Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2) (18 page)

“Whoa there, I gotcha,” a voice says.  My eyelids flutter. 
I fight against the dark tide pulling me down, tempting me with oblivion.  Between my eyelashes, I spy short hair similar in color to mine.  Straight, sandy-blonde wisps with a scattering of pale streaks cover his forehead.  “Come on, stay with me,” the voice echoes from nothingness, towing me toward it.  “What’s your name?” it asks.

“Avery,” I hear myself barely form the word.  “M-my name’s Avery.”

“I need you to open your eyes okay. I need you to look at me,” the voice continues.

Frantic voices sound all around me.  I am vaguely aware of a young girl crying.
  The voice, the soft, musical voice rings through the air and wrenches me, connecting every synapse in my brain until I realize the young girl crying is June.

“June,” I mumble. 

“June is here,” the voice says.  “And she needs you.”

At those words, I force my eyes open.  My gaze is met with a pair of
brown eyes dressed with long, dark lashes. 

“Hey, welcome back
,” the eyes crinkle ever so slightly at the edges.  I lower my gaze and see a jovial half-smile.  His expression seems absurd given the circumstances, yet I am hypnotized by it.  “I’m Sully, and that’s my friend Jericho.”  He thumbs over his shoulder to the tall, dark-skinned man I saw in the arena. 

“And I’m Will,” I hear Will chime in.  “Now can we please get out of here?”

“Hi Will,” Sully says, but his eyes do not leave mine.  “We’ll go as soon as she’s able.”

“There are Urthmen headed this way!” June cries out. 

“They’re out of the building, preparing to attack,” Will adds urgently.

I know I should look to the depraved beasts headed our way as everyone but Sully is, but I can’t.  I’m incapable of looking away from
him for fear I will lose what little calm I cling to. 

“
Jericho,” Sully says, his eyes still locked on mine.  “You ready?”

“Yes I am,”
Jericho replies, his voice so deep and rich it is mesmeric. 

I jerk slightly, ripping my eyes from Sully for a split-second and
try to twist to see what Jericho is doing, but doing so causes pain so intense it knocks the air from my lungs.  Confirming what I worried was true, my heart pounds and blood leaks from my wounds vigorously.  My gaze returns to his face and I decide to keep them there.

“Oh don’t worry about what he’s doing,”
Sully says calmly when my body faces him once again.  “He has something for the Urthmen they’ll never forget.”  An edge of humor tints his words.  I do not see anything funny about being pursued by Urthmen.  “I’m going to lift your shirt and get a look at your wound, okay?”

I nod in agreement and feel the wet fabric of my shirt peel away from the slash.  “Ouch!” I protest. 

“Sorry,” Sully says.  “Okay, it’s not too bad.”  Deep golden eyebrows, gathered in concern, betray his words though.  “But the bleeding needs to be stopped.  You’re losing too much blood.”  He lowers my shirt and trains his gaze on my face. 

“How are we going to stop the bleeding?” Will asks.

“First, we have to get out of here,” Sully answers, and again, his eyes remain on me.  “Jericho, now would be a good time.”

At his words and at the sight of approaching Urthmen,
Jericho tinkers with a square device with odd knobs.  He adjusts one and a thunderous explosion rocks the ground beneath me.  Sharp and quick, the deep-bass bang is immediately followed by a sound similar to heavy rainfall.  Pressure builds against my eardrums.  I topple over and land against Sully’s solid chest, ears ringing faintly.  I stiffen and try to right myself, the vague noise in my ears only adding to an already agonizing experience. 

“I gotcha, don’t worry, Avery,”
Sully says in a voice that is low, almost intimate.  I don’t know why, but I am soothed by it.  A hand cups my elbow, Sully’s hand, and guides it upward.  “Slowly, okay.  Take it slow,” he advises me.

“Oh Avery,” June says and slides my free arm over her shoulders.

I am flanked by June and Sully as we start moving again. 

