Planet Urth: Sin City
(Book 9)
A novel
By Jennifer and Christopher Martucci
REMAINS OF URTH: SIN CITY (BOOK 3)
Published by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci
Copyright © 2016
All rights reserved.
First edition: September 2016
Second Edition November 2017
Cover design by Lou Harper
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
The acrid stench of blood mingles with the scent of earth and fallen leaves as a breeze skims my skin. Standing in the walled village I once believed would be a safe haven to my family, my eyes scan the cobbled pathway and the grassy areas beyond it. Bodies litter the space. Urthmen bodies. All clad in uniform. A dozen of them. Arrows jutting from their corpses. Their leader lies not far from them, his eyes wide and his mouth open on a silent scream. An arrow protrudes from his thigh and a jagged gash opens his throat, the very gash I inflicted to end his life. I glance down at my hands. They’re stained a shade of crimson that darkens with each passing second, trembling from both exertion and emotion.
“Let’s go! Everyone in the truck!” Xan yells. His voice, loud but hoarse, snaps my attention from the carnage surrounding me. “Lucas!” He waves and approaches me. Bow in hand and striding with purpose, his face is a mask of determination. His black hair hangs past his shoulders and is matted with blood in some places. He smooths it back. “We got them all.” He looks down at the bodies, his upper lip snarling over his teeth in disdain. “Nasty Urthmen,” he spits then looks at me again. “We gotta get outta here now, before more show up.”
Aaron, not far from him, adds, “We do need to get out of here.” He removes his glasses and rubs his face. “More could be close by and will come if they don’t respond.” He clips his head toward the fallen Urthmen.
I stand, frozen in place. I’ve heard what he and Xan have said. I know everyone is waiting for me to say something, yet words elude me. I simply remain as I am, lips clamped shut and feet rooted to the ground below. All that’s happened here—before here and all of the time since the Urthmen stormed my village—flows like liquid lead in my veins. I’m scared and tired. I fear I’ve failed Ara, Pike, everyone. I am alone yet stand among a group of people waiting for me to speak. To lead. I’m momentarily lost. Lost for words. Lost for actions. General Hild’s words before he died, that there isn’t a place for us to hide or safe shelter for us to seek, resonate through my being once again.
Aaron slips his glasses on and stares at me. He clears his throat. Waiting.
I swallow hard and force down the fear creeping up from deep within. I remind myself that destiny begins with a decision, a decision all that remain made the moment we escaped the arena. We decided to stand together. We decided to fight the forces that oppress us and live free. “We can’t leave without them,” I say finally.
Xan’s brow furrows. “Without who?”
“The girls and the children,” I reply.
Xan’s features harden. “We can’t take a bunch of small children and infants! We don’t even have room for the girls!”
“We can’t leave them here to be slaughtered,” I fire back.
“Lucas,” Aaron says. His voice is calm and even. “How will we care for them? We won’t be able to.”
I open my mouth to speak, but before I can utter a word, Reyna says, “We’re not leaving them here to die. I can’t believe any of you would even suggest we do.” She narrows her eyes and glares at Xan. Xan holds her gaze for several beats but she doesn’t flinch. She holds her ground, hands on her hips and ice-blue eyes defying him to challenge her.
To my surprise, Xan doesn’t argue. His lips collapse to form an angry line and his muscles tense as if he’s about to lunge. But he doesn’t. Perhaps he knows I’d kill him where he stands if ever he moved against Reyna in any way that would cause her harm. Or perhaps he knows she’s equal to the task. Regardless, I don’t waste time overthinking it. Time is crucial. “Pike,” I call to my younger brother. “Get them. Get the girls and the children.”
Pike hesitates for a split second before taking off at a jog toward the small, stone structures that house them.
