Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2)

by Martucci, Jennifer

  Utter silence blankets the audience when Will stands and Throm does not. I scan hideous face after hideous face and see that each is frozen in shock. A flurry of activity nearly kicks up a sandstorm at the edge of the arena floor across from us. Within no time, doors open and a half-dozen Urthmen charge from them. They are not as big as Throm, but are covered in armor and intimidating, nevertheless.

  A stream of tears spills from each eye and down my cheeks when I look at them then to my wounds. I know we will die, that we will not overcome the odds. Still, I raise my sword. My strength is draining fast and blood seeps from my cuts.

  “I’m sorry,” I say to Will then turn to June. “I love you, June. I’m so sorry I failed you.”

  June drops her sword and runs to me. She is sobbing when she says, “Good-bye, Avery. I love you, too.”

  “Kill these humans!” the announcer who introduced Throm says. At his urging, all six of the Urthmen take off toward us.

  In my periphery, I see two Urthmen leap from the stands to the arena floor. Dread courses through my veins and pumps in time with my chaotic heartbeat. I assume the Urthmen intend to aid those headed our way, and that we will not even make it until the six advancing descend on us. They wear hooded cloaks and as they draw nearer, I see them pull their robes from their bodies then grip their chins and peel the skin from their faces. June shrieks and buries her head in my torso. My eyes dart from the pair that jumped from their seats to the others approaching. I don’t know who I should be more afraid of.

  When my gaze returns to the two who shed their cloaks, I see that what they pulled was skin, just not their own. Human faces are revealed. Both appear to be around my age. One is tall with dark skin and equally dark eyes, and the other is pale like me with sandy colored hair.

  The blonde boy pulls two objects from a leather strap at his waist as he runs toward the impending conflict. He aims both at the Urthmen. A loud popping sounds from both devices. I flinch and instinctively cover June’s head. Peeking, though, I see two of the six Urthmen fall. Elation twirls in my gut. I am glad to see them die. My eyes are pinned to the two humans that sprang from the stands. My gaze moves to the large man with the dark skin. He holds a sizable mallet. He swings it with ease and slams it into the head of another Urthman, whipping his head back with a loud snap. The blonde boy yells, “Now!” and the dark-skinned man drops the mallet and pulls out another contraption. Additional popping sounds ring out, and two more Urthmen crumple.

  Everything happens so fast. I am dizzy from blood loss and shock, from fear and adrenaline. Grotesque faces grimace all around me, a macabre sight that chills me to my bones.

  Will and I should be taking cover, but with a hostile crowd and no other way out, I doubt cover exists at this point. Instead, we huddle together, Will and I use our bodies to shield the children.

  “Are those guns?” Will shouts to me and asks.

  “I don’t know,” I answer, though it looks as if that is exactly what the one guy is using. It doesn’t seem possible that they would have guns. From what I was told, there hasn’t been a working gun in the hands of any creature for more than a hundred years.

  “Whatever it is they’re using is stopping the Urthmen,” Will replies.

  As soon as the words leave him though, the blonde boy holsters the weapons. They appear to be malfunctioning and he is forced to use two daggers he pulls from sheaths on either leg when the final Urthmen standing is upon him.

  The crowd waits with bated breath for the blonde to fall. But as soon as the Urthman is close and swings his sword, the blonde ducks. When he springs up, he rams his daggers beneath his armor and turns the blades. The dark-skinned boy with him fumbles with a device in his hands, and before long, a thunderous explosion booms and rocks the ground beneath my feet.

  “Oh gosh! What’s happening?” June screams.

  Riley is crying and Oliver’s entire body quakes. In the distance, I see that the far wall, near the place where the six Urthmen charged from, has crumbled. The outside world is visible.

  The Urthmen in the stands clamber as panic and confusion sweeps through the stadium.

  “What do we do?” Will asks.

  “We need to get out of here! Come on kids!” I grab June’s hand and look around. All I see are Urthmen clustered together and bumping into one another. Chaos has overtaken the entire arena. I look away from them and search for a way out.

