Sin City

by Jennifer Martucci

  “Traveling to Sinsity is no easy feat,” Garan says as if Xan, Micah and I weren’t just discussing his possible execution. “We need a vehicle and enough fuel to make it over more than a thousand miles. We’re nearer the eastern part of the land than the western part. If by some slim chance we made it through Uganna territory alive we’d still have to contend with the desert.”

  “What’s Uganna territory?” Reyna asks.

  “You don’t know who the Uganna are?” Garan asks incredulously.

  Reyna says, “No.”

  Garan looks to the rest of us. “But you guys do, right? Surely you know who they are.”

  The word “no” ripples through our group.

  “Where’ve you guys been living, under a rock or something?” Garan asks with a smirk.

  “How does one live under a rock?” Aaron asks. “I’m confused.”

  Garan looks puzzled for a moment. “Never mind.” He waves a hand dismissively. “The Uganna are mindless savages. They never evolved since the War like the other Urthmen did. They’re more animal than Urthman.”

  “You all seem mindless to me,” Xan comments.

  “I seem mindless.” Sarcasm bleeds from Garan’s words as he chuckles bitterly.

  “What’re you laughing at, Urthman?” Xan’s blade is at Garan’s throat.

  Garan doesn’t say a word. Instead, in one swift, fluid motion, he drives his elbow into Xan’s chin, pulling the sword from him and repositioning himself so that he holds the sword at Xan’s throat.

  “Let him go, or you die right here right now.” I grip the hilt of my sword and advance a single step. Worry is wound as tightly as a coiled snake in the pit of my stomach.

  “I’m not interested in hurting him or any of you.” Garan’s voice is tight but rings with sincerity.

  “Then let him go,” I order. My tone is calm but unwavering.

  Garan pulls the blade away and hands it to me. “I’m not your enemy but I’m not going to be threatened. Either kill me or believe what I tell you.”

  Xan turns. “Filthy monster!” The words tumble from him in an angry shout as he grabs a fistful of the Garan’s shirt and drives his knee into his gut. Garan expels a loud grunt, doubling over and attempting to clutch his midsection, but when he bends forward, his jaw is met by Xan’s tightly balled hand. The punch explodes against his face, driving it back so that he staggers backward, almost losing his footing. Garan gasps for air, a thin rivulet of fresh blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

  Xan cocks his fist again and is about to launch it when I halt him. “All right, that’s enough!” I shout.

  Still poised to strike, Xan slowly turns to face me, his brow low, eyes narrowed to scythe-like slashes and his lips pressed to a hard line. “This filthy Urthman has a sword to my throat. My sword. He threatened my life! Why should I stop?”

  Spitting a stream of blood and stumbling, Garan swipes the blood by his mouth with the back of his hand. He wheezes. When he catches his breath, he looks at Xan. “You’ve got a nasty uppercut.” His tone, surprisingly, is without anger. Instead it’s observational, complimentary, in fact.

  Xan clips his chin in acknowledgment. The rage seems to have seeped from him. But he still circles Garan, ready to pounce in the space of a breath.

  “Can you get us to Sinsity? Through the Uganna territory and the desert?” I ask.

  Taking his eyes off of Xan long enough to reply, Garan’s eyes meet mine. “I can. It won’t be easy. But I can.”

  “Freedom isn’t easy. Getting to Sinsity won’t be easy. Nothing is easy. But we have no other plan.” I lower my sword and reach out a hand. “My name’s Lucas. And as long as we’re traveling together, you’ll have to refrain from blades at our throats.” I offer a weak smile.

  “I don’t want to fight you.” He clasps his hand in mine, gripping it before releasing it. “Not any of you.” He turns to Xan and extends his hand. “We’ll have the Uganna and the Urthmen and who knows what other creatures to contend with along the way to Sinsity. We need to trust each other.”

  Xan, reluctant at first, takes Garan hand and shakes it.

  “Truce?” Garan asks.

  “I have no idea what that means so if you’re cursing at me, truce you, too,” Xan says with an ironic smile.

  “Truce means peace. I’m saying I want peace. As in let’s not have blades at each other’s necks or punch each other. Deal?” Garan asks.

