The Underground City (Book 3): Planet Urth, no. 3 Read online

  Planet Urth:

  The Underground City

  (Book 3)

  By Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

  PLANET URTH: THE UNDERGROUND CITY (BOOK 3)

  Published by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci at Smashwords

  Copyright © 2014

  All rights reserved.

  First edition: March 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

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  Sully’s tone is indecipherable. My cheeks flush and I furrow my brow, wondering whether his comment was intended for me, or for the stone wall we’ve been staring at through our binoculars since the sun rose. I can never tell whether he’s being serious or whether he’s joking.

  Slowly, I lower my lenses and turn to look at him. I am met with his eyes, a deep, rich brown, glittering with laughter from a punch line I’m not privy to. He makes similar comments often, and always with the same amusement dancing in his gaze. I should be used to both. I should disregard them. But I can’t. Ambiguous comments such as the “beautiful” remark keep me in a constant state of confusion.

  “Same old boring, pale thing you see every day,” I retort offhandedly.

  “Nothing boring as far as I can see,” he says before he turns away with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Baffled again, I fight the nervous smile threatening to curve my lips, and my body warms.

  A welcome breeze blows, cooling my heated skin. Brightly colored leaves cascade from overhead like embers, twirling and spinning before they land all around me. Though the morning is not particularly chilly, the air feels different. A distinct crispness prevails. Gone is the humidity from weeks earlier. Seasons are changing, and so are our lives.

  The woods encircle me. Treetops are ablaze with vibrant reds, yellows and oranges. But I’m uninterested in the foliage, especially when I have a giant wall the color of sand to look at.

  Lying flat on my belly beside Sully, I stare beyond the edge of the forest and into the distance. Using matching binoculars, we’re able to see a structure in the distance. A wall that easily triples my height borders a building. Sharp spikes and barbed wire lace the uppermost portion of it. Only the highest point of the building is visible above it. All I can see of it are two windows carved out of the brick face on the top floor. With nearly identical broken glass at the center of each pane, the windows look like oversized eyes, watchful and waiting. Jaundiced in appearance with peeling, pale-yellow paint, I wonder at times whether the building is watching us. After all, we’ve been watching it for fourteen days now.

  Each day for the last two weeks, Sully and I have come to the exact spot we’re at and spent our time monitoring the activity of the building. Like everything else beyond the forest, the structure is an Urthmen stronghold. But unlike others in the world beyond the forest, this one houses something we need. It stores gasoline, the fuel essential to beginning our journey to the underground city.

  Sully’s known about the warehouse for a while, but never had a reason to inspect it further. Not until recently.

  “Avery, look,” Sully nudges me. “See that? Right on time,” he says of the massive truck pulling to the gate surrounding the building.

  A small part of me wants to nudge him back and tell him, “Uh yeah, how could I not see the giant rig rumbling to a stop right in front of my eyes?” Well, technically, it’s not right in front of my eyes. But with the binoculars, it appears that way. Regardless, I am cranky and frustrated. Two weeks of watching the same exact activity day in and day out without any divergence has left me edgy, restless. Of course, I don’t act on impulse and indulge my grumpiness. Instead, I mumble a quick, “Yup, I see it,” to Sully and continue to bore a hole through my lenses with my gaze.

  The Urthmen appear to have stockpiled a considerable stash of gasoline. Stored in everything from large metal vats to small plastic drums, each day a truck arrives to cart some away. Their supply seems unending. Where and how they get it remains a mystery to me. All I know is that we need what they have. And Sully and I are plotting a way to get it.

  We’ve been waiting and watching, trying to figure out how to get inside the warehouse and steal enough barrels of fuel to get us across the country to New Washington. Surrounded by high, smooth walls that end at an iron gate with pointed picket tips that, on closer inspection are razor sharp arrowheads, the adjacent property appears inaccessible. The outside is secure. Inside, however, by our count, only four Urthmen reside, and before nightfall each day, they leave.

  We’ve discussed ambushing the truck after it leaves and is further down the road, but it’s heavily guarded and poses more of a risk than breaking into the warehouse.

  Every day, when the sun is highest in the sky, and I see that truck pull to the gate, get what it came for and leave, a battle against logic wars within me. Attacking the truck, drawing attention to ourselves that way and chancing that an Urthman will radio to others and all but guarantee our deaths, is a dangerous endeavor to entertain, dangerous to the point of being foolhardy. Still, the temptation is great. Seeing it pull away, knowing enough fuel is onboard to get us to the underground city and back, leaves an anxious knot in my stomach that tightens with each day that passes. I want out of this area. We are being hunted, and I want to get June, Will, Riley, Oliver, Sully, Jericho and myself as far away from here as possible.

  “We’re going to do it tomorrow,” Sully says as if he’s read my thoughts.

  “Huh?” I mumble then swallow hard. I need him to say it again to be sure my ears aren’t deceiving me.

  I turn to face him. Piercing eyes are pinned on me.

