Planet Urth by Jennifer Martucci, Christopher Martucci

want to come, if it will save their lives.” She levels her sharp gaze at me.  She looks so much like my father my heart clenches.  She has his fire, his commitment.  I see it plainly now. 
    “Okay.  I will invite them here,” I agree.  “You’re right. We cannot leave them to die.”
    “Good,” she says, and somehow, she looks as if she’s aged in the moments that have passed. 
    “You will stay here and ready this place for our company.  After we wash and eat, I need you to help me move the boulder to cover the opening so that you are as concealed as possible,” I tell her.  Her spine lengthens at news that she has a job.  “I will leave enough room for you and me to get in and out of the cave, but that’s it.  When the family gets here, we can open it further.  But while I am gone, I don’t want to take any chances,” I say firmly, and then add in a faltering voice, “You are too important to me.”
    I do not like entertaining the possibility of ever losing June.  I am sickened by the idea of leaving her, but taking her is not an option. 
    “I will be fine here,” she says.  “And I will get everything ready.  You have nothing to worry about.  Our new guests will feel welcome and comfortable.”
    I want to tell her that I high ly doubt any of us will ever feel welcome or comfortable in these woods after knowing Urthmen were here, but I keep that grim thought to myself.  She is calmer, and that’s all I care about.  If I am to fight for my life, I must preserve the one who is most important to me, the person I fight for, the person I live for.  My sister must remain as safe as possible, as healthy as possible, and as happy as possible in this sinister world we live in.  June must live for me to live to fight another day. 
     

Chapter 9
     
    My heart pumps frantically and echoes the hurried pace of my footsteps as I journey through the forest toward the outer banks to warn the family near the lake.  My insides quiver and my mouth is dry, but I know the option to chicken out does not exist.  I must overcome my overwhelming anxiety and go to them.  Lives are at stake, five to be exact, and that’s not including June and I. 
    Despite the direness of the situation, the thought of crossing the thin s trip of woods and coming face to face with them makes the contents of my full belly somersault endlessly.  For once, having breakfast seems to be working against me.  Every time I picture myself approaching the family, my food threatens to launch up my esophagus.  I take deep breaths to calm myself, but they are of little help.  I am still a nervous wreck.  But I must warn them.  I must warn the boy with the shimmering eyes. 
    Just thinking of him sends a jolt from my stomach to my feet.  My knees feel weak.  I realize my fear is less about the mother, father, and younger children than it is about the boy who looks close to my age.  Thinking about standing arm’s length from him makes me lightheaded.  Speaking to him might make me faint. 
    What if I faint?  The question whirls through my head.  What if I see the boy with the aquamarine eyes, faint, and never even warn him and his family that they are in danger?  I will make a complete fool of myself and fail to accomplish the task I set out to achieve.  The worry joins the multitude of other worries swimming around in my brain and worsens the tumbling in my belly.  The last thing I need right now is to play out possible scenarios in my mind, especially ones that involve me failing, fainting, or falling.  Imagining any of those possibilities works against my waning courage.  I will get there in one piece, still standing, and I will warn them. 
    I continue repeating that sentence in my head over and over.  It becomes a rally cry as I slip through the forest.  But with each step I take, the challenges to my self-confidence are replaced by the sensation that I am not alone. 
    I quiet my racing thoughts and focus every