Planet Urth Boxed Set

by Jennifer Martucci

  “Who knows what else Terzini has sent out into the world? I simply will not risk your life, again.”

  “I’ll go with you, then.”

  “And what about your father, you would leave him here alone?”

  Melissa shook her head in frustration.

  “If we could tell him, explain to him what’s going on I could come with you. I could call him and check in from wherever we go.”

  “Melissa, you know we can’t tell your father about me,” Gabriel reasoned gently. “And while I’ll be able to contact you, I will not be able to disclose my exact location.”

  “Gabriel, I don’t understand. How I will ever see you again?”

  “I love you. I will find a way,” Gabriel promised his eyes stinging with emotion.

  “Please don’t leave,” Melissa begged.

  “I have to leave, at least until things die down here. I am connected to murders, murders of people who could easily be considered enemies of mine. It won’t be long before others students at school are questioned and my name comes up over and over again with Kevin and his friends.”

  “But you didn’t kill them!” Melissa protested, tears streaming anew.

  “Shh. Please don’t cry, Melissa,” Gabriel soothed, lightly touching his fingers to her soft lips. “You know that having me stay would be impossible. But I promise you, we will be together again.”

  Gabriel climbed through Melissa’s window into her bedroom and took her in his arms. He pressed his lips to hers, tenderly at first, then, with urgency.

  His heart throbbed and smarted. Their kiss was brief and bittersweet.

  Gabriel held Melissa tightly, pulled her as closely as his arms allowed. He inhaled deeply, breathing the warm vanilla, caramel and coconut scent of her hair and skin.

  Finally, with tears burning down his cheeks, Gabriel released Melissa from his grip.

  “I’ll call you in a few days, when I get where I’m going,” he said. “I love you Melissa Martin.”

  “I love you too, Gabriel,” Melissa managed through sobs.

  Gabriel climbed out of Melissa’s bedroom window and slid on his backside down the length of the frost-coated roof of the garage. He then found an abiding limb outstretched to him and grabbed it. He descended the intricately dovetailed branches of the oak shielding a large section of the house before landing atop the frost-crusted grass below.

  An unremarkable beige Toyota awaited his arrival at the bottom of the hill.

  He walked, unable to feel the earth below his feet. All he felt was pain.

  A hole had been punched in his heart. A vacuous space, raw and ragged, ached. Each breath that he took hurt more than the last.

  The crisp autumn air offered no reprieve. It did nothing to ease the burning pain that etched at him.

  Though the notion offered little hope, he knew that someday he would be whole again. He did not know how. He did not know when. Everything, save for the agony he felt, seemed unclear, uncertain.

  As he strode down Blackstone Drive, Gabriel was certain of one thing and one thing only: as long as his heart beat in his chest, he would return to Melissa.

  About the Authors

  Jennifer and Christopher Martucci hoped that their life plan had changed radically in early 2010. To date, the jury is still out. But late one night, in January of 2010, the stay-at-home mom of three girls under the age of six had just picked up the last doll from the playroom floor and placed it in a bin when her husband startled her by declaring, “We should write a book, together!” Wearied from a day of shuttling the children to and from school, preschool and Daisy Scouts, laundry, cooking and cleaning, Jennifer simply stared blankly at her husband of fifteen years. After all, the idea of writing a book had been an individual dream each of them had possessed for much of their young adult lives. Both had written separately in their teens and early twenties, but without much success. They would write a dozen chapters here and there only to find that either the plot would fall apart, or characters would lose their zest, or the story would just fall flat. Christopher had always preferred penning science-fiction stories filled with monsters and diabolical villains, while Jennifer had favored venting personal experiences or writing about romance. Inevitably though, frustration and day-to-day life had placed writing on the back burner and for several years, each had pursued alternate (paying) careers. But the dream had never died. And Christopher suggested that their dream ought to be removed from the back burner for further examination. When he proposed that they author a book together on that cold January night, Jennifer was hesitant to reject the idea outright. His proposal sparked a discussion, and the discussion lasted deep into the night. By morning, the idea for the Dark Creations series was born.

  The Dark Creations series, as well as the Arianna Rose, the Planet Urth series and the Hunter of the Light series, are works that were written while Jennifer and Christopher continued about with their daily activities and raised their young children. They changed diapers, potty trained and went to story time at the local library between chapter outlines and served as room parents while fleshing out each section. Life simply continued. And in some ways, their everyday lives were reflected in the characters of each series.

  As the story line continues to evolve, so too does the Martucci collaboration. Lunches are still packed, noses are still wiped and time remains a rare and precious commodity in their household, but it is the sound of happy chaos that is the true background music of their writing. They hope that their work, though penned for a young adult audience, will be appreciated by the young of every age, and that all enjoy reading it as much as they enjoyed writing it.

