Read Online Planet Urth by Jennifer Martucci, Christopher Martucci - Free Book Online Page A

mother. 
    When finally I was able to draw a breath, I heard a female scream tear through the chaotic grunts of the Urthmen and soon realized the scream was mine.  And I wasn’t the only one to realize this. 
    The Urthmen spun to face me.  “Get th e humans.” One pointed a blunt, stubby finger at us, as his voice scraped like metal against metal. 
    But before he could say another word or make a move toward us, his head was lopped from his body.  It tumbled from his neck and landed against the ground with a thud.  Two of the others with him turned and were carved at their waists.  They dropped to the earth below, eviscerated like the animals they were. 
    When they fell, I saw my father square off with the last of the Urthmen in the tunnel, and for the first time in my life I saw him as the fierce warrior he was.  He looked deadly. 
    The Urthma n swung his club recklessly several times.  My father dodged his attack with the calm and poise of a predator.  The next swing the beast took was met with my father’s blade.  His sword glinted in the glow of the fallen torches right before it cleaved the Urthman’s arm.  The arm fell to the ground, and my father immediately veered and decapitated the monster. 
    For a moment, my father just watched the fallen Urthmen, his chest heaving.  Then he fell to his knees, to where my mother’s body lay still, and released a guttural cry of agony so profound, I felt as if my bones shook. 
    I wanted to go to him, to crumple into his arms and cry until my body was emptied of tears.  But the sound of footsteps approaching kept me in place, still holding June.  My father stood and ran toward me. He ripped June from my arms, then flung both of us over his shoulders.  He took off, away from the looming Urthnmen, and sprinted faster than I thought was humanly possible.
    Each step he took punished my ribs and back as I jerked and flopped against him.  But none of the physical pain I felt compared to the heartache of witnessing my mother being murdered. 
    When we reached the end of the seemingly endless tunnel, my father stopped and began kicking a thick log.
    “Come on,” he spat as he continued to kick a support beam.
    “Dad, put me down.  I’ll help!” I shouted above the ferocious cries of the Urthmen echoing down the passageway.
    He placed me on my feet and I helped him.  We kicked until the rafter gave way and he gripped my wrist.  We ran several yards then stopped again.  We climbed out of the tunnel.  We were in the forest.  It was dark and damp and there was a nip in the air.  Bare tree limbs gashed the night sky, black and skeletal against the navy heavens.  The musky, moldy scent of fallen leaves that I would’ve usually found pleasant terrified me.  I knew that Lurkers waited, their movement muffled by the hoots and calls of nocturnal hunters.  My father placed June in my arms, and then dug with his hands through leaves and brush until he pulled a length of thick rope from it.  He leaned back, pulling it with every ounce of his weight, until the sound of wood splintering snapped through the night.  Another beam toppled, only this time it was followed by a low growl, deep in the bowels of the dirt.  The growl rolled and shook, and I understood in that instant that the tunnel had been booby-trapped.  The passageway was collapsing on itself. 
    Chunks of soil sprayed as it caved in.  Pebbles flew in every direction and pelted us.  Confused shouts turned to wails of agony as the Urthmen were buried alive.  But we did not stay to hear them go silent.  We ran. 
    That was six years ago. 
    Six years have not dulled the pain I feel each time I dream of that night. 
    I swipe beneath my eyes with the tips of my fingers to clear the tears there.  I do not want to risk June waking and seeing me like this.  She does not remember what happened.  She is lucky.  
    Each day since my mother was killed, I regret that her body was left behind, that she