“Hi Sully,” she says and peeks around me at him.
“Hey June bug,” he replies with a wink.
Pink tinges her cheeks and her smile broadens. I’m about to ask for the reason that she reacts to Sully as she does when another familiar voice calls my name.
“Avery, hey,” Will says. His arms are folded across his chest and he leans against the wall, his aquamarine gaze intense.
Each day I return from surveying the warehouse, Will looks at me harshly at first, as if I’ve betrayed him in some monumental way, then relief slowly softens him.
“Hi Will,” I reply.
He looks from me to Sully. “Hey Sully,” he says without enthusiasm. “You guys are back earlier than usual. Everything okay?”
A hint of something spikes his words, a tone that fuses suspicion and accusation.
“Yup,” Sully says with a grin.
Will glares at him with unconcealed distrust. In an effort to defuse the tension, I return my attention to June and say, “Hey, do you mind if I talk for a minute with just Will? Maybe you could keep Sully company while I do.”
Her brow creases and I feel guilty.
“I’ll be quick, I promise, and then Sully and I have something to tell everyone.”
Her eyes widen, her curiosity piqued. She thinks for a moment then answers. “Okay, but hurry up.”
“You got it,” I say and watch as she hurries to Sully’s side. He is bent over beside Jericho watching the monitors closely.
I walk over to Will and nod toward the far corner of the room. He clips his head and follows. We pass Riley and Oliver. Engaged in a chess match, a game Sully found when he took up residence in the bomb shelter, they greet me warmly.
I stop beside the cot I slept on when we first arrived.
“So,” Will starts. “How was your day with Sully?” Not bothering to mask his jealousy, he practically spits Sully’s name.
After what I saw today, and everything that will happen in the coming days, I have no patience for resentment and pettiness. Our lives are at stake, our futures, and he’s worried about Sully and me growing closer.
“Will,” I say and rub my temples. “There’s nothing going on between us. We go out, watch the warehouse and try to make a plan to get fuel. That’s it.”
“You’re together, all day, and nothing has happened? Nothing at all?” he asks doubtfully.
“No, nothing, and what does it matter to you anyway?” I snap.
Will’s head jerks back a bit. Hurt flashes in his eyes. “You know what it matters. You know I—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Will, I can’t even think of anything like that now,” I say sternly; perhaps too sternly. His brows gather in consternation. Softening my tone, I continue. “We don’t have the luxury of this,” I gesture between us, “right now. We need to get out of here and be safe before I can even think about feelings like that.”
I watch as Will’s features collapse and his bright eyes become overcast. He’s upset. It’s written all over his face. He shifts his weight from one leg to the next for several seconds then tips his chin, his expression hardening.
My stomach curls in on itself. I hate what I’ve done to him, how I’ve made his demeanor transform; how I’ve hurt him. I do feel something for him, the strange emotion that makes me restless and nervous when I’m with him. Now just isn’t the time to explore it.
“Let’s get out of here, get on the road, and then we can talk, okay?” I say and reach out a hand and place it on his forearm.
I half-expect him to snatch it away. He’d be smart to do so. But he doesn’t. He covers my hand with his and smiles. But disappointment touches his features.
I try not to dwell on it. I try to look ahead to the news I’m going to share in the coming moments, to the prospect of journeying away from where we’re at and resuming the regular threat to our existence we used to have. Not the continual target on our backs we have now.
“Come on,” I say and tug his arm. “Let’s get back to the others. Sully and I have something to share and we want to tell everyone at once.”
As soon as we step from the alcove with the cot, I see that Sully has gathered Riley, Oliver, June and Jericho. “There they are!” he says. “You two were gone so long I started to get worried.”
I want to ask what exactly he’d been worried about, what he’d been implying, but June’s voice stops me.
“I can’t wait another minute. Tell us already! Tell us your big secret,” she urges excitedly.
