Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2)

by Martucci, Jennifer

  We hike for the entire morning. Trees become fewer and grow farther apart, and we are able to cover more ground in less time. The sun is high overhead when we see an end to our wooded home.

  A blackened road made of asphalt appears suddenly and is thinly concealed by tall stems of dying growth.

  “We made it,” June says. Her eyes are round as she stares at the blacktop. “Is that a road?” she asks in wonder.

  “Yep,” Will answers for me. “It sure is.”

  On the other side of the road, squat structures with rectangle cutouts that look like eyes are interspersed. Many sag and look dilapidated. Very little of the lush greenery we are accustomed to seeing carries over into the new landscape before us. In fact, much of what we see is dirty and bare looking.

  “I still can’t believe we’re here,” June adds. Her voice is fraught with nerves. I share her nervousness. Still, I feel compelled to forge ahead.

  “Are you ready?” I look to each of the children then to Will and ask.

  I hear murmurs of agreement. “Okay, then let’s stick to the side of the road. We’ll follow the line where the pavement meets the woods.”

  “What happens when we run out of woods?” Riley asks.

  I do not have a firm plan in place. I do not have a plan at all, in fact. “We’ll make that decision when we have to,” I answer cryptically. “For now, we’ll just stay close to the woods.”

  We step from the shade of the trees out onto the street. I immediately feel hotter that I have ever felt. The sun beats down from above. Without the cover of leaves and limbs I feel exposed, vulnerable. Yet I cannot imagine retreating to the forest again and contending with both Lurkers by night and Urthmen by day.

  We are not on the road long when the rhythmic patter of booted footsteps causes me to freeze. Will’s eyes dart from the woods to me then back again.

  “Hide,” he says.

  I do not waste a moment. I grab June’s hand and yank her into a tangled mass of bramble. Will, Oliver and Riley are right behind me. We squeeze together and watch as an entire patrol of Urthmen march down the road we were just on. I know we should withdraw deeper into the woods but the sight before me, before all of us, holds us.

  A male Urthman is perched beside a female Urthman, a rare sight. They are dressed in clothing I have never seen before. A fur lined cloth is draped across the female’s shoulders. It is the richest, brightest hue of red I have ever seen and looks as if it would be soft to the touch. The male Urthman wears a similar cloth, but his is a vivid blue shade. Both are adorned with ornate gold stitching. The gold stitching matches the golden crowns balanced on their misshapen heads. The clothing and crowns do little to improve the ghastliness of their appearances, but they do give them an air of importance.

  My eyes wander from their attire to their mode of transportation. They do not walk. They are sitting beside one another in a wheeled contraption. I believe it is a wagon. But my father once told me wagons were pulled by horses, an animal long-since extinct that used to serve humans.

  Animals do not tow the wagon I see now, though. Human beings do.

  Six humans, in all, walk atop the burning blacktop barefoot. They wear only a thin garment that covers their pelvises and are chained to the cart they draw. Their ribs are visible. Their knees, elbows and cheekbones are prominent. They look as though they have not eaten in some time. A nearby Urthman, also in the carriage, sitting on a rectangular structure right behind them, continually lashes them with a long strap of leathery looking material.

  The sound of the whip cracking makes me jump. Inside, I feel as if my blood is hotter than the midday sun, boiling and about to bubble over. I have never heard of humans enslaved by Urthmen as I see them enslaved now. First, I learned of Ross and Tal’s imprisonment and torture of women, and now I see this. The abundance of atrocities committed staggers me. I want to run out in front of the carriage and behead the monster whipping the humans. I want to spear the grotesque pair perched in the rear. But I know I cannot. I am outnumbered. I would be killed for sure, and June, Will, Riley and Oliver would suffer the same fate. I will not jeopardize their safety any more than I have already. So I wait and watch in horror as the cart rolls by and the patrol passes.

  Once all have passed, I hear a rumble. I look through the interlaced vines and down the road and see a large truck bringing up the rear, a vehicle I have heard about and seen pictures of but have never seen in life before. My jaw drops as the massive metal machine passes.

