“Night will fall in a few hours. We have to leave now,” Uncle Thom says and ignores the odd glance from our leader.
I look at Kohl and find that he’s already looking at me. He nods. “Let’s go. We need to move now,” my brother says and disregards Arundel altogether.
I’m not sure if what we’re about to do is the right decision, whether Arundel is right or not. All I know is what I saw today and how it correlated with every story I’ve been told. And that this world in which we live is more dangerous than I ever dreamed possible. Right or wrong, it’s been decided that my father, uncle and cousin, along with my brothers and I, will return to the spot where Cian was killed. We will bury the bodies of the Urthmen and hide all evidence of their vicious appearance in our section of the forest. The hope is that we make it back before the night creatures awaken. If we don’t, we will be the fresh meal upon which the beasts feast.
Chapter 3
After racing across the village square to a supply shed, I grab shovels and begin passing them out. My sister is last on the line and holds her hands out expectantly.
“C’mon, Lucas. Hurry.” My sister Ara rolls her hand forward to hurry me. Petite and with blonde, curly hair and translucent eyes in the palest shade of green, she resembles my mother more with each day that passes. Taking in the meaning of her motion—that she intends to go with us to bury the Urthmen—causes panic to halt my hands. I stare at her. Reed thin and short for her age, I have trouble accepting she’s fourteen. Even though I’m only three years older than her, she’s my baby sister. Being as small as she is doesn’t help. Regardless, she could tower over me, I’d still seek to protect her, to defend her life with my own. Though she’s had training just as I have and hunts just as I do, I can’t imagine her out with dusk looming. The threat of Night Lurkers is and always was bad enough. But now, knowing that Urthmen have ventured into the woods and deep enough to find our hunting ground, the thought of her leaving the camp ever is a terrifying notion.
I part my lips to tell her I don’t think she should go and that I’ll do everything in my power to stop her when my father states plainly, “Ara, you’re not coming.” His voice is quiet but firm and leaves no room for argument. Still, my sister tries.
“But Dad, I want to help.” She squares her shoulders and lengthens her spine.
“Look at the sky.” My father points to a sky that is powder blue and banded with wispy clouds. “We only have an hour or two.”
“That’s why you need help.” Ara leans forward and plants her hands on her hips to emphasize her point.
“I’m sorry, Ara. You’re staying here,” my father says a bit more resolutely.
Ara’s brow dips and a small crease forms at the bridge of her nose. “If I were a boy I’d be going.”
Her words, though mumbled softly, land against my father with the force of a balled fist. His head rears, an almost imperceptible movement, and his eyes widen. He’s stunned and a look of hurt flashes in his features. He closes the distance between him and my sister. Cupping her cheek in his hand he softens. “Ara, the fact that you’re a girl has nothing to with this. The fact that you’re fourteen does.” Ara starts to protest and my father continues. “You’re a better hunter at fourteen than most who are twice your age. And male! That’s why I need you here. I need to keep you safe so that everyone eats.” He winks at her and she smiles broadly. “I’m not risking you for one second.” Though I know he’s placating her in an all-out effort to protect her, there is truth to what he’s said about her hunting skills.
Ara straightens her posture. She searches his face for several beats. “Well, when we go hunting, I do bring home more animals than anyone else.” Her pride is well-earned and well-deserved. She’s an excellent hunter with a deadly shot. As if hearing my thoughts my dad says, “I’m surprised every woodland creature doesn’t run for cover when they see you coming.”
My sister’s smile sags. “Really, dad? That was a bit much. And to think, you were doing so well.” Ara shakes her head at him and makes a tsking sound. “I know I’m excellent with a bow and arrow. I stay to practice after everyone else leaves and work longer and harder because I love the sound of my arrow as it leaves my bow and the thwack of it hitting the red center of the target.” Her gaze is distant and my father looks to the sky with concern. “Go, Dad, I’m fine. I know I matter here. I get why you want me here.” She rises up onto her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. For a moment she’s silent and what she’s said sinks in. My father’s brow pleats and a small, almost sad smile curves his lips. Tipping her head to one side, Ara cups my dad’s cheek with one hand, much like he did to her seconds ago. She holds his gaze then speaks. “Be safe,” she says to just him. Then she turns and says, “Please, all of you, be safe,” before disappearing from the shed.
