Baileigh Higgins
Primordial Earth - Book 7
The Extinction Series - A Prehistoric, Post-Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi Thriller
Copyright © 2021 by Baileigh Higgins
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Acknowledgments
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2 - Kat
Chapter 3 - Callum
Chapter 4 - Sandi
Chapter 5
Chapter 6 - Seth
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9 - Kat
Chapter 10 - Callum
Chapter 11 - Sandi
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14 - Seth
Chapter 15 - David
Chapter 16 - Kat
Chapter 17 - Sandi
Chapter 18 - Callum
Chapter 19 - Paul
Chapter 20 - Tony
Epilogue
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About the Author
Glossary
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Christian Bentulan for the stunning book cover design. You can check out his portfolio at http://www.coversbychristian.com. He’s an amazing artist.
Plus, a huge thank you to Graham Rintoul for his tireless dedication to my books, his research, and his input. A big shoutout to everyone else for their support and help, and to all the fans and readers out there. I truly appreciate you all!
Dedication
This book is dedicated to a special reader, Mike Peterson. I hope you love this story of survival and prehistoric monsters. May you enjoy many more great books in the future. Happy reading!
Prologue
It was a warm mid-summer day, and the sun beamed down onto the earth with a benevolent gaze. A sense of excitement hung in the air, competing with the rich aromas that emanated from the market stalls. Men laughed and drank beer, women preened in their best clothes, usually reserved for church, and children ran amok, their shrill cries loud enough to burst an eardrum.
Tables laden with rolls of freshly baked bread, shiny red apples, honeyed nuts, and slivers of smoked meat beckoned from the sidelines. Busty ladies carrying pitchers of cider plied a brisk trade while sharp-eyed beggars pleaded for a crust from the darkened alleyways. Colored pennants fluttered in the wind, and a merry band played a jaunty tune from a raised dais in the corner.
It was a festive occasion, and Rogue longed to join in on the fun. Later that night, there would be dancing and singing. Street performers would emerge to dazzle the crowd. But first, she had a job to do. Life on the streets of Prime was hard. While her adopted mother, Moran, provided food, shelter, and clothing, she preferred to look after herself. She possessed a stubborn streak, according to those who knew her, and the cost of independence was high.
Rogue slipped through the masses on silent feet. She was little more than a shadow, flitting through the throng like a ghost. She made her way across the city square, ignoring the folk that crossed her path. Ordinarily, she’d be happy to relieve them of their possessions, but this was no ordinary day. Not by far.
High above her head, a wooden platform hung in the air. A set of pulleys manned by two members of the Watch had raised it to the top of the wall. There it sat, swaying slightly in the stiff breeze.
On top of the platform stood five figures. The first and most notable was Douglas, or Senator Douglas as he liked to be called. His protruding belly and lavish clothing marked him out as one of the rich. But, he was more than that: The original owner of Prime Hotel, and the reason they were all there. The city had survived the apocalypse because of the supplies and security he brought in just before the fall.
Even so, Rogue eyed him with dislike bordering on repugnance. While she might owe him her life, she’d also paid for it a million times over with her blood, sweat, and tears. They all had.
Next to Douglas stood General Sikes, the man in charge of the Watch. If the stories about him were true, he was both cruel and merciless. A tyrant. Two members of the Watch stood on either side of him and Douglas like sentinels, guarding them against harm.
It would be laughable if it weren’t for the palpable strength that emanated from the last person on the platform: The prisoner. Shackled and chained, he posed no threat. Blood ran from a deep cut that marred his face, a gash that ran from top to bottom, bisecting his left eye. Still, he was far from cowed and faced his accusers with courage.
Rogue’s eyes roved across his tall frame, noting the broad shoulders and proud bearing. His dark hair held a glint of auburn and curled around his collar with wild abandon. He’d be handsome, but for one fact. He was doomed.
She didn’t know the exact particulars of his crime, but she knew his fate was sealed. Once you stood on the platform, there was no going back. You had two choices: Death or Exile. All chose death. It was preferable over the horror that awaited them beyond the walls.
Senator Douglas cleared his throat, and the swirling breeze carried his ponderous drone across the square. With a shake of her head, Rogue moved on. She didn’t care what he had to say and honed in on her target: The prosperous residents of Prime Hotel.
They stood off to the side, divorced from the common folk. Several members of the Watch circled around them like guard dogs, and servants catered to their every need. The ladies sat on cushioned benches, cooling themselves with feathered fans. The men placed bets on the outcome of the proceedings, with most in favor of death, and the soldiers kept the unwashed rabble at bay.
