Dark Reality 7-Book Boxed Set

by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

Chapter 13

  I watch as Will transforms before my eyes. I know he is grieving, that he is hurting in a way that cannot be expressed aptly. But I see the change he is undergoing. His posture straightens. He extends his long, sculpted arms to Oliver and Riley. They rush to him, fall into him, and he envelops them. I see cords of muscle bunch and flex as he embraces them tightly. The black sleeveless shirt he wears dampens from their tears. He whisks away his own tears with the back of his hand, then turns and looks toward June and I. His light blue-green irises glow brighter than when I saw them the day before. Their color pales against the reddened whites of his eyes. His gaze locks on me and the air suddenly leaves my lungs. I don’t know why I feel this way and hope I am not falling ill. I give him a small smile and watch as the sun-kissed skin at his cheekbones deepens in color. I worry that I have embarrassed him by witnessing the raw emotions flowing between him and his siblings, or that perhaps my smile was misunderstood somehow.

  I turn so that I am no longer facing Will and his brother and sister. I do not want to intrude on the very painful, emotional moment he is sharing with them. I also know that he is in the process of assuming a new role, that part of his change includes surrendering any semblance of a childhood or any shred of youth he ever held. He is in charge now. He is the person Oliver and Riley will turn to. And he knows it. He is being strong for them, comforting them, and putting on a brave face when he is sadder and more terrified than he has ever been in his life.

  I just met Will, but I know him better than he thinks. I know exactly what he is doing, what he is going through. I have done and been through it myself. I wish I could make it easier for him. Losing a parent is bad enough. But watching them lose their life is quite another experience, a horrendous one that will be branded in his memory forever.

  “I feel so bad for them,” June whispers to me. “What they went through, it’s just awful.”

  June does not recall our mother being murdered by Urthmen while we watched. She only remembers our father’s gentle passing. She is lucky. I can close my eyes and relive it all.

  I do not share that detail with her. Instead, I reply, “Me too.” Then add, “It is a terrible thing to watch your parents die,” with sadness so profound it causes my voice to falter. “We will help them though. We will take them back to our cave with us and figure out a plan. But no matter what, we will help them.” I rub June’s back softly and she leans into me. Her head whips toward Will and his siblings when Oliver’s voice rings out.

  “No! I won’t calm down! Those monsters killed Mom and Dad!” Oliver nearly shouts then breaks away from Will and Riley. He races to the Urthman closest to us and kicks the corpse. “I hate you! I hate you all!” he cries. Spittle sprays from his mouth. He is sobbing and yelling at the same time. He turns and picks up a good-sized stone. He hoists it over his head.

  But before he brings it crashing against the dead Urthman’s lopsided head, Will quickly covers the distance between them and circles his arms around Oliver, pinning his arms to his waist. The stone tumbles from his grip and lands on the ground by his feet.

  “It’s okay, Oliver,” Will says soothingly. “Just calm down. Everything is going to be okay.”

  Oliver’s lower lip begins to quiver and tears pour from his eyes. “Nothing is okay, Will,” he barely manages then turns and buries his face in Will’s midsection.

  “I know, I know,” Will says and holds his brother tightly. Pain is etched in his features. Everything he is feeling is visible just below the surface of his expression. I see it plainly and resist the urge to go to him and throw my arms around him, just as he is doing with Oliver. My muscles twitch, urging me to take the first step toward him without my mind’s permission, but a gentle squeeze at my hand holds me back.

  June’s small hand grips mine firmly for a moment then releases it. I wonder whether she sensed my movement and guessed what I was about to do, or whether seeing firsthand what Will is going through with his brother and sister is giving her insight into what life has been like for me. Either way I stay where I am and wait until the crying subsides before reminding everyone that we need to leave immediately. About a dozen Urthmen stormed Will’s family. I doubt they were acting alone. More will follow. I do not want to chance being ambushed out in the open as we are now.

  I clear my throat. “Uh, Will, I’m sorry to, uh, interrupt, but we need to leave as soon as possible.” Will trains his aquamarine eyes on me and an odd quiver passes through my belly. “They know we’re here,” I say of the Urthmen. “There will be more. The ones at the lake might even be part of a bigger team that split up. They could be on us at any minute.”

  Will’s dark brows gather. His gaze hardens. “No,” he says resolutely.

  His refusal throws me almost as much as his expression.

