Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2)

by Martucci, Jennifer

  As I hold June close to my chest and try to calm her trembling form, I examine the cave further. I see Will, Oliver and Riley. They are dripping as I am. We have all been awakened with frigid water.

  “Will,” I call to him. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay. You?” he replies.

  “I’m fine,” I answer. “Riley! Oliver! Are you guys hurt badly?”

  “No too bad,” Oliver says. “My head hurts and is fuzzy, but I think I’m okay.”

  “Me, too,” Riley adds in a weak voice.

  “Where are we?” Will asks. The confusion scrawled across his features mirrors mine.

  “Looks like some kind of underground prison,” I say. The gravity of my words seizes me in an ironfisted grip. We are locked up awaiting a fate that can only be awful.

  With nothing left to lose, I release June and stand. I ignore the complaints of my muscles and joints and fly to the bars. I grip one cold, metal rod in each hand.

  “Hey! Hey!” I shout at the Urthmen standing nearby. My voice sounds rough and primal. It wells from a place in me that wants to protect my sister and friends, to survive. The conversation between the Urthmen stops and they train their beady eyes on me. “What are we doing in here? Why are we caged?” I demand. “Why didn’t you just kill us?” I scream, launching question after question at them.

  I know they are stunned by my outburst. I can see it in the slight tick of the expression of the Urthman closest to me. But his shock, as well as the others’ shock, is short lived.

  He closes the distance between us in the time it takes me to blink, moving with swiftness I thought Urthmen incapable of, and swings the object he holds. My knuckles are smashed with his bucket before I have time to react. Without warning, wood clashes with skin and bone. I cry out in agony. Blistering pain rockets from the joints in one hand halfway up my arm.

  “You filthy monsters!” Will shouts when I drop to my knees and clutch both hands to my chest. In my periphery, I see that he lunges at them, sticking his arms through the bars to try to grab them. But I am hurting too badly to try to stop him. His attempt to defend me could get him hurt too, or worse.

  The Urthman closest laughs at him. “Shut your mouth, human! All of you shut your mouths!” the Urthman orders. “You’ll find out what you need to know soon enough,” he says and another cruel snicker escapes him. “And I wouldn’t get used to it here. You won’t be here much longer.” Laughter erupts among them and continues until I feel as if my eardrums will explode from the horrid sound. Will charges at them a second time. I reach out a smarting hand and stop him.

  “Don’t,” I manage through my teeth. “It’s not worth it. They’re not worth it.”

  He mumbles something inaudible under his breath and stares down the Urthmen with the ferocity of a wild animal. Rage radiates from him. I feel it. It glows like an ember. I brim with a similar fire. But for the time being, there is nothing either one of us can do about it. We are trapped, prisoners of Urthmen.

  The firestorm inside me is tempered briefly when June’s face is before me.

  “Let me see your hands,” she says softly.

  “They’re fine,” I say.

  In truth, I think bones have been bruised badly, at least two. She will see as much if she glimpses them. Swelling has already begun, and attempting to bend the ones I suspect are injured results in stabbing pain. I hug her. “What happened to us? How did we get here?” I ask. My face is buried in her hair. I wonder whether my words are muffled when she does not respond right away

  “We were taken by Urthmen. Details don’t matter at this point, do they?”

  Her words, the expression on her face, both unite and chill me to my core. She is right, of course.

  “No, I guess they don’t,” I agree.

  “I remember being hit in the field,” Will says. His voices echoes through the cavernous hollow in which we are being held. “I have a knot on the back of my head,” he says and rubs his hand up the nape of his neck to the top of his head. He groans. “Oh wow, it’s tender.” He pulls his hand away and looks at it. Flecks of dried blood dot it.

  Oliver mimics his brother’s actions. “Me, too,” he says with a scowl.

  “My head hurts in the same place,” Riley adds. “And I have a huge lump. Ouch!” she cries as she touches the back of her head.

  “Looks like we were all taken the same way: a nice blow to the back of the head,” Will says with disgust.

  “I remember being swarmed and hit, then everything went black,” I say.

