Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2) by Jennifer Martucci, Christopher Martucci Page B
Authors: Jennifer Martucci, Christopher Martucci
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that pops into my mind when I see them disappear through a doorway, out of the dining area, all the while with Ross’ watchful gaze bolted to them.
“Aren’t they going to eat with us?” I ask.
Ross tears his eyes from the entryway the women just slipped through then looks at me absently. “Huh?” he asks.
“The women, aren’t they going to eat with us?” I repeat my question.
“Ah, no,” the old man who was said to be Tal’s father answers with a chuckle. “Nobody wants to look at their ugly faces while they eat. Ha!” he laughs and puffs out his chest, proud of the joke he thinks he’s made.
“Dad, that’s not true,” Tal says tightly and shoots his father a grim look. “They just prefer to eat in the kitchen with their children.” He looks at me again and offers an unnatural smile.
“ Their children, as in those babies belong to them ?” I ask incredulously. The words spill from me before I can stop them. My shock at his statement overwhelms me too quickly.
Tal’s smile falters for a split-second. “Yes, they do,” he answers after immediately regaining his composure. “Those women aren’t as old as they look. They’ve just had hard lives.”
“Yeah, who hasn’t,” Will shocks me by saying.
His statement surprises me almost as much as the slightly embarrassed look on his face. He shifts uncomfortably and begins a conversation about tales his parents told him about how women and men used to pamper themselves before the war.
“My father and mother shared stories they’d heard from their ancestors through the generations about all sorts of thing s men and women used to do when human beings ruled the planet,” Will commands the attention of a small group of men from the compound. Little by little, I am getting edged out of the circle. “They would go to places called salons and have chemicals put on their hair, poison really, that would change its color or texture.” A ripple of laughter erupts along with a series of affirmations that a few among them had heard similar accounts. “Yeah, and if that’s not enough, they would go to places and have stuff injected into their faces to try to make themselves look younger.”
“I remember hearing something like that from my grandpa,” the old man, Tal’s father, says. “Wish someone could’ve saved some of that junk. We sure could use it here,” he says and laughs so hard he is beset by a coughing fit.
“Yeah, we could use it on the hags in the kitchen!” an unfamiliar voice chimes in. “That would make things a lot easier for us.”
My insides simmer. I wonder what exactly the man’s last sentence is supposed to mean. How would the women’s appearances make anything easier for them? I would love to ask, but Will is still addressing them.
“ The way people acted centuries ago, it’s no wonder the world collapsed. Humans back then were completely crazy!” Will says.
Hoots and laughter break out all around me. The moment seems surreal. I am supremely uncomfortable and Will, who I thought shared my nervousness about the men, has officially been accepted by just about every man in the room. I try to catch his eye as he is led to the table and offered a pile of what looks to be boart meat. June and Riley sidle up next to me while Oliver is swept away on the all-male current. When they are seated, we sit and do not wait to be served. We fill a plate with meat and eat.
“I hear women used to have people suck the fat from their backsides and shoot it into their lips,” Tal’s father says as his gravelly voice rises above the others. He puckers his lips and forces them outward. “They would look like this and think they were pretty,” he struggles to talk while holding his mouth positioned as it is which causes an eruption of laughter.
“Oh man, you look like you have a duckbill or fish lips or something,’” one of the men says.
“He does!”
“Aren’t they going to eat with us?” I ask.
Ross tears his eyes from the entryway the women just slipped through then looks at me absently. “Huh?” he asks.
“The women, aren’t they going to eat with us?” I repeat my question.
“Ah, no,” the old man who was said to be Tal’s father answers with a chuckle. “Nobody wants to look at their ugly faces while they eat. Ha!” he laughs and puffs out his chest, proud of the joke he thinks he’s made.
“Dad, that’s not true,” Tal says tightly and shoots his father a grim look. “They just prefer to eat in the kitchen with their children.” He looks at me again and offers an unnatural smile.
“ Their children, as in those babies belong to them ?” I ask incredulously. The words spill from me before I can stop them. My shock at his statement overwhelms me too quickly.
Tal’s smile falters for a split-second. “Yes, they do,” he answers after immediately regaining his composure. “Those women aren’t as old as they look. They’ve just had hard lives.”
“Yeah, who hasn’t,” Will shocks me by saying.
His statement surprises me almost as much as the slightly embarrassed look on his face. He shifts uncomfortably and begins a conversation about tales his parents told him about how women and men used to pamper themselves before the war.
“My father and mother shared stories they’d heard from their ancestors through the generations about all sorts of thing s men and women used to do when human beings ruled the planet,” Will commands the attention of a small group of men from the compound. Little by little, I am getting edged out of the circle. “They would go to places called salons and have chemicals put on their hair, poison really, that would change its color or texture.” A ripple of laughter erupts along with a series of affirmations that a few among them had heard similar accounts. “Yeah, and if that’s not enough, they would go to places and have stuff injected into their faces to try to make themselves look younger.”
“I remember hearing something like that from my grandpa,” the old man, Tal’s father, says. “Wish someone could’ve saved some of that junk. We sure could use it here,” he says and laughs so hard he is beset by a coughing fit.
“Yeah, we could use it on the hags in the kitchen!” an unfamiliar voice chimes in. “That would make things a lot easier for us.”
My insides simmer. I wonder what exactly the man’s last sentence is supposed to mean. How would the women’s appearances make anything easier for them? I would love to ask, but Will is still addressing them.
“ The way people acted centuries ago, it’s no wonder the world collapsed. Humans back then were completely crazy!” Will says.
Hoots and laughter break out all around me. The moment seems surreal. I am supremely uncomfortable and Will, who I thought shared my nervousness about the men, has officially been accepted by just about every man in the room. I try to catch his eye as he is led to the table and offered a pile of what looks to be boart meat. June and Riley sidle up next to me while Oliver is swept away on the all-male current. When they are seated, we sit and do not wait to be served. We fill a plate with meat and eat.
“I hear women used to have people suck the fat from their backsides and shoot it into their lips,” Tal’s father says as his gravelly voice rises above the others. He puckers his lips and forces them outward. “They would look like this and think they were pretty,” he struggles to talk while holding his mouth positioned as it is which causes an eruption of laughter.
“Oh man, you look like you have a duckbill or fish lips or something,’” one of the men says.
“He does!”
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