  I turn to Will and whisper, “Have you ever seen one of those?”

  The expression on Will’s face looks as mine did seconds ago. His mouth is agape and his eyes are pinned on the truck. He tears his eyes away from it and answers, “No,” then returns his gaze to it.

  I scan the faces of the children. They are all transfixed by what they have just seen. When the truck is past us and no longer visible, I am bombarded by a flurry of questions.

  “What was that thing? Was that a truck?” June asks.

  “Why were the Urthmen dressed like that?” Riley asks.

  “Why were humans pulling them along like that?” Oliver asks.

  I answer their questions to the best of my knowledge. Will helps and, together, we are able to appease much of the curiosity. With the children calm, I decide to confer with Will and form a plan.

  “I think we should rest now, go a little deeper into the woods and rest. Lurkers don’t live this close to the road and shouldn’t be a problem,” I say. “I think our best bet is to travel at night so we can move unseen. What do you think?”

  “I agree,” Will folds his arms across his chest and nods. “I didn’t like being out there on the road in broad daylight. I felt too open, you know?”

  “I do, I felt the same way.”

  “And you’re right. Lurkers don’t come this far out of the forest. Not even at night. I think we’ll be fine a little further in. Let’s rest now and ready ourselves for nightfall.”

  We inform June, Riley and Oliver of our decision. The children are hesitant at first, but prefer the idea of moving about in the dark to doing so by day when, at any given time, a team of Urthmen can simply appear and fill a street as they did moments earlier.

  I lead us away from the side of the road to a small thicket of bushes. The children lie, completely concealed by the bushes. Will and I rest beside them, only partially covered.

  A quick peek at Will reveals that a haunted look veils his features. He levels his aquamarine stare my way and I try to gauge what is behind it. I try to read what he is thinking. But all I see are twin pools of tropical water I once saw in an old photograph.

  “What is it?” I ask Will.

  Will does not answer right away. He looks off into the distance. The small muscles around his jaw work and flex. “If what we saw today, that parade of Urthmen with humans as slaves, if that’s all the world has to offer, I don’t know what we’re doing out here or where we’re heading,” he says. His tone is infused with an edge of equal parts desperation and sadness. I wish I could throw my arms around his neck and tell him I know exactly how he feels and that everything will be all right. It has to be. But I can’t. I am not brave enough.

  “There are more of us out there,” I tell him. “I can feel it in me, in my bones. They’re out there. We just have to find them.”

  “And then what?” he asks. “What happens after we find more humans?”

  “We fight,” I reply. “We fight for our freedom, for the freedom of all those who’ve fallen before us, all those who have been enslaved. We fight for what is ours. We fight for our right to exist. We fight for our lives.”

  Will holds my gaze for a long while.

  “I know there’s hope,” I tell him. “There’s got to be.”

  I hope I am right, but after what I saw at the compound and what I saw on the road, I am not so sure anymore.

  Chapter 7

  Will and I nap in shifts. When I wake from mine, I see that night has fallen. As
soon as my eyes focus I realize it is time to go.

  “We need to move,” I say to Will.

  He nods and we begin waking the children. June and Riley wake first.

  “Where are we?” Riley asks in the first few moments after her eyes open. She is undoubtedly groggy and confused.

  “We’re at the edge of the forest, near the street,” Will reminds her gently.

  “The street,” she says as awareness and panic collide. Her eyes hurry from side to side. “I remember the Urthmen, and the humans chained to the wagon.”

  Will places his arm around her shoulders and brings her close. “It’s okay,” he says soothingly. “They’re gone, and we’re not going anywhere near them again, okay?”

  “Okay,” she says reluctantly.

  “We’re going to find other human beings, like us, and things are going to be fine,” he tells her. I hope he’s right.

  “Of course things will be fine,” June chimes in and gives Riley a sisterly nudge. “How can anything go wrong when the sky looks like that?” she says and points overhead.

