The Extinction Series | Book 1 | Primordial Earth

by Higgins, Baileigh

  “I’m afraid it’s Mr. Douglas’ decision. He’s the owner of this hotel, and we’re full up,” the woman replied with a cold expression. “You can be glad you made it in time. As it is, you’ll have to work to earn your keep. This is not a charity organization.”

  “But…that’s wrong!”

  “That’s the way it is, Mrs. Marshall. If you don’t like it, you and your children can leave.”

  “She’s not my mother,” Kat said in an expressionless voice.

  “Either way. You can go if you want. Now’s your chance,” the woman said before moving toward the next bundle of people waiting in line.

  Corinne shook her head, one hand pressed to her lips. “We can’t leave. It’s not safe out there.”

  “No, it’s not,” Kat said. “For better or worse, we’re here now, and we have to stay.”

  Lillian listened to it all with growing confusion. Meantime, the crowd at the gate was gathering momentum. Their anger grew palpable, and several men stormed the entrance.

  Without hesitation, the police opened fire on the crowd. A hot stream of lead cut through the refugees and several people collapsed to the ground with screams of pain—women, children, and men alike. The rest streamed away from the hotel in a panic. Soon, the field in front of the hotel was empty but for the corpses of those who’d died.

  With a horrified cry, Corinne hustled Lillian and Kat away from the sight. She was too late, though. They could never unsee what they’d seen, and the guilt of that moment would haunt them forever.

  Chapter 19

  Rogue shot upright, her heart banging in her chest. Sweat poured from her skin despite the chill in the air, and her bedroll lay pooled around her ankles. She shook her head, willing the memories of her past into the recesses of her mind. That was where they belonged, not haunting her every waking dream. I wish it would stop. I don’t want to remember those days.

  She jumped when a crack of lightning cut through the air, followed by a deep rumble of thunder. Seconds later, the first drops of rain pattered onto the beach. Shivering, she huddled closer to her fire, feeding twigs to the flames until she had a proper blaze.

  It didn’t take long for the cave to warm. Just in time too. The rain turned into a downpour, sheets of water pouring from the thundering clouds. Luckily, the beach sloped down to the embankment, so her space remained dry. The wind howled around the corners, and she hoped the river didn’t flood. That would be the end of her.

  With a tentative touch, Rogue examined the bandages around her calf. Her leg felt hot and swollen, but it didn’t hurt much. She hoped that meant it was healing, and she heated a cup of water to drink.

  With her blanket pulled around her shoulders, Rogue stared into the coals. Yellow, red, and orange, the flickering flames formed all sorts of haunting shapes. Despite her efforts to forget, she remembered once again those first few months in Prime Hotel. Or rather, outside Prime Hotel for she never had the privilege to set foot inside its opulent walls.

  While the rest of the Portland survivors sought safety in places unknown, Prime Hotel continued to grow. Armed parties went out daily to gather supplies, stripping the city of all its resources. The wall became thicker and higher by the day until it towered thirty feet tall.

  The hotel itself was finished within record time and furnished with every luxury that Douglas could get his grubby hands on. It became home to the wealthy and prominent, Douglas’ cronies and those who provided valuable services such as Sikes.

  Crops were sown in the open fields, wells dug, and fruit orchards planted to provide fresh food. Animals were gathered and set up in barns and cages, but dino meat soon became the most common form of protein. A system of aqueducts and fountains piped water to public spaces, and a market square was set up to enable bartering of goods. Crude coins were minted as a form of payment for services.

  At first, it wasn’t too bad. People gladly traded their freedom for a safe haven. Inside Prime, they had food, water, and safety. Anything was better than the outside world with its myriad of dangers. Or so they were told every day by Douglas and his ilk.

  But, it didn’t take long for the ugly side to emerge.

  The refugees worked as slaves for every crumb that passed their lips while the rest lounged in luxury. The city operated on a mixture of old and new technology, with the former being reserved for the poor. Those that scrounged for a living within its walls soon forgot about their past lives. It evoked nothing but misery.