Dressed as a servant in a pilfered uniform, Rogue slipped into their midst without a hitch. She checked the cap on her head with one hand while snatching up a jug of lemonade with the other. Keeping her head low, she moved through the ranks of the wealthy and refilled their glasses with a timid smile and many a curtsey.
It was almost too easy.
Her hands moved with practiced ease, snatching a coin from a pocket here and a gold cufflink from a jacket there. A pearl bracelet slipped into her sash, followed by a pair of embroidered silk gloves. The takings were rich enough to keep her afloat for many months, and a sense of achievement buoyed her spirits.
Rogue felt no remorse. Her victims could afford it and lived off the labors of those beneath them. She never took from the poor. Life was hard enough in the slums of Pride without her adding to their misery.
After a thorough circuit of the group, she prepared to make her exit. There was no sense in pushing her luck. Success lay in making a silent getaway. Unseen, unnoticed, and unheard.
Rogue slipped into a nearby alley and quickly tore the cap from her head. Her hair tumbled across her back, thick and wavy. She removed the blue overcoat and apron, bundling them into her backpack. The uniform could always serve another day.
A grin crossed her lips, and she fondled the bounty of treasure within her pockets. She knew just the man to take them off her hands. Charlie, the owner of Bits and Bobs. Discreet and fair, he knew how to get rid of hot merchandise.
But a sudden ripple throughout the crowd caused her to pause, and she tilted her head upward to the platform. She squinted at the figure of the accused and waited for him to choose his destiny: A quick and painless death, or being torn apart by a vicious predator outside.
Outside.
The mere thought was enough to send a shiver through her spine. Even though she’d been just a child, she still remembered the Shift and her subsequent rescue by the kind couple, Mike and Corinne. She also recalled their flight to Prime City and Mike’s gruesome death at the teeth of a T-Rex. It was still imprinted on her mind in vivid detail, a memory that haunted her dreams.
She shook off the horrid thought and focused on the prisoner. She felt sorry for him, despite his status as a criminal. She’d long since learned that guilt was a subjective thing inside the walls of Prime. Often, your only crime was pissing the wrong people off.
“What sentence do you choose?” Douglas asked. “Death or exile?”
He should pick death. It’ll be the quickest, most painless way.
But the accused didn’t choose death. Instead, he spoke in a clear, firm voice and said, “I want my freedom. I want to go over the wall.”
Shocked murmurs spread throughout the square at the words, and people shook their heads. They simply could not believe the prisoner would choose such a terrible fate. Death was final, and no one wanted to die, but exile was far, far worse.
Even Douglas was surprised by the prisoner’s choice. “Er, well then. Exile, it is. Um, guards get the ladder. Quick, quick.”
A hushed silence fell over the crowd as the sentence was carried out. The music stopped, the children grew quiet, and the festive mood faded until nothing but a vague sense of impending doom remained. The two guards lifted up the rolled rope ladder and dropped it over the wall. After a quick examination revealed the ropes to be sound, they stepped back.
The prisoner did not wait for Douglas to make a final speech. Instead, he stepped forward and held out his chained hands. Sikes unlocked them with a key from his pocket, his expression blank. The man had no emotions. None that showed, at least.
Seth shook off the chains and rolled his shoulders. After a last look at the crowd below, he climbed over the wall and disappeared from view.
Rogue stared at the spot, unable to shake free from the dread that had a hold of her. It was as if the prisoner’s fate foretold her own. A sudden wind blew through the alley, and a cloud passed overhead. She shivered and rubbed her arms. Seth’s last words rang through her head like a bell. An odd choice of words.
Freedom.
He chose freedom.
Chapter 1
Rogue jerked awake, the threads of her dream still intertwined in her mind. The word freedom rang through her head, as clear as a bell, and the memory of that fateful day refused to let go. I remember it all now. Every detail. That was the day I first saw Seth.
She blinked at the ceiling above her head, then looked around. The room was a mystery with its white-washed walls and checkered curtains. Bright sunlight flooded in through the clear glass windows, and a vase filled with flowers decorated the table next to her bed. She fingered the crisp sheets with a frown and asked, “Where am I?”
A head covered in wild red curls popped up next to her, and Imogen stared at her with amazement. “You’re awake!”
“Err, I guess so,” Rogue said, not entirely certain of that fact. She raised one hand to her head. “Or is this a dream?”
“No dream. You’re in a hospital in Vancouver, and I could scream I’m so happy right now,” Imogen said, jumping up. She grabbed Rogue’s hand. “How do you feel? Terrible, I bet. You were so sick, we feared we’d lose you.”
“I was?” Rogue said, thinking hard. Bits and pieces rushed back in a jumbled mess. “That wild dog. It bit me.”
