In my periphery, I see Will’s head whipsaw from me to the tree then back to me again. He looks at me as if I do not know what I am talking about. He looks at me as if I have lost my mind. “What?” he asks incredulously. “You can’t be serious! Oh my gosh! I can’t believe this is happening! I can’t believe we listened to you and left!” He is gesturing animatedly, his words cutting me with more precision than his hands cut the atmosphere. He takes a few sharp breaths then looks at me. His expression is hard. “We cannot spend the night in a tree,” he pronounces each word slowly and deliberately.
“We don’t have another choice,” I say levelly and match his tone by enunciating each word.
“There’s got to be something other than this,” he says huffily and slices the air a final time with his hand.
“Oh yeah?” I say heatedly. “Is there really?” I feel the tension of the day spiraling tightly inside of me. “Well then, I’m all ears. I’d love to hear any and all suggestions you have.”
I plant my fisted hands squarely on my hips and glare at Will, waiting, daring him to come up with a better solution. I allow several beats before the pressure in me starts to seep. I tip my chin defiantly and purse my lips.
“Hmm, I’m still waiting,” I say and tap my foot impatiently.
I know I am being obnoxious, but Will touched a nerve, a raw nerve, when he implied that I don’t know what I’m talking about, and that it was a mistake to leave the cave. His top lip curls over his teeth and he looks as if he is about to say something. I roll my shoulders back and boldly maintain eye contact, bracing myself for what I assume will be a venomous retort. I am not about to be bullied or belittled by a boy whose life I’ve saved, or anyone else for that matter. I don’t care that his sparkling aquamarine eyes popping against his tan skin makes my insides swirl. I will not tolerate him grumbling at me or meanness of any kind.
Several seconds pass and he does not lash out at me as I expected. In fact, I am shocked when Will’s features soften. His posture relaxes and he stops glaring at me. His gaze flickers from my mouth to my eyes. I wonder why. I wonder whether one of the children is nearby and he is silently telling me to shut my mouth. I did not hear footsteps approaching.
I test my theory and part my lips to speak. He does not flinch or look as if he wishes for me to be silent so I say calmly, “I know the tree sounds like a crazy place to spend the night, but please, just trust me, okay? My father kept June and I safe the night my mother was killed by hiding out in a tree. Actually, it looked just like this one,” I say and point to the tree again.
Will nods somberly. “About what I said before,” he starts.
“You don’t have to say anything. Don’t worry about it,” I say tightly and hope he does not hear the strangling sensation I feel choking my voice. The backs of my eyelids are hot. His doubt, the thought of him regretting leaving with me, branded itself in my core before he ever spoke the words aloud. Hearing his voice actually say them only served to solidify them. It brought a fear of mine to fruition.
He holds my gaze for a moment, but I look away first. “I’ll tell June about my plan. You can tell Riley and Oliver whenever you’re ready,” I say and turn on my heels. I walk briskly to where June is seated beside Riley.
I watch as my sister rubs Riley’s arm and speaks soothingly. She is a natural-born nurturer in addition to so many other splendid things.
“June, can I borrow you for a minute?” I ask.
“Sure,” June says and reads my face. She excuses herself just as Will approaches. He sits where she sat and I gather he will tell his siblings what I intend to tell June.
“What’s up?” June asks and looks serious.
“I found a place for us to stay tonight,” I tell her.
Relief floods her features. “Really! That’s fantastic!” she exclaims. Her eyes begin sweeping the area around us. Her features wilt a bit. “Where? Where will we stay?” she asks and is clearly perplexed. “I don’t see a cave or any real shelter.”
I lick my lips and take a deep breath. “We are going to do what we did the night we left the compound, the night mom was killed,” I say.
“What? What does that mean?” June asks.
“You were too little to remember what happened or how we survived, but I do. We fled the village through an underground tunnel and found ourselves in the middle of the forest at night,” I say and try to coax a memory from her I know she does not possess.
“Okay, yeah, I vaguely remember dad mentioning it through the years, but he never wanted to talk about that night at all,” she bobs her head slowly as she speaks.
