The Rise of Azlyn (Book 4): Planet Urth, no. 4 Read online

  Planet Urth:

  The Rise of Azlyn

  (Book 4)

  By Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

  PLANET URTH: THE RISE OF AZLYN (BOOK 4)

  Published by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci at Smashwords

  Copyright © 2014

  All rights reserved.

  First edition: June 2014

  Cover design by Damonza

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  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

  My palms are flat against my thighs as the bridge with a name I’ve already forgotten comes into view. Sweat dampens my brow and my breathing snags as Sully directs the cab of the trailer to the beginning of the span. Wind shakes our vehicle. A shrill whistle screeches as air seeps in through the small cracks around the doors and windows. I try to ignore it, try to ignore the sound and the rocking that accompanies it. I also try to ignore the fact that this bridge appears to be in a state of disrepair and doesn’t look capable of bearing the weight of our vehicle, oversized and filled with passengers.

  Spindly beams, rusted and corroding, rise from rough waters and resemble the frail and lanky legs of a flamingo, a bird I once saw a photograph of. Involuntarily, my fingers curl, balling so tightly my knuckles blanch. I close my eyes and inhale through my nose then release the air steadily through pursed lips. I think of all that I’ve been through in the last few weeks, the battles that have been fought and won. Crossing this bridge doesn’t come close to rivaling the danger that’s surrounded me, yet inexplicably, I am more frightened now than when confronted by bands of weapon-wielding Urthmen.

  “Wow, Avery! Look at those waves!” June’s voice causes my eyes to snap open and focus on her. She is sitting between Sully and me, her sandy curls bobbing as her head swivels back toward the window on Sully’s side. I try to focus on her face. In my periphery, however, I see what she’s marveling at. Choppy waves crest into white peaks that look like snow. The river we’re crossing is wide and its current is formidable. The girders that emerge from it seem too short, and too thin. At any given moment, I half-expect the bridge to be swept away by the rushing tide.

  My mouth is suddenly dry. “Oh wow,” I manage to mutter in response, and certainly not in awe. Terror would more accurately describe what I feel when I look at the churning waters.

  “It’s amazing,” June continues, oblivious of my sense of impending doom. “We’re so close to the water!”

  Sully looks over her head at me. His russet gaze is kind when he says, “Uh, June bug, I don’t think Avery here finds any of this amazing.”

  “What? What’re you talking about?” June’s head whips toward me. “She’s,” she starts then reads the expression on my face. The smile she wears falters. “Avery, are you okay?”

  “I close my eyes and shake my head slightly.

  “My gosh! You’re so pale.” Her hands fly to my cheeks. “And you’re skin is clammy. Are you sick?”

  “I don’t think she’s sick exactly, but I think she’ll feel a whole lot better once we’re off this bridge.” Sully reaches across June and gives my hand a squeeze.

  The warmth and strength of his touch is comforting. And so is the fact that the pebbly roadway is now in sight.

  “There we go. See we’re almost across the bridge,” Sully says soothingly. He glances at me and flashes a warm smile.

  I return it with my own and wonder what all the people in the trailer in back would think if they knew I panicked crossing bridges, what the people in the vast motorcade of dozens of tractor-trailers would think. I wonder whether they’d still fight. I wonder whether they’d still believe I’m Azlyn.

  The Urthman troops that we fought and defeated at the underground city traveled there in more than sixty tractor-trailers complete with open trailers for transporting soldiers. After winning the battle, they were ours for the taking, and what we are now using to bring our entire army across the country.

  “Across the bridge? What’s the big deal with the bridge?” June’s brows gather as she looks at Sully then at me.

  I try to think of a way to explain to her, to accurately articulate how the act of crossing roiling water over a structure that looks as if it’s held together with twigs and vines makes me break out in a cold sweat and tremble uncontrollably, how my lungs shrink and my throat feels as if it’s lined with sand, but words escape me.

  “They make Avery freak out,” Sully answers for me.

  Yep, that about sums it up, I think.

  “Oh,” June replies. Then after a moment, she adds, “Kind of like small spaces do, right?”

  “Small spaces?” Sully peers over June’s head once again, a questioning look on his face.

  I nod reluctantly in reply and feel shame burn up from my collar. Yes, I “freak out” as he so eloquently put it, in small spaces, too, like narrow tunnels and places where I’m confined and unable to move. After the incident with the monstrous spider creature, eight-legged insects make me feel itchy and woozy, too. Perhaps that should be discussed next.

  “That’s so weird,” June says. “I mean, you fight Urthmen, for goodness’ sake! They’re monsters that want to kill you. That doesn’t make you freak out, but bridges and small spaces do?”

  “Okay, enough with the making-fun-of-Avery portion of this trip!” I hold up my hands with my palms facing them, as if to ward off any more questions or observations about my list of quirks, but before I’m able to say another word, a loud series of crashes echoes over the rumble of the truck.

