Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2)

by Martucci, Jennifer

  “You are,” I manage to choke out and hope I do not sound as crazy as I feel.

  “I am?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I murmur.

  I feel his chest moving against my hand, inching forward as he leans closer to me. His heart is drilling against it, almost matching the pace of mine. I blow out a thin stream of air and inhale again. My insides tremble the nearer he draws.

  My cells are firing all at once. His face is so close I can make out the sharp angle of his jaw and the soft indentation between his nose and lips. His hot breath feathers across my face for a moment, and time seems to stand still. The scent of him fills me. He smells of sweet grass and nighttime, of sweat and musk. I want him to stay as he is forever so I can breathe him in and feel his heart beating beneath my hand.

  The soft skin of his lips grazes mine as he brushes past me and presses his cheek to my cheek. I would collapse if I wasn’t already on the ground, propped up on one elbow. In fact, I still think I may faint and fall to the ground all the same.

  He whispers in my ear, “That makes me so happy.”

  The urge to grip both sides of his face and press my mouth to his overtakes me. I do not know why I feel as I do, but it frightens me. He is close, so close I can feel his pulse darting in his neck. I want to plant my lips there too. Perhaps I should. Perhaps he wants me to. I do not know what he wants. I feel my muscles begin to stiffen and I am frozen.

  He leans back at bit and is facing me, his lips so close I could touch them just by puckering slightly.

  “Avery,” he says my name with urgency I can feel, urgency I am experiencing though I don’t know why.

  My heart is hammering in my ears. I am practically panting. “Good night, Will,” I say and slip my hand from his then lower my body and roll on my side, away from him.

  Feeling as if the ground beneath me has opened, I have the sensation that I am plunging into a blackened abyss, a void from which return is impossible. I am falling. Into what, or where, I am falling I have no idea. I cover my face with both hands as unworthiness and embarrassment pull me lower.

  I hate myself for what I just did or didn’t do. I feel panicked and sad, scared and excited all at once. I hear the soft rustle of Will’s sleep sack and know that he is no longer right beside me. I would not need to hear it to be sure, though. I feel the coldness of his absence. I wrap my arms across my chest and place one hand on either shoulder, bracing myself against the chill that has seeped into my bones and causes me to shiver.

  “Good night, Avery,” Will says.

  Tears heat the backs of my eyelids. I do not know why I am crying but am powerless to stop it. I allow them to fall silently until utter exhaustion grips me and pulls me under the surface of its dark and murky waters.

  Chapter 6

  Morning light seeps between the slim cracks in the thatched roof of the hut and I realize I have slept the night through. Physically, I feel much better. My emotions are another story entirely, however. I feel anxious and annoyed, confused and gloomy in a way that goes beyond our undetermined safety and future. It runs deeper.

  This feeling is compounded when I roll over and notice that Will is gone.

  Oh no! I groan in my head. What if I’ve scared him away? What if last night, when I froze and rolled over and went to sleep, I ruined something between us? I cannot help but believe that is the case as an endless stream of worry and self-doubt carves a channel through my brain.

  I sit up slowly and scan the hut. June and Riley are still asleep. I try to stand without disturbing them, but June’s eyes pop open. She sees me standing over her and alarm creases her features.

  “What is it?” she asks. Is everything okay?” her eyes are bleary and her hair is squashed on one side.

  “I’m pretty sure everything’s okay,” I answer.

  “Where’s Will?” Riley asks in a voice thickened by sleep. She lifts her head and props herself up on one elbow.

  Their questions echo the questions swarming in my brain, yet they are asking for different reasons.

  I’ve been so consumed by self-absorbed worry that the possibility that something happened to Will did not cross my mind straightaway. It should have. Given the dangerous world we live in, that should have been my first thought, not an afterthought. All the strange stirrings and emotions rambling around inside me have clouded my judgment.

  “I don’t know,” I answer Riley honestly. “Stay here, both of you, I’ll go outside and find out where he is,” I say.

  I open the door so that just a sliver of light slips in at first then carefully peek outside. I see Will and Oliver chatting and feel as if a weight has been lifted off my chest. Will glimpses me watching him and his brother. His eyes lock on mine then lower immediately. The faintest bands of pink touch his sun kissed skin. I know I have done something wrong. But I guess a part of me knew that last night before I drifted off to sleep. I feel as if my heart is being tugged to my feet slowly, torturously, and I hope I have not created a rift that cannot be mended.

  I pull the door toward me and say a quick “good morning” to Will and Oliver then promptly inform June and Riley that the boys are okay.

  “Will’s just outside. He’s talking to Oliver,” I tell them.

  “Whew,” Riley says and flops back against her sleep sack. “Oliver was out there all night and after what happened I-I, I don’t know, I was just worried.” A crease appears between her eyebrows as they gather, just as June’s brows do when she speaks with concern.

  “You don’t have to explain,” I say to her. “I get it. And I don’t blame you one bit for worrying.” I smile at her with the same affection I smile at my sister.

  “I’m so happy they’re fine,” Riley replies with a small smile.