  “Ooh,” Riley says as she casts her gaze skyward. “Oh my gosh, it’s so beautiful.”

  “I agree. It’s hard to imagine there are bad things in the world when something that magnificent is above for all to see.”

  They continue to marvel at the night sky. Though they’ve seen it more than once, the sky is exceptionally clear.

  “The twinkly things, the stars, they look like jewels,” June comments. Then she turns to me. “We’ve seen jewels,” she gestures between the two of us. “Well not in real life, but we’ve seen them. Remember, Avery? Remember when dad showed us pictures of diamonds?”

  “I do,” I tell her. I remember the day well. An ancient book called an encyclopedia had managed to survive the war and the carnage that followed. It had an array of information contained within its pages, most of it about places and people I’d never heard of. But it was interesting, nevertheless. “And you’re right. The stars look like diamonds.”

  “I like the moon best,” Oliver joins the conversation and weighs in. “It’s bigger and brighter.”

  “The moon’s light will help us find our way out of here,” Will tells him as he grips his hand and helps his brother to his feet. His act prompts us to get moving.

  I help the girls to stand as well. Together, we make our way out onto the road once again.

  The temperature has dropped considerably and there is a distinct nip in the atmosphere that suggests a season change is near. I inhale deeply and feel the crisp air fill my lungs. It is different from the air in the forest. It’s dustier, drier.

  June is at my side and Will is behind me. We stay close to one another and move quickly. My heart keeps pace with the frenetic patter of our feet. I continue to scan the land in front of me while looking over my shoulder at regular intervals. We are alone as far as I can tell. Still, the woods on the side of the road are watchful. I cannot shake the feeling that countless eyes are minding our every move, waiting with bated breath to see what happens next. Urthmen, Lurkers, deranged humans who hold innocent women and children captive and an assortment of forest monsters have left my nerves frayed. Still, knowing that my imagination is overacting doesn’t stop me from glancing that way from time to time as we go.

  We continue down the long, dark road until we reach what looks like a town. Pale moonlight blanches everything in its wake, but even without the moon, I doubt anything could be done to help the landscape before me.

  Rows of brick and wood structures appear and line both sides of the street. I remember learning about places such as the one before me. My dad told me they were shops. Humans once owned places of business that would sell goods and services in exchange for stuff called money. Money once controlled the world. It is hard for me to imagine paper and coins controlling anything. Especially since those who’d had plenty of it died just the same as those who had not. Their money had only delayed the inevitable slightly, and bought them suffering at the hands of abominations along with it. Money fell to extinction along with humanity. As far as I know, it holds no value at all. And the places where it changed hands, the shops, bear the appearance of its elimination.

  Broken windows stare at us like lifeless eyes as we pass, and torn awnings flap quietly in the faint breeze that stirs. Piles of debris are clustered as far as I can see—stones, rocks, bricks and other material I cannot identify. Heaps of rubbish arise from the pavement and look like mangled metal corpses. They are covered in a lumpy, dry-looking substance the color of dried blood. They resemble the truck that passed when the Urthmen marched by earlier, but without wheels or the ability to move.

  “This place gives me the creeps,” June says and shivers. She wraps one arm across her body.

  “Me, too,” Riley says. “What is all this stuff? Where are we?”

  “I heard stories about places like this. I think this used to be a town,” Will tells the girls.

  “It’s really scary, this town place.” Riley comments.

  “I know, it is,” Will agrees and drapes his arm across her shoulders reassuringly.

  “Do you think Urthmen live here?” Oliver asks. I hear the edge in his voice, the nervousness. I feel it too. I wondered the same thing. But I suppose if Urthmen did live here, we’d be dead already.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Will answers. “These buildings are just shells. It doesn’t look like anyone or anything has been here for ages.”

  The metal heaps and storefronts are covered in a sooty layer of grime. The forest was never filmed in such muck. All that I am seeing is foreign and gloomy.

  “Have you ever seen a place like this?” I ask Will.