“That should
keep those cowards busy for a little while, but they will regroup soon; make no mistake about it.  We need to move fast,” Jericho says.

I strain my eyes and turn my head to see
that the Urthmen who haven’t been blown to pieces are scattering from a cloud of sand and strewn debris.  They run in the opposite direction, away from us.  The scene is marked by chaos and confusion.  A chilly, satisfied smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. 

That smirk falters when Sully encourages me to walk by beginning to do so himself.  Reluctantly, I look away from the mayhem and
I take several clumsy steps.  My strength has been sapped and searing pain ricochets from every angle.  Awareness that I will not be able to continue only adds to the pain.  “Go.  You guys go ahead,” I urge everyone after sliding my foot forward only to experience excruciating twinges and a gush of my lifeblood seeping from the cut at my stomach.  “I can’t,” I say in frustration. 

But before I can say another word,
Jericho steps between Sully and I and scoops me up like a child.  “You will not stay behind, Avery,” his deep voice rolls soothingly.  Powerful and capable, his arms are hoops of thick steel.  They hold me high off the ground and I realize he is not much smaller than the Urthman who injured me in the arena.  His rich, dark skin is scarred, but his eyes, nearly the same color as his skin, are clear, pristine.  They radiate a kindness and warmth that makes my own shine with tears. 

“Thank you,” I whisper and my voice cracks.

“I’ll carry her, Jericho,” Will says.  His face is etched in stone, a strange, unfamiliar expression clouding his features.

“Uh, I think we’ll move a lot faster with him carrying her,”
Sully says to Will.

A tiny rumble of laughter resona
tes and seems to echo from somewhere deep inside Jericho.  Will huffs and mumbles something I cannot hear.  Jericho does not wait any longer or debate.  He runs, his long, muscular legs covering ground quickly with their elongated stride.  Over his shoulder, I see June is being carried by Sully and Riley by Will. 

We run for what seems like forever.  The jarring and bumping makes blood
rush from me faster, and pain unlike any I have ever felt branches from my cut.  Jericho slows then stops after he crosses an expansive piece of property at the edge of which a barn sits.  Sully opens a wide, wooden door and we hurry inside. 

The interior of the barn is decrepit.  An entire upper level has collapsed atop stalls and cobweb covered shelves sag as if bearing the
weight of heavy snow rather than silken threads. 

“Set her down over here where the light is good,”
Sully says and points to a location I cannot see. 

Jericho
places me on what feels like a pile of dried grass.  It is stiff and prickly, but at the same time soft and comfortable. 

“All right, Avery, I’m not gonna lie, this is going to hurt.”
Sully’s voice is laden with what sounds like guilt. 

“What’s going to hurt her?”  Winded and flushed, Will is coated in sweat.  He can barely catch his breath to speak
when he appears at my side. 

“Don’t hurt my sister,
please
!” June joins Will and stands beside him.  Her hands fly to her mouth when her eyes land on my torso.  “Oh my gosh!  Avery!” she gasps.

Will’s eyes widen as well. 

“I won’t mean to hurt your sister, but I have to do something to stop the bleeding.  If she keeps bleeding like she is, she’ll die.” Sully is blunt with June, a fact that makes me bristle.  I do not know why.  She needs to know the truth.  Still, my instincts balk at his forthrightness.  “Here,” he tells me and brandishes a flat stick.  “Bite down on this as soon as I start.  I’ll be right back.”

Sully
leaves me for a minute and meets Jericho near the barn door.  They riffle through a bag until Jericho holds a tube of something and Sully holds a large, hooked needle and a spool of thread.

The overwhelming stench of blood,
my blood
, smoke and rotting wood pollutes my lungs and makes me gag.  Desperation and panic rise within me.  I wonder what it is that Sully plans to do to me.  He told me it would hurt, that I may need to bite down on a short plank of bark as a laboring woman would.  Both have my heart hammering away painfully, like strikes of a sledge hammer.

“It’s okay, Avery.  Everything’s going to be fine,” Will tells me. 
But his words have little effect on the ice chips charging through my veins. 

