Planet Urth (15 page)

“I am talking about you!” she says and smacks me
on my arm lightly.  She stomps her foot then places both hands on her hips.  “Sheesh, don’t you even know how to take a compliment?” she asks me exasperatedly. 

I am taken
aback by what she has said.  “Me?  I’m the role model you’re talking about?”

“Yes, you dope!  Who else would I be talking abo
ut?  I was looking right at you.” She throws her hands in the air.  They land against her thighs with a slapping sound. 

“First of all, where the heck did you get your temp
er from?  And second of all, I thought you were talking about Dad because I am not half the role model he was.  I kept everything bottled up forever, remember?  I was too afraid to tell you anything,” I say then add, “and I am not a dope.”

I wait fo
r June to erupt and unleash the last few days’ worth of fear and anger on me.  But she does not.  In fact, her face is serene.

“You’re right,” June says.  Every bit of fire in her voice is extinguished.  “You are not a dope.  Not at all, in fact.  You are smart and strong and an amazing hunter and an even more amazing fighter.  You can do anything you set your mind to, Avery.  And
you take good care of me.  All those things make you someone to look up to, the person I look up to and want to be like.”

My throat tig
htens and my eyes burn again, but this time they are not tears born of sadness or shame, anger or frustration.  This time, they are tears of gratitude, and pride. 

“Thank you,” I say
in an unsteady voice. 

“No,” June says.  “Thank you.”

I allow a moment to pass between us as I blink feverishly and try to keep from crying. 

“My pleasure,” I barely manage.

June smiles broadly then turns toward the lake.  I take a moment to compose myself and at the same time, scan the woods for any sign of Urthmen.  All seems quiet for now, but the day is slipping from us.  I did not realize so much time had passed.  Will and his brother and sister have been gone for a while, and June and I have been talking for quite some time.  Time feels as though it is ticking faster than ever.  We need to leave as soon as possible.  We need to hurry if we want to make it to the cave before the Lurkers come out. 

“It looks like they are almost done down there,” June says quietly. 

I breathe a silent sigh of relief.  I do not mean to be disrespectful in my thoughts, but the world we live in does not provide us time for anything.  We are always running from something horrible, hoping we are headed toward something that will bring us comfort and solace.  Moments of peace are rare and precious.  And they do not last long. 

Will, Oliver
, and Riley head up the hill with some of their belongings.  Their moment has ended, and a new one begins. 

“Are you
ready?” I ask Will.

“I guess so,” he replies after a deep breath. 

I want to reach out and touch his arm and tell him that he will be okay, that his brother and sister will make it through this.  But now is not the time, and standing in the middle of the woods where Urthmen just struck is certainly not the place. 

“All right then you guys can just follow us,” I say with a weak smile and wave them on. 

We walk and backtrack the trail June and I traveled to get to the lake.  Our pace is brisk and I notice that Will is as vigilant as I am.  His eyes sweep the landscape continually.  The forest is filled with ordinary sounds.  Birds flit from treetop to treetop.  Leaves rustle, and squirrels and chipmunks scurry across our paths.  The only added sound is the pleasant lilt of June’s voice as she tries to make conversation with Oliver and Riley. 

“Our cave is not huge or anything.  It is cozy.  And Avery and I have candles made from beeswax that we use at night.  She usually leaves them lit until I fall asleep,” I hear her say.

I strain to watch Will from the corner of my eye.  A tiny smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.  His smile becomes contagious.  I feel a similar one begin to make its way across my lips.  June has a charm about her that I never knew existed.  And how could I have?  We’ve been isolated for her entire life.  Her gift has been kept under wraps.  Now, though, as we walk and I hear her working her magic on Oliver and Riley, getting them to respond with tones that are remarkably upbeat considering their circumstances, I am blown away by her.  She is my new role model in that regard.  I will look to her when hoping for pointers on how to win them over and help them.  

We continue at our hur
ried speed and June captivates Will’s brother and sister with her magnetic personality.  She has described our cave inside and out, has told them about the river we go to every morning and her incident with the boart that led to my incident with the mother boart.  I notice she is careful to leave out the part about me getting entangled and almost eaten by the spidery monster and the Lurkers that we barely escaped.  Neither Oliver nor Riley need to hear a story as disturbing as the one that unfolded last night.  Even I would prefer not to hear it.  The memory is just too frightening to relive. I can only hope that the Lurkers have moved on, that they don’t return again tonight.