  “Uh-uh. I’ve only seen the forest,” Will shakes his head and says.

  “Me, too,” I say. “This place is awful,” I add. “It’s so depressing.”

  “I know,” he agrees as we come to a turnoff.

  “What do you think? Should we go down this road?” I ask Will.

  “Yes,” he surprises me by having a finite opinion. “Anything to get away from these buildings and all the other junk around here,” he adds and curls his upper lip in disgust.

  We make our way down a new street. I immediately notice that the layout is different. Houses, not buildings, line the lane.

  “Oh wow! Houses,” I hear Will whisper excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to see one of these. Haven’t you?” he does not wait for my response and continues. “My parents used to tell us stories they’d heard.” His head swivels as he looks from one house to the next. Childlike awe replaces his guarded expression. “All the things humans had, stuff like rooms and furniture, running water and tubs they bathed in, and lights! Lights inside the walls! Can you imagine!” he says and even in the dim light provided by the moon, I can see his translucent blue-green eyes dance with wonder.

  My stomach feels as if millions of bubbles are bouncing and bursting. His excitement is infectious. I feel my own interest pique.

  “Haven’t you dreamed about what they look like inside?” he asks me

  “Yes, I have,” I admit and the vision I imagined since I was a child reappears in my mind’s eye. Soft, plush material beneath my bare feet, carpeting, I believe my father called it, and walls that shut out the cold and heat just as the cave did, only the hard, coldness of it is missing, replaced, instead, with comfort and warmth. I always picture soft colors similar to the forest only less vibrant, more soothing. I envision all the luxuries I heard about: a soft, cozy bed to sleep in, water piped inside that runs both hot and cold, chests that run by power that keep food fresh. All of it sounds too magnificent to be true. Yet seeing the houses now as I do, I realize it was true once, long ago.

  “You want to get a closer look?” Will nudges me lightly and asks.

  “No, Will, we can’t,” Riley protests.

  “Yeah, I don’t know about that,” Oliver adds.

  “Come on,” Will tries. “This might be the one and only time we ever get
a chance to do it.”

  “I would kind of love to see the inside of a house,” June says quietly.

  “Me, too,” I confess.

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Will asks. “Let’s go,” he says as he looks all around then dashes off toward the house nearest to us.

  Worry niggles at the back of my brain. But I disregard it. I am carried on a wave of pure curiosity that I cannot resist. I take June’s hand in mine and follow after him. Oliver and Riley are not far behind.

  Will is at the front door before we are even on the front step. He tries the handle and finds that the knob turns easily, it is unlocked. He steps inside.

  Sallow light illuminates a narrow pathway and pushes against the darkness within. I scan the immediate area, terrified and inquisitive simultaneously. I spy a stout, cylindrical object in a windowsill to my immediate left. I go to it, wondering, dreaming it is what I think it is.

  “Will,” I murmur. “Look.” I urge him to join me. In the time I wait, I cannot resist. I feel it, instantly noting the waxy substance beneath my fingertips confirms what I suspected. “A candle,” I say as I wrap a hand around it. Something gritty coats it, but it’s too late for me to worry now. I slide my other hand beside it, and as I do, I bump a compact item that is lightweight. I lower the candle to the sill right away, my curiosity provoked beyond any familiar threshold. I fumble with the packed little thing my hand hit, straining my eyes to see that I am holding a thin cardboard cover. One side is smooth while the other bears a coarse strip. I slide my thumb along a ridge on the side opposite the coarse strip and lift a flap. The cardboard opens like a book, only inside, I don’t find pages. I find slender sticks. “A matchbook,” I manage breathlessly.

  “What?” Will asks incredulously. “No way! Let me see.” He is beside me within the space of a breath, his solid arm brushing mine with every move he makes. My body is at odds over which is more exciting, my recent discoveries, or Will’s proximity. “Wow,” he says as he manipulates the pocket-sized treasure. “Think they work?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” I turn my head toward him and challenge.