Alien Portals: A SciFi Alien Multiverse Romance Novel

by Ruth Anne Scott

  Seconds passed and she didn't feel the man grab onto her. Galadriel rose up and looked around the edge of the boulder. She was expecting to see the man still coming toward her, but instead he was standing in front of the boulder, his hands roaming across its surface in the same frantic exploration that she had performed only a few moments before. His eyes were locked on the surface of the boulder, scouring it intensely. Galadriel flattened one hand to the stone and used it for leverage to slowly rise to her feet, not taking her eyes away from him in case he suddenly changed his mind and came at her again.

  For several seconds, he didn't even seem like he remembered that she was there. He continued to examine the boulder ferociously, then took a step around the edge. Galadriel stepped away from him, but he continued to examine the boulder without acknowledging her. They continued this way, moving around the boulder as he searched every inch of it just as she had. As she watched him, the fear started to gradually disappear from Galadriel's mind, replaced by a sense of cautious fascination. What had at first looked like he was enraged that she was encroaching on his area and determined to remove her now looked like he felt the same level of desperation to get away from this stretch of desert that she did.

  They had moved all the way around the boulder and she was back behind it, watching him search the top and front of it again when he suddenly looked up at her. His eyes seemed to cut into her, and she could see the muscles of his jaw twitching.

  "How did you do it?" he demanded angrily.

  "What?" she asked shakily, taking a step back away from the boulder.

  "How did you do it?" he repeated. "How did you get here?"

  It was the same question that she had been asking herself, and she had as little to tell him as she had been able to tell herself. She shook her head.

  "I don't know," she said.

  "What do you mean you don't know?" he roared, taking a few aggressive steps toward her.

  Galadriel stumbled back, her bag dropping form her shoulder onto the sand at her feet.

  "I don't know," she answered again.

  "How do you not know?" he asked. "You got here. How did you do it?"

  "I told you, I don't know. I was in a cavern and I felt myself falling. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying here in the sand next to the boulder. I don't know anything other than that."

  The man's hands were pressed against the top of the boulder, and he was glaring at her again with the same aggression he had had when he first looked at her, and she felt like he was trying to look into her and drag out the information that he wanted from her. Several long, intense seconds passed, and Galadriel felt locked in place by the man's gaze. She wanted to move, to get away from him, but at the same moment it was as if he were the only other person in existence, and being near him was at least affirmation that she wasn't completely alone.

  The fire in his eyes smoldered and then increased, visibly deepening in a way that Galadriel had never seen. Right when it reached an intensity that seemed impossible, his stillness broke, and the man spun around so that he faced the hill again. Without another word, he took off running. His feet dug down into the sand and kicked waves of the fine grains up behind him. Galadriel watched him for a few moments, startled by the sudden movement. He reached the bottom of the hill and started up it, but his pace slowed until he stopped running altogether. He stood in place, and his head tilted back slowly as if he was trying to look up the hill and will himself further. His body swayed, and he tried to compensate, but it seemed that his legs were no longer under his control, and he collapsed to the ground.

  Chapter Twelve

  Galadriel gasped as the man crumpled to the sand and tumbled back the few feet that he had managed to climb up the hill. He lay at the bottom, not moving, and fear rolled over her. She rushed toward him with as much energy as she was able to muster and dropped to her knees beside him. The sound of his shallow, ragged breath coming up to her was a relief, but he was still lying with his eyes closed, not reacting to her presence. She reached for his shoulder and carefully turned him so that he lay on his back and then ran her hand along his forehead. His skin was hot and dry. As she touched him, Galadriel let her eyes wander along his face. It hit her that he was stunningly beautiful, and she felt a strange, unwelcome flutter of attraction in her belly.

  Ignoring his appeal and the unexpected reaction that she had when she looked at him, Galadriel pressed her fingertips to his throat to feel for his pulse. It was faint and ragged, confirming the severe dehydration and overheating that she suspected. She reached for the strange, thick vest that he was wearing and tried to loosen it away from his skin to help him cool off. As soon as she pulled it away from his hip, she noticed him stirring. Thinking that loosening his clothing was helping to bring him back around, Galadriel tried to push the vest further away from his hip. Her hand brushed a fabric pouch hanging from a loop on his pants. His eyes snapped open, and he pulled away from her touch, his hand smacking down on the pouch as if to cover it and protect it from her.

  "Don't touch that," he growled. "Don't ever touch that."

  "I'm sorry," Galadriel said. "You collapsed. I was just trying to help you."

  He tried to pull further away from her, but his body seemed weak.

  "I don't need your help," he said. "I'm fine."

  He started to climb to his feet, but his legs trembled, and he dropped to the sand again.

  "Of course, you don't," Galadriel said. "I can see just how fine you are."