  Loud snaps and cracks, similar to the sound of a tree falling only louder, much louder, shake the ground beneath the tires. The cab jerks right hard. A collective gasp resonates from the trailer. My eyes immediately lock on the side view mirror, and what I see confirms my fear from moments ago.

  “What the heck?” Sully says. His eyes are pinned on his mirror as well.

  “What? What is it?” June’s voice is alarmed.

  “The bridge,” I gasp. “It’s the bridge.”

  “No worries, we’re fine.” Sully tries to calm me, but the tremor in his voice betrays him. So do his eyes, which dart from his side view mirror to the windshield.

  Another pop sends our vehicle lurching to the right again. Sully’s brow furrows. He looks to me and clips his head toward the small device mounted on our dashboard, a radio that allows us to communicate with the others in our convoy. “Radio Will and the others. Tell them to hurry up and get off this bridge now!”

  I lift the small handset and adjust the channel before depressing the button on the side and speak. “Will, do you copy?”

  “I’m here.” His familiar voice crackles through the ether.

  “I hope everyone else is listening too,” I say. “Get off the bridge as fast as you can.”

  “What? Why?” Will asks.

  “Wasn’t your rig rocking?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I thought the wind was doing it.” Confusion laces his words.

  “No. It’s not th
e wind. This thing, the bridge, it isn’t stable.” I glance at June fleetingly and try my best not to frighten her more than she already is; more than I am.

  “Are you saying it could collapse?” he asks.

  Swallowing hard, I rasp, “Yes.”

  Sully has stomped on the gas pedal and we’re moving faster, but I worry it’s not fast enough. “Come on! Come on!” he urges our vehicle.

  A series of groans and creaks protests the weight of our procession, growling both a protest and a warning. I radio the rest of the drivers again, urging them to exit the overpass as soon as possible. All the while, I silently hope against all hope that we all make it across unharmed.

  When the familiar crunch of pavement echoes from the front end of our rig, I am still not relieved. Many more are behind us and carry loved ones, and new friends.

  Sully pulls to the shoulder of the road. We wait and watch helplessly and with bated breath for the rest to cross safely.

  A noise that sounds like the moan of a mythical beast fills the ether and is followed by creaking and grinding of wood and steel.

  “Oh no, no, no!” June’s hands cover her mouth. “Riley, Oliver, Will and Tom, what if they don’t make it across?”

  “They will,” Sully says without removing his gaze from his mirror. “They have to.” His voice is little more than a hoarse whisper and it echoes my sentiments exactly.

  With each trailer that passes, I release a tiny breath of relief. One after another exit the bridge.

  When the tires of the final trailer reach the end of the span and roll over land, an unearthly din howls on the wind.

  My heart leaps to my throat and my gaze hurries to the side view mirror. With a frantic expression carving her features, June leans across me. The moment her gaze lands on what’s behind us, her eyes widen and she gasps.

  “Oh my gosh!” I murmur.

  Sully shouts, but his words are muffled by the snarl of crashing waves, toppling steel, and splintering wood. The clatter is sudden, and when it ends, the hiss and roar of whipping waters drowns out any other sound. June and I watch in horror as the demolished overpass is swept away on the current.

  “That could’ve been us! If we’d been going slower, we would’ve been swept away! All of us could have died.” Tears trail down June’s cheek.

  I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her close to me. “Shh, it’s okay. We’re okay.” I kiss the top of her head and try to soothe her. In truth, these last two weeks since making our stand against the Urthmen who waited above the underground city have been tough on her. Waiting with Tom while I went off to battle with Sully, Will and Oliver, and losing Jericho and Sarah are among the many factors that contribute to her burden. We left New Washington, taking with us the majority of its inhabitants and leaving only some of those who occupied Washington Central and were uninterested in parting with their beloved side of the city. We loaded one trailer with food and supplies, but with as many people as we have it won’t last forever. We’ve been on the road for weeks already and we’re acquiring more humans as we go. The days of believing June and I are alone are behind me. Many people, more than I ever dreamed possible, have survived, and are coming out of hiding. Word of our victory in the desert is spreading like brushfire and drawing them to our cause. Our numbers are growing with each day that passes and have more than doubled. Still, without a stable place to live, the constant moving has taken its toll on all of us, especially June.

  June sniffles and wipes her eyes. “I know we’re okay, but,” she takes a trembling breath, “one minute the bridge was there and the next it was gone. That could happen anytime, to any of us.”

  The heart of the matter is rearing its head. The bridge was a mere symbol of how fleeting everything on the planet is. I get it. I really do. And sadly, there’s no way I can discourage her line of thinking because she is right. All I can do is assure her we will take every precaution to ensure it doesn’t happen to us.

  “Nah, that’s not going to happen to us, June bug,” Sully interjects with his trademark ease. “I think we should listen to Avery from now on and stay away from bridges for starters. And maybe we should even stay away from tight spaces, too.” Sully’s brows are so high they nearly disappear into his hairline. His gaze vacillates between June and the road. “Then, I don’t know, is there anything else that creeps you out that we should be aware of?” he directs his question to me.