  Books by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci:

  The Dark Creations Series (A YA paranormal romance series)

  Dark Creations: Gabriel Rising (Part 1)

  Dark Creations: Gabriel Rising (Part 2)

  Dark Creations: Gabriel Rising (Part 1&2)

  Dark Creations: Resurrection (Part 3)

  Dark Creations: The Hunted (Part 4)

  Dark Creations: Hell on Earth (Part 5)

  Dark Creations: Dark Ending (Part 6)

  The Arianna Rose Series (A paranormal romance series)

  Arianna Rose (Part 1)

  Arianna Rose: The Awakening (Part 2)

  Arianna Rose: The Gathering (Part 3)

  Arianna Rose: The Arrival (Part 4)

  Arianna Rose: The Gates of Hell (Part 5)

  The Planet Urth Series (A YA science-fiction series)

  Planet Urth (Book 1)

  Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2)

  Planet Urth: The Underground City (Book 3)

  Planet Urth: The Rise of Azlyn (Book 4)

  Planet Urth: The Fate of Urth (Book 5)

  The Hunter of the Light series (A YA paranormal romance series)

  Hunter of the Light (Book 1)

  Thank You So Much For Reading Our Book!

  We deeply appreciate your readership and would love to hear from you!

  For information about upcoming releases (or just to say hi!) please visit our website at http://darkcreationssaga.com or our Facebook page at http://on.fb.me/1dlUUF5 To sign up for our mailing list and receive information about upcoming release and special promos, please visit http://eepurl.com/Jp7yz

  Thank you again for reading!

  Love,

  Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

  Oh, One Last Thing Before You Go…

  When you turn the page, you may be given the opportunity to express your thoughts on Facebook and Twitter automatically. If you enjoyed our book, would you take a second to click that button and let your friends know about it?

  If they get something out of the book, they’ll be grateful to you, and we will be, too!

  Thank you so much!

  Love,

  Jenny and Chris

  Dark Creations: Resurrection

  A novel

  By Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

  This book is a work of fiction. Na
mes, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  DARK CREATIONS: RESURRECTION

  Published by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci at Smashwords

  Copyright © 2012 Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

  All rights reserved.

  First edition: March 2012

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  “It is not more surprising to be born twice than once; everything in nature is resurrection.”

  ― Voltaire

  “Being deeply loved by someone

  gives you strength;

  while loving someone deeply

  gives you courage.”

  – Lao Tzu

  Chapter 1

  Robert Hernandez struggled to fathom the bizarre appearance of the patient in the rear compartment of his ambulance. He had been a paramedic for more than five years and had been tested on more occasions than he cared to admit. He had witnessed his share of gruesome accidents caused by individuals who chose to mix drugs and alcohol with driving, dealt with uncooperative overdose victims who resisted his treatment in lieu of death, and even had a naked man attempt to hijack his vehicle. The instances he’d experienced, though shocking, had not disturbed him the way the man on the gurney did now.

  He did not consider himself to be a jaded man. He did, however, view himself as seasoned to circumstances that would make most others faint. It was seldom that a patient in his rig unsettled him as intensely as the one currently on board did. Generally, calls involving injured children shook him, as did circumstances concerning the mistreatment of the elderly. Beyond children and senior citizens, little else affected him. He had been told by several of his medical school professors that his ability to compartmentalize his feelings was a gift, a gift that would make him a fine doctor in the near future. That is, if medical school and ambulance calls did not kill him first.

  He was good at keeping his work and feelings separate, both in school and on the job. But still, he felt an aversion to his current patient, a distrust of him. He could not explain it, could not explain why he felt so uneasy. It was a mystery to him. After all, his patient was half dead. Yet, even in his condition, eyes closed and seemingly lifeless, his patient seemed sinister. His patient was enormous and dangerous looking. There was nothing new about that, though. Big, creepy patients had been in his rig before. This was different. There was more to it, something else; something instinctive.

  Whatever it was, he needed to push his inexplicable feelings aside and do his job. He needed to transport his patient to the hospital.

  “How’s he doing, Joe?” Robert asked his partner, fellow paramedic Joseph McCauley.

  “I don’t know, man. His pulse is thready; I can barely feel it. He’s lost so much blood with these holes blasted in his shoulder and chest. I’ll be surprised if he makes it to the ER,” Joe stated as he depressed his middle and index finger along the point of the carotid artery on his patients neck.

  Holes. The word struck a chord within Robert, primarily because the word “hole” did not adequately describe the bloodied chasms that littered his patient’s body. Notwithstanding the wounds, the patient still breathed and maintained a pulse much to their astonishment. He and Joe, both trained professionals, had had difficulty detecting the slight throb that signified life in their patient. The faint beat, along with weak breathing, denoted life. The patient not only breathed, but surprisingly managed to be an intimidating presence as well, though logically incapacitated beyond intimidation.