  As I do, I notice the blonde boy is racing toward us. He reaches us quickly and grips my arm. “Let’s go, now! There’s no time to waste!” he shouts. He tugs me toward the gaping hole in the stadium wall. I do not know who he is or where he came from. All I know is that right now, he has a plan to get us out of the stadium in which we almost met our demise. He clutches my hand, and I let him lead me, all of us, out into the brilliant daylight.

  Chapter 11

  I struggle to run. The gash at my stomach complains at my every movement, but staying in the arena and being slaughtered by Urthmen is not an option. Instead, I cling to the hand that holds mine like a lifeline and allow myself to be led through the hole blown in the wall.

  Once outside, I am drenched in sunlight. Warm rays kiss every inch of my exposed skin and heat the clothing I wear. A cool breeze gusts and feels as if it is blowing straight through me. The effect of the conflicting sensations would be pleasant were it not for the fact that blood continues to flow from my midsection.

  I try to continue, but it is an effort. “I-I don’t know if I can keep going,” I say. My voice sounds thin; even I can hear it. It echoes how I feel.

  “Come on!” Will urges me. “Don’t give up now! We have to keep going!”

  Slightly muffled and distorted, Will’s words sound as if they are echoing from the end of a long tube. I place my hand atop the wet spot on my shirt then pull it away and look at it. My palm, along with every other finger, are coated in bright red. “Oh no,” I say and feel my legs begin to give out from beneath me.

  A dizzying rush of color, the pastel blue of the sky, the soft gold of the sunlight and the rich green of the trees in the distance, rushes at me in a kaleidoscopic jumble. I start to falter. Darkness teases in my peripheral vision and I feel myself fall. But before I hit the ground, strong arms circle my waist and grapple me, settling me to a seated position gently.

  “Whoa there, I gotcha,” a voice says. My eyelids flutter. I fight against the dark tide pulling me down, tempting me with oblivion. Between my eyelashes, I spy short hair similar in color to mine. Straight, sandy-blonde wisps with a scattering of pale streaks cover his forehead. “Come on, stay with me,” the voice echoes from nothingness, towing me toward it. “What’s your name?” it asks.

  “Avery,” I hear myself barely form the word. “M-my name’s Avery.”

  “I need you to open your eyes okay. I need you to look at me,” the voice continues.

  Frantic voices sound all around me. I am vaguely aware of a young girl crying. The voice, the soft, musical voice rings through the air and wrenches me, connecting every synapse in my brain until I realize the young girl crying is June.

  “June,” I mumble.

  “June is here,” the voice says. “And she needs you.”

  At those words, I force my eyes open. My gaze is met with a pair of brown eyes dressed with long, dark lashes.

  “Hey, welcome back,” the eyes crinkle ever so slightly at the edges. I lower my gaze and see a jovial half-smile. His expression seems absurd given the circumstances, yet I am hypnotized by it. “I’m Sully, and that’s my friend Jericho.” He thumbs over his shoulder to the tall, dark-skinned man I saw in the arena.

  “And I’m Will,” I hear Will chime in. “Now can we please get out of here?”

  “Hi Will,” Sully says, but his eyes do not leave mine. “We’ll go as soon as she’s able.”

  “There are Urthmen headed this way!” June cries out.

  “They’re out of the building, preparing to attack,” Will adds urgently.

  I know I
should look to the depraved beasts headed our way as everyone but Sully is, but I can’t. I’m incapable of looking away from him for fear I will lose what little calm I cling to.

  “Jericho,” Sully says, his eyes still locked on mine. “You ready?”

  “Yes I am,” Jericho replies, his voice so deep and rich it is mesmeric.

  I jerk slightly, ripping my eyes from Sully for a split-second and try to twist to see what Jericho is doing, but doing so causes pain so intense it knocks the air from my lungs. Confirming what I worried was true, my heart pounds and blood leaks from my wounds vigorously. My gaze returns to his face and I decide to keep them there.

  “Oh don’t worry about what he’s doing,” Sully says calmly when my body faces him once again. “He has something for the Urthmen they’ll never forget.” An edge of humor tints his words. I do not see anything funny about being pursued by Urthmen. “I’m going to lift your shirt and get a look at your wound, okay?”

  I nod in agreement and feel the wet fabric of my shirt peel away from the slash. “Ouch!” I protest.

