Remains of Urth

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Remains of Urth Page 10

by Jennifer Martucci


  “I told you, they’ll never believe us. They’d never believe an Urthman would sink low enough to lie down with a species as low as a human. We’re beneath them. They’d just as soon lie down with a boar before us.” She snickers bitterly.

  “Yeah, we’re beneath them,” I scoff. “They have no clue what they are. They’re mutated versions of us, the messed up, monstrous version of the species who should be ruling the planet.”

  Reyna regards me curiously. “What’re you talking about?”

  I match her expression, wondering what she doesn’t understand. “You don’t know how they came to be, why they rule the world?”

  “No, it’s always been this way. They’re the rulers of the planet and we’re the lesser species,” she says with sincerity.

  “That’s not true,” I counter without delay.

  “That’s all I’ve been told my whole life.” She draws her head back ever so slightly and her eyes widen. And there I see it: the thread of softness she tries so vehemently to hide, the sliver of softness that balances the indomitable strength she possesses. I resist the urge to reach out and touch her hand for fear not that she’ll recoil hers, but that she’ll remove mine at the wrist.

  “Hundreds of years ago, there weren’t any Urthmen, only humans,” I start. I tell her the whole story, everything I know and have been told through the years. She listens, rapt, and stops me intermittently to ask questions. When finally I finish, she stares at me unflinchingly for several seconds.

  “So this,” she splays her arms out at her sides. “This is all ours? This is our world?”

  “Yes, it is,” I reply. “Or was.”

  Her gaze lowers to her lap then moves from left to right. She looks up and her eyes lock on mine. Pure determination radiates from them. “Then we need to take it back.” Her voice echoes with rawness, with purpose.

  A wash of goosebumps dots my flesh and a chill traces up my spine at her words. Though they are the content of dreams, impossible to achieve, I want to figure out a way to at least try, so if I surrender my life it will be for something.

  Chapter 10

  Shafts of light carve the gloom of the cell. They filter through cracks in the boards that cover the window. Too weak to be from the midday sun, they have an ethereal blue tint. Judging from the color and the fact that every muscle in my body screams with exhaustion, I assume day is just breaking. I yawn and arch my back. My spine complains, but my gaze never wavers from the window. It is fixed there as thoughts of what lies on the other side of it prickles, moving through my brain like a burr.

  High and rectangular, the window is narrow, but not too narrow for someone my size to pass through were it not for the evenly-spaced, metal bars in place. After what transpired last night, the notion of risking escape sounds better with each second that ticks by. As much as I’d love nothing more than to hatch a plan of escape, a glance at my brothers and sister snaps my thoughts back into place. I couldn’t risk their lives, though after what I witnessed and learned of, I know for certain Ara is in danger. My gaze settles on her for a moment. On her back and with her eyes closed, she sleeps peacefully. Her features are smooth. She looks younger than her fourteen years. Somehow that observation spawns even more anger within me.

  “You okay?” My brother’s deep voice echoes quietly. My head swivels toward him. His eyes lock with mine and immediately his eyebrows gather in concern. “What is it?” He raises himself up onto his elbows. I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair. “You don’t look well. Did you sleep at all?” He reads my features and they reveal all.

  “I slept for a short while.” I inhale deeply, and for a split second contemplate not telling him. He doesn’t need more worry, and he certainly doesn’t need further reason to fight. Withholding what I know from Kohl is a fleeting thought. Ara is our little sister. Either Kohl, Pike or I would lay down our lives for her without thought or question. She’s the last living female in our family. I would be livid if Kohl withheld that information from me. “One of the Urthmen guards that brought us here went into the girls’ cell and took one away,” I start.

  “What?” Kohl sits up. His brow dips low and his eyes narrow. “What for?”

  “He uses them,” I spit the words through clenched teeth and hold his gaze. Recognition registers in his features. “Ara isn’t safe.” Hearing myself say the words aloud causes the already sick pit in my stomach to clench violently.

  Every muscle in Kohl’s body tenses. His face turns to stone. “That isn’t going to happen.” Every word is infused with resolve.

