Page 58 of An Alien for Her Heart
Getting off the bed, I sigh as I head toward the kitchen. Maybe a glass of water will help. Or maybe I should brew myself a cup of tea. I snort at that. I’m passing the dining room tablewhen my gaze snags on the crate of fruit still sitting there. I stare at them, a lump rising in my throat.
Varek’s thoughtfulness, his blastedkindness, makes me scowl, even as my mouth waters. It would be much easier to hate him, much easier to not be attracted to him, if he was more like an asshole I didn’t want to deal with.
Hells bells, what is wrong with you Catherine Rose Richmond? Because let’s admit it, even though I don’t want to, I am attracted to the tall alien male named Varek. I’m more than attracted to him.
I’m falling. Even though I told myself my heart would never love again.
Standing, I reach for one of the fruits that I’m just going to call a mango until corrected. It feels juicy, and the light in the cottage plays over its skin, creating a soft sheen. I lick my lips, ready to dig in after having tinned bean soup for dinner.
I move to the kitchen, finding my way now without having to look down so I don’t trip over anything, and turn on the tap. It’s a curved device with a spout and there’s a lever I have to crank to get the flow going. Took me ages to figure that out. I crank it a few times now, and there’s a soft gurgle in the depths of the pipe that soon dies a moment later. Frowning, my focus shifts from the delicious-looking fruit in my hands to the pipe. I crank it again. Nothing.
Great.
I’m no expert at plumbing, so I have no idea what’s the matter. I’ll just have to leave it till the morning or ask Varek to look at it. My heart thumps hard at just the thought of seeing him tomorrow.
My cheeks warm before my thoughts go to places I don’t want them to as I focus on the fruit again. I don’t want to risk eating it without washing it first. If I got sick because I didn’t wash a maybe-mango I’d kick myself.
So I slip my feet into the closed-toe shoes we all got as standard wear from the Restitution and I head to the door. I leave it open because, why not. I’m coming back inside just after I wash this thing.
Walking around the cottage, I look up at the dark sky and pause, a soft breath releasing from my chest. I don’t know what I’m looking for. A sign?
The well is at the back of the cottage and I reach it without trouble under the light of the stars. As I approach the structure, I squint at it. It’s not like wells back home. Instead of a circular stone wall with a bucket and rope, this well is a sleek, cylindrical tower made of a smooth, metallic material that gleams softly in the starlight. I think Xarion had it freshly installed just so I’d have running water in the house, but this was before I arrived. I only found out it was a well because I saw the Raki get water from it. A panel on the side is barely visible as I step up to the thing and I realize I should have brought some kind of light with me. It’s not just a simple push-of-a-button I thought it would be.
The panel is adorned with strange symbols and a few buttons that glow faintly. I hesitate, unsure if I should press anything without knowing what they do. For all I know, I could end up activating some kind of alien defense system or worse, break the well and lose access to water altogether.
I tap my foot, staring down at the fruit in my hand. My mouth waters again. Maybe it’s the fact the thing looks like food from home. Or maybe it’s the fact that Varek gave it to me and it’s taken me this long to enjoy it. I could wait until morning and ask him for help, but he’s already helping me so much.
No, I’ll figure this out on my own. I’m a grown woman, after all, and I’ve faced far greater challenges than operating an alien well. With renewed determination, I step closer to the panel and study the symbols as best as I can. They look like hieroglyphicsand I clench my jaw in concentrated thought. There has to be some kind of logic to them, some pattern that I can decipher.
Five, ten, maybe twenty minutes pass, and no luck. I’m about to admit my defeat when, as I’m turning back toward the house, I notice a small lever on the side of the well. I blink at it squinting in the night even though that doesn’t help me to see any better. Reaching for the thing, it’s smooth and small, hidden to the side of the panel I was mulling over, but it seems to be separate from the other controls. It’s positioned at an odd angle, almost as if it’s meant to be pulled rather than pushed. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I reach out to give it a gentle tug.
It’s sudden. I don’t think I even get to take a breath. The ground beneath my feet gives way, and before I can react, I’m falling. I go down, my head hitting something hard as the fruit tumbles from my hand. I plummet into darkness, a scream lodging in my throat. I brace myself for impact, expecting to hit hard ground, but instead, I plunge into icy water.
The shock of the cold water steals my breath away, and I struggle to orient myself in the dark, watery depths. I kick my legs, desperation pushing me to propel myself upward. I break the surface, the breaths being pulled into my lungs not feeling nearly enough to what I need. Panic surrounds me like the icy water itself as I realize the severity of my situation. I’m trapped in an alien well, with no idea how deep the water is or if there’s any way out.
Calm, Catherine. Stay calm. This is not how I want to die! Fear shoots through me. I always thought I’d go in my bed, with those I loved surrounding me. Instead, it might happen here. In the dark. In the cold.Alone. The thoughts pull me together. Force me to calm down enough that my breathing becomes a constant deep inhale and exhale that rattles my lungs. Terror fights to rise deep in my gut. I’m not the spring chicken I usedto be. I can’t tread water forever. Or until morning, when Varek arrives and will probably be able to pull me out.
Varek…
He’s going to come and find me here…if I make it…and if I don’t.
Dear God, what am I going to do? My breaths hiccup and I go under for a moment, swallowing some water that goes straight into my lungs. I surface again, coughing and choking, the hold on my panic completely gone.
I should have left the fruit and gone to bed!
Blinking, I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force some of the water away so I can see. My entire body shivers with the extent of the cold quickly seeping into my bones as I turn slowly. It doesn’t feel like I’m in a well. It feels like I’m lost in the middle of the ocean at point Nemo in the dead of night.
I reach out, heading for where I know the wall must be. That’s when I realize it’s not all complete darkness. There’s a dim light filtering through the water. My hand hits the wall and I lurch back, almost going under again. There was something soft and slippery against it. Heart thundering in my chest, desperately trying to push blood to warm my extremities, some of that warmth reaches my brain and I finally notice the faint glow emanating from the walls of the well.
Treading the water, I turn in a slow circle, more of the wall becoming visible. It’s lined with some kind of bioluminescent algae or fungi, casting an eerie blue-green light through the water. It’s not much, but it’s enough to give me a sense of my surroundings and a glimmer of hope.
I swim towards the wall again, my fingers brushing against the slimy surface as I search for any kind of handhold or crevice that I can use to pull myself up. But the walls are smooth, not to mention slippery, offering no purchase for my desperate grasp. Not only that, but I’m shivering so much that my fingerskeep slipping. The little hope I’m grasping at is slipping too and there’s a pain in my head I’m desperately trying to ignore.
“C-come on, come on, come on.” My teeth chatter as I move around the cylinder. “C-come on. S-something. S-something must be there.”
Exhaustion begins to set in, my limbs growing heavy and my breathing becoming more labored. I know I can’t keep this up forever but I thought I’d last longer. My brain might still feel like I’m in my twenties but my body doesn’t hesitate to remind me I’m not. I need help, and I need it soon.
Gathering my remaining strength, I take a deep breath and shout as loudly as I can, my voice echoing in the watery chamber. “H-Help! I’m t-trapped! Trapped in the well! P-p-please, p-please…someone…someone…”