When we reach what I believe is the halfway point of our journey, I slow and take a
quick glance at the children.  The conversations have ended and the three of them look tired.  I look at Will and take my cue from his expression.

“I don’t know about everyone else
, but I need to stop and rest my feet for a minute,” I say. 

“M
e too.  Who else is with us?” Will asks.

June
, Oliver and Riley raise their hands. 

“It is unanimous, I guess,” he says to me.

“Okay, how about we rest over there by those big flat rocks,” I say and point to a pair of stones that jut from the earth and are surrounded by bushes dotted with plump, yellowish-red berries.

The
children do not need to be told twice.  They scramble for the opportunity to sit and beat Will and me there.  The three of them sit on one rock while the other remains empty.

Will sits first a
nd slips the straps of his backpack from his shoulders.  He places it between his feet and looks at me.  My feet are throbbing and I want to sit, but the thought of being so close to him makes my insides tremble like leaves in a windstorm. But exhaustion triumphs and I make my way to the rock slowly before sitting. 

I notice his scent right away.  Unfamiliar but pleasant and welcome, I a
m suddenly filled with his musk-and-sunshine scent. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” he says and tears me away from the strange joy I am reveling in from simply sitting next to him. 

I pause for a moment and need to remind myself what he is talking about.  I do not know why my mind feels so scrambled. 

“I don’t know how to do what my parents did, you know?  I don’t know what to do for Oliver and Riley,” he says
quietly.

“You did great back at the lake when Oliv
er was about to smash the Urthman,” I say and feel as though the sun is blazing down on me from overhead when it is not.

My clothes cling to my body.  My skin is suddenly damp with pe
rspiration. My calves complain from trekking all day as I tuck one leg under my bottom.  I am suddenly very aware of Will’s close proximity.  He reaches for his backpack and unzips it.  As he does, his forearm brushes mine.  His skin is fiery against mine, unexpected and yet so deliciously welcome despite the fact that I am perspiring as though I have been running in midday summer sun.  I scoot aside ever so slightly, away from Will, for fear I will burst into flames if his skin touches mine again.  I am suddenly parched.  I reach for my canteen.

As
my fingertips graze the hard exterior, my thirst burgeons.  I quickly open it and bring it to my lips.  Cold water trickles down my throat as I greedily gulp.  It is refreshing and cools me from the inside out.  Some dribbles from the corner of my mouth.  I try to whisk away the droplets with the back of my hand without Will noticing.  I glance at him quickly and see that he drinks from his water bottle, too, but is far more refined about it, sipping rather than swigging as I did.  When he finishes, he turns to face me.  He bends his leg as he twists his body and his knee rests against my thigh.  I feel heat bloom across my cheeks. 

“How did you do it?” he asks.  “How did you care for June all by yourself for the last year?”

I consider his question briefly before answering.  “Truthfully, I have no idea.  I know that’s probably not the answer you want to hear, but I just woke up every morning and did it.  I rarely have a plan for anything.  I take one day at a time, and some days, it feels like I can only take one breath at a time,” I admit. I hope I have made sense and that I have not said too much.

“Yeah, I understand what you mean,” he says
and looks directly into my eyes. 

I am lost in the swells of pastel blue and green as they blend seamlessly and undulate like ripples on a still lake.  I have to remind myself to blink, to breathe.  The moment quickly becomes one that I can only take
a single quivering breath at a time.  Words escape me and my heart plucks away at an unsteady rhythm inside my chest. 

Will
scrubs his face with both hands and the hypnotic spell of his eyes is broken. 

“I just,
I just can’t believe they’re gone,” he says and his voice cracks.  “One minute my family was happy and fine and the next. . .” He allows his sentence to trail off. 

Sadly, I know exactly what he is talking about, what he is f
eeling.  “I know,” I whisper. 

“The hurt,” he begins, but his ability to speak is strangled by loss. 

My hand darts out, acting without the authorization of my brain, and touches his forearm.  His skin looks exactly as it feels: rich, almost velvety.  He is hurting, suffering, and I know that my thoughts about his skin and the fact that I am touching him is inappropriate, but I am inexplicably powerless to stop myself.  I want to comfort him, but do not know how.  Words of consolation do not exist in the English language for what he and his brother and sister have been through. 

He looks at my hand on his arm then to my face.  Heat zips
like a laser beam from his eyes to my cheeks and sets them afire. I start to pull my hand away and am shocked when his long, slender fingers cover my hand and keep it there.  My pulse quickens and a peculiar rush similar to hope gushes through my veins.