  Cas, overhearing our conversation, rises to his feet and makes his way over. “What’s the matter with you guys? You’re just realizing what’s going to happen to that pretty little sister of yours?” he asks.

  “Shut your mouth,” Kohl growls and drills Cas with a hard look.

  Undaunted, Cas licks his lips lasciviously. “Mm, I wish I could have a run at her myself.”

  My blood boils and I spring to my feet. But before I can even consider acting, Kohl closes the distance between him and Cas. His large hands grip Cas’s throat as he drives him backward, slamming him into the bars.

  “Kohl!” I shout and rush toward the scuffle. I place my body between them and break them up, remembering the Urthman’s initial warning. “Don’t!”

  “Yeah, Kohl, listen to little brother,” he taunts then laughs. As soon as the bitter chuckle ends, his brow dips low and one side of his mouth hooks upward. “Wait ‘til a sword is in my hands.” He pauses and his upper lip stretches thin over his teeth. I’m sure he plans to continue with his attempt to get inside of Kohl’s head, but my brother interrupts him.

  “I look forward to it.” Kohl’s voice is eerily calm. It shivers with the promise of violence.

  Cas doesn’t miss a beat. “No, you won’t. I promise you that. I’m the greatest human swordsman to ever set foot in the arena. I have over two hundred kills. You won’t stand a chance against me.”

  “You’re proud of killing other humans? Your own kind?” I snap, my head whipping around to face him.

  “Aw, look, little brother is offended,” Cas mocks me. He tosses his head back arrogantly and laughs. When he stops, his expression is stony. “Of course, I’m proud. It’s the reason I wake each day. My purpose in life.” Proud of his vile statement, he drops his shoulders and puffs out his chest as far as it’ll go.

  He doesn’t expect me to retort. I see it in the slight widening of his eyes when I say, “Your purpose is to be a slave, slaying your own kind for the entertainment of Urthmen. You’re a pathetic excuse for a human.”

  If I’ve hit a nerve, Cas doesn’t reveal it to me. “Don’t worry. I’m going to kill you too. And I’ll enjoy it. Just like Krono, that mountain of an Urthman, will enjoy ravaging your sister.”

  His last sentence causes something in me to stretch so thin it snaps. Rage ignites like wildfire, burning every sense of restraint I possess in its wake. I lunge at Cas, launching my fist forward so that it connects with his jaw. His head rears as he absorbs the blow but he is unfazed. In an instant, he answers my blow with his own, hammering his fist into my stomach. Wind knocked from me, I struggle to stay on my feet. Somehow I manage and cock my balled hand to swing at him, but just before I do, a large, dark-skinned body is wedged between Cas and I.

  “Stop this now.” My heart pounds wildly and my limbs tremble. I want nothing more than to pummel Cas for his words, for what he stands for. For what he is. But Kai now stands in my way. And oddly, the timbre of Kai’s voice, richer and deeper than any man’s I’ve ever heard, calms me. He pushes us apart. “They’re coming.” He clips his chin toward the cell door. “If you’re caught again, none of us will eat today, and then you will all have a problem with me.” His words are an unveiled threat, still I feel my heart rate gradually slow. He steps away from us. Cas and I trade deadly stares. But we know Kai is right. None of us can risk the punishment we’d incur if we pummel each other.

  Within second
s, two Urthman guards arrive at the gate. The jingle of keys tinkles for a moment before the sound of a single key sliding into the lock clicks. The door creaks open and they walk in. “You there,” one points to me, “And you two,” he points to Pike and Kohl. “And the girl.” He points to Ara, who, during the scuffle between Cas and I, woke up. The blood in my veins chills several degrees and my pulse, calmer seconds earlier, begins to thud madly against the base of my throat. Are we being summoned to the arena? Are we going to die? These and too many other questions to list race through my brain on a roaring wave. “Let’s go!” one of the Urthmen says.

  “Have fun in the arena.” I look over my shoulder and see Cas smirking, pleased with his comment. I only hope he’s wrong.