  “No?” I feel my features scrunch as they showcase my complete confusion.

  “No!” he says heatedly.

  Blood rushes to my face, and I am certain it is the color of a crimson rose petal. “What do you mean no?” I ask and blink back the hot, unexpected tears searing the backs of my eyelids. Does he have a sudden death wish? And why does he seem so angry with me? Each cell in my body is firing at once. I do not know what he will say next, whether he will shout at me or speak sharply to me again. I do not know why I care if he does or doesn’t, but I do.

  “I am not leaving my parents here,” he says softly. He features have smoothed. He no longer looks as he did seconds earlier. He looks vulnerable.

  I feel the color drain from my cheeks.

  “I won’t leave them here for Urthmen to take and put their heads on spikes,” he grits through his teeth. “Or leave them here to be devoured by the creatures that come out at night.”

  “The Lurkers,” I practically spit when I angrily mumble their name under my breath.

  “The what?” Will shocks me by asking.

  He heard me. My head feels engulfed in flames. I don’t know the technical name for the beasts that roam the woods when the sun sets. I know what they were once called. And I know what my father called them, what I still call them.

  I shift uncomfortably under the weight of Will’s stare. “We call them Lurkers,” I say and nod.

  “Lurkers?” Will asks, and I wait for him to mock the name, to mock me.

  “Yes,” I say, and twist the hem of my shirt with my hand. I am waiting for him to tell me how idiotic the name is, how babyish and laughable it is. I brace for it when he parts his lips to speak.

  “Huh, makes sense, Lurkers, and I did figure that’s what you meant when you mentioned them yesterday.” He nods. “They’re always out there in the night, lurking and waiting.”

  I nod, awkward silence hangs in the air like a bank of fog.

  “What do you call them?” June’s voice chimes like a bell. She has not seen or spoken to another human being besides myself and my father in her entire life, yet she has better social skills than I do. “Do you have a name for them?”

  Will smiles the saddest smile I have ever seen. His eyes are focused on a distant point. “My mom and dad called them Prowlers,” he says with a hollow, cheerless chuckle.

  “Sounds as if they thought like our dad used to think,” June says with respect in her voice that exceeds her eight years of life by decades.

  Will’s gaze leaves its far-off focal point and lands directly on June before flickering to me. “What happened to your father?”

  I am unsure of whom he has asked, but I answer anyway. “He passed last year,” I say and feel guilty for the strain in my voice, because while we did lose him, his death was a serene passing compared to the butchery Will and his brother and sister just saw.

  “I’m sorry,” Will says with genuine remorse. “What about your mom, is she,” he hesitates for several beats, “alive?”

  I swallow hard. I do not know how to answer his quest
ion without upsetting an already sensitive and sore situation. I stare into the distance. I take a deep breath, and then hear the words spill from me freely, gushing like blood from an open wound. “She was killed by Urthmen. She was pregnant and running with me and June in a tunnel beneath a village we used to live in with our parents and they killed her right in front of us,” I say in one breath. I see it again, see the brutality in my mind’s eye as if it is happening in front of me a second time. “She begged them not to kill her, begged them, but they showed her no mercy. They did not care one bit. She was nothing to them. They killed her. June was a toddler and I was holding her. I saw it all. I saw them beat her to death.”

  I have let go of June’s hand. My fists are clenched tightly at my sides, and my breathing is short and shallow. I look up and see that Will is speechless and so is June. I have never spoken of what happened the night our mother was murdered. Our father had told her what had happened, but I could never bring myself to speak of it. I have held it inside me for years, bearing the burden of an unspeakable scar alone; until now. Now was the most inappropriate time ever to suddenly feel the need to share, and I hadn’t wanted to. The words rushed from me as if of their own accord. I have had time to grieve. Will, Oliver, and Riley have not. Their parents were both just murdered right in front of them and they are reeling from loss and shock. And I had the audacity to blurt out my sad story! Perhaps it has been for the best that I haven’t met another human in some time. I wish the earth would swallow me whole, or that I could disappear, disperse like grains of sand in the wind. But I cannot do either. I am stuck, left to stew in my embarrassing outburst.

  Just when I feel as if I will die of shame, Will says, “I am so sorry, Avery.”