  After a pause, Xan agrees. “Deal.”

  Micah lowers his weapon. To Xan he whispers a bit too loudly, “Does this mean we can ask him why he has hair and all the other Urthmen don’t?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” Xan shrugs.

  “Well we’re all buddy-buddy now, right?” Micah’s brows are raised.

  “I guess.” Xan nods. “We’ll have plenty of time in the truck to ask.”

  Garan, listening to what they’re saying but not looking at Xan and Micah, rolls his eyes.

  “We need to get out of here,” I say. First, I train my gaze on Garan. “I’m trusting you, Urthman. Don’t make me regret trusting you.”

  “You can trust me.” Garan nods. “And please, unless you want me to call you human rather than Lucas, please call me Garan.”

  “Fair enough,” I agree. “Let’s go, Garan.”

  We begin walking. As we do, Garan says, “We have quite a journey ahead of us.”

  “Sounds like.” I don’t know what else to say. The only thought that echoes in my brain as I scan our group and look at my sister, brother, Reyna and all of the people with whom I’ve fled the direst of circumstances is: I hope Garan is telling the truth. If he is not, then I just placed everyone who matters most to me in danger. I’ve just welcomed the enemy.

  Chapter 5

  Leaving the wooded area and returning to the truck, Garan searches interior compartments.

  “What’s he doing?” Pike asks in a hushed voice.

  “I have no idea.” My eyes follow him as a small thread of doubt begins to wind its way around every hope I have about trusting this Urthman who claims to fight on behalf of our cause.

  “Should we be worried?” Ara turns to me, fixing me with keen, emerald eyes.

  I shake my head slowly. “I heard the radio call. The Urthmen have been hunting him. They want him dead. That’s for sure.” I swallow hard. “What he’s said has to be true.” I wonder who I’m trying to convince at this point, her or me.

  “He’s looking for something.” Reyna watches him, studying his every movement, alert and prepared to act if necessary. “I wonder what. And I wonder if once he finds it, he’ll take off.”

  “If he does, we’ll be no worse off than before we came here, right?” Ara says.

  After a pause, Reyna turns to Ara. “That’s true,” she says and quirks an eyebrow. “Good point.”

  Ara smiles, broader than usual. I’m grateful she’s connected with Reyna so easily. They seem to have a comfortable, almost sisterly rapport.

  Reyna winks at Ara then resumes scrutinizing Garan. Muscles tense and expression tight, her uneasiness is obvious. She has yet to sheathe her blade and clutches the hilt so tightly her knuckles blanch. Her behavior mimics everyone else’s. Even Kai. Kai, though still injured and slowed considerably by his injury, looks as if he’d strike at a moment’s notice, too. Everyone does. Everyone is leery at this point. And rightly so. All of us have been through so much. All of us have sacrificed. All of us have experienced loss.

  Garan, oblivious of all the tension surrounding him, bounds up the aisle between the seats and stops before Pike, Ara, Reyna and I. “Bad news,” is all he says.

  “What?” I watch as Reyna’s bicep twitches. In my mind, I tell her to be calm, to hold off on lopping off Garan’s head. To let him speak. I shout it in my head so loudly for a moment I wonder if she heard me because she lowers her weapon a fraction of an inch. Garan’s hands rest on his hips. “There aren’t any extra barrels of fuel in this truck.” He closes his eyes for a moment as
if regaining his composure. When he opens them, he says, “I’m gonna go check the Urthman truck. See if there are any in there.”

  “Okay.” I shrug without knowing what else to say.

  “Hey how’d you end up with this truck anyway?” Garan looks around.

  “We were at a camp by the river and—” I start but Garan interrupts.

  “The place where the Uthmen breed humans!” Garan nods in recognition. “I’ve seen the wall. Never been inside, of course. It sounds so wrong. Humans being bred to serve Urthman.” He shakes his head. “I guess it shouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Yep, that’s the place.” My voice is somber. An image of the women and children left behind flickers in my mind’s eye. “It is wrong. Everything about it.” I don’t bother sharing details. Another time perhaps. But not now. “General Hild and a dozen of his men stormed the place while we were there. We took them out and took his truck.”