  I can hear the relief in her voice. I hate that her life, like ours, has been spent balancing on the tip of a razor-sharp blade where moving threatens pain identical to remaining still. No matter what we do or where we go, we are always teetering on the edge of danger, of hurt. I hope to change all that. I hope to find more people like us to band together with so that we may feel a shred of safety and peace of mind. But before we can do that, before we can go anywhere, we must leave here.

  With the goal of exiting in mind, I open the door again and step outside. I clear my throat and Oliver looks at me.

  “Have any of the women been by here?” I ask either of them.

  “No,” Will answers, and does not meet my gaze.

  “Don’t be so quick to answer, my boy,” the voice of the old lady scrapes down the pathway like stones grinding against each other. Ropes of bristly hair in a shade that matches the steel of my blade billow in the breeze as she hobbles toward us. “I’m coming,” she says then mumbles, “just takes a little longer than it used to.”

  Oliver grins and laughs uncomfortably. When her voice sounds again, his laughter immediately stops and his smile withers.

  “Ah, you feel that?” she says and outstretches one arm. “That breeze, the scent on the wind, it means rain is coming.”

  “Okay,” I smile and say evenly. I feel the warmth of the sun, though it has just made its appearance, and the sky is a rich, deep blue. I do not smell rain or anything unusual in the air.

  “A rainstorm is all the more reason for you to stay,” she wheezes when finally she is standing before us. She is winded and sweat stipples her brow.

  “So I take it you’re not coming with us,” Will says.

  “No, I am not. I thought I was clear about that last night,” she adds.

  “And what about the girls that were locked up, are they coming with us?” I ask, but feel confident I already know the answer.

  “No. They’re in bad shape. One of them is with child and is so weak she can barely stand, and the others have wounds that hardly allow them to walk across a room, much less hike across the forest,” she says before adding a grumpy “harrumph.”

  “I see,” I say sadly. The horrors those poor girls have lived through will scar them lo
ng after their bodies heal.

  “Curse those men!” the old woman spits. Her small eyes are nearly black. They glisten with emotion. “But the human spirit is not easily broken. We are a strong and hearty species. What happened to them will not break them. I am living proof of that. The girls will be fine one day.”

  “Listen, uh,” I start then realize I do not even know her name. “I’m sorry. I don’t know your name,” I admit.

  “No need to be sorry, my child. My name is Mary,” she says.

  “Listen, Mary, are you sure the boy is going to do what he says he’ll do, that he’ll hunt and take care of you?”

  “Are you asking whether he is like his fathers?” she asks and cuts to the chase.

  “Well, yeah, I am,” I say.

  “Don’t worry yourself,” she assures me with the same calm confidence she spoke with the night before. “He will do right by us. And if he doesn’t,” her voice trails off and she stares into the distance briefly. “We can handle the boy ourselves,” she concludes grimly, her voice dropping an octave, and her eyes lock on mine. An unspoken message passes from her to me. I understand just what she means when she says she and the others will “handle” the boy should he attempt any of the deeds the other men carried out.

  “Are you sure?” I hesitate then ask.

  Mary chuckles. “I wouldn’t waste my time fretting about us if I were you. I’d be worrying about myself. There’s nothing out there for humans,” she levels her dark gaze at me and enunciates each word of the last sentence she spoke.

  “I believe there’s more out there than there is here. And I believe there are more humans than we think, out there, surviving,” I counter respectfully.

  “Is that what you really believe? You think there are humans out there living among the Urthmen?” she says with a frown.

  “Yes,” I reply with certainty I cannot explain. “And I aim to find as many of them as I can.”

  Before stumbling upon the compound, finding other human beings was something I only dreamed of. Then I found Will and his family. Though not all of them survived, they have been a gift, nevertheless. They made me realize I am not alone in this world with just my sister to love and protect. Will, Riley and Oliver made me want to seek out others like us. I thought that because all human beings share a common interest, namely survival, there wouldn’t be a risk. Now, however, my feelings have changed. I am wary of my own species. I am undertaking this next endeavor wiser, and far more cautiously.

  “God be with you,” Mary says. She immediately casts her eyes to the crystal-clear sky above.

  “Thank you,” I say and track her gaze. I am still unsure of to whom she speaks, but accept her well wish. I am sure June, Will, Oliver, Riley and I will need all the help we can get.

  “Be sure to eat before you go. After what you did for us, the least I can do is fill your belly before you march off to meet your maker,” she says in her gruff tone before she turns from me and begins waddling away.

  I part my lips to speak, to ask after her why she is so convinced that I will meet my demise the moment I leave the compound, but decide against it. I clamp my mouth shut and watch her go. What good would arguing with Mary do anyway? I have about as good a chance at changing her mind as she does changing mine. I agree to disagree with her and leave it at that.

  I turn to face Will and roll my eyes before shaking my head slowly. He smiles at me for a moment, a brilliant smile that touches his eyes. But all too soon, his smile falters. The corners of his mouth droop and he looks away from me as if he’s been reminded that he dislikes me. My insides wilt and I feel my own smile capsize. I realize I must speak to Will at some point today during our hike. Things cannot be tense between us. Too much is at stake, lives are at stake, and not just our own. Our sisters and his brother need us to function and interact together smoothly. Whatever happened between us last night has to be addressed, and fast.

