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Extinction: Planet Urth, #6

Page 18

by Jennifer Martucci


  I’m exhausted and about to suggest we nap in shifts, even if only for a short while, when a pickup truck rumbles past us. It stops not far from us a bit further down the road.

  “Think we have an opportunity there?” June clips her chin toward the truck and asks.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” I reply.

  June nods in agreement, and we dart towards it. Stealing through the brush and careful to remain silent and unseen, we stop close to the truck but still hidden. June and I watch as two Urthmen stand outside of their vehicle and pass a map back and forth in front of the headlights.

  “I can’t make any sense of this!” the taller of the two says and throws one hand in the air.

  The other snatches it from his hands. “According to this map, we’re going in the wrong direction. We should turn around and head back that way. That’s where the city is.” He tosses his thumb over his shoulder in the direction from which they just came.

  “You’re wrong!” the tall Urthman huffs. “I’ve been this way and I remember stuff.” He looks around and scratches his hairless head.

  “You don’t remember anything!” the shorter Urthman accuses. “You probably don’t even remember what you ate for breakfast.”

  The tall one shakes his head. “Maybe I don’t know what I ate for breakfast, but I do know I don’t want to miss the execution because you can’t read a map!”

  “Oh don’t get all worked up, Tomas! We aren't going to miss it!”

  “If we miss it, DT, you’ll be the next one executed. By me!” Tomas laughs.

  “Stop with your threats. We’ll get there. Wouldn’t miss watching this execution for the world.”

  The word “execution” is mentioned a second time and my heart stops mid-beat. I move out of the darkness, descending on them.

  Sneaking up unseen, I’m as silent as a wraith when I appear behind Tomas, the tall Urthman. His back is to me and DT has come round with the map, standing beside him and pointing to a location upon it. Acting fast, I slam Tomas in the back of the skull with the butt of my sword. The collision makes a loud knocking sound as metal strikes bone. I hit him so hard that he falls to the ground, smacking his head a second time against the paved ground. His eyes roll back in his head and he’s knocked unconscious. I whirl on DT, a feral expression undoubtedly carving my features as I hold my blade out in front of me, daring him to move.

  He’s frozen in place, still holding the map.

  “It's upside down, you idiot!” I say as I look at the upside down map.

  “Huh?” DT screws up his hideous features.

  “The map! The map is upside down!” I hiss.

  He stares at me, wordless.

  “Never mind.” The map is not what I confronted them about. The map is the least of my concerns. “What execution?” I demand.

  DT remains silent.

  Fury bubbles within me, blistering to the surface of my skin like molten lava on the verge of venting. “I said what execution!” I grind out the words through my teeth, my grip so hard on the hilt of my sword my nails bite into the skin on my palms.

  Smirking and revealing tiny pointed teeth that are brown and uneven, the Urthman says, “I'm not telling you a thing, human.” He spits the word human. It’s a sound I never thought I’d hear again, the utterance of my species’ name as though it’s the ultimate insult.

  With my eyes never leaving DT, I turn my blade and plunge it into the heart of Tomas, the Urthman lying on the ground unconscious. Blood pools around his inert body, seeping from him along with his life force.

  Mouth falling open, the map slips from DT’s hands. He trembles visibly and looks aghast.

  “I asked you a question,” I turn the blade on him.

  “T-the e-execution of the family,” he blurts the words.

  “The family?” I demand, the deadly tip of my blade hovering over the left side of his chest.

  “The family of the fallen human leader!” he cries. Terror lurks in the depths of his murky gaze.

  But I care little about the sound of his voice or his fear. All I can hear is a distinct ringing in my ears. Piercing. Deafening. It drowns out all other sounds. My children and husband are set to be executed. My babies...

  “A public execution?” I can barely choke the words out. Still I glower at him unflinchingly.

  “Yes,” DT replies.

  “Why?” I demand.

  “T-to celebrate the beginning of a new era,” DT replies. “Please don’t kill me!”

  “Where?” My eyes bore a hole straight through his skull. Concentrated and hate-filled.