  “You killed Hild?” Reverence touches Garan’s words. “Wow. He had quite a reputation. He’d kill humans, his men or his own mother if she stood in his way.” Garan looks me up and down. “I’m impressed, Lucas.”

  I shift uncomfortably. Compliments are not something I’m used to receiving, let alone from an Urthman who fights on the side of humans. “Thanks,” I mumble.

  “No problem,” He replies. “I’m gonna search that Urthman truck.” He gestures with his thumb over his shoulder. “Hopefully there’s fuel.”

  Garan turns on his heels and marches back down the aisle to the rear doors, which were opened when we boarded but closed after the last person entered. He expertly maneuvers the locking mechanism, swings one door wide and jumps down to the pavement. He disappears inside the Urthman truck.

  “Isn’t it weird how he referred to the other truck as the ‘Urthman truck’? Does he not know he’s an Urthman, too?” Pike asks.

  “I’m pretty sure he’s reminded every time he catches a glimpse of his reflection,” Reyna chuckles.

  “Ha! That’s funny!” Pikes rich laughter defuses some of the tension.

  Ara blushes and giggles but stops the second she sees Garan. He’s climbed back into the truck and says, “No extra barrels in the Urthman truck either!” before he even reaches us. He’s visibly agitated.

  “What’re you so upset about barrels for?” Xan asks.

  “Barrels of fuel,” Garan snaps. “Fuel we need to keep this truck running and get to Sinsity.”

  The humor seeps from Xan’s features.

  “The only fuel we have is what’s in the tank.” Garan rubs his brow and squeezes his eyes shut.

  “How far will that get us?” I ask.

  “Not very far at all,” Garan replies without opening his eyes. He cups his head in his hands for moment and rubs his temples.

  “Well this is just great! We aren’t going anywhere!” Micah throws a hand up in frustration.

  “No, we are. We’re going. We’ll figure this out,” I assure Micah—and everyone else—in an even tone. “There’s gotta be a place we can find it,” I mutter under my breath.

  “That’s it!” Garan’s eyes pop open and he snaps. “The supply post!”

  “Huh?” Micah scrunches his features. “The Urthmen are the only ones who have fuel—or anything else for that matter—and I’m guessing they aren’t going to give it to us.” He offers a humorless smile.

  “No, you’re right. They won’t give it to us.” Aaron approaches, walking up behind Garan. “But they have it. There’s a place east of here.”

  “And just because they won’t give it to us doesn’t mean we can’t get it.” Garan looks directly at me. “Did what the Urthmen allow you to do ever stop you from doing what you want or need to do?”

  I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”

  “We need fuel, right?” Garan looks around at our group then back at me.

  “We sure do,” I answer as the word “yes” echoes.

  “So let’s take it.” Garan shrugs. “They take everything from us, right? Our dignity. Our families. Our freedom. Our lives. Let’s take their fuel.”

  A tremor of something passes through me. I don’t identify it right away, only that it courses through my veins in time with adrenaline. Words spring from my core, vaulting from my lips without overthinking. “Garan is right. The Urthmen have taken anything and everything they can from us. They’ve all but left the human species extinct. If we have an opportunity to find more like us, more who are willing to fight, then we have to take it. And we need fuel to do just that.”

  Several times the word “yeah” is shouted in agreement and applause has broken out.

  Once it dies down, Aaron raises a hand. “Uh, I hate to be a downer here, but I have to remind our new friend Garan and share with all of you where the fuel outpost is.” He waits a moment and takes a deep breath before speaking again. “It’s only a few miles from the arena.”

  Aaron’s words land like a ham-fisted punch to my gut. The energy and enthusiasm of the truck shifts.

  “What?” Kai says. “The arena?”

  “We’re not going back there!” another voice says.

  “The Urthmen’ll never have me fighting to amuse them again!” I watch as color rises in Xan’s cheeks.

  Gripping my arm, Ara turns me to face her. “I don’t know about this, Lucas. I-I…” She lowers her gaze. Looking up at me through her lashes, her voice is little more than a whisper. “I don’t want to see that place again as long as I live.”