  I want to shout that I am the one who is sorry, that he does not owe me words of consolation. It is quite the opposite. I have been through what he is going through and because of that, I should have known better than to open my big mouth. I cringe and shake my head slightly. His eyes are on me, and he sees it. I know he does. He sees how mortified I am. June wraps both arms around my waist. My body is slick with sweat and she feels like a hot rock plastered against me. But I do not dare move. I will not take the lead yet.

  “We are going to go and bury my parents,” Will says solemnly.

  “Would you like us to help?” June offers. “Or would you like privacy?”

  Again, I am astounded by her poise and tact. She grows more amazing with each minute that passes. I realize I have so much to learn from her.

  Will smiles at June tightly. “Thank you for offering to help, but I think Oliver and I can handle it. But if Riley wants to stay with you, can she?” he asks.

  “Absolutely,” June answers brightly without missing a beat.

  Will turns to face Riley. “Would you like to stay here with Avery and June?” he asks. “Oliver and I are going back to the lake. We have to take care of Mom and Dad’s remains.”

  Riley’s eyes are wide and frightened. “I-I don’t want to see them as they are now. I want to see them how they used to look,” she says through tears. “But I want to stay with you.”

  “Then I will carry you and cover your eyes and you can wait in the cave while we work,” Will says tenderly. “Whatever you need me to do I’ll do, okay?”

  Riley bobs her head and lifts her arms to him. Will scoops her up. “We won’t be too long,” he says before turning and going back to the lake.

  When he is a far enough distance away and out of earshot, I drop my arms then slap my hand against my forehead. “I can’t believe what a jerk I was,” I say with a groan.

  “Avery, I don’t think what you said upset him. If anything, knowing he’s not alone will help him.”

  I hadn’t thought of that possibility. I just assumed that my blabbing would have nothing but negative effects all around. And while I am not totally convinced of June’s theory, I find it helpful.

  “Maybe,” I say with the exact amount of uncertainty I feel. “Still, I can’t believe I said all that. I mean, talk about terrible timing.” I shake my head.

  “Yeah, well, maybe the timing would have been better if you waited until later or tomorrow, but as I said before, I think you did more good than harm,” June says.

  I am astounded and impressed by her wisdom. “June, are you sure you’re only eight?” I ask in another unfiltered, random bout of blather.

  June giggles. It is a sweet sound that reminds me of when she was little.

  I smile at her. “After all you went through yesterday, last night, and today, I am amazed by how well you are holding up,” I admit honestly.

  With shining eyes in a powdery-blue shade that rivals the sky on a clear day, she tips her chin and looks directly at me. “I had a really great role model who taught me to deal with what life throws at me.”

  “Yeah, Dad was pretty great, wasn’t he?” I think of how levelheaded he always was, how calm and in control he remained at all times.

  “I am talking about you!” she says and smacks me on my arm lightly. She stomps her foot then places both hands on her hips. “Sheesh, don’t you even know how to take a compliment?” she asks me exasperatedly.

  I am taken aback by what she has said. “Me? I’m the role model you’re talking about?”

  “Yes, you dope! Who else would I be talking about? I was looking right at you.” She throws her hands in the air. They land against her thighs with a slapping sound.

  “First of all, where the heck did you get your temper from? And second of all, I thought you were talking about Dad because I am not half the role model he was. I kept everything bottled up forever, remember? I was too afraid to tell you anything,” I say then add, “and I am not a dope.”

  I wait for June to erupt and unleash the last few days’ worth of fear and anger on me. But she does not. In fact, her face is serene.

  “You’re right,” June says. Every bit of fire in her voice is extinguished. “You are not a dope. Not at all, in fact. You are smart and strong and an amazing hunter and an even more amazing fighter. You can do anything you set your mind to, Avery. And you take good care of me. All those things make you someone to look up to, the person I look up to and want to be like.”

  My throat tightens and my eyes burn again, but this time they are not tears born of sadness or shame, anger or frustration. This time, they are tears of gratitude, and pride.

  “Thank you,” I say in an unsteady voice.

  “No,” June says. “Thank you.”

  I allow a moment to pass between us as I blink feverishly and try to keep from crying.

  “My pleasure,” I barely manage.

  June smiles broadly then turns toward the lake. I take a moment to compose myself and at the same time, scan the woods for any sign of Urthmen. All seems quiet for now, but the day is slipping from us. I did not realize so much time had passed. Will and his brother and sister have been gone for a while, and June and I have been talking for quite some time. Time feels as though it is ticking faster than ever. We need to leave as soon as possible. We need to hurry if we want to make it to the cave before the Lurkers come out.