  “They’re not going to the arena,” the Urthman nearest to Ara says. “We’re gonna see if we have use for any of you.”

  “Use for what?” I ask as horrific scenarios of possible uses play out in my mind.

  “Shut your mouth, human! That’s enough questions,” the Urthman by Ara barks. He then bends, grips her wrist and yanks her to her feet.

  “Hey! Get your hands off her!” I shout. The words bound from my lungs as if of their own will. They don’t stop the Urthman from handling her aggressively. To the contrary, they have the opposite effect. I watch in horror as Ara is pulled so hard she loses her footing.

  “Hey! Stop!” I can’t help but shout. I watch as Ara is dragged out into the tunnel and bound at her wrists. The Urthman with me swings his club in a tight arc, aiming its thickest portion at the back of my knees. I cry out and collapse, the sudden pain so intense I fear I’ll pass out.

  “Monsters!” I hear Kohl shout. In my periphery, I see him leap forward. He’s promptly halted by Kai’s hands.

  “No, Kohl,” is all Kai says. Two words to remind him that the consequences outweigh what little Kohl would get accomplished by attacking. Still, I understand how he feels. It’s deep-rooted instinct to protect loved ones. To fight for them. To kill for them if need be. To die for them. The last thing I want is for any of my siblings to suffer for me. I reign in the white-hot pain burning through my legs and battle the darkness teasing at the edges of my vision. I breathe deeply, filling my lungs slowly so that my belly protrudes then exhale through my lips.

  “On your feet, scum!” The Urthman who struck me jerks my arm hard, forcing me to stand on legs that threaten to fail me. “Move!” I force one foot in front of the other and manage to make it into the tunnel, where I am cuffed at my wrists and then chained to my sister. The Urthman who struck me leaves me in the tunnel and enters the cell again. When he returns, Kohl and Pike are with him, locked into irons at their wrists too. We’re connected at our cuffs and led by one Urthman in front. The other follows at the rear. Ara, Kohl, Pike and I are ushered down a long, dreary hallway lined with doors then through an equally dreary tunnel that seems never-ending and impossibly narrow.

  I feel as though the walls are closing in on me and my breathing becomes short and shallow. Just when I feel as though I may scream, the walls widen and the ceiling lifts. Gray and brown stone gives way to crisp, bright beige walls. Inviting light shines from up ahead, and an unfamiliar scent permeates the air. Intoxicating in its warmth and sweetness, my stomach contracts, a strange pang that causes my mouth to water. I continue walking, wondering what the source of the delicious aroma is and the light that appeared inviting in the distance is now upon us. No longer pleasant, it’s stark, blinding in its brightness. I realize it’s sunlight as soon as my feet hit paved ground. Eyes burning and blinking rapidly to clear the tears caused by the glare, all of the cool dankness of the tunnel is seared by dry heat. When finally I’m able to see through squinted eyes, I note that a truck awaits us. Kohl, Ara and I are thrown into the back of the vehicle, thrust into darkness once again, and transported a short distance. The heat in the compartment in which we’re stored is unbearable. Sweat gathers on my forehead and upper lip. I don’t know where we’re being taken and am sure it will not be a pleasant location, but I’m still grateful when the truck rumbles to a stop. The door opens and we’re pulled out into bright daylight a second time. As soon as my vision acclimates, I try to take in as much as I can about my surroundings. A building looms in front of me and the area looks different from the one in which we first arrived. The arena isn’t terribly far away either. The only detail I notice is that the portion of it visible from where I walk is different.

  As I attempt to get my bearings, the chain jerks from the lead. “Keep moving, scum,” the Urthman in front of me orders. My brothers and sister and I are led for several hundred feet then stop in front of a sprawling structure. Composed of gray material so pale it appears almost white in the bright daylight, two rows of windows run from left to right and are positioned at regular intervals. I guess there are two floors. The arrangement of the layout is hard to decipher. The space above the upper row is far greater than the space between the two windows or the lower window and the base of the building. I know virtually nothing about why and how such places are designed and even less about this particular one. All I can assume is that it’s run by the Urthmen, and that whatever transpires within the drab walls will be unpleasant at best.