  “T-Town center in Elian,” he says. His voice quivers and he’s lost control of his bladder. “P-please don’t kill me!” he starts to cry. “I told you all I know.”

  “One more question and I promise I won't kill you,” I say. “Where is the former prince? Prince Garan?”

  Sobs rack his body. He blubbers and splutters. A blob of snot burbles from the holes in his face where a nose should be and mixes with the tears. The result is a nasty, wet slop that coats his mouth and chin and bubbles when he says, “No one knows.” He carries on for several minutes before he says, “You-you said you wouldn’t kill me.” He looks at me, pleading. Begging for sympathy.

  Too bad I don’t have any for him.

  “I won't,” I say. I turn and nod toward the darkened tree line to our side.

  In the space of a breath, an arrow flies from the shadows and sticks in his neck. A second follows it and lodges in the left side of his chest, piercing his heart.

  June steps out from the darkness. Without a word, she grabs Tomas’s feet. I grab his arms. Together, we drag him into the woods and hide his body. We do the same with DT.

  When both Urthmen corpses have been sufficiently hidden, I stand for a moment. Limbs trembling from exertion, exhaustion and more than anything else, the horrific knowledge that at the Town Center in Elian, my beautiful baby boys and my husband are slated to be killed before an audience of Urthmen.

  Turning, my body seeks to expel the contents of my stomach. Heaving several times, I feel as though my eyeballs bulge and that every muscle around my tongue has been pulled.

  June rubs my back. “Are you okay?”

  “I-I’m sorry,” I say. “I'm sorry I asked you to do that.”

  June grips my shoulders and turns me to face her. “Avery, those two were excited to go and watch the execution of your children and your husband. Do you think I felt one bit bad? They’re my family, too.”

  I nod. I pull my canteen out and sip my water. “We need to get to Elian.”

  June leads the way back to the road. She stoops and retrieves the map from the ground then slips behind the steering wheel of the truck. Following the map, we drive for a few hours. All the while, my focus is singular. My children. Sully. All I can see is their faces until the lights of Elian become apparent and glare at me through the windshield. Peering through the glass, I’m met with an eerie feeling of having already experienced my current situation. The area looks so familiar. It takes me a moment to realize why. Then it dawns on me. The city of Elian has elements of both Washington Central and Agroth. Leading here, we followed a long gravel path with little more than communication posts interspersed among sheds on either side it. I wondered whether I’d made a mistake, whether I’d missed a landmark on the map and guided June to the wrong place. But after a short time, the gravel gave way to a paved trail. Tiled with smooth stones of pastel colors, they look as if they’ve been polished to a high shine. Lamplight glows softly from posts positioned at even intervals and highlights the lovely palette of colors. Stout buildings of pale gray stone line the road. They do not grow taller, however. They remain consistent, and are overshadowed by a structure in the distance at the end of the pathway. A structure that could very well eclipse the sun.

  Far larger than the castle in Washington Central or the residence from which Dhaval reigned and composed entirely of stone as dark and glossy as obsidian, th
is one sits at the summit of a steep road, I can barely make out the peaks of the massive black castle. Soaring spires disappear into the night sky, puncturing it as it looms, foreboding, intimidating in its sprawling height and width. A sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me that’s where my family is. Inside the castle that is a nightmare personified.

  Pulling off the path, we hide the truck inasmuch as we can among several others in a dark alleyway. We slip out, pulling the hoods of our shirts over our heads, and continue on foot, hidden in the shadows. Though Elian isn’t teeming with people as Agroth did and isn’t nearly as populated, a buzz hums in the air. A frenetic energy that’s palpable.

  Many vehicles move about, passing us frequently and making the need to stay hidden our main priority.

  “This place has a feel to it,” June whispers to me.

  “I know,” I whisper back. “Like we’re tiptoeing through a pack of sleeping Night Lurkers and the sun is about to be swallowed by the horizon.”