My father rubs his forehead briefly and closes his eyes. When he opens them, he trades glances with Uncle Thom. He nods and we file out of the shed, through the courtyard and out of the village. The gate closes behind us, the sound echoing with eerie finality. I look over my shoulder, and for a split second wonder whether I’ll ever see it again. I shake off that fear, however, and dash through the forest toward the place where the Urthmen bodies were left. No one speaks. The only sound I hear is that of my feet as they take turns hitting the earth. I’m grateful for the silence and do my best to calm the panicked tremor that hums through every cell in my body. I do not want to return to the spot where my cousin was slain. I see the location, see snippets of the entire scene, each time I blink. It’s right there. Waiting for me. I wish I could purge it from my memory. Distance myself from it somehow. But the pain is raw and fresh. And no matter how much time passes, the loss of a loved one never leaves. There will always be a hole in life where they should be. I accept this and feel the sting of tears burn my eyes the closer I draw to the place Cian was killed. As soon as I reach the spot and see the Urthmen bodies, I point to them, disgust slithering like a snake in my stomach. My father and uncle pass me and crouch beside them. They exchange furtive glances and I’m about to ask what the heck is going on when my father speaks. “Are there more?” he asks.
I nod. “One more. Follow me.” I turn on my heels and lead him to the third.”
My father looks down at the monstrous face of the dead Urthman and shakes his head. “This is much worse than I thought.”
My uncle Thom, who followed, is beside us. “It’s what I was afraid of,” he says.
“What’s worse?” I ask. “What’s worse than them being here in the forest and what happened here today?”
Both heads whip in my direction. Their grave expressions cause shame to burn a trail up my neck to my cheeks.
“You didn’t notice?” My father’s words are not insulting, rather, they’re laced with deep concern.
Maxx joins us. Kohl and Pike are right behind him. “Notice what?”
“They’re all dressed alike.” My dad looks among us.
“So?” Maxx asks.
“They’re wearing the same shirts, pants, boots, even their socks are the same.” Uncle Thom lifts a pant leg. “Same as the other two.”
“Okay, what does that mean?” Maxx folds his arms across his chest. Rust-colored lines streak his forearms, biceps and shoulders. His brother’s dried blood is a painful symbol of our loss.
“I think they’re part of some sort of military group.” My father’s gaze is pinned to the dead Urthman as he speaks. “Their presence here isn’t an accident or coincidence. They weren’t just wandering through the forest. They’re soldiers. And they’re looking for something.”
“Scouts,” Uncle Thom says the words as though he’s thinking out loud.
“Looking for us. For our village.” My father completes his brother’s thought.
Uncle Thom’s gaze locks with my father’s and a wordless exchange occurs.
“How would they know we’re here? We’ve lived in these woods forever, haven’t we?” I ask.
“For generations, yes.
And we’ve never had a threat like this.” My father looks down at the fallen Urthman with disgust. “Their appearance isn’t some random happening.” Several beats pass among us. “We need to start digging. These bodies need to be buried.”
No one bothers to agree verbally. We simply get to work. Kohl grabs the upper body of the Urthman before us and I grab his feet. Together, we carry him to where the others lay. As soon as Kohl and I place him with the others, the six of us begin digging as fast as we can.
I’m not sure how much time has passed when my gaze lifts. I see that day is quickly surrendering to dusk, and the sky is a pale shade of violet interrupted by breadths of salmon. It’s a beautiful sight. No one would argue that point. But it’s one I hope I never see again from beyond the confines of my walled village.
Seeing it makes me work faster. I wipe the sweat that drips from my brow and continue. We all do, working as hard and fast as we can until the hole is deep enough and the bodies are lowered inside. Still, we don’t stop. We scoop the loose dirt and cover the bodies until the hole is filled.