  “What is this place?” Kohl asks as his eyes scan what’s before us. I know he doesn’t expect an answer from me. All I could possibly offer is a guess.

  Before I conjure a theory, Ara’s voice sounds. “Lucas, I’m scared.” Seafoam green eyes link with mine. I see her fear. I feel her pain. Both are palpable. My heart breaks.

  “Everything’s going to be okay.” I smile and do not believe my words for a second. Regardless, I force my smile to touch my eyes and project as much reassurance as I can muster. I’m certain it doesn’t help in the least. Golden ringlets that frame her face tremble in time with the wild pounding at the base of her throat.

  “Let’s go.” The lead Urthman has opened a wide metal door.

  “Move!” the one behind us orders.

  We’ve been ordered through passageways before. All have led to horrors of varying degrees. Will it be another arena-type setting where we’ll be expected to battle to the death with someone or something? I don’t hear the roar of a crowd, but that doesn’t mean a more subdued one doesn’t wait. Will we be led to another chamber where we’ll be detained, where girls are snatched from sleep in the night for a deviant Urthman’s perverse pleasure? I look over my shoulder at Ara. The darting in the base of her throat that causes the golden ringlets framing her face to tremble divulges that she, like I, can only imagine the potential horrors that await us beyond the steel door we’re being forced to walk through.

  Sliding one foot in front of the other, my heart pounds a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I cross the threshold. I close my eyes briefly, imagining the worst. When I open them, I’m stunned by what is all around me.

  Humans.

  Human beings surround me.

  “What the?” I mumble to myself.

  The space in front of me is large, open. Long, crisp white tables, eight in all, are to my immediate left. Humans sit in black chairs that have wheels affixed to all four legs. The legs fan out like an insect’s, dark against pristine white floors that glisten in the bright sunlight pouring in through the windows. The chairs are spaced at regular intervals, positioned behind flat-screen devices with keypads upon which humans peck away. They wear white coats over their shirts and pants. Everyone’s is the same. And no one looks up at us right away. Other than a faint hum that sizzles through the air, the room is silent. I look from face to face, studying the people working so diligently. I steal a glance at Kohl. His eyes are riveted not on the people at the moment, but on the ceiling. High overhead and mounted on long lengths of metal beams that run lengthwise up and down the vaulted ceilings are fixtures that produce artificial light. I’ve heard stories the elders in the village told about what causes artificial light to shine but never dreamed I’d live to see electricity produced and generating light. Sunlight and
firelight. That’s all I’ve ever seen. I stare in awe at all that I see. Everything looks brand new, polished to a shine so high reflections are cast in surfaces. The result it produces is an environment that has a hazy, dreamlike quality. And it appears to go on forever, or at least as far as I can see. To my right, automobiles in varying states of assembly, are being tended do. All by humans who wear white coats. I feel as though I’m inside a massive hive, where bees have been replaced by humans, a species I long thought was nearly extinct. I was wrong to some extent. I estimate at least a hundred are here in front of me, working, not looking as if they’re in danger or distress of any kind. I look left then right. My eyes land on a metal staircase. Gray and not steep, it gradually extends to a second level where even more activity takes place.

  “What is this place?” Kohl is at my side. I tear my eyes from the astounding sight before them. He takes it all in before he looks at me. All I can do is shrug in response. I’m at an utter loss for words. Urthmen are present and stationed at each exit point. But none of the humans look even remotely interested in leaving. Quite the opposite, they appear immersed in the tasks at hand.

  A thin human at the closest table looks up and acknowledges the Urthman that ushered us in. Lanky and with hair so fair it blends with his skin and small dark eyes that stand out in an otherwise blank canvas. “So, you brought more strays, did you?” The gangly male stands. Tall and slight of build, he looks to be in his mid-twenties and speaks with a voice that’s impossibly soft and calm in the presence of Urthmen. “Always bringing me more to see if any will be of use.” He makes a clucking sound with his tongue, and though his tone isn’t condescending in the least, his words are.

 

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