  The man turned slowly to her, and she saw that the fire in his eyes had faded and was now more like embers, struggling to glow but too dampened.

  "How do you think that you are going to be able to help me?" he asked, his voice now low and gruff as if he were finally giving into the exhaustion that was obviously dragging on him.

  "Does it really matter?" she asked. She looked around and then back at him. "It doesn’t look like there is really anyone else around here that would be able to help you, so I'm all you have. Now, are you going to let me help you, or do you just want me to leave you here to die?"

  The words coming out of her mouth were darker and angrier than she had intended, but she couldn't stop the frustration and anger that were building in her, replacing what had been a sense of fear and helplessness. These feelings created a greater sense of power and control than the others, and Galadriel welcomed them, appreciating that she no longer felt as uncomfortable and unnerved by what she was going through. Even though she worried that those feelings would soon return, and knew that when they did she would be just as unable to confront them as she was now, it made her feel stronger, so she welcomed the intensity and allowed it to fuel her now.

  It seemed like the man held her gaze for hours before he finally gave her a nearly imperceptible nod.

  "Fine," he said, his voice still low and growling.

  "Where do you live?" she asked.

  "Why?" he asked.

  "What do you mean 'why'?" she asked, starting to feel even more frustrated by this gorgeous but aggravating man.

  "Why do you need to know where I live?" he asked.

  "How do you expect me to help you if you don't let me make sure that you are somewhere that is safe?"

  "How do you know that where I live is safe?"

  Galadriel stood and glared down at him, throwing her arms out as if to encompass the entirety of the huge desert on either side of her.

  "I know nothing about any of this, but I can only assume that if you have somewhere that isn't out in the middle of the sand and this sun, it is safer than where you are now. You are only going to get worse unless you get somewhere where you can cool off and let me check you out. But, again, if you would prefer for me to just leave you out here and let the sun bake you, I'll be happy to walk away and try to figure out where the hell I am and what I'm supposed to do by myself."

  The man's eyes narrowed as he was contemplating what she had just said, and then he pulled himself up
to a sitting position.

  "I'll show you," he said.

  "Good."

  Galadriel reached down for the man's hand to help him up out of the sand. A strange warmth spread through her as soon as his skin touched hers. It was an odd sensation, unlike anything that she had ever felt. This wasn't the warmth of attraction or even the transferred heat of the sun from the sparkling sand. Instead, it felt like the warmth had saturated his skin and was pouring into hers from his very core. She helped him to his feet and took his hand from hers as quickly as she could, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the contact.

  "Follow me," he said, and turned back toward the hill.

  "Wait," Galadriel said, remembering that she had dropped her bag to the ground while up at the boulder. She didn't know how far away they were walking, but it didn't matter. She didn't want to leave the bag and its contents behind. "I'll be right back."

  She started back toward the boulder and sensed him following behind her. She hadn't asked him to come with her and knew that he probably shouldn't be exerting the energy to follow, but there was something comforting about knowing that he was behind her. The reality of his presence was creating a confusing blend of emotions and reactions that she didn't know how to process. She was at once unnerved by something inexplicably strange and unpleasant about the man, and intrigued by him and the sense of security that she got from not being completely alone.

  They made it back to the boulder and Galadriel reached down to pick up her bag. Some of her papers had fallen out and were spread across the sand. As she crouched down to pick them up, she saw the man's eyes scanning across them, his face taut with scrutiny. She slipped them back into the bag and her fingers brushed the bottle of water that was still sitting at the bottom. Her fingers wrapped around it, and she drew it out of the bag.

  "Here," she said, holding it out to the man as she rose to standing again.

  "What?" he asked, looking at the bottle strangely as if he didn't know what it was.

  "Drink it," she said, opening the top of the bottle and handing it to him. "It's just water. You are really dehydrated. You need it."

  His eyes widened at the prospect of water, and he took the bottle from her hand eagerly. He tipped his head back and poured the water into his open mouth, guzzling it down as fast as his throat would allow. When he had drained the entire bottle, he offered it back to her.

  "Thank you," he said.

  Galadriel nodded.

  "Should we go?"

  The man turned, and they started back across the sand. The thought of going up the hill was daunting, and Galadriel didn't even know if her body was going to be able to do it again. Without the adrenaline of the fear from the first time that she had climbed the hill, she didn't know if she would even be able to gather the energy that she would need to make it back up the steep, towering incline. He glanced back over his shoulder toward her as if he knew what she was thinking.

  "Just walk in my footprints," he said. "It will be easier for you."

  Galadriel nodded and positioned herself directly behind him so that she could step directly into the deep impressions that the man's massive feet made each time that they pressed into the sand. Not having to compress the sand herself did make the walk easier, and as she focused completely on matching her feet to the marks and following closely behind him, the passage up the hill was faster and less stressful than the first time around. Soon, she found herself on top of the hill again, again staring down at the burned village. They paused there only for a few moments before starting down the other side of the hill. She stumbled and slipped, landing in a sitting position and starting to slide down the hill.

