Extinction_Planet Urth

by Jennifer Martucci

  “So am I,” I admit. “I’m struggling with how I’ll find my boys and Sully, how I’ll find out if Prince Garan is alive, and how we’ll survive.” The words pour from me as if of their own volition, the confession effortless in the company of a dear friend.

  Reaching out and spanning the space between us, Peter takes my hand in his. He looks at me with tear-filled eyes and says, “Avery, I can only imagine the pain and fear you feel. With my precious Ava asleep and Adele too, they are my world. The thought of not knowing whether they’re safe would be enough to drive me to madness. Not knowing whether they’re alive would kill me.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.

  The tight, weighted feeling in the center of my chest grows more pronounced. “Thank you,” I say without knowing what else to say.

  “How can I help? Do you need to stay here?” Peter asks.

  “I can’t. I need to find my family,” I say determinedly. “I wanted to tell you what happened and to warn you.

  “The Urthmen will come here looking eventually,” June adds.

  I nod, agreeing. “They know we’re friends. Anyone who carried that title is in danger. Anyone who lives, that is.”

  Peter shakes his head as if trying to right his thoughts. “But they don't know that I live here,” he says.

  “Prince Garan does. He might have mentioned it to Cadogan at some point. We have no way of knowing,” I reply. “We have to operate on the assumption that the Prince did tell him so that you’re prepared, right?” My mind has been running nonstop since I left King Garan’s castle. Since the last time I saw William, John and Sully.

  “You can’t stay here. It isn’t safe. No place is safe now,” June says as she leans forward, imploring Peter. “You need to come with us.”

  “I'm not leaving here,” Peter replies firmly. “Adele and the baby can't travel so I need to protect them. We are staying here. And I suggest you do the same.”

  “We can’t. I need to go and try to find my family,” I say, emotion thickening my voice.

  “Where are you going? Where will you look?” Peter asks in a tone far softer than the one he used.

  “The capital. Elian. William, John and Sully will be there if they’re alive.” I nearly choke on the words “if they’re alive”.

  Peter pauses then nods thoughtfully. “How will you get there?” he asks. “You can't travel the roads leading there. You’ll be caught for sure.” His tone is contrite. His gaze keeps wandering from us to the hallway to his left. To where his wife and child sleep.

  “I know,” I reply. “I was hoping you could help. You know the Urthmen territory better than anyone and we need a plan to get to Elian that bypasses all the major roadways. Can you help us figure out a route?”

  Peter’s obsidian eyes glitter with sincerity. “Of course I will help you, Avery. You have saved my life so many times.” He shrugs. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “Thank you,” I say and mean it with all of my heart.

  He sits, leaving us in silence as he thinks for a long time. Eventually, he says, “The only idea I’ve come up with is a nearly impossible one, but if there is anyone who could survive it it's you.” He levels an earnest look at me. “You lived in the forest for half of your life. Both of you.” He looks between June and I.

  “We did,” June nods. Her expression is unreadable. I wonder if she’s recalling what survival in the forest was like compared to living in cities as we have for more than a decade. It is a harsh life. The elements. The creatures. The hunt for food and water.

  “The Great Forest is in between the capital and here. You could cut through it and come out behind them. Behind their troops. They would never see you coming from that direction.”

  “The Great Forest...” I think aloud. “I’ve heard of it I think. It is near here, right?”

  “Not really. You would have to drive a few hours further west and enter from there, where there’s a slight break in the dense tree line.” His gaze grows distant as if envisioning the stretch of land. Then he asks, “Do you have vehicles? You must to have gotten here so fast.”

  “We have motorcycles, but mine is out of fuel,” I say.

  “Mine, too,” June adds.

  “I have fuel. I can fill your tanks. That’s not a problem. And motorcycles are even better than a car or truck. You may even be able to travel through the forest with them if the brush isn't too thick. Plus leaving a car or truck on the side of the road would be the fastest way to announce your presence. The bikes are very good.” Peter unconsciously strokes his chin as he speaks, deep in thought. Then, in a voice that’s grave, he adds, “But it is Lurker territory. Lurkers and who knows what else. No one has even dared to ever travel through it. Not Urthmen and not humans.” He shakes his head, his expression sober. “I don't know how you’ll survive.”

