Planet Urth (14 page)

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 w
ill 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 t
o 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 question 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 w
hen 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, D
ad was pretty great, wasn’t he?” I think of how levelheaded he always was, how calm and in control he remained at all times.