“I know,” I say solemnly. “But what we did that night saved our lives and I think it is the only option we have now to avoid being dinner for the first Lurkers that find us.”
I hear the words leave my lips. They send a shiver down my spine and conjure the sound of hissing and snarling we heard from the night before as Lurkers tried to dig their way into our cave.
June’s arms are wrapped around her waist, clutching her midsection. “So what do we do? What’s the plan?” June asks.
“We’re going to hide out up there,” I say and point to the elm tree.
“What?” she asks and her face crumples just as Will’s did moments ago.
“I know it sounds crazy, but you and dad and I never would have made it that night if we hadn’t gone up into a tree.”
June watches me warily.
“We’ll climb as high as we can and avoid the Lurkers altogether.”
“But Avery, you’re forgetting that Lurkers can climb,” June adds in a voice that trembles.
“No, I know they can climb, but why would they?” I ask and look toward the tree again. “Unless they see us going up, they’ll never know we’re there.”
June’s eyes follow my line of vision. Her lips part slightly and she expels a thin stream of breath.
“Right now, it’s our only hope. Hiding out in the tree is all we have,” I tell her honestly. “We can stay in the tree for the night then hike all day tomorrow and be out of the woods and not have to worry about Lurkers.”
“That’s right. We won’t have to worry about Lurkers anymore. The worry of Urthmen will replace it, only there is no escaping them, not even in the daylight.”
A look I have never seen haunts June’s face almost as much as her words haunt her voice. Her words crystallize my thoughts. She is right. We will not hide from Lurkers at nightfall. We will continually run from Urthmen.
“June, the woods are not safe from Urthmen anymore either. You know that. Will’s parents were just the beginning. How long do you think it would take before they found us too? No, we are not trading up one threat for another, worse one. We’re losing one of two if you ask me.”
June closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Oh my gosh,” is all she murmurs.
I reach out to her and put my hands on her shoulders. “Hey,” I say. “June, look at me.”
Her eyes open and slowly meet my gaze.
“It’s going to be okay,” I say. “I promise. We will be okay.”
Her lower lip quivers and I see unshed tears shining in her eyes. She blinks them away feverishly. “How can you be so sure?” she asks in a small voice.
“I-I can’t explain it,” I say and would rather not describe that I was thinking about our father when the idea popped into my mind and the tree came into view. Whether or not it was a coincidence does not matter. I am sure this is the only way to live through the night. “I just am,” I tell her. “It’s what dad would do if he was here, and he could survive anything.”
Tears spill over June’s lower eyelashes and stream down her cheeks. “You’re wrong. Dad survived a lot of things but he’s not here. So he could not survive everything,” she says and refers to the fact that our father is dead.
“He lived a long time. He had fifty birthdays. That’s a lot considering all the medicines that kept people alive two hundred years ago don’t exist anymore,” I try to ex
plain. But June is only eight. Her understanding of life is limited. I do not fault her for that. “Please June, just trust me, okay? Do you trust me?”
A small sob racks her body and she nods. “Yes I do,” she manages.
“Good,” I say. I draw her against my chest and hug her. I hold her tightly for several moments then gradually release her. “Now let’s go see how Oliver and Riley are taking the news,” I smile weakly and say.
I take June’s hand and lead her toward the log Will sits atop. An expression of confirmation flashes across Will’s face.
“So we’re all set here?” I ask.
“I think it’s cool,” Oliver says. “It’s a really great idea, Avery.” Despite his words, Oliver’s expression isn’t that of a wide-eyed boy, but a young man, wizened by tragedy.
“Thank you, Oliver,” I say to him. “I’m glad you’re on board.” Then to Riley, I say, “How about you, Riley? Do you think my idea is cool, too?”
Riley does not answer. She twists and buries her head in Will’s chest.
“She’s a little nervous about being up so high,” Will says and rubs his sister’s back.
Me, too, I want to say. But my fear of heights is irrelevant at this point.
