"Mac!"

Laura's voice was high, terrified.

I tried to look at her, but her face blurred, then faded into a strange sort of gray whiteness that seemed endless and cold, but it wasn't any of those things, and on some level I knew it. I just didn't know what it was, and I didn't care.

I was floating now, and it was very strange to be staring down at a large man, and I knew the man was me, only he was just lying there, his eyes closed, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. Then I knew he was me because suddenly I couldn't breathe. I was dying.

Then there wasn't any more pain, just a gray-white void that didn't go anywhere. I was cold. That made sense, I was naked. I wanted covers but couldn't seem to move my arms.

I felt fingers on my forearm, soft fingers, loving fingers, fingers so gentle I wanted to see who they belonged to. It became more than that. I had to know who was touching me like that. I forced my eyes open, forced myself to look through the gray-white, to find the person whose fingers were so gentle, so tender.

I saw Jilly standing over me, looking both frightened and angry. Why would she be frightened? Or angry? It made no sense at all. I had to know. I concentrated with everything in me and whispered, "Jilly? You're all right. Thank God. I've been so worried about you. Why are we here, Jilly? Where are we?"

She just smiled down at me and lightly touched her fingertips to my cheek. "It'll be all right, Ford. Listen to me now. You're coming out of it, very soon now. No, keep your eyes open, Ford, listen to me. You mustn't drink or eat anything. Do you understand me? Don't even drink out of the tap. Nothing."

"Laura, Jilly? Where is she?"

"It will be all right, Ford. Laura's here. Get strong, Ford. Just lie still and get strong."

And then her fingers left my arm. When I looked up, she was gone. The gray-white void thickened around me until I disappeared into it, just eased into it and let it swallow me. I wondered why I wasn't cold any longer.

I opened my eyes and realized that no one was standing over me. I felt clearheaded, but so hungry I could have eaten just about anything. I shook my head. What had happened? "Laura?"

I saw her lying on her side on a folded blanket on the floor beside the bed I was lying on. She was naked, just like I was. I was down on the floor next to her in an instant, panicked. "Laura?" I lightly pressed my fingers against the pulse in her throat. It was strong and steady.

I knelt over her, wondering what the hell to do, then wondering where we were. Something was very wrong here but I just didn't get it yet. I lightly stroked my hand over her shoulder and turned her onto her back.

"Laura," I said again, and leaned down to kiss her mouth. Her lips were dry. She was so pale. "Laura," I said, and watched her eyes slowly open.

I saw the scream in her eyes and quickly pressed my palm against her mouth. "No, be quiet. I don't know what's going on here yet. Are you all right?"

She looked confused, her brows drawn together. Her long hair was in tangles around her head. "Mac," she said at last, and her voice sounded beautiful to me.

"It's all right, sweetheart. We're both alive. I just don't know where or why. Somebody stripped both of us naked."

She didn't move, didn't try to cover herself. I saw her draw in a deep breath and knew she was searching for control, for something to latch onto, something that made sense.

"I saw a man, standing behind you. He was just there, suddenly. I never heard him coming. And he sprayed something at me. Before I went out, I saw him strike you on the back of your head. I don't remember anything else. I want to get up now, Mac."

I gave her my hand. She was looking at me and I realized that I was hard again. I was embarrassed and frightened as hell. Pain was one thing, but not knowing what was real and what wasn't, that was beyond anything I'd ever experienced in my life. God, I hated it.

I turned away from her, grabbed a blanket off the bed, and wrapped it around my waist. There was only a dingy sheet for Laura. I pulled it off the small bed and handed it to her. She wrapped it around herself, tucking in the ends over her breasts.

She sat beside me on the bed. "I'm dying of thirst," she said, not looking at me but down at her bare feet.

I said without thinking, "We're not going to drink anything at all. Not even tap water." "Why?"

I turned to face her. I lifted her hand and held it between mine. She leaned forward until her cheek was touching my shoulder.

"Listen, Laura. Jilly came to see me. She's here. She seemed upset. She told me not to eat or drink anything."