Against one wall rested a bed. It was made with military precision, the sheets smooth and clean-looking. A plump pillow and an extra blanket indicated a degree of comfort she wasn’t used to.
An open closet stood against another wall next to a small table and two chairs. Inside hung an array of clothing, and two pairs of extra shoes lay on the bottom. There were more garments than she’d owned in her entire life, another thing she wasn’t used to.
On top of the table stood a tray with a lamp, a jug of water, cups, teaspoons, and glasses. A mirror on the wall and a couple of watercolor sketches added a homey feel to the room.
The rest of the space was equally as clean and luxurious. A couch stood angled toward the stove, the perfect spot to soak up the heat. A crumpled blanket and pillow lay on the seat, next to an open book.
Rogue’s eyes widened. “A book? You have a book?”
“I have many,” the stranger said, stepping into the light.
He was younger than she’d expected. Around thirty, maybe. Tall, tanned, and broad-shouldered. His dark hair was cropped close to his scalp, and his gaze was watchful. A scar ran down his face from forehead to chin, rough and jagged. He looks like he can take care of himself.
“Many books? I haven’t seen one in years,” Rogue whispered. She rubbed her hands across her arms, trying to warm up. Before she knew what she was doing, she’d gravitated toward the fire. Her gaze fell to the floor, and she grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’m puddling all over your floor.”
“That’s okay, I’ll clean it up later. Are you hurt?” he asked. With a thud, he dropped her backpack to the ground and booted it into a corner.
Rogue shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“Then what were you doing taking a dirt nap outside in this weather?” the stranger said. “You’re lucky I was out fetching water, and I heard your calls for help.”
“Calls?” Rogue said with a frown. “I don’t remember calling out to anyone.”
“Well, you did, and here you are,” he said.
“Thanks for saving me. I’d have died out there.”
The stranger waved a negligent hand. “Forget about it. Just stay there by the stove while I fetch you something dry to wear.”
He disappeared from the room for a few minutes while Rogue huddled closer to the fire. Gradually, the cold receded from her limbs, replaced by a delicious warmth. The constant shivering stopped, and her mind cleared.
The stranger returned moments later and handed her a rough towel. She took it and dried off her face and hair. “Thanks.”
“Here are some things that I think might fit you. The rest of your stuff will have to dry overnight,” he said.
“Sounds great,” Rogue said, squeezing the water from her long hair.
“Where are you from?” the stranger asked.
“Prime. I’m from Prime City,” Rogue answered.
“I thought so. You’re too green to be from anywhere else. What’s your name?” he continued, throwing more wood on the fire. The flames blazed upward with a crackle before settling down once more.
“Rogue. What’s yours?” she asked.
“Seth,” he said with a morose look.
“Where are you from, Seth?” she asked, curious to know more about her savior. He couldn’t be from Prime. Could he?
Before Seth could answer, the room spun around her, and she fell to one knee. The movement jarred her wounded leg, and she cried out in pain.
Seth jumped forward. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Rogue nodded, her entire body shaking as the fever returned full force. “Yes, I got bitten a few days ago.”
Seth frowned. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
“I didn’t want to be a bother,” she replied.
“Well, you won’t be if you die on me,” he muttered, helping her onto the couch.
“What bit you?”
“A Clidastes. It looked like one, at least.”
“It could be. There are a few of them that range upriver from the coast. I’m surprised you survived the attack.”
“So am I,” Rogue said through gritted teeth as pain shot up her leg.
“Maybe you’re not as weak as you look,” Seth with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m not weak. Just cold, and hungry, and alone.”
Seth sighed. “Can you take these clothes off on your own while I fetch my medical kit? Or do you need help?”
Rogue waved him away. “I’ll manage.”
“Call me if you need me.”
Seth left the room, and she peeled off her wet things. After drying herself with the towel, she sorted through the pile of clothes. Among them was a long-sleeved shirt in deep red and a pair of black tights. To her surprise, they were a good fit, and she pulled them on with haste. The woolen socks and canvas jacket she set aside for later.
“Are you decent?” Seth called.
“Yeah, come in,” she said, leaning back in the chair as exhaustion dragged at her limbs.
Her voice faded away as her body melted into the cushions. It felt so soft. So warm. Better than anything she’d ever experienced before. Sleep dragged at her eyelids, and she wished she could give in to its call. But her leg was killing her. Literally.
“It’s infected,” she muttered. “Something’s wrong, and it’s making me sick.”
He hurried over and dropped to his knees on the floor. “Which leg?”
“The left one,” Rogue replied.
“Try to relax while I take a look.”
“I’ll try.”
With deft fingers, Seth rolled the tights up to her knee and unwound the bandage. Once the leg was revealed in all its ugly glory, he whistled. “This looks bad. I’ll have to remove the stitches and drain the wound.”
“Have at it,” Rogue said with a wave of her hand.
“It’s going to hurt, and I’ve got nothing to give you for the pain,” he warned.
“Just get it over and done with,” she said.
He bobbed his head and snipped through the first stitch with a pair of scissors. “Here goes.”