“Lucas, this is madness.” The deep rumble of Kai’s voice is a soothing contrast to his words. “We have nowhere to go and no way of keeping ourselves safe. How will we keep the babies safe?” He hobbles up behind me. I turn and watch him sit on the ground. He rips the sleeve off of one of the dead Urthmen’s uniforms and ties it around his leg to stop the bleeding from his bullet wound. A growl of pain slips from him and his eyes, as dark and clear as polished onyx, cloud. He quickly tries to compose himself, blowing out a steady stream of air through pursed lips.
“Let me take a look at that,” I say and take a few steps toward him.
Kai holds up a hand. “Please. Not until we’re on our way.” His tone is soft but his words are firm. I respect them and back away,
“On our way where exactly?” Micah cries out angrily. “Where are we going? Where can we go?”
Everyone looks to me for an answer. I feel the press of their gazes. The press of their need for direction. The problem is, I don’t have a response. In fact, I haven’t a clue where we’ll go.
I’m not left standing long when Pike appears, the girls from the village filing behind him. Many of them carry babies who range in age from newborns to less than two years old. The small children are noticeably absent. “The children. We need the rest of the children so we can leave now.” My words, though little more than thoughts muttered aloud, reach the girls.
One among them, clad in a white dress with soft, honey-colored waves that cascade to the small of her back, slides a slippered foot forward. She squares her shoulders, looking impossibly clean—immaculate really—among dead, bloody bodies and those of us who fought. “We’re not leaving,” the girl says. Not much older than I am and slight of build, her words, though spoken softly, are filled with ferocity.
“What?” I lean forward, hoping I didn’t hear her correctly but knowing I did.
“You heard me. We aren’t going anywhere with you.” The girl lifts her chin high.
Shaking my head in disbelief, I ask her, “What’s your name?”
Rearing her head slightly, she’s taken aback by my question. “L-Lauren. My name’s Lauren.”
“Okay, well, Lauren, if you stay here, you’ll be killed when the Urthmen return.” I stare at her expecting my words to sink in. When she screws up her features and speaks, however, I realize they have not. Not at all.
“You think we’ll be safer with you?” she scoffs.
“Uh, yeah. Actually I do,” I retort.
Lauren releases a mirthless laugh. In my periphery, I see Reyna throw her hands in the air in exasperation. I feel like doing the same. I can’t believe I’m actually having this conversation. That I have to explain why staying in this Urthmen-sanctioned village is a death warrant.
Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I try to clarify. “When the Urthmen return and see that their soldiers are dead, they’re going to kill you for sure.”
“We didn’t kill their soldiers! You did!” she says as a hand flies to her hip. Her haughtiness coupled with her ignorance on the subject is mind blowing.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a brief moment to compose myself. I feel like shouting at her that she’s insane. But I realize she’s scared. All of us are. I reign in my annoyance and soften my tone. “Do you honestly think they’re goin
g to care or think you didn’t have a part in it?” I don’t wait for her to answer. “No, they won’t. They’ll kill you and all of the children.”
“He’s right. What’re you waiting for? Why’re you fighting this?” Reyna cries. “Get the kids and get them in the truck!”
“You think you have all the answers.” Lauren shakes her head and chuckles faintly. Only the sound is bitter. “You think you know the Urthmen and can predict what they’ll do.”
“Yeah! Because I watched them come into my village and kill everyone there! So I guess I can predict what they’ll do after seeing it firsthand!”
“They didn’t kill everyone,” Lauren says in a sing-song voice that chafes me. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?” She quirks an eyebrow at me, watching with satisfaction as I clench my jaw so hard my teeth hurt. “Yes you are,” she mocks. “So listen closely, we are not going with you.”
“What does me being alive have to do with you not coming with us?” I explode. “I’m sorry, Lauren, you can stand and look smug all you want and think you made some great point, but I don’t get it! I don’t see the connection!”
