“I think I’m gonna need this just as much as you do,” Rogue said with a cough.
The amber liquor burned like fire, coiling in the pit of her stomach like a golden snake. She gasped and sputtered, her eyes tearing up. “Whoo, that’s potent stuff.”
With a shaky hand, she handed him the bottle. He tipped it back, swallowing almost half. Once he was done, she asked, “Are you ready for this?”
“Are you?” he said, eyeing her with red-rimmed eyes.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, “but I’ll give it my best shot. Hold on. I need to change.”
With those words, she hurried to the storeroom and grabbed a fresh shirt and jacket. She dumped the old garments on the floor and rushed to the bathroom. There, she washed the raptor blood from her face and hands before donning the fresh clothes. “There. That should do it.”
Back in the common room, Rogue disinfected her hands with a dash of whiskey. Bruce was barely conscious. The liquor had done its magic. She took a stand behind him and lifted up his bloody shirt. “Oh, my God.”
The old bolt wound wept blood in a steady stream. The stitches had torn loose, leaving the flesh ragged and infected. It was a lot worse than even she could have imagined, and for a moment, she panicked. What do I do? What do I do?
Then, a sense of calm overtook her, and she realized there was no time to waste. Moran and Patti’s old advice came back to her in a stream of disjointed thoughts and images. First, clean and disinfect the wound.
Rogue proceeded to wash the injury with antiseptic, clearing away the old blood and mucus stuck to the wound. She also removed the old stitches and tossed them in a bin. They were useless now.
Secondly, she prodded inside the gash, looking for a foreign body of some sort. She found none, which was a relief. Also, the infection wasn’t as widespread as she’d thought. It was localized inside the cut itself and hadn’t yet had a chance to attack the rest of his body.
Despite his weakened state, Bruce did not have a terribly high fever. His main problem lay with pain and blood-loss. “How are you feeling, Bruce? More whisky?” she coaxed.
“Sure, why not,” he slurred, downing a few more sips. “It doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”
“You’re an ass,” she muttered, taking the bottle from him. She needed a lot more herself for the ordeal to come. Stitches. Man, I hate doing stitches.
With the wound cleaned and disinfected, she closed it up with a needle and thread. It looked like a line of black ants crawling on his skin, but it did the job. After plastering on a thick layer of Seth’s home-grown antiseptic cream, she put a band-aid over and stuck him with a needle full of expired antibiotics and pain medication. “If that doesn’t kill you, nothing will.”
“You think?” Bruce asked, eyeing her through lidded eyes. He’d held still during the entire procedure, not once giving her trouble.
With her assistance, he donned a fresh shirt and jacket. With his crossbow lying on the table, he resumed his former position. She cleared away the medical supplies and rubbish.
“You’re a tough son of a gun, you know that?” she said afterward, taking the chair opposite him. There was still a quarter bottle of whiskey left, and she shared it with him one sip at a time.
“I wonder how the fight’s going,” he said.
“Listen for yourself,” she replied, taking another fortifying swig of alcohol.
The crashes, bangs, shrieks, and shouts hadn’t stopped for even a second throughout her treatment of Bruce’s injury. In fact, it had grown worse. A lot worse.
“They’re probably inside by now,” Bruce said, staring at the tabletop.
“Probably,” Rogue said, feeling defeated.
“I’m sorry,” Bruce said, eyeing her with a drunken gaze. “You’re too young to go like this.”
“So are you and Moran. Bear and Steven. Seth,” she said with a note of sorrow. “It can’t end like this.”
“What we need is a miracle,” Bruce said.
Rogue’s eyes fell on the metal box, and she jumped up. “Whether or not we make it, I want to know what’s inside that stupid thing.”
She ran to the storeroom and got a hammer and chisel. With those, she started banging on the lock. The damned thing refused her every effort until sweat stung her eyes and her arms shook with fatigue. She rocked back on her heels. “Why won’t it open?”
Bruce stared at her. With slow movements, he picked up his sword. “Rogue, my sweet. There’s a time to admit defeat, and that box is it. But that doesn’t mean we can’t go down fighting.”
She cocked her head, knowing he was right. The fight was drawing closer, and she guessed Seth and the others were losing ground. The raptors were almost to the heart of the boat, and there was no stopping them. Nothing short of a miracle would prevent the massacre that was sure to follow. Soon, it would be them fighting for their lives inside the tiny space they stood in. The same place that would become their tomb. But even with that knowledge, she couldn’t let go of the metal container. I have to know what’s inside.
With a final surge of strength, she brought the hammer down on the chisel. The lock broke, leaving the box open. With her heart in her throat, she opened it. “Oh, my God.”
“What is it?” Bruce asked. “What’s in there?”