Rogue squeezed her eyes shut and dug her fingers into the couch while he worked. One by one, her crude stitches were removed. Once they were out, Seth pressed on the wound with both hands, working the inflamed flesh.
Raw agony burst through her nerve-endings, and for a second, she thought she’d pass out. No such luck. Instead, it grew worse until she wanted to scream out loud. Rolling her head back, she clenched on her teeth. “Hurry up, please!”
“I’m sorry. I’m doing the best I can,” he said in soothing tones. “Just hold on.”
Like a volcano, the infection popped, and warm puss exploded from the wound. The stench was awful, and Rogue gagged. “Oh, man, that stinks.”
“Yeah, this is pretty nasty,” Seth said as he wiped away the mess.
“Now, this is going to really hurt,” he said, holding up a pair of tweezers.
“What’s that for?”
“There’s something in there causing the infection, and I’ll have to get it out,” he said, digging into the cut.
“Holy crap!” Rogue yelled as the pain increased tenfold. Tears ran down the sides of her face as he poked and prodded.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, Seth yelled, “Got it!”
Rogue slumped backward, her mouth working as she struggled to find the words. “What was it?”
“A tooth,” Seth said, dropping the ivory fang into a bowl with a clink.
“Good,” Rogue said, heaving for breath. “I’ll keep it as a souvenir, the dead son-of-a-bitch.”
“You killed it?” Seth asked.
Rogue nodded. “I stuck my machete right through its brain.”
“Then you’re stronger than you look too,” Seth said as he cleaned and stitched the wound again.
“Of course, I am. I grew up on the streets of Prime,” Rogue said, not looking her leg while he worked. “I had to be tough.”
“What did you
do?” Seth asked, wrapping a clean bandage around the wound. “To be put over the wall, I mean.”
“I stole an egg.”
“An egg?” Seth repeated with an air of disbelief.
“Yup. The ensuing ruckus drew the attention of a Quetzalcoatl, and the damned thing attacked the market square. Killed eight people.”
“Not bad,” Seth said, straightening up. Ignoring her protests, he picked her up and carried her to the bed.
Rogue closed her eyes and allowed her weary muscles to melt into the mattress. “This is nice.”
“Uh huh,” Seth said, handing her a cup. “Drink this.”
She wrinkled her nose when a sharp herbal scent hit her nostrils. The stuff tasted like crap, and she almost spat it out. “What is that?”
“Just drink it. It’ll help with the fever,” he said, forcing her to down the noxious liquid.
“Yuck,” Rogue muttered, but she soon forgot about everything as sleep claimed her for its own. Nestling deeper into the blankets, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 22
Three days later, Rogue was finally able to leave the bed and walk about unaided. Three hellish days spent tossing and turning as the fever burned through her veins, and the infection cleared up.
Seth was the perfect host. He tended to her every need, from nursing her wound to feeding and cleaning her without complaint.
During that time, she quickly learned that he wasn’t much of a talker. Not like her, anyway. Nor did he reveal much about himself. But she picked up a few things, anyway. Enough to draw her own conclusions.
Everything he had, he’d either built with his own hands or scavenged from the city. He had a couple of solar-powered gadgets set up on the boat deck and the basic comforts of home inside. A line of snares and a crossbow provided him with meat while the river gave him water. He also had fishing gear and spent much of his time on deck catching fish. Over time, he’d learned what plants could be eaten safely, and had a store of dried meat, fish, and vegetation tucked away for the winter.
Boxes of clothes and toiletries of all kinds sat in the hold, which explained her outfit. He also had a collection of books that she found astonishing. Life on the outside could be good if one knew where to look and what to do.
On the morning of the fourth day, they sat around the table, eating breakfast. The food wasn’t much. Just a bowl of watery soup with bits of alien vegetation and chunks of meat floating around in it. It didn’t matter. To her starved senses, it tasted like heaven.
She prodded at a piece of meat with her spoon. “Dinosaur?”
Seth nodded. “Yup. I go out hunting every now and then.”
“What do you hunt?”
“Small stuff. Bambiraptors and the like. Sometimes, I’m lucky, and my snares deliver my meat for me,” Seth said.
Rogue shuddered, remembering her brush with them as a kid. “Bambiraptors. I hate the stupid things.”
“Yeah, but they make for good eating,” Seth said. “And they’re one of the few things small enough to hunt. It’s still dangerous, though.”
“Aren’t you afraid to go out there?” Rogue asked. “All on your own like that?”
Seth shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
“It’s you, isn’t it?” Rogue mused.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re the one that chose to go over the wall a few years ago,” Rogue said. “You assaulted one of the Watch if I remember correctly.”
Seth’s expression tightened. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But it is you, right? Besides me, no one else ever went over the wall. They all chose death, instead,” Rogue persisted.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“How have you survived out here?” Rogue asked. “I’ve only been out for a few days, and if it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead already.”
“I learned fast, and I found this place not long after I went over the wall,” Seth explained. “I fixed it up and made it safe. End of story.”
Rogue eyed him with narrowed eyes. “That’s not all there is to it. It can’t be.”