Another woman steps forward and stands beside Lauren. She places a hand on her shoulder. “Lauren and I—all of us—realize you want to help us. But the fact of the matter is you can’t. You’ve already sealed our fate,” the woman says quietly. She gestures to the bodies all around us. “There’s nowhere for us to go. There’s no place for us out there. If we leave with you, there’s no chance for survival. Not for us. Not for the children. If we stay, as you said, the Urthmen will return and most likely kill us. We’re not fools. We realize that. But there’s more of a chance we’ll survive here than out there.”
“And there’s a good chance that if we stay, they’ll take the children before they kill us. The children have a chance to live if we stay,” Lauren continues.
“So why would we take our kids with you where they’re sure to die when we can stay here and they have a good chance of living?” the other woman asks.
I do not have a response for them.
My argument seems selfish at this point.
“They’re right, Lucas,” Aaron says. “The kids will most likely be taken. They’ll be spared.”
I pause for a moment, considering what he’s said, eyes cast to the ground. Then I’m struck by a reason they need to leave. The very reason we fled the arena. Freedom. Freedom is why we left. We chose to fight to be free rather than live as slaves. “The women will be killed and the children will be taken into slavery.” I lift my eyes and they lock on Lauren first and then on the woman beside her. “And that’s a choice you think is best for them?”
“This isn’t your choice to make! They will live instead of die! I choose life for them!” Lauren yells.
“Yes. Life. A life of slavery,” I say in a low voice.
“Slavery over death, yes.” Lauren’s resolve doesn’t waver.
“You don’t know that death awaits us out there.” I point toward the world beyond the wall.
“Oh but I do.” Lauren smirks, but the expression, meant to be arrogant, is tinged with sadness. “Where are you going? Where are you headed?” She waits for me to answer, but I don’t. I don’t know where we’re going. “You have no clue where you’re going, do you?” I do not reply. “It’s okay. There is no place to go. All you can do is drive away in that truck until you’re spotted, run off the road or run out of gas. Then what? Take your chances in the surrounding area? No matter where you are you’ll be hunted down and killed.” She stops and allows her words to sink in. “At least if we stay here we have a small chance to live and our children have a good chance to live rather than no chance at all.”
Silence stretches between us until finally Xan says, “We really need to leave now.”
“He’s right, Lucas. We don’t have time to argue. We need to go,” Aaron adds.
Whirling on them, I say, “I can’t just leave them.”
A hand gently grips my shoulder. The feel of it sends a wash of warmth down my arm. I know before I turn that it’s Reyna. “It’s their choice to make. Their lives. Their choice. They’ve made up their minds.” My eyes linger, searching hers for a way to convince them. For solace. I know the time to leave has come, that the longer we stay the greater the risk we take at encountering a larger group of Urthmen, but I’m having a hard time accepting it. Reyna offers me a small smile. Small but warm. “Come on. It’s time,” she whispers.
“There’s nothing you can do, my friend.” Kai’s rich voice strains as he struggles to his feet. “Your heart is in the right place and your intentions are good. But you can’t impose your heart or your intentions on people unwilling to welcome them.”
I look away from Reyna and Kai and turn my attention to the women, many of whom carry babies in their arms or on their hips. A lump of dread gathers in my throat. I swallow hard against it and blink back tears. Kai is right. Reyna is right. It’s not my place to impose my will or opinion on them. They are free to decide how they will live. And how they will die. I inhale and steel myself then turn back to Reyna, Kai, Xan and Aaron. “Everyone in the truck. We’re leaving.”
Everyone climbs into the rear of the truck while Aaron slides behind the steering wheel and I slip into the passenger seat. Aaron turns the key that was left in the ignition and the engine rumbles to life. He shifts gears and the truck slowly reverses. Though Aaron stares into the small review mirror mounted on the windshield, I am left to look straight ahead. I watch the group of women who clutch their babies to their chests. They do not move. They do not leave. Instead they watch us. Guilt fills me as they grow smaller the farther we back out of the village. I know the haunting vision of the pale, expressionless faces and infants cradled in their arms will remain with me, indelibly etched into my mind’s eye, for the rest of my days. I will carry the image with me. And the fact that I left them there to die.