  Pubs and brothels abounded, with homemade liquor brewed in hidden basements. Women desperate for a meal sold their bodies to anyone willing to part with a coin. Able-bodied men with a thirst for power were provided with weapons and uniforms. Thus, the Watch was created.

  The only people allowed outside were the raiding and hunting parties. In the beginning, they went out daily, but the outings dwindled as the supplies grew less and less. When a Spinosaurus nearly broke down the gates, they were walled up, and the platform was built.

  The hotel and its surroundings grew upon itself and took on a life and culture of its own. Douglas became Senator Douglas, and Sikes was promoted to the rank of General. Arbitrary laws were passed with the death sentence meted out for the smallest of infractions. Babies died in the womb, and outbreaks of fever and cholera decimated the population. Still, the hotel endured. A living canker on the face of the earth. A prison for those caught within its walls.

  Prime City was born.

  Rogue sighed. The sights and smells of her time spent within the walled city were still fresh in her memory. It was true that life on the outside was hard. She likely wouldn’t survive on her own for much longer. But she’d rather die than go back. Out here, she had her freedom, and she’d be damned if she ever gave that up again.

  For a brief moment, she wondered what became of all those who never made it into Prime. Did they die? Become food for the dinosaurs? Or was it true that survivors still existed like Moran claimed? It was possible, she supposed, and she’d promised Moran she’d look for them. Yet how would she find them? I don’t have the faintest idea where to start.

  Around her meager shelter, the storm continued to rage. Exhaustion dragged at her limbs, and her wound throbbed painfully. She swallowed another handful of pain pills and finished the cup of hot water.

  Turning away from the fire, she curled up inside her bedroll. She needed to rest and heal. Who knew what the new day might bring? In the ancient world, each dawn was a new beginning. One that also carried the possibility of a swift and brutal end. The sooner she was back to full strength, the better.

  Chapter 20

  Rogue struggled upright with a groan. She hadn’t slept well, haunted by nightmares of death and dinosaurs. Her skin was slick with sweat, and her leg throbbed painfully. A quick exam proved the infection was growing worse. Yellow pus oozed from the stitches, and the leg was hot to the touch.

  With a muttered curse, she disinfected the wound before wrapping it with a clean bandage. Outside, the storm raged on despite the dawn. She stoked the fire, eyeing her dwindling supply of firewood. She hoped it would last until the rain passed. There wasn’t any more dry fuel to be had. After boiling and drinking the last of the water from her canteen, she lay down to rest.

  She didn’t sleep for long. Her full bladder screamed for relief, and her canteen was empty. Rogue debated pulling on her clean pants and boots. They’d dried throughout the night, but the raging storm dissuaded her. Dressed in her undies and shirt, she crawled through the opening on her hands and knees.

  Immediately, the rain assaulted her, lashing her face with stinging drops of icy water. She pulled herself up by holding onto a tree root and hobbled a few yards away to relieve herself. After fetching her canteen, she refilled it with water from the stream before hurrying back.

  The river had grown overnight. This brought forth images of floods, and she worried about her safety. There wasn’t much she could do about it, however. She was in no shape to look for a new hidey-hole.


  Crawling back into her bedroll, Rogue shook and shivered until she fell asleep once more. Those early hours set the routine for the day. She’d wake up, stoke the fire, drink hot water, and tend to her leg.

  But, as the hours passed, these simple tasks became more and more difficult to perform. Each time she woke up, it took longer to drag herself out of bed. Her leg swelled up until the stitches threatened to burst free from the skin. It continued to leak puss, and the pain grew unbearable. Not even the painkillers helped, and soon, a fever set in.

  Twice, she ate an apple, though she wasn’t all that hungry. That was a bad sign. Usually, her stomach would be screaming for sustenance after several days of lean fare.

  Nightfall found Rogue huddled next to the dying flames of her fire. She’d used the last of the firewood, and the cold was leaching into her space. With the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she nodded off.

  Minutes later, she was yanked from slumber by the touch of icy water against her leg. Rogue gasped with horror when she found the cave being flooded. Her worst nightmare had come true. Crap, I have to get out of here!