  She turns and looks at me, holding my gaze. “Yes,” she agrees soberly. “That castle.” She shivers. Already the shadows of it are being cast over us. This close, I can see that a gate encircles it and guards walk its perimeter. “It feels like it’s watching us.”

  Instinctively, I move closer to the area to June’s left that has a narrow strip of shrubbery. Decorative and not remotely as concealing as the forest border by the road, it will have to do.

  “Keep your head down,” I remind her. “And keep your hood low.”

  She nods in agreement and pulls her hood lower on her forehead so that it veils her eyes.

  We remain as we are, cloaked in shadows and concealed inasmuch as we can be by the meager bushes. We make our way up the steep hill, at the top of which the castle sits. Though the interior glows with pale light, causing the windows to glow like eerie sightless eyes, the perimeter of the castle is not well-lit at all. All that can be seen are guards carrying torches and casually surveilling the space. They laugh and shout to one another, moving at an unhurried pace. But the presence of the Urthmen guards walking the property as if taking a languid, leisurely walk is not what surprises me. And it isn’t the fact that we’ve made it this far without being killed or accosted. After all, they slaughtered their opponents. Humans, unsuspecting and believing the Peace Treaty was in effect and being celebrated, were unarmed and unprepared. Killing them was as easy as killing fish in a barrel. They have no reason to rush or search intensely.

  Or so they think.

  What shocks me is that as we continue toward the rear of the castle, we discover that a second building exists on the property. Far brighter than the castle and the surrounding area, the property here is not only abounding with light, it’s also abounding with men and women. Human men and women. They move about freely, without shackles or Urthmen supervision.

  Gasping, June turns to look at me. The expression she wears is shocked and confused. “I can’t believe it,” she whispers.

  I can’t either. The men and women are all clad in long white robes. They each have their head shaved. And they all bear a symbol upon their forehead. It’s hard to decipher what the marking is, but it’s there, as if it’s been carved into their skin.

  “What is going on here,” I whisper more to myself than June.

  “I don’t understand what I’m seeing,” June whispers back to me.

  “Me, neither. It doesn’t make sense,” I reply. I study the movement of the humans. They’re unfettered and unsupervised, but there’s an orderliness to their behavior. A wooden way in which they move. “The Urthmen killed everyone I thought. Everyone in all the human cities.”

  “But they didn’t.” June gestures to the robe-clad people.

  “I see that.” I shake my head. “Apparently, they saved a bunch as what? Entertainment? Servants?”

  “I don’t know,” June says. “They’re here, so it can’t be good.”

  She’s right. “All dressed alike and branded, they may very well be here for the sadistic pleasure of the Urthmen,” I say with disgust.

  June shivers. “You’re probably right.” Her gaze bounces from the humans to the sky. “The sun will be up before you know it.”

  The sky is brightening, transitioning from an inky abyss to navy blue with patches of electric blue to the east near the horizon. Daylight is fast approaching, and we don’t have a plan. I sense that June is indirectly asking for one. I share with her the only thought I have. Our only real option.

  “I know,” I say. “I think we should monitor the gate closely, stick around and watch to time the pattern of the guards that patrol it.”

  “They seem very laid-back. And walking the perimeter isn’t the most effective way to secure a space.”

  “No, it isn’t,” I agree. “Especially when you’re not at an elevated point.” I recall the guards we had along the wall at Cassowary. Alert and spaced at regular intervals, they had a complete view of the surrounding area from every angle. “We figure out their pattern and in the time between their pass and the next group’s, we climb the fence and go in.”

  June stares at me for a long moment. “Okay,” she says finally.

  We move back into the shadow between the castle and the second building, careful to remain crouched and hidden. We watch the guards, studying their buffoonish, lackadaisical behavior until we have it down pat. As soon as a group passes, we know we have a few minutes before the next will come around.

  “Now,” I whisper to June, and we both scale the fence. As soon as we land, we dart across the grass toward the structure where the humans are coming and going and manage to make it to the massive wooden door at its westerly side unseen.