  “We’ve got to do this soon, tomorrow,” he says with unwavering certainty. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t take this anymore, waking up every morning and thinking this could be the day they find us.”

  A pulse of excitement passes through me, despite the sad truth of what he’s said. He wants to take the first step. I do, too. “Okay,” I say. “You know I’m up for it.” I fight to keep from smiling. It’s tough, though. The thought of acting rather than watching and plotting energizes me. “Tomorrow sounds great. The sooner we get out of here the better.”

  “Yeah, and it’s only a matter of time before they find us. I don’t know why, but lately, I feel like they’re getting closer,” he adds grimly as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

  I know what he means. I feel the same way. Urthmen have been searching for the humans responsible for killing Prince Neo. Some days I swear I can smell the fetid stench of their breath at the back of my neck. I know they aren’t physically there, not yet at least, but the threat of them is. I shake my head to clear the image of their horrid faces from my brain and try to refocus my thoughts.

  “So what’s our plan?” I think out loud and take a cursory glance through my binoculars. “We can’t climb those walls. They’re way too tall, and we’d
be ripped to shreds by those spikes and barbed wire.”

  “No, you’re right. And blowing it up isn’t an option either. That would send every Urthman in the area rushing here.”

  I would like nothing more than to equip the entire compound with explosives and detonate it right when the truck pulls in. Watching pieces of the murderous beasts fall from the sky like rain would be a triumph. But as Sully has said, an explosion would alert every Urthman close enough to hear the blast. Our location would be revealed, as well as the fact that we are attempting to rob the facility.

  The back of my head begins to pound. I’m revisiting points Sully and I have already considered and discussed at length. Tension gathers in my shoulders and at the base of my skull. Options for entrance are scarce. And all of them seem to end with the same result: us getting captured. We’ll all die if we’re caught. There’s no doubt in my mind about that.

  “So what’s left?” I ask tightly, my brain reaching for an answer.

  A momentary sparkle twinkles in the depths of Sully’s dark eyes. “The truck that comes for a pickup every day, that’s what’s left.”

  Knitting my brows in confusion, I say, “I thought we agreed the truck can’t be attacked, that it’s too dangerous.”

  “I’m not saying we should attack the truck,” he says. “But think about it, the Urthmen, dumb as they are, leave the gate wide open when the truck comes in.”

  “Yeah, and it’s open the entire time the truck is loaded.” As soon as the words fall from my lips, his point crystallizes. “Of course!” I smack my palm to my forehead. How could I have missed that key piece of information? Sully and I have watched the goings and comings of the warehouse for two weeks straight and not once have the Urthmen bothered to secure the front gate to the compound. “The gate is left open the whole time!” My eyes widen with enthusiasm.

  “That’s right,” Sully drawls with a nod. “When they come for a pickup, we’ll wait until they’re all in the building, and then we sneak in through the gate.”

  My mind is spinning, a thrill of fidgety eagerness propelling it. I’m trying to lessen our chances of being discovered.

  Remembering the wild bushes that grow near the outer portion of the wall, I scoop my binoculars from the ground and raise them to my eyes. Immediately, the plants jump out at me as if ringed in a neon color. “We can hide there,” I say and point.

  Sully leans in close to me, his upper arm brushing my shoulder. I feel the steely cords of muscle beneath his shirt, and awareness of his close proximity blazes a fiery trail across my skin. His scent fills my nostrils. Grass and a spice I cannot name fuse with another leathery note. It is a scent I’ve come to identify as his alone. “Show me where,” he says, his face so close to mine our cheeks practically touch.

  Swallowing hard and leaning away, I answer, “There. Right there,” as I point to the cluster of undergrowth that hugs the barrier.

  He squints and looks through the lenses of his binoculars. “Oh, okay. I see,” he says. “So we wait in those shrubs, until they go in?”

  I take another look for myself and scan the small portion of the property that’s visible. “Remember the other day when we snuck up and looked in the gate?” I ask.

  “You mean the day you said you weren’t waiting around anymore and ran over there without even discussing it first? That day?”

  I blush at his recount of the lead-up to our venture. “Yeah, that day,” I say.

  “Okay, what about it? You know, other than learning that you’re kind of reckless.”

  “Reckless?” My voice pitches up an octave, making plain my outrage. “Are you kidding me? Me, reckless?” I start, determined to scold him.

  “Don’t misunderstand me, Avery. I meant it as a compliment,” he says with a calm smirk. “You’re tough. I like that. You take care of June and yourself and you don’t back down.” He rolls onto his side and props himself up on one elbow so that his entire body faces me. He looks so relaxed and comfortable, I expect him to yawn at any moment. I, on the other hand, feel anything but relaxed. He reaches out a hand and touches a ringlet of my hair near the small of my back, coiling it around his finger. His hand brushes against me. I feel it through the thin fabric of my shirt. “I like your hair down. It’s so wild—”

  A wave of pinpricks whispers up my spine, causing goose bumps to cover my flesh. My cheeks burn; the exhilarating, terrifying sensation reddens them. “Okay,” I say and halt any further discussion of me or my hair. He withdraws his hand slowly, smiling, always smiling that lopsided grin of his. I gnash my molars, and hope he doesn’t see my scarlet cheeks, though that would be impossible considering that my head likely glows like a flame. I clear my throat and take a deep breath to calm myself. “Getting back to the day we saw what’s beyond the gate. Remember those little wooden shacks?”