  “Oh my gosh,” June breathes.

  Turning so that I look at her, I tell her with calm and conviction, “We will survive The Great Forest. We will get to Elian and find Sully and the boys.”

  “Avery, it’s not like the forest in which you lived. The Great Forest is something completely different,” Peter says. As if intuiting the question rolling around in my brain like a burr, he adds, “No one’s lived to tell me how it’s different, but anyone who’s camped anywhere near it says the same thing: the forest feels alive.”

  His words cause a shiver of unease to sweep up my spine. I wait for it to pass before I speak.

  Linking a steadfast gaze with Peter’s, I muster the strongest voice I can that won’t wake his wife and newborn baby girl. “We will make it. We have to. But I need a map or something. I need to know where I’m heading.”

  “I’ll take you,” Peter offers. “I’ll take you to the entrance of The Great Forest.”

  “The Great Forest?” a female voice questions. All of us look up to the entryway between the room in which we sit and the hallway. Adele stands holding baby Ava. “What about The Great Forest? What’s going on?” She looks among all of us and no one answers. “Avery? June? What happened?” she asks.

  Peter hesitates. His gaze flickers from me to June then finally to Adele. “A lot has happened, Adele. Too much to tell you about now. But I'll tell you later, I promise.” He smiles at her affectionately. “Please, go back to bed. You shouldn’t be up.” He stands and cups her elbow with one hand as he drapes the other over her shoulder. He tries to shepherd her back to bed. But Adele doesn’t move. “Adele, please. You need your rest.”

  Adele’s eyes plead with Peter before she turns and leaves.

  As soon as Adele is out of earshot, I say to Peter, “You aren't coming with us.”

  “What?” he asks and sits where he was before. “Don’t be silly. Of course I’m coming.”

  “No. You’re not, Peter. Your wife and child need you here,” I say and fight the clench of emotion in my throat.

  “I agree with Avery. There’s no way we are letting you leave them,” June adds.

  Peter sits quietly for a long moment then finally says, “Okay.” He nods. “Okay.” He heaves a sigh as if still wrestling with the decision he’s made. “I’ll draw you a map, and I have a compass. I stand and walk toward a table that has a length of bark pressed so thin it looks and feels almost like fabric. Using a thick piece of charcoal, he sets about drawing a rough map, explaining where to enter the forest that will give us the shortest distance to travel. Though he hasn’t traveled it firsthand, he’s able to diagram The Great Forest. When he’s finished drawing it and explaining it, he hands it to me.

  “Thank you, Peter,” I say.

  “I wish I could do more,” he replies.

  “Don’t. You have your family here. They need you. That’s all that matters. Family is all that matters.”

  “Yeah, Peter,” June says. “We appreciate all that you’ve done. Opening the door for us in the middle of the night, telling us about The Great Forest and mapping it...”

  Peter nods and hugs us both. We follow
him outside and he fills our gas tanks, as well as giving us as much extra fuel as our cargo baskets can carry. He runs back into the house only to return with food and water.

  “Peter, I cannot thank you enough,” I say. I hug him tightly and silently beg the heavens above that I see him again soon. I hope against hope that all of us survive the process of extinction that’s restarted.

  “Anything for you, my friend,” Peter replies.

  June thanks him also.

  “Be safe. I will see you again, my friends,” Peter says.

  “We will see you again,” I promise, drawing deeply upon that hope once more.

  June and I start our motorcycles and allow the engines to warm. Once they have, we leave Peter and a little bit of our past behind and speed off into the night. As we ride away, the hope I harbored deep within me that I’ll see Peter again transforms to a different kind of hope. A simpler one. I hope he lives. I only hope I haven't put him and his family in more danger.