  Adrenalin gave her a burst of energy, and she gathered her things and stuffed them into the backpack. She pulled on her clothes and secured the machete at her waist. There was no time to waste. The water was rising by the second. It washed over the remains of the fire and snuffed out the coals with a hiss. Darkness enfolded the space.

  Panicked, Rogue crawled out into the storm. She could hardly see her hand in front of her face and had to navigate by memory. Rain lashed the earth, and the wind howled around every corner. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, rumbling with discontent.

  Despite the agony in her leg, she crawled up the embankment. The river tugged at her legs, threatening to drag her into its cold embrace. Once she reached the top of the muddy rise, she clung to a tree. It was her lifeline, the one constant in the chaos that surrounded her.

  A flash of lightning lit the area in electric blue, and she gaped at the scene with sheer horror. The river churned past at twice its average speed. It had broken through its banks, swollen with rain and debris. A bawling creature was swept by, its cries of fear soon swallowed by the murky depths.

  Rogue held onto the tree, uncertain of her next move. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. In her weakened state, she was easy prey. Tears ran down her face, mingling with the rain. It soaked through her clothes within seconds, and she shivered as the warmth fled her limbs. I have to get out of the rain.

  Rogue forced herself to walk. She stuck close to the river, not daring to brave the forest with its myriad of hidden dangers. Each step was a battle, each passing yard a minor victory. Her muscles grew numb, and her brain functioned on auto-pilot.

  As the hours passed, her fever grew worse. One minute, it felt as if she was freezing to death. Her teeth chattered until her jaw ached, and shivers wracked her spine. The next moment, heat flushed her veins until she swore she would burst into flame.

  It wasn’t long before she fell. Her legs gave in, and she collapsed face-first into the mud. Rogue coughed as she crawled back to her feet. Her vision wavered, and the world spun around her head.

  She trudged forward, her chin hanging on her chest. The backpack dug into her shoulders and weighed her down. When she fell again, she couldn’t find the strength to get up. The rain pounded her into the earth, sapping the will to live from her very bones.

  Rogue blinked through mud-covered lashes. Her entire existence shrank to a pinpoint. It was filled with thunder and lightning, cold and darkness. Nothing else existed, and she wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to give up. But she still had some fight left in her, despite everything. Come on, Rogue. Get up.

  With a supreme effort, she crawled to her feet. The ground beneath her feet rose and fell with the ever-changing terrain. She hobbled onward, favoring her bad leg. She no longer felt the cold or the rain. She was beyond that.

  Her eyes misted over, and a white figure floated across her path. Rogue stopped and eyed the ghostly image of a little girl with curiosity. She no longer had the capacity to feel surprised. Instead, she called out in a wavering voice. “Hello? Who are you?”

  The figure didn’t answer, but the child’s features looked familiar. Rogue stepped closer, reaching out with one hand. “Hello?”

  The earth wobbled beneath her feet, and she tumbled sideways to the ground. Rogue heaved for breath, her fingers digging in the mud for purchase. She slithered forward a couple of steps, her eyes fixed on the strange apparition that hovered above her. “Lillian? Is that you? Or me?”

  The thought of being haunted by herself struck her as funny, and she began to giggle like a schoolgirl. Soon, Rogue was rolling in the mud screaming with laughter. “This is just too weird!”

  But the hilarity of the situation faded, and despair set in. She realized she was hallucinating, never a good thing. “I’m dying, aren’t I, Lillian? That’s why you’re here. You’re here to watch me die. Well, I’ve got news for you. I’m not dying today.”

  A spark of anger prompted her to her feet, and she forced herself to carry on. Each time she fell, she got back up. But each time, it got a little harder and took a little longer.

  The wraith-like figure of Lillian disappeared, and another took its place. It was a woman, and Rogue nearly choked when she recognized the long-forgotten features. “Mother? Is that you? It can’t be. You’re gone.”

  Her mother smiled and reached out with both arms. Golden light radiated from her form, and she looked like an angel from heaven.

