Exile

by S. M. Wilson

  Terror. Wonder. Survival.

  Welcome to the Continent of Monsters…

  To ensure the survival of the human race, three killer species must be destroyed. It’s a deadly mission – one that Storm and Lincoln are not allowed to refuse.

  But in the jaws of danger, would you obey orders – or fight for the secret that might save those you love?

  The Extinction Trials is S. M. Wilson’s first teen series. She lives with her family on the west coast of Scotland.

  susan-wilson.com

  @susanwilsonbook

  #ExtinctionTrials

  Books by S. M. Wilson:

  The Extinction Trials

  The Extinction Trials: Exile

  CONTENTS

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  TITLE PAGE

  DEDICATION

  PART ONE: EARTHASIA

  CHAPTER ONE: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER TWO: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER THREE: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER FOUR: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER FIVE: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER SIX: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER SEVEN: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER EIGHT: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER NINE: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER TEN: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER TWELVE: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER TWENTY: STORMCHASER

  PART TWO: THE OCEAN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: STORMCHASER

  PART THREE: PILORIA

  DAY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: STORMCHASER

  DAY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER THIRTY: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: LINCOLN

  DAY THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: STORMCHASER

  DAY FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER FORTY: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: STORMCHASER

  DAY FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: STORMCHASER

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN: LINCOLN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT: STORMCHASER

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  LOVE THIS BOOK? LOVE USBORNE YA

  COPYRIGHT PAGE

  This book is dedicated to my mum and dad, Ian and Joanne Wilson, who have continued to support my writing, are my biggest fans and champion my stories everywhere. God blessed me with wonderful parents.

  This book is also dedicated to my own three personal heroes, Kevin, Elliott and Rhys Bain xxx

  Everything was white. And he hated that more than anything.

  Bright lights and whiteness seemed to make the sick look even sicker. It was certainly the case for his sister.

  He was tempted to close his eyes as he hurried along the corridor of the medico care centre, just to stop the glare of the whiteness. Even the labs weren’t this bright. Their walls were a drab grey. He was lucky to get away from his work there. They were so busy right now. His visit to the dinosaur continent, Piloria, a month ago had quickly been forgotten. Life was back to normal – if you could call it that.

  But no wonder. Lincoln hadn’t won anything. He hadn’t aced the final test. He’d almost lost out on this chance of care for his sister. If Storm hadn’t stepped in…

  He shook off his thoughts as he hurried the last few steps towards the door to Arta’s room. As if she’d heard his approach, it swung open and Storm stepped out into the corridor.

  For the briefest of seconds, her violet eyes met his. In less than the blink of an eye, the smile fell from her face and her hand dropped from waving goodbye to Arta back to her side.

  He could see something forming on her lips, but then she changed her mind, spun around, with her long brown hair fanning out, and stomped off down the corridor.

  He could swear she left an icy blast in her wake.

  One month on and she still hadn’t forgiven him. Still hadn’t forgiven him for trying to save his family.

  Storm was now staying in a house. Hardly anyone had a proper house in Ambulus City. The trouble with Storm’s was that it now sheltered all the brothers and sisters of Rune and Kronar – their two teammates who had died on Piloria. Lincoln’s sister, Arta, should also have been there, but she’d been so sick she’d only made it to the care centre.

  Sixteen people in one house. He almost shuddered to think of Storm moving from her own small room in the Shelters to her new crowded home. The noise levels, the chaos, the fights between siblings – Storm was used to none of this. She had switched from one extreme to the other.

  She was lucky though. Space was at such a premium on Earthasia that the majority of families lived in the cramped tower blocks or caves. He and his mother were still in the caves. Another family had even moved in alongside them. They slept in shifts. It was claustrophobic.

  But at least Arta had health care now. The whole week he’d been on Piloria that was all he’d really cared about – winning the prize that could save her life and praying she’d survive until he came home.

  He swallowed and pushed open the door. Arta was lying against the white sheets, her skin so pale she almost blended in with them. Her face broke into a smile as she saw him and she winced as she shifted against her pillows.

  One month. That was how long she’d been here. And even though part of Storm’s rewards had been health care for her and her “family”, the Stipulators had already started to grumble about Arta being so unwell and taking up so many resources.

  But although Storm seemed to hate Lincoln for his betrayal, she didn’t carry that hatred over to his sister. In fact, she was a formidable advocate. She argued with the health staff at every opportunity. Any time she thought Arta’s care fell short, she reminded them of her time on the dinosaur continent. She told them about the T-rex, the deinosuchus, the pterosaurs, the raptors. She told them about how many Finalists had been lost – sometimes in graphic detail. According to Arta, it always seemed to help the medico staff focus their efforts on trying to get her blistering skin disease under control.