  Chapter 9

  After hours of riding, June and I arrive at the spot that Peter mapped. We turn off the engines of our motorcycles and simply stare, mouths agape. We stand before the entrance to The Great Forest. Towering trees loom, oily and darker than the night sky as they slash at it with sickled boughs. Dawn is still hours away. The moon, round and fat, shines brightly, bathing everything in its wake in harsh, stony light. Thick clouds crawl lazily, just a shade lighter than the deep, inky sky. Gone are the browns, greens and blues of daytime. They’ve been replaced by malevolent silhouettes and shadows. In the span of half of a day, my life has changed irrevocably.

  A shiver runs down my spine as I gaze toward the forest. A gust of wind howls, its mournful bay moaning through skeletal tree limbs. I can feel its frosty breath blow across my flesh and a second shiver, unrelated to the chill breeze, skates over my skin. The bay of a beast is carried on the air. Vague and haunting, it echoes from somewhere deep in the dark heart of the woods. A Lurker, I’m sure. I’d know the sound from any other. It’s imprinted in my brain. Indelibly etched there.

  June retreats a step, busying her hands by braiding her hair at the nape of her neck. Once she’s finished plaiting it, she wraps her arms about her midsection. A tremor shakes her body. “I don’t miss that sound.”

  “Me neither,” I reply.

  “It’s in my head, though. Can’t ever forget it. Especially not after that night we spent in the cave with Will, Oliver and Riley. The howls and the scratching. Remember?” She shudders again.

  “How could I ever forget that night?” I say and shake my head. Even after ten years of peace and living in cities protected by high stone walls with archers perched atop them, neither the Urthmen nor the humans ever devised a plan to exterminate Lurkers. Burrowed deep beneath the ground in the forests, the nocturnal beasts hide with stealth and speed, procreating quickly and avoiding extinction. Hunting in packs, where there’s one, there’s always a half dozen, and no species has ever had success contending with them. All avoid the woodlands at night. We all avoid the Lurkers to survive.

  “I know I never will.” June rubs her upper arms. “We’ll have to wait until the sun rises to set foot in there.” She nods toward the forest entrance.

  “Yeah, there’s no way I’d attempt it now. Bad enough we’ll be trapped in there tomorrow night. I want to cover as much ground as we can on the bikes by day.”

  “I don’t even want to think about what it’s like in there when the sun goes down. Bikes or no bikes. It’s got to be horrific. Especially after what Peter said,” June admits. “No one has ever survived The Great Forest. That’s what he said.” She shivers, her gaze traveling to the forest where another unearthly din rings out, distant but clear. After a long pause, she asks, “Are you sure we should do this.”

  “Not really,” I confess. “But we don’t really have another plan.” I shrug. The peal of more beasts is carried on the wind. June’s eyes remain pinned to the forest. Her brows are gathered and a crease forms between them. It occurs to me then that she shouldn’t make this journey with me. “June, you don’t have to do this,” I say softly. “You can go back. You can ride back to Peter’s.” I reach for the map, intending to hand it to her. “In fact, I’d prefer it if you did.” I don’t dare give the impression that I’m ordering her to go back. After our last conversation on the subject, I choose my words more carefully. She’s an adult now. The choice has to be hers. But I can still make suggestions. “It’s going to be bad in there. From what Peter said the chances of us surviving are nonexistent. I’ll do anything to beat the odds but I can’t guarantee anything. I think you should go back to Peter’s.”

  June’s eyes narrow as she stares at me hard. “Are you kidding me?” she asks. “Do you actually think I’d ever let you go in there alone?” She tosses her thumb over her shoulder toward the coppice. She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “There’s no way I’d let you. If you go, I go. Period.”

  I part my lips to speak despite the tone she used, which left no room for further talk on the subject, but she says, “William and John are my blood too you know. Sully and the boys are my family, too. I want to find them. I want to help.”

  I nod, tears stinging my eyes. “Okay,” is all I say. I swallow hard, composing myself, then reach for the basket in the small storage compartment of my motorcycle. “We should eat now. Once we get moving in there, we’re not going to want to stop.”