“That’s right, and the wound got all infected. I guess its jaws must’ve been horribly filthy,” Imogen said, pulling a face. “But, here you are. Alive and kicking.”
“Alive,” Rogue repeated in a faint voice. “I’m not sure what happened.”
“We stopped for a bathroom break, and you were in the trees—”
“The trees,” Rogue said, and her vision darkened as a shadow swooped across her memories.
“Are you alright?” Imogen asked.
“Flyers. We got attacked by flyers,” Rogue cried out, twisting around in the bed. “Is everyone okay? Did anyone get hurt? Where’s Seth?”
“We’re all fine, just bumps and bruises. A couple of scrapes, perhaps. Nothing serious,” Imogen said in a placating tone. She tried to push Rogue back down onto the pillows.
“Where is Seth? I need to see him,” Rogue insisted, resisting her efforts.
“Seth went to get coffee. It’s been a long wait.”
“A long wait? How long have I been sick?” Rogue asked with growing horror.
“You’ve been in hospital for a week now, and —”
“A week!” Rogue shook her head. “What about the people back home? What about the Red Flux? Are they getting help? Medicine?”
“Calm down, please,” Imogen pleaded. “It’s all taken care of, I promise.”
“It is?” Rogue asked, her heart still racing in her chest.
“Yes, now relax,” Imogen said. “You mustn’t exert yourself. If the doctor finds out I upset you, he’ll banish me from the room.”
“Banish you?”
“Yes, he’s quite strict about visitors,” Imogen said.
“O…okay.”
“Talking of visitors, my mom wants to meet you. She’s already met Seth and the others,” Imogen said.
“She does? Why?” Rogue asked in a faint voice.
“She likes to know what’s going on, and strangers from a distant colony is quite the news,” Imogen explained.
“I see,” Rogue said. She found it hard to keep up with Imogen in her current befuddled state. The girl was like a ping-pong ball: All over the place. “Start at the beginning, please. How did I get here?”
Imogen dropped into her chair, her smile blinding. “As you know, the flyers destroyed the jeep, and we all jumped into the van to make our escape.”
“I remember that much, yes,” Rogue said with a nod.
“That’s where things got dicey. The infection in your leg had spread throughout the rest of your body, and you were holding on by a thread. That’s why we decided to make straight for Vancouver.”
“Overnight?”
Imogen nodded, her eyes wide behind her spectacles.
“That was a dangerous call to make,” Rogue said.
“Seth insisted on pushing through, and how could any of us say no?” Imogen reasoned. “If we had delayed, you’d be dead now.”
The trip came back to Rogue in flashes with all of its bumps, starts, stops, and narrow calls. But the thing that stood out the most was the heat. Half the time, she’d felt like she was on fire. Burning up from the inside out as the infection raced through her veins.
She remembered that much. And Seth. He’d never once left her side, no matter how tired he got. Or how hopeless. He was the one who told her to fight. Who told her not to give u
p. He’s the reason I’m still alive.
“I’m just happy you’re still here,” Imogen said, gently touching her hand.
“You and me both,” Rogue said with a cough.
Imogen handed her a glass of water, and she took a couple of deep swallows. The cool liquid flowed across her parched tissues, and she lay back with a sigh of contentment. “That’s better.”
“Your vitals have stabilized at last,” Imogen said, looking at the monitors with a hawk’s eye. “I believe you’re out of the woods. Or so the doctor said, and he should know. He’s one of the best we’ve got.”
“The best?”
“I insisted on it, and my mother agreed,” Imogen said. “I was quite… a pain about it.”
“I can just imagine,” Rogue said. She shifted under the covers and grimaced when a twinge ran up her leg. While she felt much better, she also felt weird and out of place. She longed for a familiar face. Seth, her mom, Moran… anyone from her old life, really. Imogen was great, but she wasn’t family. Not yet.
Thankfully, Seth walked in at that moment. His face lit up when he saw her, awake and aware for the first time in a week. He rushed toward her bedside and slammed his coffee cup down on the bedside table. “Rogue! You’re awake!”
“That I am,” she said, her heart swelling inside her chest.
She gazed at his features and found them to be both familiar and yet strange. It was as if her dream, her memory, had given her a different perspective of him. It had shown her another side of his nature, one she was eager to explore.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling up short.
“Nothing,” she said, reaching out to him. He gathered her into his arms, and his warm scent filled her nostrils. A smile of contentment wreathed her lips, and she said, “It’s good to be back.”
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he said, still holding onto her with fierce determination.
“I’ll try,” she said, tracing the scar that ran across the left side of his face with a gentle fingertip.
The Extinction Series | Book 7 | Primordial Earth 7 Page 1