  I no longer embrace June, but she remains near, her small frame curled against mine. The meager warmth from her is a comfort. So is her scent, though it is tinged with dampness, and blood.

  “Why do you suppose we’re here?” Will asks. “I’ve never heard of anything like this, have you?”

  “No, never,” I confess. “I’ve only known them to kill, immediately, like it’s something they can’t help but do.”

  “I know. That’s all I’ve known my entire life. This,” he says and splays his arms at his sides. “Whatever is going on here, it’s bad.”

  I agree with Will, but I do not dare say as much in front of the children. I think that whatever is to come will be far worse than anything we could possibly imagine, worse than our most terrifying nightmares.

  Approaching footsteps add to my sense of impending doom. My head whips toward the bars and the sound. Six more Urthmen approach. They wear what resembles metal melted to fit their bodies like skin, and dread slithers down my spine.

  “Open the cage,” one orders the Urthmen posted beyond our cage. “It’s their time.”

  “Our time for what?” June turns to me and asks. Her eyes are wide with fright and her voice trembles.

  “I-I don’t know,” I reply.

  The Urthman that bashed my knuckles with his pail fumbles in his pocket for a moment and retrieves keys. Once he finds them and unlocks our cell door, he opens it.

  “Let’s go,” one of the armored Urthmen barks and gestures for us to leave the cave.

  Worry howls through my core like a bitter wind, freezing every muscle in place.

  “Move now!” he screams when I don’t move right away. But his tone, added to the metal he wears and the deadly looking blade he carries, sets my limbs into motion. I do as he says and walk out. June follows. She slips her hand in mine and squeezes. Will, Oliver and Riley are right behind us.

  Three of the six Urthmen are ahead of us. They begin walking. Their armor rattles and clacks as they march. Deep-seated intuition warns that perhaps it is a death march, and we are the guests of honor.

  “Keep going, straight down the corridor,” the Urthman continues to instruct us. He and the other two with him pick up the rear.

  I have no clue what is happening or where we are being led, just that we have to follow. I try to glance over my shoulder to gauge Will’s reaction to what is happening and see that it is no different from mine. He looks equal parts scared and confused. His eyes roam the hallway. There is nothing to see, but there is a faint buzz in the air I have never experienced before, an excitement that resonates in the atmosphere and is palpable. And it is more than the nervous energy radiating from us. Terror does not charge it. It is something else entirely. I find myself panicked by what generates it.

  Soon, the faint buzz swells.

  As we walk, what began as a weak hum transforms. It surges around the walls of the tunnel. Growling and rolling like a hungry beast, it echoes and grows louder the longer we walk. By the time we are midway down the corridor, the sound is a deafening roar. Even the walls vibrate. I have never heard such a commotion. Thunderous cheers, clapping, and stomping, all merge to create a rumble that shakes the earth beneath my feet.

  I cannot hear my thoughts by the time we reach the end of the tunnel and stand before a cage with a closed door on the other side of it.

  One of the Urthmen unlocks the door to the cage. “In,” he snaps.

  Will, June and I
exchange confused and horrified looks. We hesitate.

  “Get in now!” The Urthman bellows and begins shoving us inside. Once we are all in, he slams the cage door shut and locks it with just us inside.

  “Oh my gosh,” I breathe. My heart is hammering so hard it pummels my ribs. “What’s happening?” I scream. My voice is shrill. It echoes the utter panic I feel.

  “Shut up, human!” the Urthman who unlocked the gate booms. “You’ll find out soon enough!” He cackles then steps away. When he reappears, he is holding an armful of objects. I see my sword. He throws it at me, then tosses a large blade to Will before passing smaller ones to the children.

  “Why are you arming us?” I ask. I am more confused than I have ever been in my life.

  None of the Urthmen responds. They back away and head back down the tunnel, except two. Two remain with us, each holding a bow and arrow.

  Noise ebbs and flows like a tide lapping against a shoreline all around us. The cause of it remains unknown.

  Will nudges me. His shoulder rests against mine and he looks at me. “I don’t like this,” he shouts over the rumbling.