  “It looks like they are almost done down there,” June says quietly.

  I breathe a silent sigh of relief. I do not mean to be disrespectful in my thoughts, but the world we live in does not provide us time for anything. We are always running from something horrible, hoping we are headed toward something that will bring us comfort and solace. Moments of peace are rare and precious. And they do not last long.

  Will, Oliver, and Riley head up the hill with some of their belongings. Their moment has ended, and a new one begins.

  “Are you ready?” I ask Will.

  “I guess so,” he replies after a deep breath.

  I want to reach out and touch his arm and tell him that he will be okay, that his brother and sister will make it through this. B
ut now is not the time, and standing in the middle of the woods where Urthmen just struck is certainly not the place.

  “All right then you guys can just follow us,” I say with a weak smile and wave them on.

  We walk and backtrack the trail June and I traveled to get to the lake. Our pace is brisk and I notice that Will is as vigilant as I am. His eyes sweep the landscape continually. The forest is filled with ordinary sounds. Birds flit from treetop to treetop. Leaves rustle, and squirrels and chipmunks scurry across our paths. The only added sound is the pleasant lilt of June’s voice as she tries to make conversation with Oliver and Riley.

  “Our cave is not huge or anything. It is cozy. And Avery and I have candles made from beeswax that we use at night. She usually leaves them lit until I fall asleep,” I hear her say.

  I strain to watch Will from the corner of my eye. A tiny smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. His smile becomes contagious. I feel a similar one begin to make its way across my lips. June has a charm about her that I never knew existed. And how could I have? We’ve been isolated for her entire life. Her gift has been kept under wraps. Now, though, as we walk and I hear her working her magic on Oliver and Riley, getting them to respond with tones that are remarkably upbeat considering their circumstances, I am blown away by her. She is my new role model in that regard. I will look to her when hoping for pointers on how to win them over and help them.

  We continue at our hurried speed and June captivates Will’s brother and sister with her magnetic personality. She has described our cave inside and out, has told them about the river we go to every morning and her incident with the boart that led to my incident with the mother boart. I notice she is careful to leave out the part about me getting entangled and almost eaten by the spidery monster and the Lurkers that we barely escaped. Neither Oliver nor Riley need to hear a story as disturbing as the one that unfolded last night. Even I would prefer not to hear it. The memory is just too frightening to relive. I can only hope that the Lurkers have moved on, that they don’t return again tonight.

  When we reach what I believe is the halfway point of our journey, I slow and take a quick glance at the children. The conversations have ended and the three of them look tired. I look at Will and take my cue from his expression.

  “I don’t know about everyone else, but I need to stop and rest my feet for a minute,” I say.

  “Me too. Who else is with us?” Will asks.

  June, Oliver and Riley raise their hands.

  “It is unanimous, I guess,” he says to me.

  “Okay, how about we rest over there by those big flat rocks,” I say and point to a pair of stones that jut from the earth and are surrounded by bushes dotted with plump, yellowish-red berries.

  The children do not need to be told twice. They scramble for the opportunity to sit and beat Will and me there. The three of them sit on one rock while the other remains empty.

  Will sits first and slips the straps of his backpack from his shoulders. He places it between his feet and looks at me. My feet are throbbing and I want to sit, but the thought of being so close to him makes my insides tremble like leaves in a windstorm. But exhaustion triumphs and I make my way to the rock slowly before sitting.

  I notice his scent right away. Unfamiliar but pleasant and welcome, I am suddenly filled with his musk-and-sunshine scent.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” he says and tears me away from the strange joy I am reveling in from simply sitting next to him.

  I pause for a moment and need to remind myself what he is talking about. I do not know why my mind feels so scrambled.

  “I don’t know how to do what my parents did, you know? I don’t know what to do for Oliver and Riley,” he says quietly.

  “You did great back at the lake when Oliver was about to smash the Urthman,” I say and feel as though the sun is blazing down on me from overhead when it is not.

  My clothes cling to my body. My skin is suddenly damp with perspiration. My calves complain from trekking all day as I tuck one leg under my bottom. I am suddenly very aware of Will’s close proximity. He reaches for his backpack and unzips it. As he does, his forearm brushes mine. His skin is fiery against mine, unexpected and yet so deliciously welcome despite the fact that I am perspiring as though I have been running in midday summer sun. I scoot aside ever so slightly, away from Will, for fear I will burst into flames if his skin touches mine again. I am suddenly parched. I reach for my canteen.