Chapter 2
Trees and brush are a swirl of rich greens and browns as Aaron cuts the steering wheel to the left sharply, shifting gears then accelerating so that the forest now rushes at us from the windshield. No longer driving in reverse, we bump along in silence. I’m grateful for the quiet. I doubt I could form a coherent sentence at the moment, much less engage in a conversation. My mind is too busy swimming dizzying laps around the fact that we’ve just left a large group of young women and very young children behind. Their fates will be determined by Urthmen, a species devoid of mercy and brimming with disdain for humankind. The outrage the Urthmen will feel when they arrive at the village and find their troops dead will undoubtedly spawn savagery of the most brutal kind. The deaths of their fallen comrades will have to be answered. Any human in their sights will be punished. The only humans they’ll find are the ones we left. Unarmed women and children. My stomach churns. I squeeze my eyes shut and double over as snippets from my memory flash before my eyes. I see the blood-stained clubs, hear the cries. The begging and pleading for lives to be spared. I’m just about to demand that we turn around and force the women and children into the truck when a roar echoes from behind me. Aaron startles. Whirling, his eyes leave the path on which we travel for a brief period. “Who was that?” he asks, though I don’t know anyone else who sounds remotely like Kai. I don’t need to turn in my seat to know it was him. I immediately recognize the deep voice. Still, I glance over my shoulder, confirming what I already knew and see that Kai has removed one of his pant legs, cutting a small slit in the fabric then tearing it the rest of the way until the blood-soaked material is gone. Brow low and nose wrinkled, Kai’s upper lip is raised as he inspects his gunshot wound. “You okay back there?” Aaron calls back to Kai.
Kai doesn’t respond. He continues to stare at the hole in his leg in horror. Sweat stipples his brow and I notice the distinct tremor in his hands.
“He doesn’t look too good. He’s sweaty and shaking,” I reply instead of Kai.
Aaron’s brows gather as he navigates the vehicle along the dirt ro
ad carved through the woods. His eyes sweep from left to right and for a moment I think his concentration is focused on driving. But when he says, “Okay, Lucas you’re going to have to take over at the wheel here,” I realize he’s planning to put me in the driver’s seat so that he can help Kai.
I stare at Aaron’s profile blankly. “Wait, what?”
He turns and looks at me finally and says, “I need you to drive. I have to help Kai. The bullet has to come out and the wound needs to be cleaned.”
“You know how to do all that?” I ask.
Aaron looks from the road to me again. “I’ve never done it before but I’ve been trained. I know what do to. And I know what can happen if the bullet is left inside and the area is left untreated.” I don’t need to ask anything further. Aaron’s somber expression says it all.
“Okay.” I nod. “What do I do?”
Pointing down to his feet, Aaron says, “The pedal on the right makes the vehicle move. The one on the left makes it stop.”
“Right go. Left stop. Got it.” I give him a thumbs up.
“And the steering wheel is self-explanatory. You turn it and that’s where the truck goes.” Aaron shrugs. “Watch what happens when I step on the brake pedal.” I watch as Aaron’s right foot slowly depresses the pedal closest to me. The truck decelerates. But not all at once. It’s gradual. Smooth. He repositions the gearshift. “Once you’re completely stopped and you don’t want the truck to move anymore or for a period of time, you shift it into park. When you’re ready to go forward, you shift it into drive. If you want to go backwards, you shift to reverse.” Aaron quickly demonstrates. “You have to have your foot on the brake pedal and the truck has to be stopped in order to shift gears, okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
Aaron shifts to park and then climbs out of the driver’s seat. “I’ll be in back with Kai. You’ve got this, Lucas.” He looks at me, holding my gaze for a few seconds before he disappears to the back of the truck. I take his place behind the steering wheel. Placing my foot on the brake pedal, I grip the gearshift and place it in drive. “There should be a first aid kit back here,” I hear Aaron say.
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