  I wrap an arm around her shoulders and bring her close. I give her a tight hug then hold her at arm’s length. Looking directly into her eyes, I promise, “You won’t. I’ll never let that happen.”

  “Going there would be certain death,” Aaron pipes up above the chatter that’s broken out. “They’re still looking for us for sure. And from what you say, they’re always looking for you,” he addresses Garan.

  “This is a trap!” Xan announces as though nebulous puzzles pieces have just clicked into place revealing a plot against us. “He’s setting us up!”

  Garan exhales loudly then shakes his head. “You’re kidding right? I mean you have to be kidding.”

  “No, I’m dead serious,” Xan growls.

  “First of all, and I can’t believe I’m even wasting time going along with this nonsense, but how could I be trapping you? How could I have known you heard the radio call and were coming to help? You think I staged them kicking the crap out of me too? You think these bruises and cuts are fake?” He points to the many lacerations on his face and arms. “Going to Sinsity was your idea. Not mine. I just wanted to get the heck out of the woods before more Urthmen came.”

  Xan is silent.

  Garan’s hands rest on his hips once again. He paces in the small stretch of aisle he occupies. “Without the fuel, we can drive west until we run out of fuel then travel on foot. If we make it to Uganna territory alive, we’ll no doubt die there. Uganna territory is certain death.” Garan looks at Aaron. Aaron drops his gaze to his feet. “They know their land better than any creature on the planet. You want a trap, you’ll find one there for sure.” His gaze trains on Xan before he looks away. Garan takes a deep breath. In a calmer voice, he says. “We can do that. We can try it that way. Or we can take the fuel from the outpost and drive to Sinsity.”

  “I understand all that you’ve said.” Reyna’s voice through the suffocating silence that’s blanketed the truck is as rich and clear as a bell tolling. “How do we approach the outpost? How will we get the fuel?”

  “We drive up to it and act like we’re supposed to,” Garan answers.

  “Excuse me?” Reyna leans forward slightly. “What the heck are you talking about? What do you mean?” Eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring, I can tell a part of her is ready to lunge at Garan. “We’re humans! We might as well walk up to them and slap the shackles on ourselves!”

  “No, no. You won’t do anything like that. You’ll hide in back.” He rubs his chin, staring beyond Reyna at some distant, unseen
point. “I’ll get the fuel.”

  I look among Pike, Ara, Reyna and Aaron. “How will you get it? Aren’t you the most wanted being on the planet?”

  “I sure am. But I won’t be me.” Garan looks at me as if I’m supposed to know what he’s saying.

  “Enough with the riddles, Urthman! Tell us your plan already!” Xan bellows from a few rows back.

  “Garan, not Urthman,” Garan corrects. “And I’ll be wearing a disguise.”

  “A disguise?” I can’t help but ask.

  “Yeah, I’ll go back to the woods and strip one of the Urthmen. I’ll wear his uniform and pretend that I’m at the outpost picking up fuel for Hild. I’ll be driving his truck after all.” Garan smiles wryly.

  “Are they that stupid? Will they actually fall for that?” I can’t imagine they won’t recognize Garan, who, from what he’s said, they’ve been pursuing for quite some time.

  “Have you met most Urthmen?” Garan leans forward and scrunches his features in mock disbelief.

  “You do realize you’re insulting your own kind, don’t you?” Xan cocks his head to one side, speaking to Garan as he would a child.

  “They’re not my kind.” Garan emphasizes the last two words. “Do they seem like me? At all?”

  “No, not really.” I consider the Urthmen I’ve met. None were level-headed, capable of carrying a conversation that didn’t include bloodshed in some form or another. Whether it was the threat, promise or hope for blood to be spilled, violence was at the core of their thoughts and motivations. All of the Urtmen I’d encountered were savages.

  “No, I’m not,” Garan agrees. “Not even a little bit. And that’s just one of the many reasons I’m hated by them. The fact that they’d need to evolve for about three decades more or receive intense education before they could be even remotely like me.” He mumbles the last sentence as if it’s more for himself than for us.

  “What are the other reasons?” Reyna asks.

  “There isn’t time to tell you now. We have a long journey ahead of us. There’ll be plenty of time to hear my story, and for me to hear yours,”