The Extinction Series | Book 2 | Primordial Earth

by Higgins, Baileigh

“He’s across the hall, but he hasn’t moved since the guards dumped him in there,” Bear said. “He’s either unconscious or dead.”

  Moran flung herself at the bars of her cell and stared at the one opposite. She could just make out the shape of a body lying prone on the floor. “Bruce? Bruce, wake up. Speak to me.”

  Utter silence was the only answer she got, and tears pricked her eyelids. “Oh, Bruce. I’m so sorry.”

  “He’s hurt bad, isn’t he?” Bear asked.

  “He got hit by a bolt,” Moran answered, her heart aching with unspent grief. “He tried to save me.”

  “Of course, he did. It’s what he’d do,” Bear rumbled. “The man loves you to bits.”

  Moran sighed, leaning against the bars. “I wish I’d realized it before.”

  “If wishes were fishes…” Bear said, trailing off.

  “What about the others? Is it just us?” Moran asked.

  “As far as I know,” Bear said. “I’m pretty sure they’re all dead.”

  “And Patti?” Moran asked, thinking about Patti’s back-up team.

  “I never saw her anywhere. I don’t think they got her.”

  “Thank God for small mercies,” Moran said, but her heart was heavy when she thought about the dead. Nineteen rebels. All gone. If only I’d listened to my gut. I knew something was wrong. Patti tried to warn me. Stupid, stupid!

  “So, what now?” Bear asked.

  “I don’t know,” Moran whispered.

  “Look, I know this is bad, but you’re still my leader. Say the word, and I’ll do it,” Bear said.

  “You still feel like that after everything?” Moran asked.

  “Bad stuff happens. That’s the way of it. Doesn’t mean we get to give up.”

  Moran blinked back her tears. Bear was right. Now was not the time for crying. Now was the time for doing. “Is there any way out of here?”

  “If there is, I haven’t found it yet,” Bear said.

  “Are you okay? Moran asked. “Did you get injured?”

  “Nothing serious. I’m still fighting fit,” Bear said.

  “Good. I have a feeling we’re going to need everything we’ve got to make it out of here,” Moran said.

  “Have you got a plan?” Bear asked.

  “Not yet, but you’ll be the first to know when I do,” Moran said, picking up a steel jug from her cell floor. It contained a little water. After a cautious sniff, she downed the contents. The water fortified her, and the pain in her head receded a little.

  Yelling at the top of her lungs, she bashed the jug against the bars. It created an awful racket, precisely what she needed.

  “What are you doing?” Bear asked.

  “Getting some help for Bruce,” she replied before resuming her efforts.

  Seconds later, a disgruntled guard stormed into the cells. “Stop that right now, or I swear—”

  “Or what? You’ll kill us? My friend’s already dying. He needs medical care,” Moran said.

  The guard snorted, staring at Bear’s hulking shape. “Doesn’t look like he’s dying to me. It took five of us to get him in there.”

  “Not him, you idiot. That one,” Moran said, pointing at Bruce.

  “So what if he dies?” the guard asked with a shrug. “Nobody cares about one stinking rebel.”

  “Are you sure about that? General Sikes wants to question him, personally,” Moran said. “And he’ll be pretty pissed if he can’t.”

  The guard’s eyes narrowed. “General Sikes want to talk to him? What for? He’s a nobody. You’re the leader, they say.”

  “And he was my right-hand man. He knows everything I do, if not more,” Moran said.

  “Nobody said anything about this to me,” the guard protested.

  “Maybe not, but if you let him die, I’m pretty sure you’ll be blamed for it. We wouldn’t want that, right?” Moran said in her most persuasive tone of voice.

  “What do you want from me, lady?” the guard protested. “I’m no doctor, and I sure as shit didn’t sign up for any of this.”

  “Well, it’s your responsibility now, whether you like it or not,” Moran said. “I know you’re not a doctor, so find someone who is. Pronto.”

  The guard backed away, muttering beneath his breath. “I’ll see what I can do, but I make no promises.”

  “Please try,” Moran pleaded, watching the man leave. Her gaze flashed to Bruce’s unmoving form. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, she could see the bolt sticking out of his back. Was he even still alive? “Bruce? Can you hear me? Talk to me, please.”

