Page 70 of Holiday with the Aliens

They’d come here for water and the hope of food. The cave may have been filled with monsters, but her entire body was attuned to the water all around them. They couldn’t retreat empty handed, but they wouldn’t have a lot of time to fill up their canteens.

Stella took her steps carefully. Tripping here meant more than a twisted ankle. The ledge seemed far enough away, but as rocks slid under her feet, she pressed her back firmly against the rock wall and prayed she didn’t tumble over. She’d never been afraid of heights before, but she’d never had to climb half-blind down a damp cavern while monsters circled and nipped at the edge of her consciousness.

She’d never been more glad that Arest was with her. She sent up a little prayer to any god that was listening.Please let him be okay. Please let him win.They’d get out of this, as long as they were together.

On her new ledge, she found a stream of water trickling down the wall. She pressed her face flat against stone and opened her mouth wide, too thirsty to care that it might not be safe. The first sip went down, and she tasted minerals and grit and under that, the wet quench of water. She pulled herself back and rubbed it into her lips, her skin drinking it up like sand.

Though she wanted nothing more than to sit there all day with her mouth open and let it drip down, she forced herself to pull out one of the collapsible canteens and hold it under the trickle. Relief coursed through her when the canteen remained the same dark color that it was supposed to be. Collapsible canteens like this changed color when liquid was unsafe for consumption. But seconds ticked by and little more than a small sip filled the bottle. With a curse, Stella put the canteen to her lips and drank down the precious liquid. She needed a better source than a faint stream.

The lake beckoned, rippling and black in the dark, but too far down to be her real goal. She gave it a longing look and continued down the rock on careful feet. The trickle she’d found on the higher level was little more than a damp spot against the rock lower down, but under it a tiny puddle formed, barely bigger than a shoe print. Stella was ready to kneel and scoopup everything she could, but as she watched, the depression got smaller as water drained through an invisible hole in the ground.

She moved lower.

Yes!

Three little trickles fed into a pool no bigger than the kitchen sink in her apartment, but the water was cold and fresh and deep. She filled up the canteens and hooked them to her belt on little carabiners that were attached to the lids. She scooped up water in her hands and drank deep, letting the coolness infuse deep into her bones. She didn’t care that she’d been chilly any time she stepped away from Arest. This was a chill of refreshment. Already her mind was more focused as she took in the much-needed moisture.

The room seemed to brighten around her as her eyes started to focus, and even her hearing improved. She looked down at the pool, wondering if this was some kind of super water. But nothing about it tasted strange, and the canteen would have turned an ugly shade of yellow if the water was unsafe to drink.

Feet scuffled behind her and Stella whirled around, grabbing a rock and holding it up as she moved. But Arest stood behind her, shoulders stiff and one hand clutched at his side, covering a wound that seeped thick red blood.

He stumbled forward to his knees and fell face first in front of her.

He smelled Stella and water. No. He smelled Stella and tasted water cool against his lips and trickling in a steady stream down his throat. Fingers caressed his forehead, cold pressure on his overwarm skin. He heard a murmur, but couldn’t decipher thewords. He didn’t care so long as those fingers stayed where they were and the water kept coming.

But he breathed too deep, trying to drag in more of Stella’s intoxicating scent, and the wound at his side pulled hard, sending a lance of pain through him until he gasped.

His eyes shot open and he found himself cradled against Stella, his head in her lap as she slowly poured water into his mouth and held her bundled up shirt against his chest, pressing it there with a knee.

He tried to turn away as water splashed across his face, tried to see if any more of those creatures lurked in the shadows, but Stella’s hand was a vise against his head and he couldn’t struggle against her.

“It’s okay,” she whispered over him, gently brushing his skin and letting her fingers run over his short hair. “The wound isn’t that bad. You’re just thirsty.”

As she said it, he realized she was right. The creature had raked claws against him, taking a solid swipe at his midsection, but it was a surface wound, painful but far from fatal.

Though he’d sooner kiss one of those creatures than stop touching her, Arest forced himself to sit up. He took control of the shirt she’d used as a bandage and pulled it back to look at the wound. Just as he’d thought, ugly but mundane. He’d scar but survive.

He reached for the bag that he’d long ago slung over his shoulder and pulled it around, digging inside until his hand made contact with two energy bars. He dug further and found an old strip of cloth with some company logo on it, which he vaguely remembered seeing people use to wipe off com screens.

It wasn’t a perfect bandage, but he couldn’t let Stella walk around in the flimsy dark bra she wore. She’d freeze to death. Already her lips looked a little blue.

In another pocket he found a small bit of adhesive and used it to secure his makeshift bandage before pulling Stella completely into his arms, crushing her form close. She melted against him, wrapping an arm loosely around him and laying her head against his shoulder. When he silently offered her an energy bar, she took it and set it down in her lap.

“We’re not so bad off, a-are w-we?” she asked, stuttering out the last words as she shivered.

Arest rubbed his hands up and down her arms, trying to warm her up as best he could. He wanted to rail at her for taking off her shirt to tend to him. The wound wasn’t bad, he wanted to say. He could take much worse. She needed the warmth, she was the one who mattered. She was the one who had to get out.

But his tongue weighed too much and he could barely form half a sentence, let alone a paragraph.

He briefly let go of her and rubbed her shirt in the dust to try and soak up the blood it had taken. He didn’t want to wet it and make it unwearable. When he held it up to her, he couldn’t read her expression. She took the shirt back with gentle fingers and grimaced as her hand came away covered in dirt.

“I panicked when you fell,” she explained, grimacing. She unwrapped the energy bar and took a small bite. She leaned in against him and his hands came around her like it was the most natural thing in the world. His fingers rested idly on her stomach, expanding out and contracting in with each of her breaths. This time when she shivered, he didn’t think it had anything to do with the cold.

His own body was reacting to her proximity and her scent, injury be damned.

He forced some hard earned discipline into his mind and took a bit of the energy bar. It was ash in his mouth, but he ate with mechanical bites and drank deep of the water when he was done. Even though the bar fit in the palm of his hand withroom to spare, the gnawing hunger that had become as constant a companion as Stella began to subside and unknot.

“I’m okay,” he said, finally managing a complete sentence, even if it was short.

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