  While Robert contemplated the frightening nature of the man in the back of his ambulance, he had been depressing the accelerator with his right foot unconsciously. The road conditions were treacherous and he drove just slightly faster than the speed limit indicated, carefully navigating the rain-slickened streets of Harbingers Falls. He realized his marginally hastened speed and the unnecessary risk it posed and immediately compensated by slowing down as he approached an intersection.

  “We gotta move things along, man,” Joe called from the rear. “This guy’s circling the drain.”

  Circling the drain was Joe’s shorthand for dying, fast.

  As Robert moved toward the intersection, the traffic light facing him turned red. Slowing to a near halt, he immediately checked the flow of traffic in all directions. Every vehicle was stopped in response to the wailing of his ambulance siren and its accompanying flashing lights. For good measure, he sounded his horn, which issued less of a blare and more of an electronic buzz, to warn any vehicles who dared entertain the notion of proceeding along on their route and getting in his way.

  Once he safely passed the intersection, Robert called back to his partner.

  “Hey Joe, how’s he doing?” he asked.

  “Not good, man. Not good at all,” Joe replied solemnly as his hands worked frantically over their colossal patient.

  Found at the Martin residence and assumed an alleged attacker, their patient had sustained multiple gunshot wounds. Robert and Joe were not informed of the giant’s name. According to Melissa Martin, a very frightened teenage girl, she and her friends had met in the woods behind Harbingers High School and had been ambushed and chased by the startling leviathan. Their patient had apparently intruded in the Martin home shortly thereafter and had threatened her and her father. He was ultimately met by Melissa’s shotgun-wielding father.

  The nameless man’s behavior and the details surrounding it were for the police to investigate and determine. Keeping the anonymous hulk alive until they made it to the hospital was Robert’s job.

  He was curious to see and hear the reactions to his patient’s appearance from the emergency room staff. After all, the man on the gurney looked unlike any human being he had ever laid eyes on. He wondered whether he would be alone in his bewilderment of how his patient came to look as he did. The unidentified titan’s face and stature were dissimilar to any he had ever seen before. Robert estimated he stood nearly seven feet tall and weighed more than three hundred pounds. Both he and Joe were fit and strong, but had struggled to load the massive man into the rear of the rig.

  The man’s enormous body was also enshrined with thick ropey muscle tissue. So dense were the fibers that Joe, who had ten more years than Robert as a paramedic and also served his country as part of a medic unit dispatched overseas to aid in a Middle Eastern conflict, had struggled to run an intravenous line. Penetrating what seemed to be foreign matter beneath the man’s skin had proved to be nearly impossible. Robert surmised that the staff at Harbinger’s General Hospital would have an array of questions regarding the gargantuan man’s physical composition. He would love to hear the answers to all of those questions, but for now, he was charged with his patient’s safe arrival.

  Robert proceeded along Hoyt road, a residential street. He would follow it to the next intersection and turn onto Route 53, a road that would lead him directly to Harbinger’s General.

  Rain, which had been mixing all night alternating between sleet and wet snow then back to rain again, had picked up in intensity. Large droplets pelted the ambulance issuing a fitful drumming against it. The windshield wipers delivered a rhythmic accompaniment to the cacophonous pounding of the rain. The beating of the rain and thumping of the windshield wipers in conjunction with the howling of his ambulance siren became a maddening musical arrangement, an insane symphony. Normally, such noises were mildly annoying but easily tuned out by Robert. However, something more than the loud, disjo
inted noises unsettled him, something far more profound. His mind kept drifting back to his patient.

  Approaching the juncture where Hoyt Road led to Route 53, he saw that no cars were present. Though it was not a heavily frequented crossroad, he depressed the horn and issued the electronic buzz once again both before and while he proceeded across the interconnected streets. As he traversed the connected roads, a black van appeared out of nowhere.

  He could not see a driver. He did not have time. The black van rushed toward him, seemingly unable to stop. Blurred by wind-driven rain and not appearing to break, the black van deviated slightly askew, as if avoiding a direct impact. Robert had nowhere to go. He stomped on the brake pedal. Decelerating too quickly, the ambulance went into a full skid.

  Frantically, Robert tried to direct the rig. If he turned left, he would crash his ambulance squarely into the black van. Continuing straight would place a telephone pole directly in his path.

  With no time to react, Robert veered right, hard. The black van veered right as well, forcing its bumper to roughly graze the port side of the ambulance. Metal shrieked, offended by the abrupt encounter, sending angry sparks thrashing and flaying about briefly in the descending rain.

  The impact of the black van colliding into his ambulance sent Robert careening farther to the right.

  “What the hell!” Joe shouted from the rear.