The sun is dipping dangerously low, a fact that’s not lost on anyone. Only a small section of the fiery blaze is visible and the sky deepens in color with every second that ticks by. Time is running out.
Kohl looks west, and worry unlike any other marks his face. “We need to go now,” he says tightly.
We finish burying the Urthmen by patting the dirt flat and kicking leaves and debris overtop of it. By the time the area resembles that of the rest of the forest floor, the sun has been swallowed by the horizon line and the sky is an ethereal shade of electric blue. My insides tremble from exertion, from the shock of all that I saw today, and from fear. Heart rate racing, I jump at the sound of my father’s voice when he says, “Let’s go. We need to move.” Urgency dominates his tone, causing panic to cast an icy web over my chest and prickle down the length of my limbs. “C’mon!” he nearly shouts, an act so uncharacteristic it startles my legs into motion. I take off.
I pump my arms as I run. Wind rushes in my face and is the only relief I feel from the heat of the day and the burn of my tired muscles. There’s not a part of me that doesn’t hurt. My heart is beating so fast I hear it echoing in my ears. Branches slash my arms and legs, and vines tug at my feet as I race for the shelter of home. A stitch stings my ribs and demands that I slow, but slowing is not an option. I continue, my feet pacing my heart.
The last rays of sunlight have been bled, the sun devoured by the landscape. With each increment the sky deepens in color, the likelihood of us being swarmed by a pack of ravenous night creatures increases.
Panic has me in its grips. Trees reach with darkened, skeletal arms. I’m unable to tell which limbs belong to trees and which belong to something else entirely. So much time has passed since we left. Too much time.
But I keep going. I don’t stop. None of us do. None of us can. But our village is getting closer. We’re approaching the small clearing near the outskirts of the wall. I try to run faster. Home is so close I can almost smell the mossy, piney scent that hangs heavily just beyond it, the same scent I breathe in every morning. I want to breathe it again. I want to survive this night and many after it. I don’t want to die. I don’t want anyone else to die today.
Staring straight ahead, I take several strides then suddenly the ground disappears from beneath my feet. I feel myself fall. My stomach bottoms out and all breath leaves my body as I slam my chin and chest against hard earth. Scrambling, I reach for grass, roots, rocks—anything I can find—searching desperately for something to hold on to and keep myself from falling farther into the opening. My mind races. My fingers curl around a lip of dirt, my fingernails burrowing within it as I cling for dear life. Blackness threatens beneath me. I sense danger that supersedes plummeting into the darkened ground below.
Scrambling and fighting, I grab hold of firm earth and lift one foot up onto a rock out of the hole I’m hanging in. I start to hoist myself up, pulling myself out, when something grabs my other ankle from within the gaping pit I’ve fallen and pulls.
“Help me!” I shout with every bit of air my lungs possess. My brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening, unable to take a firm hold as my body does the same.
The rest of the group rushes toward me. A large hand wraps around my wrist and pulls me forward. I look up and see Kohl then immediately Maxx is beside him grabbing my other arm. Together, they pull as hard as they can. But the grip on my leg tightens. They pull, and it pulls in return, trying to drag me back into the pit. My leg feels as if it’ll tear from its socket at my hip. The pulling on either side of my body is so intense I feel as though I’ll be torn in half. “Something has my leg!” I scream to Kohl and Maxx. I look back over my shoulder as I’m being dragged out of the deep ditch and see what holds me. A Night Lurker grips me with savage hands.
In the space of a breath I see the steel of my father’s blade glint and hear the whistle of it as it carves the air. I look down and watch as his sword connects with what looks like a hairy hand with elongated fingers and talons. He severs it at the wrist and a howl rings out instantly. Pained and rage-filled, the sound rips through the forest, clawing at my eardrums so that they feel as though they’ll bleed.