“How do you work around it?  How do you get through it and take care of June?  Right now I can’t imagine anything other than how I feel right now.”

His grip on the top of my hand tightens and I worry that when I try to speak, my words will come out in one breathless jumble. 

“It wasn’t easy,” I say honestly.  “I mean, after seein
g my mom,” I cannot say the word “killed.” I clear my throat and continue. “I still had my dad.  But once he passed we were on our own.”

Will lowers his head.  “Oh,” is all he says feebly.

“You will figure it out.  You’ve already started.  I saw it back at the lake,” I say.  “And I will help any way I can,” I add.

He lifts his chin and looks at me.  “Thank
s,” he says and offers a small, pained smile.  He looks to the sky and I follow his eyes. 

“It’s getting late,” I comment on the position of the sun.  “We’re only about halfway to our cave.”

“I guess we should get going,” Will agrees. 

He releases my hand.  I withdraw mine and delight in the puzzling tingling in my fingertips. 
He stands and turns to me.  Golden light sluices through the forest canopy and kisses his deep-tan skin, illuminating his lustrous eyes, making both glow with unearthly radiance.  Even his rich, dark hair has scattered highlights.  He offers his hand to me and I take it unquestioningly.  He helps me up.  I did not need help, but the feel of his hand wrapped around mine again is welcome.  Once I am on my feet he releases it, but not before giving it a slight squeeze. 

“Okay guys, we need to start
walking again,” he tells Oliver and Riley. 

I nod to June.  She stands and we resume our hike back to the cave.  I lead the way and Will picks up the rear.  The sun is dipping lower with every minute that passes.  Dusk will be upon us before we know it.  We must hurry if we
want to avoid another massacre, one that none of us will survive.  I am all too aware of the danger threatening all around us, Urthmen, Lurkers, both seem unavoidable.  But as I walk knowing Will is behind me, my thoughts remain divided, split between the endless hazards that menace us continually and the endless possibilities of a future with our new friends.

Chapter 14

When finally we make it to the cave, Oliver, Riley, and June are exhausted.  Will and I killed a rabbit each on the way home and roast both quickly before putting out the fire and settling inside the cave for the night.  I show Will the boulder and logs and how the boulder fits perfectly against the mouth of the cave and how it is wedged in place by logs that extend to the far wall.  He seems impressed by our security system.  I used to be.  But after the night June and I had with the Lurkers screeching and hissing as they scratched at the boulder, I am not so sure anymore. 

June has lit the beeswax candles and served dinner.  We eat in silence
, then the children, June included, lie beside each other.  June wants to hear about Will, Oliver, and Riley’s lives before they moved to the cave by the lake.

“Where did you live before finding the cave by the lake?” she asks.  “Are there others out there, other humans like us?”

“Yes, there are,” Will begins speaking.  “Remember the people we met?” he addresses Oliver and Riley, prodding their memories.  His rich, deep voice fills the space.  His brother and sister nod.

“We’ve met quite a few different people along the way,” he says.  “Remember Calyx?” he says to just Oliver.

Oliver shudders as if bugs are crawling over his skin and says, “Oh yeah, how can I forget her?”

“Calyx was an old woman who lived underground with her daughters.  They had survived attack after attack somehow and found us when we were out hunting.”

“I screamed.  She looked like a girl Urthman,” Oliver adds.  His expression is grave.  “She had only one eye that worked and it was droopy.  Half of her face was like that.  The other eye was all cloudy-looking and whitish.  It rolled around and never focused.”  Another tremor shakes Oliver, and he crinkles his nose as if he has smelled something unpleasant.  Will shoots him a stern look and Oliver’s features smooth instantly. 

“That’s true,” Will says.  “She had an unusual look about her.
  So when Oliver saw her, he started screaming.  My mom and dad came running, ready to kill her, but her daughters rushed to help her.  We saw them and realized they were human and that the old woman belonged to them.”

I l
ook at June.  Her eyes are wide and her mouth is shaped like a small ‘o’.  She looks captivated by Will and Oliver sharing a tale of other human beings living in our midst.

“What happened
next?”  June asks.  “Did anyone get hurt?”

“No,” Will answers and rakes a hand through his short hair.  “No one was hurt.
  My parents lowered their weapons and they all greeted each other.”

“What about Calyx?
” June persists.  “Weren’t her feelings hurt because everyone mistook her for a female Urthman?”

A chuckle pa
sses through Will’s lips, an amazing sound I want to hear again.  “I don’t think so,” he says.  “We didn’t tell her what we thought.  We kept our initial opinions to ourselves, especially after seeing her daughters.”