  Silence.

  A sob exploded from her lips, one she quickly swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You tried your best,” Bear said.

  “Did I?” Moran said, sliding to the floor until she sat on the cold floor.

  “You did, and that’s all anyone can do,” Bear said, before lapsing into silence.

  With her head resting on her knees, Moran prepared to wait. There was nothing else she could do. Nothing but pray that the guard came through in time to save Bruce.

  ***

  A slow hour passed before Moran heard the sound of footsteps. She jumped to her feet, hope filling her heart. It dropped to the floor when two guards entered, dragging a man between them.

  She stared at the man. He looked familiar, but it was hard to tell. His features were swollen and bruised, his nose broken and his lips smashed to a pulp. Somebody had worked him over with brutal efficiency.

  It was Bear who broke the silence. “Steven? Steven Yingling?”

  Moran gasped. Was that Steven? It couldn’t be. “What did you do to him?”

  The guards ignored her, dumping Steven into the cell next to Bruce before departing as quickly as they came.

  “Steven?” Moran called, banging on the bars. “Steven, are you okay?”

  A loud groan sounded. “I…I’m okay. I think.”

  “You don’t look okay, buddy,” Bear said. “You look like roadkill.”

  A faint laugh sounded. “I feel like it.”

  “Can you sit?” Moran asked.

  “I could try,” Steven mumbled through broken lips. Inch by torturous inch, he levered himself upright until he sat with his back against the bars.

  “What happened?” Moran asked.

  He sighed, head hanging low on his chest. “I’m sorry, Moran. I didn’t mean to tell them.”

  “Tell them what?” Moran asked, her stomach doing a slow roll.

  “Everything.” He remained silent for a moment before continuing. “They got me when I reported for duty. Dragged me to a room. Questioned me.”

  “They tortured you?” Moran said.

  “Sikes did. He worked me over good. I…I told him about the raid. I’m sorry,” Steven said with an audible hitch in his voice.

  Moran closed her eyes and breathed through her nose. It all made sense now. The ambush, everything. “Did you tell them about Patti?”

  He shook his head. “No, just you.”

  “And the other rebels?”

  “Sikes didn’t ask. He was more concerned with the raid. He wanted you most of all.”

  “Of course, he does. Now that he has me, he’s got the whole Rebel Faction,” Moran said.

  Steven dropped his head into his hands. “I shouldn’t have talked. I tried not to, but when Sikes…when he…”

  “It’s alright, Steven. I don’t blame you,” Moran said, wincing at the pain in Steven’s voice. “How did they find out about you being a mole?”

  “I don’t know, but I can guess who told them,” Steven said.

  “Kat,” Moran said with gritted teeth. “It has to be her.”

  “Who else?”

  “That bitch,” Bear said. “If I catch her, I’ll strangle her with my bare hands.”

  “Me first,” Moran said as a flash of rage ignited in her belly. I should never have trusted her. I knew there was something wrong about her, and I ignored it.

  “Wh
at happened to Bruce?” Steven asked.

  “He got shot with a crossbow,” Moran said, reminded of their predicament.

  “Is he dead?”

  “I hope not, Steven. I really hope not.”

  Steven grunted. “Me too.”

  Moran leaned against the bars as anger gave way to despair. It had all gone to hell in less than a day. Bruce and Steven were severely injured, Bear was in chains, and all of them were at the mercy of Sikes. The one man in Prime City who had none.

  At least, there was something thing to be thankful for. Patti was safe. Even if Kat had told Sikes about the other woman, she’d already moved to a new location. One Kat didn’t know about. I just need to keep my mouth shut, that’s all.

  But one look at Steven’s mangled face said it all. Keeping her mouth shut was not going to be easy. We have to escape. It’s our only hope. But how?

  ***

  Another slow hour passed during which Moran paced her cell like a crazed tiger. She’d already examined every inch of the cells, and she had yet to find a weakness. The bars were made of solid iron, each one fixed into stone and concrete. The cells were bare, as well, with nothing to use as a weapon.

  During that time, neither Steven nor Bear spoke, each lost in their own thoughts. Bruce never stirred, and she feared the worst.