Seth pushed his chair back with a loud scrape of the feet. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to know if there are other survivors out there,” Rogue said.
“Why?”
“Because, look at me!” Rogue cried. “Once I leave this place, I won’t last a day.”
“You don’t have to leave,” Seth said with a grunt.
“Of course, I do. I can’t stay here for the rest of my life.”
“Why not? I learned to live out here on my own. So can you,” Seth said.
“Just the two of us, forever and ever, huh?” Rogue said with a pointed look. “What happens if you die or fall ill?”
“I won’t die,” Seth said with an exasperated air.
“But what if you do? What then? I need other people, Seth,” Rogue said.
“They’re not friendly, okay? They’ll view you as an outsider. An elitist,” Seth said, jumping up from his chair.
“So there are other survivors,” Rogue said with a cry of triumph.
“It doesn’t matter. They don’t trust us. They hate Primes,” Seth said, pacing up and down the room.
“Primes?”
“That’s what they call us, and they hate us for shutting them out all those years ago,” Seth said.
“But that wasn’t us,” Rogue protested. “That was Douglas.”
“They don’t care. All they care about is that we spent our lives inside Prime City while they had to rot out here.” Seth shook his head. “I ran into them once, and they nearly killed me.”
“Why didn’t they?”
“I convinced them that I’d stay far away from their territory, and I’ve kept that promise. As long as I leave them alone, they leave me alone.”
“I see.” Rogue poked at her bowl of soup. “What if I told you there’s a rebellion growing within Prime City?”
“A rebellion?” Seth asked with a frown.
“Yup. I was part of it before I got kicked out,” Rogue said. “When I left, the leader asked me to look for other survivors.”
“Why?” Seth asked, sitting down once more.
“To help us overthrow Douglas and free the city.”
“Free the city?” Seth said with a laugh. “Why would they want that?”
“You know why. It’s hell in there unless you’re one of Douglas’ cronies,” Rogue said. “And it’s getting worse by the day. People are starving, kids are dying. It was a system that was never meant to last.”
“So, what then? We just march up to the survivors’ gates and plead for their help?” Seth said. “They’ll kill us on the spot.”
“Would they? I mean, think about it. We’re offering them the chance to overthrow Douglas. The man they hate above all else,” Rogue said. “More than that, what about the supplies they’d get? Prime City might be failing, but it’s still a prize. A big, fat, juicy plum waiting to be plucked.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Rogue. What if they decide to kill all the Primes out of pure revenge?” Seth countered.
“Would they? There are women, children…babies. All of them innocent. Are these survivors really that murderous?” Rogue asked.
Seth stared at his plate for a few moments. “No, they’re not. They’re just angry.”
“Then we can reason with them and strike a deal,” Rogue said, leaning forward. “It’s worth a try, right?”
“Is it?”
“Yes, it is. Picture it—two cities, free from the tyranny of Douglas and Sikes and living in harmony. We could trade and rebuild. That’s worth fighting for.”
“You paint a pretty picture,” Seth admitted.
“We could build a new world for us all, Seth. A future. A chance to really live instead of simply existing.”
“It’s a dream, Rogue. A nice one, but just a dream.”
“No, it’s not. It doesn’t have to be. Not if we all work
together,” Rogue said.
Seth leaned back in his chair and stared at her for several seconds before nodding. “Fine. I’ll take you to them. Now that you can walk, we can make the journey in a day.”
Rogue sagged with relief. “Thank you, Seth.”
“I just hope you’re right, and they listen before sticking you with a spear,” Seth said.
“All I need is the chance to talk to them. They’ll listen to me. I’m sure of it,” Rogue said.
“We leave the day after tomorrow at dawn. In the meantime, you should exercise that leg. It’s a long walk, and I do not want to get caught outside at night in the forest,” Seth said with a stern look.
“I’ll be ready,” Rogue replied with a confident smirk.
Seth grunted. “I’m regretting this already.”
Rogue turned her attention back to her soup, praying she was right about everything. Because if I’m not, we’re both dead.
Chapter 23 - Bones
Bones moved through the trees on silent feet, his attention fixed on the two figures ahead of him. At the same time, he remained alert to danger, one hand hovering above his crossbow and the other over his knife. He moved with the grace of a predator, his lanky body slipping unseen through the shadows.
Rogue’s head bobbed in and out of view, following her companion to a destination unknown. She clung to the stranger’s side, so close they almost touched. Bones swallowed as bile pushed up his throat. A volatile mixture of emotions bubbled within his chest: Resentment, love, jealousy, and devotion. But most of all, rage. Hot, seething anger.
For days, he’d followed her trail. It took painstaking attention to the smallest of details to follow the clues she’d left behind: A delicate footprint in the dust, a strand of long dark hair, the remnants of a torn shirt, an empty can, the rotting corpse of the Clidastes, and the cave where she’d holed up for a couple of days.
Despite the danger and difficulty, he never gave up. He kept looking even when all seemed lost, refusing to believe she was gone. Or worse, dead.
The Extinction Series | Book 1 | Primordial Earth Page 11