“
Oh wow,” June says dreamily.  “That is so great.  What about the daughters?  Were they beautiful?  They must have been,” June says.

A
strange sensation washes over me at her words.  I feel agitated and threatened for no reason.  I feel a blend of anger and sadness at the thought of Calyx’s daughters being beautiful, or more specifically, of Will thinking they are beautiful.  I do not know what has come over me, why it would matter if he did or didn’t.  My fists are balled in my lap.  My nails are biting into my palms.  I am waiting for Will to agree or disagree with what June has said with the same eagerness I anticipate a meal. 

“Uh, no, not exactly,” Will says uncomfortably.

“Yuck!  No way!  Tell them the truth, Will,” Oliver chimes in impishly.  “They looked just like their mother: old and scary!”

“Ollie, it’s not nice to speak about people who were nice to you, to all of us, like that,” Will says
levelly and trains his gaze on his younger brother.  The mischievous twinkle that sparkled in Oliver’s eyes dulls and his shoulders slump. 

I am relieved that Will did not find the women attractive and I am proud of how he handled
Oliver’s expression of his opinion.  He was calm but firm.

“Sorry,” Oliver says sheepishly.  “And please don’t call me Ollie.  I’m not
a little kid anymore,” he adds and sounds exactly like June. 

“Okay,” Will agrees.  “I won’t call you Ollie and you won’t speak unkindly about others wh
o aren’t here to defend themselves.  Deal?”

“Deal,” Oliver agrees.

“So there are three more humans in the forest?” June says excitedly and steers the subject back to Calyx and her daughters. 

A gloomy expression clouds Will’s features.  “Calyx and her daughters are,” he starts then pauses.  He clears his throat
before he continues.  “They did not make it.  They were killed in an ambush.”

June
’s hands rocket to her mouth and cover it.  “Oh my gosh,” she says.

“
We weren’t there when it happened.  We had left for the day to hunt.  When we came back the place had been stormed by Urthmen,” Will says through gritted teeth.  “That’s been the case with everyone we’ve ever lived with.” He looks at his feet.  “I guess we’re bad luck or something,” he adds weakly.  His shoulders hunch forward, he looks defeated. 

“I don’t believe that,
” June disagrees adamantly.  “You are not bad luck.  And besides, we don’t need luck.  We are all safe with Avery here,” she says proudly.  “Avery is the best fighter there is.”

I feel Will eyes bore into my skull and I am afraid to turn and look at him. 
A bead of sweat trickles between my shoulder blades when I hear him speak.

“I know she is.  I have never se
en anyone fight quite like her,” he says to June but continues to watch me.  I see him in my periphery.  His eyes are the sky and treetops combined and bathed in a pale glow of sunlight, and they are on me.  He and my sister are talking about me, about something that comes as naturally to me as breathing, yet I am so unsettled by it I could jump right out of my skin.  “Where did you learn to fight like that, to swing a sword and throw a spear?” he asks me directly.

I turn to face him slowly.  My cheeks are burning
, but the rest of me feels ice-cold.  “My dad,” I say quietly. 

“Your dad must’ve been some teacher,” Will says.  He studies my face.  “I have never seen anyone with skill and speed like yours.”

I squirm uncomfortably.  As June knows, accepting compliments is not my strong suit.

“She was better than our dad
by the time she was fifteen,” June offers.  “Avery has a gift.”

I would like to melt into the stone of the walls and floor I am so embarrassed. 

Will is still watching me.  “Yes, she certainly does,” he says then looks to June.  “I think you’re right.  We are safe here.”  He smiles at June, and she returns the gesture with a sunny smile of her own. 

“Tells us more stories,” June urges him.

“Yes, Will, please tell us stories Mom and Dad used to tell,” Riley says.  Tears slip down her cheeks and I slide June a glance.  June puts a comforting arm around Riley’s shoulders.  Riley nuzzles against her, and I realize in that moment that June’s gift goes beyond bloodshed and violence.  It transcends butchery and war.  Hers is so much more important, and not just to me, but to the world.  She represents all that our present world lacks.  She is kind and decent.  She has an open heart and a capacity to love that I never even knew existed. 

“Okay, let me see,” Will begins.  “Once upon a t
ime, people, humans, ruled the Earth.  They lived in houses and the adults went to places called
jobs
and children went to places called
schools
.”