  June nods in agreement. I reach into the basket and am surprised to find pieces of dried rabbit and boart meat, fruit and a few root vegetables. We gnaw on the meat and nibble and share an apple until breadths of salmon streak the sky and a blazing disc of fire crests the horizon line to the east. Day is dawning. The time to move has come. We will enter The Great Forest, possibly to meet our demise.

  Eyes cast skyward, June says, “I guess it’s time.” Her words, though stated simply, resonate all the way to my marrow.

  “Yeah,” I say somberly.

  Packing away the rest of the food, I check the sword sheathed at my back. Peter was generous enough to give me his. He knew I’d need it where I was going. June has a quiver filled with arrows at her back and her bowstring nearby. Armed and with little rations and only the fuel in our tanks, we restart our engines and file through a small opening in the trees. We enter The Great Forest.

  Making our way into the woods, the whine of our engines sends creatures scattering. But above the incessant drone, the caw of birds can be heard, as well as the loud churring of insects and branches creaking overhead. The terrain is rough upon entering. A true pathway doesn’t really exist. I know we’ve only just begun our trek through the land but it’s already a challenge. And everything about it feels alive. Dark, rough bark, knotted and furrowed like faces, stand sentinel. Glowering at us as we pass. Low-growing brush reaches out with needle-like talons, clawing and scraping our skin as we pass. With talons in mind, my thoughts immediately center on Lurkers. Their appearance would be impossible considering day has dawned and we aren’t deep in the forest where they burrow anyway. Still, I scan our surroundings and double check out of habit.

  Although night beasts do not roam, the growing glow of the sunlight filtering through the canopy of treetops illuminates frosty fog that clings to branches like snow in some places, while in others it hovers like a spectral being, its ghostly wisps resembling outstretched arms. The lattice of leaves allows thin jets of light to pierce the deep shadow of the woods. Along with patchy pieces of periwinkle-blue sky that can be seen intermittently, they are the only proof that the world beyond the forest walls exists. The overall feeling generated is unsettled.

  The scent of rich earth and rotting leaves is heavy. It blends with a mossy scent, a fungal odor and the musk of animals. A bed of pine needles blankets the ground in places, their scent layered within the others. The deeper we travel into the forest, the more pronounced the smells become.

  Hours pass. The sun, not completely eclipsed by the treetops yet, is overhead. Slivers of it
penetrate the gloom, slicing the shadow and revealing snaking paths carved by creatures I hope to never encounter. Animal spoor is evident. The scent mixes with wet leaves and grows cloying. But before long, another scent takes hold. The distinct scent of dampness mingles with pine, mustiness and spoor, and pervades my nostrils. All around, I look, searching for the source. But I see nothing. Continuing, thin branches lash at my face while thorny bushes and creepers claw at my ankles. I feel the sting of broken skin but do not dare slow much less stop. The forest is watchful. Waiting. I can’t place the exact feeling. The exact sensation. But I feel as though June and I, despite being on motorcycles and moving as quickly as the forest permits, are being watched.

  Cold fear has seeped deep into my body, chilling my blood but doing nothing to bank the hot current shivering down my spine, the inherent need to flee from the unseen predators I fear are stalking us. We continue and cross a small seasonal stream, swollen with leaves and debris, and move deeper into the woods. And as soon as we slog through the muck filled water, we’re immediately swallowed by an abundance of growth. Branches, crisscrossed at every turn, threaten to gouge our eyes. Twisting vines tug at my pant legs, and the thorns of briars tear at my flesh.

  Little by little, however, the entanglement lessens. The earth grows pebbly. And the atmosphere grows increasingly damp. Ahead, June stops, turning off the engine. I follow suit. “We should eat something,” she suggests.

  Shaking from hunger and fear-filled adrenaline, I don’t disagree. I twist and am about to pull the basket from my storage compartment when a sound halts me. Familiar and daunting, images of the map Peter made for us come to mind. The hiss of water. I strain against the ringing in my ears from the incessant drone of the motorcycles and block out the chirp and chatter of animals. It is then that I hear that what began as a hiss has bloomed into the roar of a rushing river. A river that carves through The Great Forest. Peter told us about it. Told us that it spans the entire forest and that there isn’t an alternate route or way around it.