“Our salvation.” Rogue jumped up, cradling the box in both arms. “Bruce, I need to get to Seth. I’ll never make it alone. Can you help me?”
Bruce blinked. For a moment, she thought he was too far gone, but then he stood up. “I’ll make sure you get to him, even if it’s the death of me.” He swayed like a reed in the wind but seemed determined to back her.
“Are you sure?” Rogue asked.
“For you and Moran, the only family I’ve ever wanted,” he replied. “Point the way.”
Rogue dashed out of the room with Bruce close on her heels. On a whim, she took his bloody shirt with her. Within seconds, she encountered Bear. He was backing down a narrow corridor, swinging his hammer at a raptor. The creature’s bulk filled the entire hallway, and its tail lashed about like a whip. Its claws ticked on the floor. Tick, tick, tick until she thought it was the only sound in the universe.
Tick, tick, tick.
“Bear, where’s Seth?” Rogue cried.
“Back the other way,” Bear roared, hitting the raptor a stunning blow on the snout.
It shrunk away from the blow, clawing at its face, but another stood ready to take its place. Right then, Rogue knew their saving grace lay inside the box. If only she could get it to Seth. If not, they were doomed.
“Hold them back, Bear,” she shouted before running in the direction he’d pointed.
“I’ll try,” he roared, swinging at another raptor with all his might. “Hurry!”
Rogue ran like a blind man, following her instincts. She carved her way to the bow of the boat, encountering raptors twice. The first time, she didn’t slow. Instead, she charged at the monstrous lizard with one hand on her machete.
At the last moment, she folded her legs and slid underneath the beast with her weapon pointed upward. Hot, steaming innards fell from its stomach as the skin split beneath her blade like an overripe tomato. The raptor shrieked its final death cry before collapsing to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
“Slow down, woman,” Bruce cried. “You’re making me look bad.”
“Keep up, slowpoke,” she cried, getting to her feet.
The second time came as a complete surprise. One minute, they were alone. Then a raptor busted through a hatch like an avenging angel…or beast.
Rogue was tossed through the air, a rag doll with no control of its limbs. She crashed against the bulkhead with a painful grunt. With the box cradled in her arms, she watched the raptor close in. Its slitted pupils fixed onto her fragile form, and its lips peeled back from its teeth.
It lunged forward, but Bruce jumped to the rescue, swinging his sword. It lodged deep inside the creature’s cranium, and it collapsed on top of her. Rogue
stared at the raptor’s teeth, shining like ivory daggers. They were a whisper away from plunging into her throat.
“Move, sister. Move!” Bruce cried, disentangling her from the corpse. “We have to find Seth.”
“I know,” Rogue answered. Ignoring the chaos around her, she focused on finding him. She ran down one corridor after the other. “Seth, where are you?”
“Over here!”
“Where?”
“Here.”
“Seth!”
He tumbled around a corner and paused when he spotted her. “Rogue!”
His expression shifted from that of a hunted deer to one of utter dismay. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving all our asses,” she replied, shoving the box into his arms. “I thought you could use that.”
He glanced at the contents, and a smile curled around his lips. “I sure could.”
“What about this?” she asked, waving Bruce’s bloody shirt. “It might lure them to a certain spot?”
“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said.
Rogue stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “I know.”
“Get her back to the common room,” Seth commanded Bruce. “Her and everyone else you find along the way.”
“And then what?” Bruce asked. He peered at the contents of the container and grinned. “Never mind. Do what you have to do. I’ll keep them safe.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Seth cried before turning to Rogue. “This is what we needed to turn the tide of war, now hurry back.”
“What about you?” Rogue said, not willing to leave his side.
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Seth said.
“Promise?” Rogue asked.
“Promise.”
Chapter 10 - Seth
Seth tucked the box under one arm and sprinted toward the wheelhouse. Everything depended on him now, and he couldn’t fail. If he did, they were all dead. Along the way, he thought about Rogue. She just couldn’t let that box alone, could she?
It was typical of her nature. She was always looking for something more, never content to sit back and let things be. While it annoyed him at times, mainly because it got her into lots of trouble, he also liked that about her. She had intelligence and guts, a powerful combination. Not one to let the good things pass him by, Seth knew she was the girl for him. And I don’t plan on letting her get away.
In this fashion, Seth navigated the length of the boat. With his mind fixated on Rogue, he allowed his guard to drop. That changed when a shriek reverberated down his spine, and the hair on the back of his neck rose. He looked over his shoulder and almost fell to his knees. A raptor was in full pursuit, its muscular hindlegs propelling it forward at an incredible speed. Its head was dropped low to the ground, and its slitted pupils honed in on Seth’s form with predatory instinct. The claws on its front legs curled outward, ready to hook into his flesh and rend it apart.