I feel Will standing behind me when I inhale deeply. My shoulder blade brushes against his chest. The contact makes me stiffen. I take a small step forward then I rub my hands together and say, “For starters, it’s not a big secret.” I clear my throat, nerves making me stall. “So Sully and I have a plan. We’re going in tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll get inside the warehouse and take the fuel.”
I describe the plan Sully and I have hatched in as much detail as possible. When I’ve finished, heavy silence fills the space around us. The gravity of what I’ve said, of what will happen, crystallizes fully.
June’s smile capsizes. Her exuberance is replaced with fright. She is scared, and for good reason. She moves to my side and interlaces her fingers with mine.
Will paces around our group, stopping opposite me. He watches me, his gaze keen. His brilliant blue-green eyes slice through the sallow light and shimmer with disapproval as he strokes his chin and processes all that I’ve said.
“Well, what do you think?” Sully asks finally.
Will speaks before anyone else. “I think it’s a mistake. It’s too dangerous,” he offers without hesitation.
“We are going,” I surprise myself by saying in a strong, clear voice. The words flow from me freely, authoritatively. “We need gasoline to get that camper going. The longer we stay here, the more likely it is that we’ll be discovered and caught. We go. We get the gas, and we get the heck out of here.” I leave no room for further discussion. “You,” I address Will directly, “Sully, Jericho and I will go.” Then to Oliver I say, “You’ll stay here with Riley and June.” All eyes are on me. “We get the fuel and leave as soon as we return.”
The small muscle near Will’s jaw flexes. He is gritting his teeth so hard I can practically hear the enamel of his molars crackling as they pass over one another. My eyes plead for him to understand. I try to wordlessly convey to him that I wasn’t attacking him personally, just that an opportunity exists and we need to take it. His brow is furrowed and the vulnerable look he wore when we were alone is gone. His nostrils flare and anger radiates from him.
The silent exchange occurring between us isn’t lost on Sully. He looks from Will to me, an amused impishness marking his face. My blood boils at the thought that he’s enjoying the bitterness emanating from Will. “Okay then,” he claps his hands loudly. “I guess it’s settled. Tomorrow, we’ll sack the warehouse and get ourselves some gas so we can ditch this place.”
“Tomorrow,” I swallow back the annoyance brimming inside of me then usher June toward the cot. The need to escape Will’s glower burgeons.
I know I have ruined the tenuous goodwill I’d earned after telling him I’d discuss feelings and emotions when we’re on the road. I sense I’ve wrecked everything. This is not how I’d hoped this would go. I don’t know what I expected, but am certain this was not it. The only solace I feel comes when I look at my sister. She is the force that motivates everything I do. She is the reason I wake each morning, and fight. I’ve fought for survival, and I’ll fight for her right to live, safe and free. The first step toward that will be taken tomorrow when we steal barrels of fuel from the warehouse.
Chapter 3
A bead of sweat trails between my shoulder blades and spiny barbs abrade my skin as I hide, tucked within a cluster of bushes. A part of me can’t believe I’m here, covered by the foliage that lines the perimeter of the Urthmen warehouse, ready to advance. The sun beats from overhead and I feel as if my blood is t
hrobbing against my skin so hard it is visible to the naked eye. Adrenaline and nerves have been pounding the rhythm of a war drum inside me, keeping my senses keen and my thinking sharp.
I’m unsure of how long we’ve been waiting. Arriving ahead of the earliest truck appearance Sully and I have ever witnessed, we wanted to make sure we were in place with plenty of time to spare. At the time we’d planned it, this detail seemed prudent. Now, however, waiting for what seems like an eternity seems to be working against us.
Bloodsuckers, along with a variety of other biting bugs, swarm my face. I’d love to swat them, or shake my head at the very least. Pinpricks of pain nip at my exposed arms and neck. I’m an afternoon meal as it turns out. But I must remain still and let them feast. We are too close to the gate. I don’t want to draw the attention of the four Urthmen stationed inside.
Crouching and balancing on the balls of my feet, my legs tremble from holding the same position for so long. From the corner of my eye, I see Will and Sully. Jericho is to my left. All of them are positioned the same. I wonder whether they are as uncomfortable as I am.
