Back Home (Edited) Book 4 of the Guardians Saga

CH 2.3 Back Home

Alex squinted at the clock in disbelief. It was already eight o'clock, and Rile was still snoring softly in bed. She slid out from beneath the warm sheets, carefully so as not to disturb him, and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

When she entered the kitchen, Alex stopped short. There, hovering inches above the tile floor, was an electric blue portal that stretched up nearly to the ceiling. Its edges shimmered with light while its center swirled like a maelstrom.

"Rile! Portal!" Alex called out, careful to not move any closer.

Rile came running into the kitchen with both packs filled with supplies slung over his shoulder. He tossed one to her before grabbing their swords, daggers, and staffs from the corner where they usually kept them. "Did you pack? Do you need anything else?" he asked as he looked around the room for anything they might have overlooked.

Alex smiled fondly at him. "I did pack! Grab my pillow and air mattress, please."

Rile grabbed Alex's hand and pulled him into the portal. When they emerged, Rile wrinkled his nose in displeasure as he took in the view before them - an endless expanse of dull brownish-green grass, rocks, and scraggly plants. "Ugh. Looks like Olam."

"Don't you find it homey?" Alex said, squeezing his hand for emphasis.

Rile scoffed. "Remember what I said about home? Booooring. Let's look from above. If we're lucky, we'll sight some Anolis female warriors to beat down."

"Don't get my hopes up," Alex replied.

Still holding his hand, Alex and Rile soared up in the sky. The terrain below them spanned out in a patchwork of green, but there were no tall trees—only scrub brush.

Alex circled the area lazily like an eagle as Rile peered down at the tiny figure below. Alex flew downward cautiously and landed outside of its reach before she drew her sword. Rile followed suit, turning the figure over with his foot. At the sight, Alex sank to her knees.

It was Cale.

"Beaten and left to die of dehydration. Let's fly him to the nearest source of water." Without hesitation, Rile scooped his brother into his arms while Alex lifted them both off the ground and into the air.

Now that he knew he was home, Rile oriented himself and pointed out a small creek in the valley below. They descended quickly, with Rile still cradling Cale tightly in his arms. His bare chest was sunken and pale, his breathing shallow and labored. At the creek's edge, Alex used a gentle stimulus charge laced with analgesia on Cale's body. She rubbed his chest with glowing white hands, her mind frantically willing him to life.

As soon as Cale opened his eyes, Rile gently placed his canteen to his lips. Cale drank long and deep, stopping only to breathe.

"Rile? Alex? Are you really here? Or is it a fever dream?" He asked at length.

"We're here." Alex put her hand on his cheek to reassure him that she was real and to feel if he was cold. "Keep drinking, but slowly." She held back tears, unwilling to add more distress to an already traumatic experience.

After a refill from the creek, Rile asked, "What happened? Where's Gabe?"

Cale's voice sounded raspy, and he was holding his side. There were splashes of dried blood on his tattered shirt. "He should be back at camp. I was taking the flock out this morning when I was ambushed. They beat me and left me for dead. We need to get back to Gabe."

Cale tried to stand, but was in obvious pain, so Rile supported him.

"I'm glad you're home," Cale told his younger brother.