  Sully bobs his head, recognition flickering in his features. “That’s right. The sheds,” he says in a low voice.

  My brain is working quickly, organizing the details as I envision us within the protective walls of the fuel fortress. “We hide in one of the sheds until they leave.”

  “The Urthmen inside, we’ll kill them as soon as the truck leaves. We can pop out of the sheds and catch them off-guard,” Sully states.

  I gnaw my lower lip and contemplate his statement. “No,” I answer. “No, that wouldn’t be wise. We don’t know what kind of warning system they have in place.”

  “Warning system?” Sully asks incredulously. “Are you kidding me? They’re morons! They don’t even lock the gate to keep out bad guys, like us.” He winks at me jauntily.

  “Be that as it may,” I say with a small chuckle. “You never know. And I don’t want to take any chances, risk any lives.”

  “Yeah, I know one life you don’t want to risk,” Sully mumbles with an edge that unsettles me.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask sharply, even though I know he’s referring to Will.

  “What?” he asks absently, as if he hasn’t been involved in our conversation in the least. “Oh no, nothing, just that you know, we don’t want to lose anyone. Everyone is too important.” His eyes rove more than usual, refusing to meet my gaze. I get the impression he doesn’t believe what he’s said any more than I do.

  “Hmm, okay,” I say and don’t bother to hide my doubt. “As far as the Urthmen are concerned, I think we should let them leave, as usual.”

  Sully scratches his chin thoughtfully as he nods in agreement, but freezes, an idea dawning on him. “Yeah, but you’re forgetting that they lock the gate when they leave. How will we get out of there?”

  “We’ve watched them hang the key to the lock on the wall right inside the front door every day after they let the truck in. I hope that’s not the only key. That that’s not the one they use when they leave.”

  “Well if the key is not there, we’ll have to blow the lock last thing before we leave. I know it’s not what either of us wants to happen, but what’s the alternative, being stuck inside until daybreak?”

  “You’re right,” I add solemnly. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that, because then we’re back to square one. Blowing the gate will send Urthmen rushing back and they’ll know what we’ve done. We’ll never be able to come back to get the barrels out of the woods.”

  We had planned to hide the gasoline in the nearby woods taking just enough to put into the camper, so we could come back and retrieve the rest.

  Sully tunnels his fingers through his sandy blonde hair. He blows a stream of air from between his lips then says, “Let’s hope we don’t have to.”

  Silence fills the space between us. Somehow, even the sounds of the forest are drowned out by the thoughts whizzing around in my mind. Tomorrow is the day we will enter the Urthmen’s lair and steal our ticket to freedom.

  “Let’s get out of here. I think we’ve seen all we need to see,” Sully says and stands.

  “Agreed,” I say as I scramble to a standing position, too. I dust the lea
ves and dirt from my clothes then take a last look at the building before turning to go.

  We head toward Sully’s hideaway, careful to remain in the wooded area far enough from the road that we can’t be seen. Leaving Sully’s place at all has become dangerous in the last few weeks, even more so than usual. Urthmen have been scouring the region since Prince Neo was killed. They are looking for us. Going to the fuel repository has been extraordinarily hazardous, yet Sully and I have made the trip fourteen consecutive days. During each, I’ve missed June and Will and his siblings. By the time I return in the late afternoon, the time to eat and get ready for bed is upon us, with only the promise of repeating the day’s events looming on the horizon. This night will be different, a fact that makes me want to run full-speed back to Sully’s.

  I quicken my pace without thinking, and a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. June won’t be happy to learn of our intent to break into the warehouse. She’ll protest that it’s unsafe. Everything is unsafe at this point, every move we make beyond the confines of the storm cellar. Once I explain to her that the task is a necessary final step in getting us to the underground city, I’m sure she’ll come around. In the meantime, I just can’t wait to see her face.

  A rumble accompanied by the sound of raised voices freezes me dead in my tracks. Sully’s arm shoots out to stop me, to protect me if I were dumb enough to move a muscle.

  My head snaps in the direction of the sound before my gaze rests on his. His brow is low and his eyes are narrowed. Not perceiving a threat in our immediate vicinity, we take tentative steps away from the path we’re on and toward the section of the forest that thins and meets with asphalt.

  Crouching and moving gingerly, we stop at a safe distance from the road so that we remain unseen. We conceal ourselves behind young trees with tapered trunks and slim branches, and watch a convoy that has stopped.

  “Get down,” Sully urges me. “It’s another patrol,” he says of the rows of visible Urthmen.