  “Lincoln.” Arta’s voice came out as little more than a gasp. Despite the health care, her disease was still progressing, although slower than before. She held out her fragile hand towards him.

  Her arm was bound with bandages, cream smeared over her hands. Cracks were visible in her paper-thin skin, and her fingers were red and swollen.

  Lincoln took his sister’s hand as gently as possible. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get away from the lab any sooner. It’s so busy.”

  She nodded, then winced. Even tiny movements were becoming painful. “What’s happening?”

  He shook his head as he sat down in the chair next to her bed. “There’s just so many more people working there now. Maybe a thousand. Some days I can barely move. Apparently it’s the same in all the labs on
the continent.”

  Arta wrinkled her brow. “Is everyone working on the same thing? Is it all the dinosaur DNA?”

  Lincoln’s stomach gave a little flip. The dinosaur DNA that Storm had been so against letting the Stipulators have. It still made him cringe that he’d tried to hand it over and steal the credit for himself.

  “Do you really get to work on it yourself?” asked Arta.

  He smiled and shook his head. “Not really. I get to do more minor things. Preparing slides. Pulling off reports. Checking rates. They are so desperate to find something. To find anything they think will kill the dinosaurs. It’s round-the-clock work.”

  His sister gently brushed her fingers against his. “Are you getting any sleep?” Her voice lowered. “Are you getting any food?”

  He gave her a weak smile. “Some. Regular rations are fine.” He tried his best to appear brighter. “Your cheeks have filled out a little. Did you manage to eat today?”

  It was easier to turn the conversation back around. His body still hadn’t adjusted. There had been unlimited food during the Trials and on the ship to and from Piloria. While on the dinosaur continent they’d existed on ration packs and whatever they could find, but the surprise was that a whole host of other foods seemed to grow there – some rich, some odd, and some that had strange effects on the body. It was so different from their own continent, Earthasia – here, the land had been overworked and food production was at a minimum.

  Since that final Trial when they’d arrived home – the Trial to claim ownership of the dinosaur eggs, the Trial that he’d lost – Lincoln had been back on normal rations. The hunger pains he felt now almost made him wish he’d never been exposed to the unlimited food.

  Arta gave a nod. “I had some soup. And something creamy. I’m not quite sure what they called it. But it was sweet. It was nice.”

  “Good.” He glanced towards the door. “What did Storm want?”

  Arta looked uncomfortable. It didn’t matter how much Lincoln wanted to shield her, she’d seen his behaviour. She’d watched him try to claim the eggs as his own, then take part in the Trial to try to win them again. She knew exactly what Storm thought of her brother.

  “She visits every other day. She checks my skin, my breathing.” Arta gave a little smile. “She argues with the medico. She tells him he has to do better. She keeps asking him about a cure.” Arta’s voice got quieter. “But we both know there’s no cure. Apparently one of Rune’s brothers – Cornelius – is getting sick too.”

  Lincoln felt a prickle down his spine. What if the health care he’d risked everything for wasn’t enough? Maybe it was time to try something else. Anything else. He pushed his hand into his pocket and kept his voice low. “I found something. I don’t know, but maybe it’s worth a try.”

  Arta pulled back as he held out a scrap of cloth to her and a pungent smell filled the room. “Eurgh. What is that?”

  It didn’t look – or smell – entirely pleasant. The contents, a coiled leaf, had decayed and practically turned to mush, melding with the ointment inside it. “This is what we used on Piloria for healing my dinosaur bites.” He paused as he tried to find the words – neither he nor Storm had mentioned Blaine’s existence to anyone since they’d come home. Lincoln didn’t know how to start telling the story of the exiled Stipulator who survived alone on Piloria and had made this medicine.

  She wrinkled her nose again as he pulled up his trouser leg. “Look, the wound on my leg healed really quickly. No infection.” He shook his head, as he still couldn’t really believe it himself. “I thought it was only for deep wounds. Mum tidied my bag away when I got back, and I just found it again last night. Maybe it could help your skin.”

  She shook her head. “You want me to smell like that?”

  He held up his hands. “Well, are the other creams helping? Do you feel any better?” It was hard to keep the frustration from his voice.

  She paused for a second then licked her lips. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. They’re trying five different ones. One for each limb and another on my back and chest.” She sighed. “I’m not sure any of them make that much difference.” She stared down at her bandaged arms and lifted one a little. “They take these off and everything just looks…the same.”

  He smiled as he held up the decomposing leaf again. “Then give mine a try. Just on a small patch of skin. Pick a spot and we’ll see what it can do.” He tried his best to sound convincing. “The smell isn’t that bad.”

  He opened the leaf to expose the ointment and the waft almost overcame his senses. Piloria. He could practically hear the noise of the insects, feel the warmth in the air and sense the earth shake beneath him with the thundering footsteps of the dinosaurs. He almost gagged.