  “Sorry,” Sully says. “Okay, it’s not too bad.” Deep golden eyebrows, gathered in concern, betray his words though. “But the bleeding needs to be stopped. You’re losing too much blood.” He lowers my shirt and trains his gaze on my face.

  “How are we going to stop the bleeding?” Will asks.

  “First, we have to get out of here,” Sully answers, and again, his eyes remain on me. “Jericho, now would be a good time.”

  At his words and at the sight of approaching Urthmen, Jericho tinkers with a square device with odd knobs. He adjusts one and a thunderous explosion rocks the ground beneath me. Sharp and quick, the deep-bass bang is immediately followed by a sound similar to heavy rainfall. Pressure builds against my eardrums. I topple over and land against Sully’s solid chest, ears ringing faintly. I stiffen and try to right myself, the vague noise in my ears only adding to an already agonizing experience.

  “I gotcha, don’t worry, Avery,” Sully says in a voice that is low, almost intimate. I don’t know why, but I am soothed by it. A hand cups my elbow, Sully’s hand, and guides it upward. “Slowly, okay. Take it slow,” he advises me.

  “Oh Avery,” June says and slides my free arm over her shoulders.

  I am flanked by June and Sully as we start moving again.

  “That should keep those cowards busy for a little while, but they will regroup soon; make no mistake about it. We need to move fast,” Jericho says.

  I strain my eyes and turn my head to see that the Urthmen who haven’t been blown to pieces are scattering from a cloud of sand and strewn debris. They run in the opposite direction, away from us. The scene is marked by chaos and confusion. A chilly, satisfied smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

  That smirk falters when Sully encourages me to walk by beginning to do so himself. Reluctantly, I look away from the mayhem and I take several clumsy steps. My strength has been sapped and searing pain ricochets from every angle. Awareness that I will not be able to continue only adds to the pain. “Go. You guys go ahead,” I urge everyone after sliding my foot forward only to experience excruciating twinges and a gush of my lifeblood seeping from the cut at my stomach. “I can’t,” I say in frustration.

  But before I can say another word, Jericho steps between Sully and I and scoops me up like a child. “You will not stay behind, Avery,” his deep voice rolls soothingly. Powerful and capable, his arms are hoops of thick steel. They hold me high off the ground and I realize he is not much smaller than the Urthman who injured me in the arena. His rich, dark skin is scarred, but his eyes, nearly the same color as his skin, are clear, pristine. They radiate a kindness and warmth that makes my own shine with tears.

  “Thank you,” I whisper and my voice cracks.

  “I’ll carry her, Jericho,” Will says. His face is etched in stone, a strange, unfamiliar expression clouding his features.

  “Uh, I think we’ll move a lot faster with him carrying her,” Sully says to Will.

  A tiny rumble of laughter resonates and seems to echo from somewhere deep inside Jericho. Will huffs and mumbles something I cannot hear. Jericho does not wait any longer or debate. He runs, his long, muscular legs covering ground quickly with their elongated stride. Over his shoulder, I see June is being carried by Sully and Riley by Will.

  We run for what seems like forever. The jarring and bumping makes blood rush from me faster, and pain unlike any I have ever felt branches from my cut. Jericho slows then stops after he crosses an expansive piece of property at the edge of which a barn sits. Sully opens a wide, wooden door and we hurry inside.

  The interior of the barn is decrepit. An entire upper level has collapsed atop stalls and cobweb covered shelves sag as if bearing the weight of heavy snow rather than silken threads.

  “Set her down over here where the light is good,” Sully says and points to a location I cannot see.

  Jericho places me on what feels like a pile of dried grass. It is stiff and prickly, but at the same time soft and comfortable.

  “All right, Avery, I’m not gonna lie, this is going to hurt.” Sully’s voice is laden with what sounds like guilt.

  “What’s going to hurt her?” Winded and flushed, Will is coated in sweat. He can barely catch his breath to speak when he appears at my side.

  “Don’t hurt my sister, please!” June joins Will and stands beside him. Her hands fly to her mouth when her eyes land on my torso. “Oh my gosh! Avery!” she gasps.

