Grounded

Chapter 36

Chapter 36

I am home. On the wall in front of me is the quilt I made, log cabin style from gray and blue scraps. It is definitely mine; I recognize the sloppy stitching in the right corner where I got lazy. I run my hand down my torso. I'm wearing my white nightgown. Reaching above my head, I smile when my fingers slap the familiar carved wood of my headboard.

"Relax, Lydia. We're home," Jeremiah says. I turn my face toward his voice. He's sitting in the chair next to my bed and by his wrecked hair and the dark circles under his eyes, I'm fairly sure he's been there for quite some time. He stands and approaches the side of the bed. Oh dear Lord! A scabbed red gash runs from the outside corner of his left eye to his jawline.

I gasp. I want to ask him what happened but my voice won't work. My throat feels dry and constricted.

"Don't try to speak," Jeremiah says. He lifts a glass of water from the nightstand and brings it to my lips, scooping one arm under my shoulders to prop me up so I can drink. I try but some of the water trickles out the corners of my mouth. "You've been out for four days."

I widen my eyes at him. It hurts. My skin is too tight and I wonder if I've been injured too. I push the sleeve of my nightgown back. My arm is covered in sores.

"Your power protected you and us." He taps the gash on his face lightly. "I was on the edge of your range but this is the worst of it. Your father wasn't hurt at all. You, on the other hand... Electroscurvy, if I remember correctly from Maxwell's briefing, although I would really rather forget."

I swallow hard and try to speak again. A muffled croak is the only sound I can produce. He raises the glass to my lips again.

"We escaped when the Liberty Party attacked. I've heard they failed, but we didn't stick around to find out the details. We used the distraction of the war to come home. No one followed us. In fact, Jacob ventured outside the wall and checked with Bradford Adams. The Green Republic thinks you died in the explosion, or at least that's what they are reporting on Channel 12 News. Your father and I are hoping Operation Source Code is on permanent hiatus. No one else knows about you, by the way. Everyone in Hemlock Hollow thinks your injuries are from the explosion."

I swallow again. My throat is beginning to loosen and I have to ask the question gnawing at me, although I'm afraid of the answer. "Korwin?"

Jeremiah rolls his eyes. He never used to do that and the cynicism in his expression throws me. "Yeah. He's alive. Actually his shield took the direct hit. We just got the fallout when the spilled fuel ignited. The street was running with it from the damaged vehicles."

I grab his wrist and shake. He knows what I want and frowns down at me.

"He's on a cot in the main room. He hasn't woken up yet."

Using his arm for leverage, I pull myself up. My head spins and my muscles ache.

Jeremiah shakes his head. "No, Lydia. You've got to stay in bed. Your father will have my hide if you hurt yourself on my watch."

I fix him with my most determined stare. "Help me."

Groaning, he pulls the quilt back and sweeps my legs over the side. I grin. He's never been able to say no to me, not since we were children. He wraps my arm around his shoulders and heaves me to a standing position. If not for his arm around my waist, I'd be on the floor. My legs are uncooperative, but he carries me into the main room, where I see Korwin.

The only time he's looked worse is when I first rescued him from CGEF. His color is barely darker than the sheet beneath him, and he has more raw, oozing sores than healthy skin. I reach for him but have to wait for Jeremiah to help me. Eventually, he sits me down on the side of the cot.

Placing my hand over Korwin's heart, I feel the familiar tug as my energy flows into him, but I have very little to give. I have to lie down across his chest I'm so weak. But face to face, I see his eyelids flutter. And a tiny spark flows back into me. It's starting. The engine that is us begins a slow churn.

I press my lips onto his and feel the give and take of the energy strengthen. Korwin's eyes open and his hand lifts to my cheek. Our connection is strong. The voltage flip-flops, trickling down my throat through our connection. I'm not sure how long this continues, I lose myself to it. But finally, the faintest blue glow ignites under his skin. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, I notice the sores on his face change. The blue glow strengthens and his flesh knits together. Amazingly my muscles loosen and contract. My skin warms.

His lips part, and in the tangle of sparks that is our connection, I nestle in, absorbing what he gives me as I give it right back. I thread my fingers into his hair. When I smell smoke, I use my newfound strength to pull back. Lip from lip. Hand from chest. Fingers from hair. We've singed the sheets. I perch next to him on the cot, fully healed.

"If we'd known you could do that, we would have put you two together sooner." Jeremiah touches the red gash on his face. "I don't suppose it will work on me?"

I shake my head. "I wish it did, but no."

"Perfect." He runs his hand through his rumpled hair and walks toward the door.

"Jeremiah?"

"I gotta go, Lydia," he says, placing a hand on the doorknob and tipping his head to the side. He glances between Korwin and me. "I'm certain you'll be fine. Clearly, you don't need my help anymore."

I try to respond but he's out the door before I have a chance. I turn back toward Korwin who looks around the room in confusion.

"Welcome to Hemlock Hollow," I say.

In response, he gives me a face-splitting grin. "I feel at home already."