I shift slightly, turning my head and making brief eye contact with Will as I do.
“Ouch!” Sully hisses, leans to one side and rubs his knee. “I’m dying here.”
“I don’t know what’s worse, the thorns or the bugs,” Jericho whispers.
I reserve the long list of complaints I could contribute. Will’s disapproving gaze is enough to silence me.
“Forget the thorns and bugs!” he says in a low, disgusted voice. “This bush isn’t very dense. If one of the Urthmen looks hard enough, he’ll see us.”
“They aren’t going to look hard at this bush. Why would they?” Sully retorts in his trademark, offhanded way I’ve become accustomed to.
Will has not adapted as I have. Judging from the look on his face, he thinks Sully is being either arrogant or dismissive, or perhaps both. With his eyes narrowed, Will snaps, “And you’re so sure about this why, exactly? I mean, even an Urthman’s going to notice four idiots crouched in a bush if they look this way. They’d have to be blind not to.”
“Enough,” I say calmly as I look between both of them. “Just relax.”
Jericho chuckles at the interaction, the sound deep and rich. Unflappable, I have yet to see him lose his temper. I wish the other two would adopt his calm disposition. Lately, they always seem seconds away from erupting in an explosive argument.
A distant rumble distracts us from any fighting, both actual and potential. A vehicle is approaching. I hear the sound of tires crunching over gravel, the growl of an engine.
Separating thin branches, I peek and see a truck coming, the very truck that arrives at the warehouse every day. “They’re coming,” I tell Sully, Will and Jericho. “Everyone stay low, and stay quiet.” I shoot a look of warning to Sully then Will.
My pulse hammers against my temples. My knees complain and my sword feels like a boulder on my back. But I do not move. I barely breathe. I watch with bated breath and every muscle tenses as a rusted vehicle approaches. Faded green paint peels and dents mar the body. Oversized tires lift it high off the ground as it paws and climbs over rocky terrain once leaving the paved roadway. My insides are buzzing, vibrating so forcefully it’s difficult for me to stay still. When the truck is close enough for me to smell its foul exhaust, I feel as if I may burst. It stops a stone’s throw away, and a horn honks.
The moment in which I exist, the moment in which all of us exist, narrows to a pinhole of distinct color and sound. I notice the minutiae of the situation, the dips and dimples in the metal frame of the truck, the lumps in the paint, and the discordant blare of the horn. We are seconds away from slipping within the walls of the warehouse, and my senses are heightened, the world around me amplified.
A voice rings out, the strident tones of the Urthman guard addressing the others in the truck from the other side of the bars. Though I cannot see him, I know he’s there. I’ve watched the same routine for two weeks. He will unlock the gate and the truck will roll in. Keys jangle and metal rattles. Chatter fills the air, and I estimate that there are at least ten Urthmen in the truck.
My muscles twitch anxiously. Every part of me is ready to move, to spring from the bushes and rush onto the property. My gaze flickers to Sully, Will and Jericho. They’re poised and positioned to move at the first sign that it’s safe.
Seconds tick by and feel like hours. From a comfortable distance and through the lenses of my binoculars, the entire event occurred quicker. Crouched as I am, it seems to last forever.
Finally, iron protests ancient hinges and the gate opens. Then the vehicle’s engine thunders and it begins to move. After a few more minutes of waiting, the voices, loud and boisterous earlier, are quieted, distance muffling them.
Sully turns toward me. His eyes move among Will, Jericho and me. “They’re inside now,” he says. “Let’s move.”
As much as I want all of us to get within the walls of the warehouse and enact our plan, experience has taught me to be cautious. “Let me check first, make sure they’re in,” I say as I stand and navigate thin branches, intending to make my way toward the gate by myself to ensure that we’ve not been seen.
“No way,” Will whispers loudly. His hand grazes my upper arm as he reaches for me. “We’re all going,” he says when I look over my shoulder at him. Sully and Jericho are behind him and a satisfied smirk curves his lips. “We’re all in this together.”