  “Something very bad is about to happen,” I yell back to him.

  “What’s happening, Avery?” June asks. Her eyes plead for me to tell her.

  “I don’t know,” I reply honestly.

  As soon as the words leave my lips, the door in front of us falls open, taking the far wall of our cage with it. Bright light blinds us. I squint and raise a trembling hand to my brow.

  “Out now!” one of the Urthmen armed with a bow and arrow barks.

  “What? Where are we?” I ask and know fully that I will not receive an answer.

  “Go!” he shouts. I glance over my shoulder, and immediately see that arrows are pulled taut in their bows. “Out now, or we’ll fire and kill you where you stand!” he roars a final time.

  My body lurches into action. I stumble but regain my footing quickly. My movement spawns a plume of dusty particles to kick up. When the cloud clears, I look down and realize I am standing on pale sand. The light-colored sand and the intense brightness distort my perception. But I am able to see Will, June, Oliver, and Riley when they are beside me. They all scramble and move closer to me. I look around and my jaw drops.

  A roar erupts all around me, the same roar I heard in the tunnel, only much louder. The sound is earsplitting. And now I see the source of it. Tiers of seats begin at ground level and rise high into the sky. Urthmen fill the benches, though most are on their feet shouting, stomping, pumping their fists, and flailing animatedly. There must be thousands of them. And their attention turns to us. We have entered an arena. The roar, the screaming and chanting, all of it is for us. The crowd is calling for our blood to be spilled. They are calling for our deaths.

  Chapter 10

  “This can’t be happening,” June cries and wraps her arms around my waist, squeezing so tightly it almost hurts. She is crying and shaking. I feel like doing the same. I hold her tightly with one arm and clutch my sword with my free hand.

  The cheering is quickly replaced by boos and jeers. I feel an object strike my temple. I touch my hand to my head. A slimy substance coats the spot that was hit. I sniff my fingers. The matter is foul, like spoiled food. I look on the ground and see that a rotten tomato sits at my feet. More moldy and decomposing produce is launched at us. Several pelt my body. But I am less concerned about the putrid fruits and vegetables hurled our way than I am about the humans I see lying in the sand in the distance.

  They do not move, and an expanding pool of crimson surrounds them.

  Riley begins to hyperventilate. “I-I-I can’t breathe,” she gasps.

  Will draws her close. He rubs her back. “Don’t look,” he tells her and guides her face toward his midsection. “Breathe in through your nose until your belly fills then blow out through your lips.”

  The moment is surreal, listening and watching Will comfort Riley about her panting when we are on display in what can only be described as a coliseum similar to the ones I’d learned about in ancient textbooks. I feel as if I am in a dream, the worst dream my brain could possibly conjure.

  The nightmarish sensation multiples tenfold when I see two Urthmen saunter from a doorway, grip the humans by their feet and drag them away, leaving a trail of blood behind as the only reminder of their existence.

  My gaze is pinned on the scarlet streaks until one of the largest Urthmen I have ever seen steps from the shadows across from us. Even though he is not near, it is plain to see that he towers and likely doubles my height. Clad in armor from head to toe, he clutches a long thick sword unlike any I have ever seen before in one hand and a shiny shield in the other. He begins walking toward us.

  I want to scream, to run, to do something, anything, but I am paralyzed by fear.

  The promise of bloodshed quivers through the air like the strike of a finely honed blade, and awareness makes me shudder. The gargantuan Urthman is headed for us. We are armed and expected to fight him as entertainment for those in the arena.

  An Urthman dressed in an ornate, brightly colored costume steps to the center of the round surface we stand upon. A hush befalls the crowd.

  “For our next event,” he begins. “We have this ragtag group of lowly humans. They killed four of our brothers and sisters in the residential area of Elmwood just hours ago.” More booing ensues and is accompanied by a slew of words I have never heard before. I assume they are terrible judging from the hateful expressions on the faces of those screaming them. Taunts and hissing continues until the Urthman at center stage motions with his hands for the crowd to be still. “Let’s see how they handle the Undefeated Champion of the World, a brother who needs no introduction, with more than three hundred kills, please put your hands together for Throm!”