  As my fingertips graze the hard exterior, my thirst burgeons. I quickly open it and bring it to my lips. Cold water trickles down my throat as I greedily gulp. It is refreshing and cools me from the inside out. Some dribbles from the corner of my mouth. I try to whisk away the droplets with the back of my hand without Will noticing. I glance at him quickly and see that he drinks from his water bottle, too, but is far more refined about it, sipping rather than swigging as I did. When he finishes, he turns to face me. He bends his leg as he twists his body and his knee rests against my thigh. I feel heat bloom across my cheeks.

  “How did you do it?” he asks. “How did you care for June all by yourself for the last year?”

  I consider his question briefly before answering. “Truthfully, I have no idea. I know that’s probably not the answer you want to hear, but I just woke up every morning and did it. I rarely have a plan for anything. I take one day at a time, and some days, it feels like I can only take one breath at a time,” I admit. I hope I have made sense and that I have not said too much.

  “Yeah, I understand what you mean,” he says and looks directly into my eyes.

  I am lost in the swells of pastel blue and green as they blend seamlessly and undulate like ripples on a still lake. I have to remind myself to blink, to breathe. The moment quickly becomes one that I can only take a single quivering breath at a time. Words escape me and my heart plucks away at an unsteady rhythm inside my chest.

  Will scrubs his face with both hands and the hypnotic spell of his eyes is broken.

  “I just, I just can’t believe they’re gone,” he says and his voice cracks. “One minute my family was happy and fine and the next. . .” He allows his sentence to trail off.

  Sadly, I know exactly what he is talking about, what he is feeling. “I know,” I whisper.

  “The hurt,” he begins, but his ability to speak is strangled by loss.

  My hand darts out, acting without the authorization of my brain, and touches his forearm. His skin looks exactly as it feels: rich, almost velvety. He is hurting, suffering, and I know that my thoughts about his skin and the fact that I am touching him is inappropriate, but I am inexplicably powerless to stop myself. I want to comfort him, but do not know how. Words of consolation do not exist in the English language for what he and his brother and sister have been through.

  He looks at my hand on his arm then to my face. Heat zips like a laser beam from his eyes to my cheeks and sets them afire. I start to pull my hand away and am shocked when his long, slender fingers cover my hand and keep it there. My pulse quickens and a peculiar rush similar to hope gushes through my veins.

  “How do you work around it? How do you get through it and take care of June? Right now I can’t imagine anything other than how I feel right now.”

  His grip on the top of my hand tightens and I worry that when I try to speak, my words will come out in one breathless jumble.

  “It wasn’t easy,” I say honestly. “I mean, after seeing my mom,” I cannot say the word “killed.” I clear my throat and continue. “I still had my dad. But once he passed we were on our own.”

  Will lowers his head. “Oh,” is all he says feebly.

  “You will figure it out. You’ve already started. I saw it back at the lake,” I say. “And I will help any way I can,” I add.

  He lifts his chin and looks at me. “Thanks,” he says and offers a small, pained smile. He looks to the
sky and I follow his eyes.

  “It’s getting late,” I comment on the position of the sun. “We’re only about halfway to our cave.”

  “I guess we should get going,” Will agrees.

  He releases my hand. I withdraw mine and delight in the puzzling tingling in my fingertips. He stands and turns to me. Golden light sluices through the forest canopy and kisses his deep-tan skin, illuminating his lustrous eyes, making both glow with unearthly radiance. Even his rich, dark hair has scattered highlights. He offers his hand to me and I take it unquestioningly. He helps me up. I did not need help, but the feel of his hand wrapped around mine again is welcome. Once I am on my feet he releases it, but not before giving it a slight squeeze.

  “Okay guys, we need to start walking again,” he tells Oliver and Riley.

  I nod to June. She stands and we resume our hike back to the cave. I lead the way and Will picks up the rear. The sun is dipping lower with every minute that passes. Dusk will be upon us before we know it. We must hurry if we want to avoid another massacre, one that none of us will survive. I am all too aware of the danger threatening all around us, Urthmen, Lurkers, both seem unavoidable. But as I walk knowing Will is behind me, my thoughts remain divided, split between the endless hazards that menace us continually and the endless possibilities of a future with our new friends.