“You’ll be okay,” I say to Riley. “Your brothers and I will make sure of it, won’t we guys?” I say.
“Yeah, absolutely,” Oliver puffs out his chest and adds.
“Of course,” Will says.
“So it’s settled then. Let’s hunt and eat quickly and start climbing before the sun sets.”
I hear utterances of agreement and June leaves my side. She goes to Riley. Will approaches me.
“Want to hunt together or should one of us stay here and guard the children?” he asks me.
I would like nothing more than to have him by my side at all times, but I know that it is too dangerous to leave the children unprotected.
“I’ll go ahead. You should stay here and watch over the kids.”
Perhaps the time alone will be good. Hunting comes naturally to me. I am at home in the woods stalking prey. Maybe I will gain some perspective off on my own and away from the group.
“Oh, okay,” Will says reluctantly. His shoulders hook forward ever so slightly and his gaze drops to the ground below.
If I didn’t know any better, I would think he is disappointed. I do not know for certain.
“Okay then,” I say and work a small tuft of weedy growth back and forth with my foot. “I guess I should get going. Dusk will be here soon,” I say and bring up the fast fading day.
“Yeah, you’re right. See you back here soon,” he says. One side of his mouth tilts upward; stretching his thick lips enough to make the dip beneath his nose almost disappear. I tear my eyes from his mouth and take a fleeting look at his eyes before I stalk off in search of a rabbit or some other mammal that will feed the five of us.
I am able to spear a rabbit and a squirrel for our dinner. We make a small fire and roast the meat once the animals are skinned and gutted. June extinguishes the fire with dirt and is careful to clear any evidence of our flames, just as our father taught us. With our bellies full, the time to retreat to the tree is upon us.
The sky is a faded blue, wan and pallid beside the stunning stretch of brilliant salmon that encircles the setting sun. Day has not yet surrendered to dusk and the sun is making a final appearance, blazing in its entire splendor. Though thoroughly terrifying, the sight of the setting sun is breathtakingly beautiful. I would love to stay and watch it, but more pressing matters demand my attention. We must get up into the tree before the sun disappears.
“I think Riley should go first with Oliver right behind her followed by you,” I say to Will when I realize he is standing right beside me, gaping at the sunset.
“Okay,” he says.
“Next June will go, and I will go last,” I conclude while the children speak to each other quietly.
“Okay,” he says again, his eyes fixed on the glowing sphere of orange blazing closer to the horizon line with each moment that passes.
“Okay,” I echo his word choice. “I think we should go now.”
Will turns to me. His tan skin is warmed by radiant rays of pure gold. His pale blue-green eyes are luminous and watching me intently.
I do not know what to say. All words have escaped me. He reaches out a hand and places it on my cheek lightly. His thumb strokes my cheekbone so gently it makes the fine hairs on my body rise.
I try to inhale, but my breathing snags. He is close, so close to me I can smell his skin, feel his heat. I do not know what he is doing, why he is cupping my face with one hand. All I do know is that I wish he would keep doing it, that we could stay as we are forever.
“Avery,” he says my name and my heart sets off at a gallop. He opens his mouth to speak again, but before a sound slips from him, Riley’s voice calls out.
“Will!” Riley cries. “Come on! I need you with me before we go!” she says.
His eyes leave my face slowly, along with his hand, and whatever Will was about to say remains a secret only he knows.
I inhale and exhale several times before I rejoin our group. When I do, we make our way to the elm tree. Will hoists Riley as high as he can, and as soon as her feet touch bark, she begins climbing. Oliver goes next followed by Will.
“Don’t stop until I tell you to, okay?” I say exactly what my dad said to me the night we sought refuge in a tree just like the one I stand before.
Will and his siblings agree.
“June, it’s your turn,” I say and give her a reassuring hug from behind. She pats my forearms and places one foot on a knot protruding from the trunk. She begins climbing.