  Finally, she dropped to the floor, too tired to carry on. Then she heard footsteps, more than one pair. Can it be?

  Moran looked up from her seated position on the floor, hope kindling in her breast. It burst into flame when she spotted the first guard entering with a stranger in tow: An old woman carrying a satchel and a covered basket.

  Moran scrambled to her feet. “You came back!”

  The guard grunted. “I did, and you owe me one. This is Gladys, and she’ll tend to your friend.”

  Moran blinked back sudden tears. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “Don’t mention it,” the guard replied in gruff tones. “I mean it, too. Don’t mention this to anyone. I don’t want to get into trouble.”

  “I promise,” Moran said. At that point, she was willing to sell her soul to save Bruce’s life.

  The guard unlocked Bruce’s cell, and Gladys shuffled inside. After a brief examination, she shook her head. “He’s alive, but barely.”

  “Can you help him?” Moran asked, her heart in her throat.

  “Of course, I can, but I need absolute quiet. No questions, no talking. Got it?” Gladys said, wagging a crooked finger.

  “Got it.”

  Moran watched with bated breath as Gladys set to work. The old woman stripped off Bruce’s shirt and washed his torso with a foul-smelling liquid that set their eyes to watering. Then she used a scalpel to cut the bolt free from his flesh. Bruce never stirred. “He’s lucky. It went into the bone of the shoulder, but he’s lost a lot of blood.”

  Moran remained silent as Gladys stitched up the wound and plastered a thick concoction over the area. After wrapping him up with a bandage, she removed a bottle from her basket. “When he wakes up, tell him to drink this. A few sips every hour. It will help with the pain and infection.”

  “I’ll tell him,” Moran said.

  “He’ll need water too. Lots of it,” Gladys said, tossing the empty jug in the cell to the guard. “See that he gets it.”

  The guard grumbled something beneath his breath but took the jug. “Fine.”

  Gladys got to her feet, her knees shaky. “That’s the best I can do. The rest is up to him. Don’t try to wake him. Sleep is the best healer.”

  “What about him?” Moran asked, pointing to Steven.

  “Now you’re pushing it,” the guard said.

  “Please, just give him something,” Moran pleaded.

  Gladys eyed the battered Steven through the bars of his cell. “Come here, boy.”

  Steven shuffled over, his movements stiff. She poked and prodded his body until he groaned. “No ribs are broken, your lungs are fine. You’ll live.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” Steven said.

  Gladys raised both hands to his face. “Hold still.”

  With a deft movement, she gripped his nose and twisted the broken cartilage into place. The crunch of setting bone was loud, as was Steven’s surprised yelp. “Ow!”

  “Don’t be such a baby,” Gladys said, rummaging in her bag. She handed over a cloth, another bottle of mystery fluid, and a small pot of ointment. “Put the ointment on your wounds, and drink that. A few sips every hour. That should do the trick.”

  Steven accepted the proffered gifts with tears running down his face. He shuffled back to his corner and took a few swigs from the bottle. “Ugh, this stuff is vile.”

  “Maybe, but it works,” Gladys said with an evil chuckle.

  As she exited Bruce’s cell, she turned to the guard. “Make sure they all get some water. They’re human beings, after all. Not animals.”

  “Grandma, please. They’re prisoners,” the guard protested.

  “Don’t talk back to me, boy,” Gladys said with a sharp look.

  The guard sighed. “Yes, Grandma.”

  “And you’d better show up for dinner tonight. Once a week, from now on. You’ve neglected me long enough,” Gladys admonished.

  “Now see what you’ve done,” the guard said, shooting Moran an accusing look.

  “Don’t blame her, boy. You’re the one who forgot about your own flesh and blood,” Gladys said, dragging him toward the door.

  “Yes, Grandma.”

  The door to the cells slammed shut behind them, leaving a wide-eyed Moran behind. She blinked a couple of times before saying, “What the hell was that?”

  Steven shook his head. “I don’t know, but this stuff is making me feel pretty awesome.” He waved the bottle Gladys had given him in the air. “Whatever it is, it’s magic, and Gladys is a witch.”