  "Watch out," she called out as she slid, trying to warn the man to get out of her way as she skidded toward him, unable to stop herself and get back to her feet.

  He turned, but didn't move out of the way in time. Galadriel tried to swerve out of his path, but couldn't move enough before catching up to him and hitting him with one foot in the back of the leg. The impact caused his leg to buckle and the man fell to his knees, immediately starting to tumble down the hill in much the same way that Galadriel had when she fell down the hill on the way back to the boulder. They landed in a heap at the bottom of the hill, and Galadriel groaned as she rolled over.

  "Are you alright?" he asked.

  "Yes," she said, pulling herself up to her feet. "I'm sorry."

  "You didn't stay in my footsteps."

  The words struck her strangely, but Galadriel didn't say anything else. They climbed to their feet and continued through the desert. The man seemed to purposely circumvent the center of the village, instead choosing to walk along the side where the buildings were sparser and there were not as many of the pieces of debris strewn across the sand. Galadriel wanted to ask where they were going. She wanted him to say something to her – to give her some idea of where they were – but he remained absolutely silent as they continued along.

  They walked beyond the village and into another empty stretch of sand. The sun was moving across the sky and was now behind her, heating up her back and casting a long shadow in front of her. Even with the sweat rolling down her spine, this was much better than having the sun so high above her like it had been when she first awoke in the desert. She expected that they would come to another village soon, but instead they just continued through the open expanse of sand, seemingly crossing the same stretch over and over again. It was only the creation of new footprints that told her that they were actually moving forward at all, and soon Galadriel found herself wondering how much further either would be able to go without any more water to sustain them.

  Finally, she saw the landscape change in front of her. Instead of the same sparkling sand stretching out in front of her in a never-ending blanket, there was a dark shape in the hazy distance. It broke the horizon and gave her a flicker of hope deep in her chest. She didn't know what she was looking at, but anything had to be better than seeing more of the same.

  As they approached, Galadriel realized that the shape was a ridge, much like the one that was at the excavation site. Without the tents, grids, and temporary shelters to create depth and add some semblance of normalcy, the stone seemed blatant and strangely out of place in the desert. They continued toward it, and Galadriel realized it looked exactly the same as the one near the original site where they had found the wall. The closer they got, the more similarities Galadriel noticed, and soon she saw the deep crack in the rock that acted as the entrance to the cavern where she had been standing when she fell, seemingly directly into the desert.

  The man walked up to the crack, and Galadriel saw that it was somewhat larger than the one in the ridge at the site, but shaped the same and in the same position on the ridge. Her heart fluttered, but the confusion racing through her mind kept her from really feeling any sort of excitement. Without introduction, the man ducked down and stepped inside the cavern. Galadriel hesitated right outside. She knew what waited just beyond that entry and didn't understand why the man would have brought her there. There wasn't space inside that cavern for him to live, unless the only thing that he did inside was curl up tightly to sleep.

  When he didn't step back out after several seconds, Galadriel took a breath and followed him inside.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The man was standing just inside the entrance to the small cavern as if waiting for Galadriel to join him. A warm glow brought Galadriel's attention to the back wall of the cavern where she saw a torch sitting in a curved holder. She looked around, scouring every inch of the cavern that she could see. It was exactly like the one at the site, and she felt her heartrate quicken. She didn’t know what this meant, but she felt closer to home than she had since finding herself in the desert.

  Galadriel turned to look at the wall that had been covered with writing, hoping that the man would be able to decipher it for her. When she saw the wall, her heart sank. It was blank. She pressed her palms flat to the surface, running
them along it frantically and trying to find the engravings that had been there.

  "What are you doing?" the man asked.

  "This is where I was," she told him. "This is the cavern that I was in before I ended up in the desert.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  Galadriel whipped around to look at him, feeling frantic.

  “I told you that I was in a cavern and that I fell and ended up in the desert near that big boulder. I had no idea how I got there. This is the cavern.”

  “It can’t be,” the man said. “No one has been in here but me.”

  “This is the cavern,” Galadriel insisted. “The entrance looks exactly like it. I was running from a security guard who I was afraid was going to catch me wandering around the excavation site, and I went into the crack in the rock. I ended up in a tiny cavern. This cavern.”

  “You aren’t making any sense.”

  His voice was getting weaker, but Galadriel was so focused on finding the engravings on the wall and figuring out where she was and how she got there that she barely noticed his body sagging and his eyes growing distant.

  “I was talking to Rick. He told me that there was a group of researchers years ago that came into this cavern and never came out. Where did they go? Where is the opening that leads out?”