. How could she tell him she had changed her mind, that, as much as she loved him, she simply didn’t have as much courage as sh
e thought, that she couldn’t go with him.

  And then she saw the sadness in his eyes and knew she didn’t have to say a word.

  “I’m sorry.” Tears flooded her eyes, and she wondered how she would ever learn to live with the awful pain she saw reflected in the depths of Micah’s eyes, pain that she had caused him.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “So sorry.”

  “It’s all right, Lainey,” Micah said quietly. “I understand.”

  He inclined his head toward the baby. “May I?”

  Feeling as though her heart was being torn in half, Lainey handed the baby to Micah, her tears coming harder and faster as Micah cradled the infant in his arms. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he gazed down at his son.

  Tenderly, he caressed the baby’s downy cheek, pressed a kiss to the top of its head, lightly stroked the fragile webbing on one tiny hand.

  “Take good care of my son,” Micah said, barely able to speak for the anguish that engulfed him. “When he’s old enough to understand, I hope you’ll tell him about me.”

  “I will. You know I will.”

  Micah hugged the baby close to his heart for a long moment and then, feeling as though his very soul was being ripped to shreds, he returned his son, the only son he would ever have, into Lainey’s keeping.

  “Farewell, cominza,” he whispered hoarsely. “Be well.”

  He kissed her then, quickly, deeply, for the last time. She saw the tears in his eyes, tears he made no effort to hide, and then he was walking away from her, and Lainey knew with sudden painful clarity that when he was gone, her only chance for lasting happiness would have gone with him.

  “Micah! Wait for me!” she cried, afraid now that he would leave her behind. “Micah, please wait!”

  She saw him hesitate, saw him turn, the hope in his silver-blue eyes almost too painful to behold, and then she was running after him, her fear of the unknown swallowed up in the thought of spending the rest of her life without him.

  “Lainey!” He caught her in his arms, careful not to crush the baby, as his tears mingled with hers. “Lainey, are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Oh, Micah, I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”