  Will’s eyes widen as well.

  “I won’t mean to hurt your sister, but I have to do something to stop the bleeding. If she keeps bleeding like she is, she’ll die.” Sully is blunt with June, a fact that makes me bristle. I do not know why. She needs to know the truth. Still, my instincts balk at his forthrightness. “Here,” he tells me and brandishes a flat stick. “Bite down on this as soon as I start. I’ll be right back.”

  Sully leaves me for a minute and meets Jericho near the barn door. They riffle through a bag until Jericho holds a tube of something and Sully holds a large, hooked needle and a spool of thread.

  The overwhelming stench of blood, my blood, smoke and rotting wood pollutes my lungs and makes me gag. Desperation and panic rise within me. I wonder what it is that Sully plans to do to me. He told me it would hurt, that I may need to bite down on a short plank of bark as a laboring woman would. Both have my heart hammering away painfully, like strikes of a sledge hammer.

  “It’s okay, Avery. Everything’s going to be fine,” Will tells me. But his words have little effect on the ice chips charging through my veins.

  June places her head on my shoulder. Rubbing her cheek against the fabric of my shirt she whispers, “Please be okay, Avery.”

  Her words wrap around me and encircle my heart, melting it. “I’ll be fine, June. Good as new.” I square my shoulders and sit up as best I can, feeling compelled to live up to her high expectations of me.

  But when Sully returns, the woozy, sick feeling returns. He holds a tubular container of liquid. “First I’m going to clean it, then I’m going to sew it up.”

  I take a breath, expelling it quickly. “Okay,” I say reluctantly.

  He hands me the stick. “I’d take this now if I were you.”

  A quick glance at Jericho reveals that his head is cocked to one side, his expression compassionate. He frowns and says, “It won’t help the pain, but it will give you control.”

  His honesty is appreciated. I slip the fat stick between my teeth and know there’s no turning back. Part of me feels foolish with my mouth wide and the stick lodged in it sideways, that is, until the first drop of liquid touches my flesh when it is applied with a white, fluffy swatch of fabric.

  The moment the wet fabric swabs my skin, a sound rips from me that I didn’t think myself capable of making. Burning, stinging pain shoots from every direction around the open cut. I cry out against the wood in my mouth, my back teeth gnashing against it. Sweat stipples my brow, yet
I am cold and my body trembles. The sting is followed by the sensation of something sharp being inserted along the edge of the wound. I inhale sharply and clench my abdominal muscles against the twinge. It continues, the torturous stab of the hooked instrument passing between the upper and lower portion, then tugging it together, closed.

  I start to feel as if I won’t be able to endure the pain any longer. I close my eyes and try to envision a peaceful, painless experience. They are few, but they exist in my memory. I draw upon them, calling to mind when June and I were at the river not long ago. She was upset because I’d unintentionally insulted her. To redeem myself and remind her that the magic of littleness was not lost on me, I began bouncing and splashing, scooping handfuls of water and slapping my palms up before the water returned to the river. When my hands collided with the water and smacked it, droplets sprayed in every direction. At first, June had rolled her eyes at my antics, but before long, she couldn’t resist and joined in. We stomped and flopped and splashed in the water until our bellies hurt from laughter. Carefree, even if just for a short time, we had fun. We got to act our ages.

  Recalling that day makes me forget the smarting around my wound. It temporarily diverts the discomfort.

  When I open my eyes, I am focused and feel as if I am better able to govern my pain.

  My gaze scans the faces in the room. Oliver looks green, as if he may vomit at any minute. I have to say, I share his feeling to some extent. Keeping my mouth partially open and grinding my molars against the wood leaves me feeling queasy in addition to the slew of other horrendous sensations I am wrestling.

  Will is beside Oliver. His suntanned skin has blanched somewhat and his arms are folded across his chest. His expression softens considerably when he catches me watching him. I quickly look away and turn my gaze to June. Sweet, innocent June’s face is puffy and pink, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. She smiles feebly as soon as she feels my eyes on her and I force one of my eyes to wink. Riley does not look much better. She alternates between sobbing and sniffling. The children have been through too much already. Seeing this only adds to their many ordeals and burdens minimally.