“Will and the others weren’t with us long, just one night before we left the cave and fled the forest. I’d just met them.”
“Hmm.” Sully scratches his chin. “That’s interesting news.” A glimmer of amusement returns to his eyes. He makes a clucking sound with his tongue. “Very interesting.”
“What? What’s interesting?”
“Nothing, nothing.” He attempts coyness.
“Seriously, Sully, you’re going to act timid, really?”
“How do you know I’m not timid?” He feigns offense. “I’m very shy.”
“Yeah, right. Shy. That’s the exact word I’d use to describe you.”
“And you’d be right if you did. Only a shy person such as myself would assume the identity of an Urthman, sit among them in an arena and rescue a gorgeous damsel in distress as she’s about to be slaughtered.”
“Shy, no. Brave and a little crazy, yes.”
Sully head snaps in my direction. “Wait, what did you just say? That I’m brave?”
“And crazy,” I add.
“Maybe instead of crazy you mean dashing.”
“Dashing? What does that mean?”
“Attractive.” He draws out every syllable of the word and makes his brows dip, a naughty smile playing across his lips.
“Nope, I meant crazy.”
“Crazy in a handsome way, I’m sure.”
“No, not at all,” I smile as I reply, though he is handsome.
“Ouch, that was cold. You know, if you do think I’m cute, it’s just the two of us. No one would hear you say it.” He nods over his shoulder to the sleeping group in back before watching me. “We’re all alone with no supervision.”
“Hey, eyes on the road!” I try to sound stern but it’s hard when I’m as happy as I am. We’re in a vehicle and leaving the constant threat of being killed. He’d be hard-pressed to upset me. Even his silly comments and facial expressions are somehow less obnoxious.
“I’m fine, no need to worry. Now back to our discussion.”
“No, no back to our discussion. You need to rest. I can take over if you want.”
Sully yawns, as if on cue. “I’m good for a little bit longer. Then you can take over.”
Silence stretches between us. The only sounds I hear are the sounds of sleeping people and the tires of the camper racing over asphalt.
After a few minutes, I ask, “Is it hard?”
“Is what hard?”
“Driving, steering,” I say and immediately regret my question. It’s just that the camper is so big and the steering wheel is so small. The proportions don’t make sense.
“No, it’s not hard at all. You’ll be fine. Don’t look so nervous.”
I hadn’t realized I looked nervous until I catch sight of my hands in my lap. Squeezing and twisting them so hard the knuckles blanch, I wring both and see how Sully got the idea that I’m anxious. “It’s just so big, the camper is huge.”
“Avery, from what I’ve heard about you, you know, how you’ve killed boarts, Urthmen, monstrous spiders, and a whole slew of other creatures, I’m sure driving will be a breeze. Don’t sweat it. And besides, I’ll be right here with you.”
“Asleep,” I qualify his statement.
“Resting my eyes,” he corrects me.
“Okay, is there a difference?”
Sully’s brow furrows and his lips press together. I worry I’ve offended him. I’m about to ask as much when he begins speaking.
“Avery, there’s something I want to tell you, something I haven’t told the others.”
Stiffening, I brace myself for what promises to be bad news. “Yeah, go ahead.”
“Well, we never loaded the fourth barrel of gas at the warehouse,” he says.
“Okay.” I lean in as I listen, waiting for the rest.
“And we’ve already gone through a full tank.”
I remember refueling earlier, the relevance of him saying as much not quite dawning.
“I’m worried we won’t have enough to get us to New Washington.”
His words sink in my chest like a stone. I hadn’t thought about leaving the fourth barrel of gasoline behind. All I’d worried about in the moments before we tore out of the warehouse property was living long enough to use the fuel we’d just stolen.
“Are you sure?” is all I can think to ask. “I mean, do you know for a fact that we won’t make it without that last barrel.”
“No, I’m not sure, just guessing. I don’t know how many miles per gallon this thing gets and I don’t know the exact distance in miles we have to travel, so I can’t calculate the exact amount of fuel we’d need. All I know is that it’s going to be close for sure.”