  Arta wrinkled her nose for a few seconds then pointed at the crook of her arm. “Okay, you can put a tiny bit here. But that’s all. And you better find somewhere to put that or it will stink out my room. They’ll wonder what the smell is.”

  Lincoln walked around to the other side of the bed and smeared a little of the green ointment on the inside of Arta’s arm. He opened the door of the storage box next to her and rummaged among the care-centre gowns, depositing the wrapped-up leaf near the back.

  He hesitated. “I might not make it in tomorrow. So remember where it is. And put a little more on. You never know. It might just help.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe you – but I’ll try.” He bent to kiss her cheek and she whispered in his ear, “Tell Mum I’ll try and hide some food for her tomorrow.”

  Lincoln shook his head. “Don’t, it’s too dangerous. They’re already suspicious of this arrangement. We mustn’t give them any reason to refuse you care.” He gently squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll try and get back tomorrow.”

  Arta sighed and sagged back against the pillows. Entertaining two guests in a row was clearly too much for her.

  He closed the door quietly as her eyes flickered shut, and took a deep breath. Arta didn’t look better. One month of health care and unlimited rations hadn’t had the effect that he’d hoped for.

  Had the journey to the dinosaur continent all been for nothing?

  She couldn’t go back to the house. The noise was overwhelming.

  Instead, she’d come to the only place that gave her a little solace, a familiarity that she craved – the loch.

  She’d gone from living alone to living in a house with fifteen other people.

  When the Stipulators had offered preferred housing for the winner of the eggs, they’d assumed it would be a person with one family. Not the equivalent of three. But when she’d stood on that stage being declared the winner, and looked at the large families of her dead comrades, she couldn’t just do nothing. There had been no thought. No reasoning behind it. So now she had Rune’s and Kronar’s brothers and sisters filling the home that she’d been given. And they were loud. They fought all the time. Sometimes they cried. And they didn’t all attend school the way they should, even though it was only one day a week.

  One of Rune’s sisters was sick with the blistering plague, and now one of his brothers was falling ill too. But they were nowhere near as bad as Arta. They only had to go to the care centre one day a week for some creams, so far. Storm was just hoping they wouldn’t get any worse.

  She hadn’t thought any of this through. She hadn’t thought at all. She’d just acted on instinct and let her heart rule her head. Now, she was paying the consequences.

  Maybe, if their parents had been allowed to stay with them in the house, there would be some element of control. But that was impossible, it would expose her lies. After all, she’d claimed that she and all her supposed siblings were the product of the same absent father.

  Only her father wasn’t absent. Her father was the Chief Stipulator. The one who’d sent them all to Piloria on a virtual suicide mission, to collect dinosaur eggs for their DNA. The man who’d never admitted who he was. Who’d left her to fend for herself when her mother had
died.

  Storm settled down at the edge of the loch and took a few deep breaths. Her shoulders ached and her head thumped. Winning all the rewards hadn’t changed the fact she still had a job to do. After an assessment at school, she’d been working the hay bales since she was twelve. The hard, physical work suited her. She’d deliberately performed badly on every subsequent assessment the school had given her. She didn’t want to end up in the factory like Dell, or the lab like Lincoln, and performing badly meant she remained in her menial job. Which was exactly what she wanted.

  Lugging hay bales had always seemed like solid work. She liked being outdoors. But even the hay bales were changing consistency. They were less densely packed. The land here was virtually barren. Overworked and overused, with no nutrients left, the crop fields in Earthasia were almost as grey as the buildings.

  Coming from the green openness of Piloria back to the never-ending buildings of Ambulus City had affected her more than she’d realized.

  If she closed her eyes for a few seconds she could remember it. The bright shades of green she’d never seen before. The splashes of colour – red and orange – in the middle of the jungle. Grass for as far as the eye could see. If she focused really hard, she could remember the rich smells, and the noise of the rustling leaves. Was it wrong to miss the landscape of Piloria?

  Even now, at the edge of the loch, the backdrop of buildings against the purple sky seemed to be closing in on her.

  “Hey.” Dell thudded down beside her. “How did I know you would be here?”

  She let out a deep breath and leaned her head on her knees. “Because I can’t hear myself think at home?”

  Dell shifted on the shingle. “Them’s the breaks.”

  Storm swallowed. When she’d been standing on that stage after the Trial, with adrenaline surging through her system, she hadn’t thought about Dell – the only person who’d felt like family in the last six years, since her mother died. She hadn’t thought about Leif – her fellow competitor – and his brothers and sisters. Rune and Kronar had been lost on Piloria. They’d lost their lives to try to provide for their families. It had seemed only fitting that she claimed all their brothers and sisters as family members, to share in her prize.