After a quick scan of the surrounding woods, I trail behind her. I ask Riley and Oliver to stop once they are high in the tree branches, nearing the point where the limbs become too frail to hold the weight of a child, much less adults such as Will and me. I sit on a branch opposite Will, Riley and Oliver and watch as the sun melts into the skyline. Darkness descends quickly.
Bloodsuckers swarm my face as I clutch June’s waist with one arm and the branch of the tree I am sitting on with the other. I want nothing more than to shake my head from side to side wildly and swat the air around my face. But I cannot. I must endure the onslaught of mosquitos and allow them to feast on me. Being their human buffet table, though annoying, is a welcome alternative to being a midnight snack to a Lurker. I squeeze my eyes shut and repeat that fact in my head again and again. But when I hear the swish of grass below, they snap open. I glance beneath me, through the intricately interwoven network of branches, and see dark shadows, oily and blacker than the pitch darkness. Lurkers, I am certain, are stealing about. They slink by, prowling in the night. I hold my breath. I do not dare look down again and risk my stomach pitching before diving to my feet and silently hope they do not sense us.
When the soft sound of grass rustling passes, I fill my lungs with air and offer thanks to whatever nocturnal animal they were likely tracking. I lower my chin and peek fleetingly at the earth below before returning my gaze to June, then to Oliver and Riley. As I scan their faces, I realize that Riley has dozed off. Will’s arms are wrapped around her protectively, but his eyes are locked on my face.
In the weak light provided by innumerable stars dotting the inky-black sky and an anemic-looking not quite full moon, I can make out the lines of his face, the chiseled angles of his chin. And I feel him watching me. A slight breeze whispers through the treetop we are tucked in. My stomach sways along with the branches. Despite being completely sapped of energy and more spent that I can ever remember being, knowing that Will is watching me sends a jolt rocketing through my insides. We exchange a knowing expression that makes my scalp tighten and tingle despite my extremely uncomfortable position, and the fact that I am perched high in a tree with murderous Lurkers stalking in the vicinity.
Another breeze stirs the leaves and thin branches around us. I take a cursory glance in the distance
and see that other treetops do not move. Goose bumps prickle my arms as waves of apprehension sweep over me. The stillness all around me is unnatural compared the odd, intermittent whooshes of air that puff toward us. I look at Will. He seems to notice what I observed. He looks from the stillness beyond our tree to the wavering leaves, limbs and foliage around us. His brow furrows and I feel certain something is not right.
I am about to motion to him when a large splotchy shape streaks past us. It is so quick I almost miss it. And as it passes, it sends a small burst of air our way much like the breeze I thought I’d felt. Will’s gaze follows the greasy form as it doubles back toward us. It slips in our direction, only closer this time, and I hear the beat of wings flapping against the ether.
A gust of wind wafts in my face and I am tempted to shield myself against it, but I do not. Instead, I remain, eyes wide open, and look on in horror at the winged creature gliding toward us. Its body is easily the size of mine, only it looks nothing like a human, or anything else I’ve ever seen for that matter. Large ears prick upward, stabbing at the sky and standing at attention, while shining eyes, pitch-black and darker than the night itself, pierce the space between us. But neither its eyes nor its ears are what make the creature terrifying to behold, not even its pale, wrinkled, snout-like muzzle. The most chilling aspect of its appearance lies lower. A broad mouth is opened wide revealing razor-sharp incisors and oversized blade-like canines.
Shockwaves rip through my body and my heart feels as if it will explode.
“Oh my gosh,” I breathe as it dives toward us and emits a shriek that curdles my blood.
June startles. Her eyes snap open and she sees the winged creature. She gasps and starts to scream, but I slap my hand over her mouth and remind her where we are in a low voice. “Don’t make a sound,” I warn her. “Lurkers will hear you.”
The beast is close, its beady eyes trained on us. It caws and zips past us. I am certain it intends to circle back.
The sound and the flurry of activity will draw attention to us, Lurkers will come for sure. That is, if the creature does not attack us first. I cannot allow either to happen. I lean close to June and whisper, “Hold tight to the center of the tree. Do not let go. Do you hear me?”
Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2) Page 2