I close my eyes and squeeze the bridge of my nose. My overwhelming sense of joy and nothing-can-get-me-down attitude has been upended. What would we do if we ran out of fuel in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but barren land surrounding us? How would we survive? How would I feed June? Despair begins to take hold. Breathing deeply, I battle it back.
“Are you all right?” Sully asks.
“Fine,” I lie. “But do me a favor; let’s not tell the others about this. We don’t know anything for certain. Why worry them when we aren’t positive?”
“Okay.” He eyes me warily. “I can do that.”
“Good. I don’t want to talk about it either. I don’t even want to think about it.” I want to tell him that the idea is too terrifying to consider, that all we’ve been through, all the hope hitched to this trip, might end in disaster is too much to bear.
“You got it,” he agrees, but still maintains an apprehensive expression. Eventually, though, his eyes return to the road. We continue along the highway in silence.
My mood has dampened, a new fear encroaching on the thrill of escaping the life that bound us like chains. This fear is compounded when, in the distance, I see roughly six shapes. Misshapen heads sheathed in nearly transparent skin that do little to cover the expansive, vivid entanglement of veins that web them stand out in the brightening daylight.
“What the heck?” Sully mutters.
“Urthmen,” I state the obvious. “I don’t see a vehicle. They’re just wandering.”
“Good, let them wander then,” he says as we draw closer.
We are upon them and Sully slows slightly. Lidless eyes shrouded in a thick, milky film stare at us. Their shock is plain.
Without warning, a sound blares. It is the camper’s horn.
I snap my head toward Sully and see that his hand is at the center of the steering wheel, depressing it. His other hand is nearly at the windshield, his middle finger erect. “Ha, ha!” he laughs maniacally. “That’s right! This finger is for you!” he shouts at them.
“What’s that mean? That finger you’re holding up, is it a signal of some sort?”
“It’s called ‘the bird’.”
“Which bird?”
“The bird,” he repeats as if I should automatically understand what he means.
“I don’t get it,” I admit.
He shakes his head and smirks. “Forget it. It’s an old signal. It means something bad, okay. Like a curse word.”
“Oh,” I say as thumps echo through the camper. They are the sound of footsteps as Will and Jericho rush toward us.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Will asks. His eyes are puffy and rimmed in dark crescents as they look between Sully and me.
“Nothing. Sorry about that, about the whole horn honking and shouting,” Sully says. “I shouldn’t have done either. You guys were sleeping.”
For once, Sully seems sincere. Sleep is a rare commodity and he knows that better than anyone else.
“So everything’s all right?” Jericho asks to be sure.
“Yeah, we just saw some Urthmen on the side of the road walking,” I answer.
“Urthmen? Where?” June’s frantic voice lances my heart.
She appears, along with Riley, in the space between Will and Jericho. Both girls are wide-eyed, frigh
tened from being startled awake.
“Nothing is wrong, sweetie. I promise. We passed them. They’re gone. Sully just had some fun with them, blowing the horn and making a gesture that means something really rude.”
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“I’m positive. You guys have nothing to worry about.”
“Avery,” Sully says loudly. Alarm laces his words.
“What?” I say as I turn my gaze toward him. In my periphery, I see the road ahead. My head spins, my eyes pinned on what lies before us as a numbing coldness spreads over my flesh. “Oh my gosh,” I breathe.
In front of us, the roadway is blocked. More than a half-dozen broken down cars span the pavement from one end to the next, and trees that begin heavily wooded land acts as a natural barricade beyond the metal barrier in place. Urthmen line them, clubs in hand, as if waiting for something.
“Dammit!” Sully shouts.
“What are they doing there?” Will shouts. “What are they waiting for?”
“Us,” I swallow hard and whisper. “They’re waiting for us.” My heart pumps frenetically. I’m cold, yet a fine sheen of perspiration coats my skin. If we stop, they’ll capture and kill us. “This can’t be.” I am vaguely aware of June and Riley’s cries, of the sudden commotion within the walls of the camper.