I look to June again.  She is watching me with a mysterious glint in her eyes.  Perhaps it is because she has heard me tell similar stories, or perhaps it is something else entirely.  I am too tired to figure it out right now.  I am enchanted by Will’s voice. 

“School was a place where children would gather.  They would learn their letters and numbers and sometimes even play together.  One grown-up would teach them to read and write and ready themselves for the future.”

“Teachers were important people,” Riley says then yawns.

“Yes, they were,” Will smiles at her affectionately. 

He continues telling them about school and jobs and the order that once existed in our
disordered world.  Before long, June’s eyelids grow heavy.  Will’s voice flows smoothly.  His cadence is as soothing as floating on a gently rolling river.  It has lulled the children, and one by one, they drift off to sleep. 

I am left alone with Will. 

We clean up any remnants left behind from dinner and straighten the new gear he and his siblings have brought.  Once everything is organized and put away, I unroll my sleep mat next to June. 

“You’re tired?”
he asks quietly. 

“I should be, but I’m not,” I admit. 
Having him in the cave with me, so close by, I doubt I’ll ever be relaxed enough to sleep.  “How about you, are you tired?”

“No, I guess I’m like you.  I should be exhausted, but the thought of sleeping right now seems impossible.”

“Huh,” I say awkwardly. 

Will walks away from the sleeping children and leans against the
far wall, exactly where I spent all of last night awake.  He slides down until he is sitting.  I am suddenly self-conscious of the fact that I am now standing alone, hovering over my sleep sack.  I do not know what to do.  I do not know whether he wants company and wants me to come and sit beside him or whether he wants to be left alone with his thoughts.  I have messed up once today, when I blurted out that I watched my mother be killed by Urthmen back at the lake.  I do not want to do it again.  I do not want to offend him on his first night without his parents, away from home and at our cave. 

“Want company?” I ask stiffly and steal a nervous glance his way. 

“Yes, please,” he answers sincerely. 

My heart stutters a moment while my brain commands my legs to move.  I walk on shaky legs to where he sits and take a seat beside him. 

“Okay,” I say as candlelight flickers and dances across the smooth stone walls of the cave.  I am thankful for the dim light for once.  My face is flushed, I am sure. 

When I am seated beside him, he turns his body to face me. 
As he does, his knee grazes my thigh then rests there, his skin touching mine so lightly it send chills racing over my flesh.  “I can’t believe that this day actually happened.  None of it seems real,” he says.  “I mean, I know it really happened, but I guess I keep hoping it is just a bad dream, a nightmare I’ll wake up from.”

I wi
sh I could wake him and tell him it was all just a dream, a horrible, vivid nightmare.  I wish I could make it all go away and take away his pain.  But I cannot.  Life isn’t that simple.  Nothing is easy in our world. 

“I am sorry, Will,” I say. 

My words are so minimal.  They seem so empty on the surface.  But I mean them, all of them. I am truly sorry for what he and his siblings have been through. 

“Thank you,” he says.  “Thank you for warning us right before it happened
, and for saving Oliver and Riley.” He pauses and swallows hard.  His voice is gravelly when he begins talking again.  “What you did was brave, braver than anything I’ve ever seen.  You risked your life for us.  Without you, we would all be dead.”

The starkness of his statement strikes me like a slap in the face. 
He is thanking me profoundly, genuinely, yet all I can think of is the last sentence he spoke.  I’ve only known Will for a less than a day, but the thought of losing him terrifies me. 

“You’re welcome,” I say
when I realize an awkward amount of time has passed. 

I want to say more
.  I want to tell him I worried for him and his family for two days, that I am so happy to have them with me, but I cannot.  He is suffering, grieving the loss of his parents who were taken from him in the most heinous fashion imaginable.  I have lived through it.  I know what it is like to feel as if a raw, ragged hole has been punched in my chest.  I wish I could fill it for him, heal him.  But I do not possess the power to do so.  Instead, I smile as warmly as I can and try to silently share the sympathy I feel for him. 

Will parts his lips and is about to speak, when a horrible din peals through the quiet of the cave. 

I know the sound.  The sun has set.  Night has fallen and the Lurkers have returned. 

Hissing and howling clashes with a snarling noise that sounds like the wet slopping of one animal feasting on another. 

Will’s face is haunted when he looks from the boulder to me. 

“They’re here,” I say.  “The Lurkers are back.”

“Back?  They were here before?” he asks incredulously. 

“Yes, last night,” I say.

“You slept though this last night?” he asks and is clearly rattled by the unnerving shrieks and calls.