  After I tell June and Riley that no one from the compound will be joining us on our journey, we head off as a group to the dining area. As promised, there is food for us to eat. Turkey meat, a rare treat, as well as field greens and berries, awaits us. I eat quickly while the children chat. Will is quieter than normal, a fact that makes my belly quiver and clench simultaneously. The feeling I have, the awkwardness between us, makes me understand that I can’t wait hours before Will and I discuss what happened.

  “Will, can I talk to you for a moment?” I surprise myself by saying as I stand. I begin walking toward the entryway of the dining room, to where a hallway gives way to a courtyard. I walk on legs that wobble and my hands tremble in time with them. I do not look over my shoulder to be sure he is following. I hear the sound of his footsteps behind me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t followed. I hadn’t thought that possibility through. But now that he is, I need to come up with what I will say soon or else we will just be left standing and staring at each other blankly.

  I stop abruptly and take a deep breath. “Will, we can’t be like this,” I blurt out. “You can’t be mad at me, okay?”

  He rears his head slightly and his eyes widen. I can see I’ve caught him off-guard with my candor. He composes himself instantly.

  “I’m not mad at you,” he says tightly and folds his arms across his broad chest.

  My eyes linger there, on the spot where my hand was pressed with his atop it, just above his heart, and heat blazes through my body. My mouth is suddenly dry and my throat burns.

  “Really? It feels like you are?” I say and feel like a complete fool.

  “Humph,” he says and looks away. His lips are pressed to a hard line, his beautiful, full lips that brushed mine just barely.

  My heart begins knocking against my chest so hard I wonder whether Will can see it from where he stands.

  “Come on, Will,” I say and reach out my hand. But as soon as my fingertips graze his forearm, he pulls away as if I am touching him with fire.

  I drop my hand instantly and lower my eyes in shame. “Sorry,” I say softly.

  “Don’t be. Not wanting to kiss me last night is no big deal,” he says. His cheeks are red. “Just don’t pretend like you like me when you don’t and everything will be fine.”

  “Kiss you?” I ask in disbelief. He was trying to kiss me? Did I just hear him correctly?

  “All right, Avery! Enough! Just don’t say it. Don’t talk about it again.”

  “But Will,” I say and cannot keep myself from grinning. “I didn’t know what you were doing,” I admit. “I’ve never, you know, kissed anyone, just June, and that’s on the top of her head or forehead,” I start to ramble.

  “I haven’t either. And apparently I am so bad at it you didn’t even know what was happening when I tried.”

  “No, no, that’s not it at all. I mean, I don’t know anything about that stuff, about kissing or anything,” I say. “I know the basics and whatnot, but all the other stuff, all the knowing when something’s happening stuff is really confusing,” I admit.

  My face feels as if it is engulfed in flames. I don’t know what I am more embarrassed about, the fact that I’m so ignorant on the subject, or that I have admitted as much to him.

  “You forget, I’ve been alone with June for a long time. And before that it was just the three of us, my dad, June and I. The last time I was around a lot of humans was when I lived here when I was a little girl. Since then, I’ve had nothing to focus on but survival.”

  Will’s eyes lower to his feet. He kicks a tuft of weedy growth, working it with his foot from side to side. “Well it’s not like I have experience either,” he says in a low, mumbled voice. “I’ve met other people, other girls around my age. But I never wanted to, you know,” he allows his sentence to linger, unfinished.

  I wish he would finish. He never wanted to what? Kiss any of the girls he’d met? I want to know but do not have the courage to ask.

  My stomach is cartwheeling and I worry the food I just ate will launch at any moment. That wo
uld be brilliant, wouldn’t it? He tried to kiss me and I missed what was happening and as I try to patch things up I barf on him. That sounds like something that would happen to me at this point.

  My stomach roils anxiously, sending worry, and bile, rocketing up my esophagus.

  “Anyway,” I hear his voice and my heart stutters for several beats. I swallow hard. “Let’s just forget about it and get where we need to get,” he shrugs and says.

  But I don’t want to forget about it. I want to experience what I felt last night again.

  The churning stops, and instead of feeling like a sea amid a violent storm, my belly feels like a boulder tumbling to the ground below.

  “Okay,” I say with conviction I do not feel.

  “Okay,” he agrees and smiles. His smile does not reach his eyes. He starts to walk back toward the dining area then pauses and turns. He looks at me as if he wants to say something, but turns away from me quickly.

  I am left standing there for a moment. My hand moves to my chest and clenches the strange ache there. I breathe against the hollow sting until I am confident I will not cry. There are enough things in this life to cry about; kissing boys should not be one of them. I roll my shoulders back and make my way back to June, Riley, Oliver and Will.

  Everyone has finished eating and is ready to leave when I return. We say our good-byes to Mary and the other women who come to see us off. We head back into the forest and leave the compound, and all that occurred within its walls, in the past.