A warm hand lands on my shoulder. “Don’t worry,” Sully’s voice transcends the weird muffled quality my hearing has assumed. “We’re not stopping. They’re not getting us.” He squeezes my arm gently before releasing it. He grips the steering wheel with both hands and stomps down on the accelerator. “Everyone in your seats and buckle your seat belts!”
“What’s a seat belt?” June cries.
“It’s the strap sticking out of the lower cushion. Click the metal end into the plastic end and hold on tight. Go, now!” His voice is raised, but he is patient with June, a feat I’m both amazed by and grateful for.
I buckle myself in and feel as if I am now connected to the seat in which I sit. “Is this going to work?”
“All the way to the left I might have enough room between the guardrail and the front of that car.” He points to a narrow space a car wouldn’t likely fit through, much less a house on wheels as he’s driving.
“No way.” I shake my head.
“We’ll see, won’t we?” he replies cryptically.
Awareness that we may not die at the hands of the Urthmen, but in a fiery crash, instead, leaves me dizzy and nauseated. June is all I can think of. She is in back, scared and needing me, and I am tethered to the passenger seat watching a potentially horrific scene unfold as I brace for impact.
Bowling toward them at full speed, the engine of the camper roars in time with the blood thundering in my ears. Urthmen scatter, their hideous faces screwed up in panic and confusion as they realize we aren’t stopping. They dive and dodge for cover, tight mouths wide as orders and shouts are issued.
“Here we go!” Sully shouts.
“Oh my gosh!” I hear myself say.
The camper makes a sharp left, swerving headlong in the direction of the narrow space. But the closer we get, the clearer it becomes our vehicle won’t fit between the car and the guardrail.
“Hold on!” Sully yells as he aims for the gap.
Too wide to make it through the space, the bumper of the camper plows into the front end of the car. A terrible clash of steel and shattering glass explodes all around us. Metal shrieks and angry sparks spray as the impact sends us careening to the right.
The landscape beyond the guardrail rushes at us faster than my mind can comprehend. The needled boughs of an immense pine tree loom just a few hundred feet ahead. We’re about to crash into the barrier and have a head-on collision with the trunk of the tree.
Without a second to spare, Sully jerks the steering wheel to the left, barely avoiding a direct clash with the pine. Braking tires scream. The camper loses control, banking hard to one side until it feels as if we’re driving on only the two wheels on one side.
Wrenching the steering wheel from one side to the next, Sully fights to straighten the camper. A loud crash resounds and suddenly, the vehicle no longer tilts. We are on four wheels once again. The camper straightens out. Sully’s back in control. The Urthmen barricade is behind us.
“Yeah!” Sully drawls. “We did it! Those idiots can’t even block a road right!”
My heart is still racing, but warmth is slowly returning to my body. I take a deep breath to stretch lungs tightened by sheer panic. “Whoa,” I say as I release a trembling breath. “We’re okay. I can’t believe we’re okay.” I turn in my seat to look at the faces behind me, at June and Will, Riley, Oliver, and Jericho. “We made it!” I exclaim.
They exchange cautious glances at first, smiling nervously. But before long, cheers erupt. I find myself swept up in the excitement, clapping and celebrating too. In the back of my mind, however, questions niggle at my brain. Two, in particular, roll through my head like a ball of barbed wire. Is this the only trouble we can expect, or do more roadblocks await us? How did the Urthmen know we were coming? I can’t imagine going through what we just went through again.
Uncertainty sends ice through my veins and encircles my heart in a frosty embrace. Our trip, much like our future, is unclear, and far more dangerous than I imagined.
Chapter 6
Moods soar and the energy level of our group is remarkably high as we continue down the road. Cheers linger and pepper conversations.
“Great job, Sully,” I congratulate his quick thinking.