  Bear began to laugh. It started out as a chuckle but soon morphed into a full-blown belly laugh. His body shook, and the bars rattled until Moran found herself joining in. She couldn’t help it. It was addictive.

  “Did you see his face?” Bear roared, tears running down his cheeks. “Grandma. Hahaha!”

  “I know,” Moran said, doubled over.

  “I wonder if she spanks him when he’s naughty,” Steven mused, still waving the magic bottle around.

  That sent Moran and Bear into fresh paroxysms, both of them clinging to the bars for dear life. As she gasped for breath, Moran mused that it felt good to laugh again. It reminded her of something her father used to say: Even when all is darkest, you can still find a little light.

  Chapter 15 - Bones

  Bones crouched inside the treeline, his lanky form hidden in shadow. Behind him lay the primordial forest with its myriad of dangers. Above him shone a hunter’s moon, full and fat. Before him lay the Zoo and its occupants, unaware that he was watching. Watching, waiting, and listening.

  Even Rogue never suspected he was stalking her. He was there when the Dryptosaurus attacked and again during the stampede. It had taken everything he had not to interfere, not to reveal himself. Luckily, she’d suffered no real harm. But he’d always known she was a fighter. It was one of the things that attracted him to her.

  The occasional rustle of leaves let him know he wasn’t alone, but he wasn’t worried. The T-rex piss he’d rubbed on his clothes kept most dinosaurs at bay. Very few creatures wanted to tangle with a T-Rex, a loophole Bones was quick to exploit. It hadn’t been easy to get hold of the stuff, but he was glad he’d thought of it. It was the only way he could spy on Rogue without getting eaten.

  By now, he knew the Zoo like the back of his hand. Every day, he studied its layout, its nooks and crannies, its strengths and weaknesses. He listened to the guards’ talk while they were on break, and he knew both their number and rotation. He’d found the places where he could scale the walls, and he’d even been inside the settlement a few times.

  He was confident he had enough information to take back to Senator Douglas. Enough t
o earn him the kind of life he’d always dreamed of. A cushy job with plenty of perks and Rogue at his side. But there lay the hitch. She wasn’t by his side. Not yet. A minor oversight he planned to remedy that night. Even if I have to snatch you from your bed, my love.

  With a determined glint in his eyes, Bones headed toward his target: A corner of the Zoo rarely frequented by the guards. Usually, only one man patrolled that stretch, an easy mark.

  Bones reached the wall and scaled it with ease. He perched on the edge like a vulture waiting for its prey. When the guard drew level, he dropped down with a silent rush. His knife flashed across his victim’s throat, and the skin split apart like a ripe plum. Blood gushed from the wound and splashed onto the ground, a crimson waterfall.

  After cleaning his knife, Bones dragged the body into a hidden corner and continued on his way. He knew exactly where to go and reached Olivia’s home within a couple of minutes. There, he hovered around the edges, just as he’d done many a night before—a silent predator.

  He caught a glimpse of Rogue through the kitchen window, and his heart skipped a beat. She was as beautiful as ever. An irresistible siren that sang to his soul and drew him to her until he’d gladly drown in her arms.

  Tonight, however, she looked tired. Purple shadows lined her eyes, and her mouth was drawn. When she moved, it was with a pronounced limp. Probably because of her run-in with the Stegoceras.

  Bones frowned. These people weren’t looking after her. They didn’t appreciate her like he did, not even her mother. It reinforced his belief that she was better off with him. He’d treat her like a queen. They don’t deserve you, my love.

  Loud voices reached his ears. Rogue and Olivia were going at it, each standing at opposite ends of the room. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but it didn’t matter. They were in the middle of a huge argument. The kind that might work in his favor.

  Bones held his breath as the fight reached its peak. Then, just as he’d hoped, Rogue stormed out of the house. She slammed the door shut with a bang and marched into the night. Olivia stayed behind, tears streaming down her face.

  This was the moment he’d been waiting for all along—the chance to catch Rogue alone and unawares. On silent feet, he followed her into the darkness. He moved fast, for there was no time to waste. Soon, the dead guard would be discovered, and the alarm raised. They had to be long gone by then. Tonight is the night, my sweet.