  Panting from anxiety and exertion, my hand trembles when I reach for the black wrought-iron handle of the door with it. Squeezing my eyes shut and begging the universe for the impossible—for it to be open—I twist my wrist.

  My eyes snap open in complete surprise when the turn is met without resistance. The door is unlocked.

  Fear saturates every cell in my body. Is this a trap? Have we been spotted and baited into an epic Urthmen snare? Or are the Urthmen just so lax with security? June and I will find out now. Staring at June and conveying love, appreciation and fear for her, I inhale and hold my breath in my lungs as I push the door forward, sliding my foot into a space that could be filled with armed Urthmen. I could be opening the door to our deaths.

  Chapter 16

  Heart pounding a frantic rhythm in my ears, I can barely hear our footsteps echo hollowly down the long, empty hallway. Fearing it’s the sound of our death march, I slow, sliding my feet to silence their noise. But another sound causes my feet to halt. I turn to June. Brows raised and eyes wide, she looks away from me and clips her head toward a conversation in the distance. At least three distinct voices ring out. Undoubtedly human, they’re animated. Male and females voices rise and fall, their tone excited, but not angry. And they’re growing louder by the second. Advancing.

  “This way,” I mouth to June as I point with a trembling finger to a staircase to the right. The sound of humans should soothe me. I don’t know why I’m running from them. After all, they’re not Urthmen. But for reasons that elude me at the moment, the humans here terrify me more than the Urthmen. Their presence on this property perplexes me almost as much as it unsettles me.

  Voices grow louder and closer, I hear the word “execution” again as I dart to the right with June just a few steps behind me. The word explodes in my lifeblood like jagged shards. I halt for a split-second, my feet at war with my brain. With what I know I must do. But what I want to do has briefly taken hold of my legs. I want to turn and rush down the hall toward the voices. I want to find the sources of them and punish them for discussing the execution of my children and husband. For laughing as they speak of it. I want to unleash the avalanche of anger, fear and hurt that is barely held at bay within me. But I can’t. Doing so will not serve William, John and Sully.

  “Avery?” June wh
ispers my name, her tone imploring me to move.

  Biting the inside of my cheek so hard my mouth fills with blood, I turn away from the approaching humans and run. I have no idea where I’m going or what exactly I expect to find upstairs. The hope is to find my sons and husband. But that would be too easy. That would be a dream come true. I’m certainly not counting on it, still I move with urgency, taking the steps two at a time until I reach the second floor with June in tow. Ahead of us is another long hallway, longer than the one below, and lined with doors on either side. I trade glances with June. She nods and we steal down the passageway, scanning our surroundings every step of the way.

  When we are midway down, the sound of a handle turning and a door creaking open startles me. Recoiling, I reach a hand out instinctively and grab June’s arm, stopping her and yanking her back. She shoots me a look of consternation as we flatten our backs to the wall. Heart drilling my ribcage, I wait with bated breath when over the threshold steps a human, a girl by the curve of her silhouette, which cannot be hidden by the draping robe. Distracted, she turns to pull the door closed. This close, I can tell that the marking on her forehead is a “C” with a circle around it. The skin is raised and pink and suggests that the mark was carved into her flesh. She lifts her gaze from the handle, her eyes flitting from it to us then back to it before the fact that she saw June and I truly registers. Her eyes return to us, rounding in shock. She opens her mouth to scream. Panicking and with a fraction of a second to act, I close the distance between us, descending on her. I clap my hand over her mouth and push her backward.

  Turning the handle, I force her back into the room from which she exited. June closes the door behind us quietly, looking left then right down the hallway in either direction first.

  Beneath the firm grip of my hand, the girl tries to yell, her breath hot against my palm.

  Seeing the girl struggle, June spins and draws an arrow in her bow in the space of a breath. Pulled taut and aimed at the girl, she says in a low voice that shivers with the promise of violence, “If you make a sound, I’ll put an arrow through your heart. Nod once if you understand me.” Muscles in her shoulders and arms flexed and posture ramrod straight, my sister is as deadly as she is beautiful.

 

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