“Fine,” I say. I’m not about to be baited into a battle of wills at this point. We’re too close. Too close to getting what we came here for.
I dash to the wall, pressing my back against the rough, cool stone, and take sidesteps to the gate. After a deep breath and a nod to the others, I poke my head out and peer at the property. The land leading to the building is empty. No Urthmen roam.
“All clear,” I retract my head and say. “Let’s move.”
I don’t bother to look over my shoulder. I know that Will, Sully and Jericho have heard me, and that the time to act has come. Every cell in my body hums to life, and I sprint toward the warehouse. I follow a path around the side of the building to where the sheds are. All the while, my eyes continually sweep the grounds, worrying and hoping we haven’t been spotted.
The world has fallen silent, save for the beating of my heart and the patter of footsteps behind me. On edge and anxious beyond measure, I expect at any moment to hear the cries of Urthmen, or an alarm sounding to call forth the cavalry. Luckily, I hear neither. We make it to the first shed unseen.
Standing before the ramshackle shack and panting, my eyes zero in on the large padlock attaching two metal loops on either side of the doors. The loops are attached to wooden braces, and I wonder how secure it is.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hear Will complain quietly. “We don’t have time to mess with locks,” he adds as he looks down the line of huts. All of them look as though they’ve weathered more than one war.
My mind races, I need to act fast. I quickly unsheathe my sword and slide the blade under the metal bracket that is attached to the old, worn looking wood of the shed door, trying to pry it off. The brackets do not yield despite expending every ounce of strength I possess.
Seeing my effort, Jericho outstretches a large hand. “Allow me,” he says.
I hand him my blade and he does exactly as I did. Only, with little effort, the brackets holding one side of the metal loops to the shed snap off and hang to one side.
“Wow, you’re strong,” Will says, not censoring his awe.
“Yes he is,” Sully chimes in. “But that was loud, too loud. Everybody, in the shed, quick!”
Not needing further prompting, we file into the shed. The space is small and dirty. Tools of every kind litter the small space. I’ve never seen some of them firsthand, only heard of them or seen pictures. Regardless, I can’t help but marvel how most of them would’ve come in handy when June and I shared the cave. I push the thought out
of my mind. We won’t be living in a cave ever again if the plan in progress comes to fruition.
Standing shoulder to shoulder, there’s little room to move. The air is stuffy and warm, and wedged between Will and Sully, I feel as if I may burst into flames.
“I hope no one heard us. If they did and decide to come out, they’ll see the broken latch for sure,” Will says.
“I think we’re okay,” I reply when no one else does. “If they heard us, they’d have been out already. We’d know,” I say, remembering the incident at the house when a male and female Urthman and their offspring found us in their house. Their response had been far from subtle.
“That’s right,” Sully adds. “Urthmen are not exactly known for their restraint, or their intelligence, or their looks.”
Jericho laughs softly. “That’s true.”
Pressing my lips together and bobbing my head, I say, “Can’t argue with that.”
I notice Will roll his eyes right before he wiggles and moves toward the narrow crack between the doors. A thin beam spills in from it and is the only source of light we have.
“See anything?” I ask and hope to lessen the strain between us.
“Nope,” he answers curtly.
I shrink away from him, curling my shoulders in an effort to be as far from him as possible.
I stay as I am until I hear the roar of an engine and the sound of tires passing over pebbles and grass. I lean forward and squint through the split between the doors. I see the truck passing.
“That was the truck,” I say, not knowing why I recount what they already know.
Sully yawns. “Now all we have to do is wait,” he says.
Time becomes a guessing game as I watch and wonder when the Urthmen inside the warehouse will leave. The sliver of light that enters the shed has dimmed, its color changing from pale to golden then to a warm salmon pink. The sun will set soon. The Urthmen will leave any minute.
“It’s almost time,” Sully voices my exact thoughts. “They’ll be hightailing it out of here soon, same as they always do, right Avery?”
The Underground City (Book 3): Planet Urth, no. 3 Page 3