  A sly smile rounds June’s cheeks and I can tell she’s sifting through the catalog in her memory, searching for more of my irrational fears.

  Deciding to join in and mock myself, I say, “Spiders.”

  June leans back and scrunches her features. “Seriously?”

  “What? They’re gross?”

  “You’ve killed Urtmen and Lurkers!”

  “And a monstrous spider creature, too. Remember?” I jog her memory.

  “Okay, so you’re afraid of the monstrous ones.” Her features relax.

  “Uh-huh,” I agree tightly.

  “And that’s it?” she presses.

  “Uh-huh.” My lips thin and I look away.

  Silvery-blue eyes narrow and scrutinize me. “Avery, you are the worst liar ever!”

  “What? No I’m not!” My voice pitches higher than usual.

  “You are, you know,” Sully chimes in. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  Sully and June begin ribbing me for being afraid of spiders—the smaller, non-monstrous kind—and I find myself tuning in and out of their banter. I’m glad that their moods are improving, even if it is at my expense. When the conversation shifts to our present situation, my interest refocuses.

  “I still can’t believe all this is happening,” June says.

  “All what?” I ask.

  “This,” she gestures to the open road. “The battle back in the desert, the fact that you rallied everyone to fight, it’s unbelievable. It’s been weeks and it still feels like a dream.”

  “How so?” I ask. Though I know how I feel, I’m curious if June feels the same way. We’ve been too busy moving from place to place and meeting new people to discuss how she’s processing all that’s happening.

  “Well, not long ago, when we were at the cave, I thought we were the only two humans left on the planet. Dad died, and Mom had been killed when I was a baby, and I still had you, but deep down, I thought we were alone, that we’d always be alone.” She looks at her lap and swallows before she trains her gaze on me. “You took good care of me and all, and you used to say there were others, but I knew you didn’t really believe it. I knew you were lying to give me hope.”

  Unshed tears blur my vision. I blink feverishly to keep them at bay.

  “You weren’t very good at lying, though,” she continues. “And I didn’t have any hope.”

  Emotion constricts my throat, making it hard for me to swallow, to breathe. For so long, I maintained a charade of hopefulness when I felt anything but hopeful. I was suffering, but worse than that, she was suffering. The thought makes my heart squeeze painfully. Hope may be all a human being has. Depriving her of it is equivalent to murdering her spirit.

  “Avery, do you really think we can kill all the Urthmen and make the planet safe for humans again?” June’s eyes plead for the unfiltered truth.

  I lower my head and think hard before I answer, digging to the deepest reaches of my being before uttering a word. Only when I’ve sufficiently weighed her question and my answer do I speak. I meet her gaze and say in a strong, clear voice, “Yes, June, I do.”

  Sully’s eyes are on me. I feel them before I glance up at him. When our gazes meet, his deep brown eyes shine with what can only be described as faith. He believes in what we’re doing, and he believes in me.

  “A lot needs to happen first,” I qualify my earlier statement with inarguable facts. “We need many more people than we have to fight, but I believe we’ll find them.”

  “More join us every day,” Sully adds.

  “That’s true. But we need more
than a few people each day. King Leon is going to send his army after us as soon as he realizes The General and his troops are dead.”

  We’ve learned in the past few weeks from many of the new people we’ve met that King Leon lives on an island on the East Coast that was once known as Manhattan. It is an enormous city, the only large city that wasn’t destroyed in the war. It is the only place on the planet where there is organization, and an army. Kildare, as it is now known, is by far the most dangerous place on the planet.

  June’s silvery-blue eyes turn overcast. “An army? He’ll send an army after us?”

  “We killed his son, June,” I say as gently as I can. “Now were raising an army to stand against him.”

  “There’s also the fact that we took out a small legion of his troops already,” Sully chimes in. “We have to be prepared for all-out war.” His eyes alternate between our faces and the roadway ahead. Without warning, however, he stomps down on the brake pedal. The rig shudders to a stop, a group of people just feet from the grill.

  “More humans,” June says after a small cry slips past her lips.

  “Yeah, humans I almost ran over.” Sully releases a loud breath and rubs his forehead. “Man, that was close.”

  Behind us, the entire convoy grinds to a halt.

  “I’ll go and see if they’re all right.” I open the door of the cab and climb down.

  “Hold on, you’re not going without me,” Sully says and cuts the engine. “Stay put, June bug.”

  I make my way to the front of the trailer and see a band of people. Roughly ten sets of dark eyes stare at me. They widen briefly, and then lower before murmurs undulate like a billowing banner. The name “Azlyn” is whispered in the wind. They immediately drop to one knee and bow their heads.

  “It’s her! My gosh, it’s Azlyn!” a female voice rises above the awed mumbling.

  I shift my weight from one leg to the other. No matter how many times it happens, no matter how many people we meet, I still have yet to grow comfortable with the reverence. I am a human, a fighter just as they are. I am championing the same cause they are: freedom for humankind. “Please, get up. You don’t have to kneel,” I say. Embarrassment stains my cheeks and makes heat burn up from my collar.