  The beast that loomed has made it to where we are. He raises his arms and the crowd erupts, cheering. Up close, I can see Throm clearly. His oblong head bulges on one side. His eyes are black, but rimmed in ruby-red, and one hangs markedly lower than the other, lending his appearance an aspect of fright that nearly matches his imposing height. He does not have a nose, just holes that are larger and deeper looking that any other Urthman I have had the misfortune of seeing, and his mouth is little more than a cruel slash across the lower half of his face. He rears his hear back and the slash widens to reveal jagged teeth that resemble rows of sharpened arrow tips, and I feel my heart stop mid-beat.

  Throm throws his meaty arms in the air again. One holds a blade and the other a shiny shield. The crowd explodes in a frenzy. They are jumping to their feet and cheering. The noise level rises to the point I fear my ears will bleed. But bleeding ears would be a welcome occurrence next to what Throm has in store for us.

  “Kill them!” a female Urthman screams, her voice beating out the others.

  Throm looks to her and nods. He rolls his head from side to side, his thick neck cracking as he does. Veins protrude from it and run the length of his stubby neck which seems to immediately give way to broad, rounded shoulders. He is a mountain of a being, composed of heaps of thick muscle. And his gaze zeros in on us.

  “Get behind us!” I scream to the children. Will and I stand shoulder to shoulder, though I am certain there is nothing we can do to defend ourselves against Throm.

  Throm advances with speed that betrays his size. My insides plummet to my feet when he is just about on us. I grip my blade with both hands, the ache of bruised fingers suddenly irrelevant, and swing my blade. Throm instantly moves his shield and blocks my swipe with ease. Will makes a similar attempt only to have his blade connect with Throm’s shield as well. Only this time, Throm raises his shielded arm high and brings it down against Will’s body. Will careens through the air and lands hard on the ground. I try to attack, slicing the air with my sword in a pitiful attempt at stopping Throm. My blade meets the armor at his back and causes no damage. I grit my teeth in frustration. The mammoth Urthman is a coward, wrapped in protective metal to prevent a
ny harm from coming his way. Fighting him is like fighting a steel wall.

  I shuffle to my side, careful to keep my body between Throm and the kids, just as he attacks. He hefts his oversized sword and hacks the air laterally. I try to deflect it, but the angle he attacks from is elevated. That and his overwhelming strength cause my stance to falter. His razor-sharp edge slices the flesh at my forearm.

  I howl out in pain and the crowd cheers wildly as my blood dots the white sand below. “Throm! Throm! Throm!” they chant in unison.

  I ignore the sting of my cut and lunge at him. I cleave the air and meet his shield. As my body is outstretched, Throm wastes no time and lances the span between us. The tip of his blade drags across my stomach.

  I immediately feel a warm gush flow from the wound. Blood seeps from it and wets my shirt. Seeing this, the audience becomes frantic with feverish delight. Their chaotic excitement fills the space.

  My vision doubles and becomes bleary. The noise surges and returns in intervals and I fear I will fall. From the corner of my eye, I see Will leap from the ground and charges Throm. Oliver joins his brother, and Riley and June follow. I want to scream for him to stop, for all of them to stop, but all I can focus on is the sudden weight of my sword. I look at it; follow the silvery line of it until my gaze lands on an image of Throm with his blade held high over his head and June just below it. He is about to cleave her in half.

  The sight jolts me into action. With a war cry, I pitch my arms forward, driving my sword high, into his raised arm. My blade only reaches his wrist, but severs his hand from that point. The hand, along with his sword, crashes to the sand below. June races behind me, and Throm howls out, a bloodcurdling sound that shrivels my intestines.

  Every Urthmen watching is on his or her feet. They boo and hiss. When Throm spins toward me though, they clap and seem to regain some of their enthusiasm, but not for long. Will leaps onto Throm’s back and struggles for a moment before his blade is at the beast’s throat. He slices it open and both he and Throm fall to the ground.