  Joy filled Rogue’s heart, and all coherent thought fled her brain. It couldn’t be real, she knew that. And yet…why not? Why couldn’t her mother be here? Anything was possible, wasn’t it?

  Rogue almost ran the distance between them, only to fall into a bottomless pit of nothingness. She hit the ground hard, and her wounded leg knocked on a rock. Agony burst through her nerve-endings, and she screamed aloud. The pain drove away all visions of her mother, and she was left alone. Bereft.

  This time, she didn’t get up.

  She gave in to the blackness that encroached on her mind.

  It sucked her into a whirling vortex of forgotten hurt, grief, and anger. At that moment, she realized how much she resented her mother for not saving her as a child. For leaving her at the mercy of the Shift.

  As Rogue’s consciousness faded into oblivion, she whispered. “Where were you when I needed you the most, Mom? Why didn’t you save me? Why?”

  Chapter 21

  Rogue lay prone in the mud while the storm raged around her. The phantom figures of her mother and herself as a child were gone. The rain pooled around her body and soaked into her clothes and boots.

  Suddenly, the oppressive weight of the backpack was lifted from her body. She moaned in protest but didn’t have the strength to resist. Strong hands gripped her by the shoulders and hauled her to her feet. They draped her one arm over a broad shoulder while the other hand held her tightly by the waist.

  An unfamiliar voice whispered in her ear—a male voice. “Come on, you can do this. Walk. I’ll help you.”

  Rogue obeyed, too tired to question the command. She dragged her legs through the mud, her head hanging on her chest. She didn’t know what was going on or who was helping her. Nor did she care.

  Step by step, the stranger coaxed her down a steep incline. When she slipped, he held her tight. When she stumbled, he kept her steady. “Just a little bit further. We’re almost there.”

  They reached a steep embankment bordering the river, and Rogue froze. “Not the water.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s safe,” the stranger said, steering her toward a bulky shape that loomed above their heads in the darkness.

  Rogue blinked at it through the lashing rain. “What is it?”

  “It’s my home. An old boat that I fixed up years ago,” the voice answered. “It washed up on shore, and it’s safe. I promise.”

  “Are you sure? The dinos…” she asked in
a quavering voice.

  “They won’t get you in there. I made sure of that,” he said.

  Rogue nodded, relieved. Anything would do at that moment. Anything that got her out of the cold and wet. She could no longer feel her extremities, and her mind was foggy and unfocused. Hypothermia. She recognized the symptoms and knew she was in danger unless she warmed up soon.

  They walked up a wooden gangway and onto the boat’s deck. It didn’t move beneath her feet, its bottom moored on land. Lightning flashed across the sky, and she was able to get a better look at the area.

  A thick stand of reeds surrounded the boat and held it in place. The river churned past while the forest lay behind them, a brooding presence. The deck was clear, while a metal door led down into the bowls of the boat via a staircase.

  It was pitch black inside, but the stranger removed a flashlight from a bracket in the wall. The yellow beam cut through the darkness and allowed her to see. He prompted her down the steps one by one before returning to close the door behind them. It slammed shut, and he slid two thick iron bars across its width. They were held in place by more brackets.

  Rogue watched from her spot at the bottom of the stairs, clinging to the railing with both hands. Her head swam, and she could barely focus, but it relieved her to see the entrance secured.

  The stranger forged past her, and she strained to see his face, but his features were shrouded in gloom. He pointed the flashlight at another door and said, “It’s through there.”

  “What is?” Her voice sounded hoarse to her ears, and her mouth was dry.

  “My home. It’s warm and safe. You can rest there,” he replied.

  “Okay.” Rogue hobbled toward the opening.

  When she swayed, he steadied her with one hand on her elbow. “Careful. Watch your step.”

  Once she stepped through the opening, she paused to take it all in. The room was bigger than she’d expected. Warmer too. In the far corner burned an old-fashioned wood stove. An outlet to the deck above their heads let out the smoke. There were no windows, but the fire lit up the space with a golden glow.