“Yeah, really,” Will agrees and pats Sully on the back. “I can’t believe we made it through that.”
I’m shocked by the gesture and expect Sully to be as well, but his face is stoic.
“Did you see the looks on their faces as we came barreling down on them,” Oliver says of the Urthmen. “Never thought I’d live to see their little, pebble-like eyes get so big!”
“It was great, wasn’t it?” Will turns his attention to his brother.
Jericho’s deep, velvety voice chimes in, “I loved seeing them dive for cover like the cowards they are!”
Everyone laughs, even me; except Sully.
“What’s wrong?” Jericho asks his friend.
“What’s wrong?” Sully snaps at Jericho uncharacteristically. “You guys don’t see what’s wrong?”
As soon as the words leave his lips I know what’s upsetting him. It’s the same thing that upset me moments earlier. “They knew we were coming,” I say.
All heads turn toward me.
“It was a trap,” Sully agrees. “The roadblock back there, they were waiting for us.”
The focus shifts to him again.
“But how could they possibly know?” Will asks.
A short pause passes. My mind works futilely to answer his question, to think of some link between when we left and when we arrived at the barricade, how they would have found us.
“I have no idea,” Sully answers and interrupts my pointless thoughts. “They must have working radio communications, but how they ever managed to figure out we were on the road is beyond me.”
Silence befalls our group as collectively, we try to connect the dots. The situation doesn’t sit right. A whispered warning races over my skin.
“We need to go back.” The words rush from my mouth before I can even consider the reactions they will draw.
“What? No way!” Will looks as if I’ve just slapped him.
“I’m with Will on this one,” Sully says. “We can’t do that.”
“We don’t have a choice, if we are being followed we have to find out now, before it’s too late,” I say.
“And if they are following us and are not too far behind, we’ll drive right into them. We’ll be dead for sure,” Sully says flatly.
“Avery, no, please we can’t!” June cries out.
Sully smiles smugly. “See, even June bug doesn’t approve.” My features pinch to a point as I glare at him. “What?�
� he asks innocently. “Don’t give me dirty looks. No one thinks we should go.”
“Then I’ll go back by myself.”
“How do you intend to do that?” Will asks
“I’ll take that motorcycle of yours.”
Sully cranes his neck to look at me, his eyes leaving the road momentarily. “What? No way! There’s no way you’re taking my motorcycle!”
“It’s our best chance. Think about it. How much faster is that bike than this camper?”
“Much faster. This thing only goes about fifty miles per hour.” He gestures to the panel in front of him that has a series of numbers with needles affixed at their center. “The bike could double the speed of the camper.”
“So I could easily cover ground and catch up with you after I go back and look?”
“Sure, in theory that’d be easy—” He catches himself and realizes he’s arguing my point. “Hold on a sec, no. You don’t even know how to ride! The answer is no.”
“Sully, I have to do this! If we’re being followed—and I think we are—we need to know so we can do something about it! So we can get off this highway and find a different road.” I rest my hands in my lap and roll my shoulders back. I force myself to speak calmly. “I want to get to the underground city. I want these kids to be safe, for all of us to be safe. In order to do that, we can’t have bands of Urthmen following us, or setting traps for us at every turn.”
Will rubs his chin, contemplating what I’ve said, and Sully’s brows gather. Jericho looks pensive, and Oliver and the girls look worried. I regret making them feel as I have, but I’d rather they feel as they do now than die at the hands of Urthmen.
After passing his hand over his forehead several times, Sully blows out a breath loudly and stuns me by saying, “Fine, I’ll go.” His features are hard, but he knows I’m right, knows what has to be done, and he knows I’ll do it with or without him. “I’ll ride and you can come with me if you want to.”
“No, you need to stay with the kids,” I say. “And who’ll drive?”
“The kids will be safe with Will and Jericho, and Jericho can drive.” He clips his head toward Jericho who nods reluctantly. “The only way you’re going is if I go with you.”
The Underground City (Book 3): Planet Urth, no. 3 Page 6