June places her head on my shoulder.  Rubbing her cheek against the fabric of my shirt she whispers, “Please be okay, Avery.”

Her words wrap around me and encircle my heart, melting it.  “I’ll be fine, June.  Good as new.”  I square my shoulders and sit up as best I can, feeling compelled to live up to her high expectations of me. 

But when
Sully returns, the woozy, sick feeling returns.  He holds a tubular container of liquid.  “First I’m going to clean it, then I’m going to sew it up.”

I take a breath, expelling it quickly. 
“Okay,” I say reluctantly. 

He hands me the stick.  “I’d take this now if I were you.”

A quick glance at Jericho reveals that his head is cocked to one side, his expression compassionate.  He frowns and says, “It won’t help the pain, but it will give you control.”

His honesty is appreciated.  I slip the fat stick between my teeth
and know there’s no turning back.  Part of me feels foolish with my mouth wide and the stick lodged in it sideways, that is, until the first drop of liquid touches my flesh when it is applied with a white, fluffy swatch of fabric. 

The moment the wet fabric swabs my skin,
a sound rips from me that I didn’t think myself capable of making.  Burning, stinging pain shoots from every direction around the open cut.  I cry out against the wood in my mouth, my back teeth gnashing against it.  Sweat stipples my brow, yet I am cold and my body trembles.  The sting is followed by the sensation of something sharp being inserted along the edge of the wound.  I inhale sharply and clench my abdominal muscles against the twinge.  It continues, the torturous stab of the hooked instrument passing between the upper and lower portion, then tugging it together, closed.  

I start to feel as if I won’t be able to endure the pain any longer. I close my eyes and try to envision a peaceful, painless experience.  They are few, but they exist in my memory.  I draw upon them, calling to mind when June
and I were at the river not long ago.  She was upset because I’d unintentionally insulted her.  To redeem myself and remind her that the magic of littleness was not lost on me, I began bouncing and splashing, scooping handfuls of water and slapping my palms up before the water returned to the river.  When my hands collided with the water and smacked it, droplets sprayed in every direction.  At first, June had rolled her eyes at my antics, but before long, she couldn’t resist and joined in.  We stomped and flopped and splashed in the water until our bellies hurt from laughter.  Carefree, even if just for a short time, we had fun.  We got to act our ages. 

Recalling that day makes me forget the smarting around my wound.  It
temporarily diverts the discomfort.

When I open my eyes, I am focused and feel as if I am better able to govern my pain.

My gaze scans the faces in the room.  Oliver looks green, as if he may vomit at any minute.  I have to say, I share his feeling to some extent.  Keeping my mouth partially open and grinding my molars against the wood leaves me feeling queasy in addition to the slew of other horrendous sensations I am wrestling. 

Will is beside Oliver.  His suntanned skin has blanched somewhat and
his arms are folded across his chest.  His expression softens considerably when he catches me watching him.  I quickly look away and turn my gaze to June.  Sweet, innocent June’s face is puffy and pink, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.  She smiles feebly as soon as she feels my eyes on her and I force one of my eyes to wink.  Riley does not look much better.  She alternates between sobbing and sniffling.  The children have been through too much already.  Seeing this only adds to their many ordeals and burdens minimally. 

“
Avery, you’re doing great,” Sully says gently. 

My eyes are drawn to him. 
He looks up from what he is doing and I am amazed by how nimble his hands are.  Long, slender fingers continue to move agilely even when he is not watching them.  “Last time I did this for Jericho, he cried like a baby.”  I open my jaw and allow the wood to drop.  I smile at him and his eyes lower to where he works. 

“How do you do that?” I ask of
his ability to sew through flesh and bring it together as it was before.

“
Sully can fix anything, even people,” Jericho says.  His voice flows like a mighty river when he speaks, surging with truth and loyalty. 

I wince briefly as the needle pricks through my flesh
yet again, losing my concentration.  “What about the guns?  Those were guns you had at the arena, right?”