At the cry of the beast, more tear through the ether. Every hair on my body stands on end at the sound. Kohl and Maxx pull me out the rest of the way just as the beast springs from the hole I nearly fell to the bottom of. My heart races frenziedly before spluttering to a near halt and plunging to my feet when I see what had hold of me. It’s only a few paces from me and howling ferociously. Blood drips from the stump where its hand used to be, and deadly, closely set eyes glare at me. They’re an eerie, iridescent color that glows against the darkening sky. Its lethal gaze is trained on me, burning into my flesh. For a split second, I’m unsure of what I should do. With the body of a man but covered in hair and with a miniscule amount of fat coating a muscular frame and a canine face with long fangs, it’s about as frightening a creature as I’ve ever seen. I scamper to my feet, every cell in my body shrieking at once to flee. To run as far and fast as I can away from the monster before me. “Run!” I scream the obvious. My muscles twitch to life and I take off, my father, uncle, cousin and two brothers sprinting off with me. But I hear it, and many more, behind us. Realizing I won’t be able to outrun the beasts, I pull my sword from the sheath at my back.
Night creatures hunt in large packs. My father told me that long ago, before the War changed them, they were called wolves, and they used to walk on all fours, and that their bodies had been shaped differently. Now they walk on two legs. And they’re never alone.
I spin, whirling on the one that pursues me so closely I can smell its musky stench. Its glittering eyes are mesmeric, and also the reason it cannot hunt during daylight hours. They cannot handle bright light. But bright light is not a problem at the moment, and the Night Lurker’s eyes widen ever so slightly, surprised to have its prey attempt to fight. I surprise it further when I swing my blade, carving the air with speed that stuns even me. The razor-sharp tip drags across its chest, opening it. It staggers for a second, looks down at its mortal wound then bays in anguish and defeat. I almost want to cover my ears but in my periphery I see Kohl swing his mallet and blast it against another beast’s temple. Blood splatters and it yelps before collapsing in a heap. Maxx battles another while my uncle and father take down two more. But just when we think we’ve made progress, eyes dot the nearly navy sky.
In the distance, I hear a sound, a low rolling that echoes through the trees. Faint at first, it grows louder fast, and more distinct. Like innumerable hooves beating the earth beneath it, the noise thrums through me in time with my heartbeat, a pounding that sounds as though hundreds of beasts are racing toward me.
My breath catches in my chest when I see them. Dozens of menacing shapes are visible, dozens of eyes glowing hungrily. Manes of golden hair that match the paleness of their gleaming eyes billow in the breeze, and im
pressive paw-like feet with long, lethal talons tear at the ground with each stride they take, rushing toward us. They are monstrous, hideous beasts. And they are headed straight for us.
“Run!” I shout at the top of my lungs.
We take off as fast as we can and do not stop until our camp comes into sight.
“Open the gate!” I yell, but no one hears me. The gate remains shut. “Hey! Help us! Open the gate!” Pike, Kohl and Maxx scream as well while night creatures close the distance between them and us with ease.
After several tense moments, our cries are heard and the gate starts to open. I do not slow and charge straight through without regard for scrapes or bruises as soon as it parts slightly. One by one, we blaze through, my father squeezing through just as it closes. The night creatures slam headlong into it, jaws snapping and strings of saliva dripping from elongated canine teeth. I jerk backward instinctively even though I know they can’t get in. But soon, the adrenaline that propelled me forward seeps from me. I’m left panting and enervated. All of us are. We collapse to the ground in complete exhaustion. I flop backward, my eyes marveling and the navy abyss rolled out before me. It’s an infinite expanse that defies what waits beyond our wall as it glitters with small dots of pure white light. And for a fleeting moment, it even defies death and the very real possibility that the Urthmen have found us or will very soon. For a moment, I am just Lucas, a very small point of light in an infinite expanse. I savor the seconds of joy and safety I feel, for deep down in the cavernous hollows of my being, I know my time is limited.
Chapter 4
Raspy gasps sound all around me. I see my family in my periphery, see how their shoulders curl and their chests rise and fall in exhaustion. But the sounds of their labored breathing, as well as my own, are mere whispers compared to what’s going on beyond the wall. My eyes are riveted to the gate, watching as the Night Lurkers nip and gnash at it. The howls and snarls are bone chilling, the frantic sounds of fevered beasts desperate for a meal, for our blood.
Remains of Urth Page 3