“Oh, shit,” Seth yelled, knowing he couldn’t outrun the raptor. It was a lot faster than he was, and his only hope lay in outmaneuvering it.
With his precious cargo clutched to his chest, he pumped his legs as fast as they could go. His heartbeat increased until it felt like a runaway freight train, and his lungs heaved for oxygen. Sweat poured from his brow, stinging his eyes and lips. Come on, come on. Just a little bit further.
Seth spotted the bend he was looking for, and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Buckling down, he used the last of his reserves to keep going, to keep ahead of the monstrous creature that breathed down his neck.
At the last possible moment, he swerved to the right. The raptor, unaware of the coming turn in the hallway, didn’t slow. It plowed into the bulkhead at full speed, connecting head-first with the steel wall. Its body folded in on itself like a wet rag, and its neck snapped with an audible crack of bone and vertebrae. Dead on impact, the raptor sagged to the floor.
Seth never slowed but pushed ahead until he reached the wheelhouse. He dashed inside and shut the door, hoping no more raptors showed up to crash the party. With a fresh surge of adrenalin fueling his actions, he scrambled up the ladder and onto the roof.
A wave of fresh air smacked him in the face, and he sucked in a deep breath. Relief flushed his veins and lightened his steps. He’d made it. Despite all the odds, he was on top of the wheelhouse. There was no time to celebrate, however. Their fate still hung in the balance.
Placing the box on the floor, he opened it and surveyed the objects inside. A wolfish grin twisted his lips as he rose to his feet. With his body hidden from view by the wooden screen, he searched for the enemy.
During the attack, dusk had fallen. The sun hovered above the horizon shedding the last of its golden light while streaks of gray crossed the heavens. Seth grabbed the binoculars and pressed them to his eyes. Soon, he had the raptors pinpointed.
It appeared they’d broken through a hatch on the starboard side and were lined up to gain entry. He counted at least three in the group, possibly more. It was hard to make out specific details in the gloom.
Praying it wasn’t a mistake, he waved Bruce’s bloody shirt in the air. “Hey, you stupid sacks of meat. Look what I’ve got!”
As one, three heads turned in his direction. One raptor snorted while another hissed like a snake. Their nostrils flared as they drank in the scent of fresh blood, and they shifted away from the hatch and toward him. A fourth raptor stuck its head outside the boat, also drawn by the delicious smell.
Seth balled up the shirt and prepared to toss it onto the bank. Then, a realization hit him, and he froze. It would never work. The material wasn’t heavy enough to travel that far. It would simply unravel and float down to the deck. Despair set in, and he tore at his hair with frustration. “That’s just great. Fucking marvelous.”
At the same time, his mind raced for a solution. He couldn’t give up. Not now. Not when their lives depended on it. Hurry up, they’re getting closer!
The little voice in the back of his head was right. The raptors on the boat were moving in, slinking across the deck with deadly intent. They had spread out into a fan formation, four primal creatures intent on taking him down. In this primordial world, he was nothing but prey. Stuck at the bottom of the food chain.
He saw two more raptors emerge from the hatch, drawn by the hunt taking place on deck. On the one hand, he was elated. The more of the beasts he could lure out, the better. However, it increased the already precarious nature of his situation ten-fold.
Seth cast around for a solution while panic threatened to set in. A knot formed in his throat, and his hands were shaking so much he nearly dropped the shirt. The nearest raptor was now only ten feet away, and he still had no idea what to do.
Then it hit him, and he almost laughed; it was so simple. Moving as fast as he could, he ripped off his left shoe and tied the shirt around it. With one powerful throw, he lobbed the shoe through the air and watched with bated breath as it landed on the shore. Yes!
Six pairs of eyes followed its trajectory, and in an instant, the race was on. The deck shook and pounded as the raptors raced toward their tempting prize. They launched themselves off the boat and stormed the hapless shoe. Razor-sharp teeth tore into the bloody material, and a tussle broke out as six creatures fought for possession.
It played out precisely as Seth wanted, and he wasted no time putting his deadly plan into motion. Let’s see what those monsters make of these babies!
He scooped up a grenade in each hand and removed the pins with his thumbs. One after the other, he tossed them into the raptor’s midst. The first missed and rolled down the embankment into the shallow water, but the second landed right in the middle of the tussling raptors.
With his hands pressed to his ears, Seth crouched down and braced himself for the blast. Through a small gap in the wooden screen, he watched the events unfold.
One of the raptors spotted the curious object when it landed on the ground, and it picked it up with its jaws. Seconds later, the bomb exploded, ta
king the curious raptor and its packmates with it. Chunks of meat blew outward in a circle of mass destruction, and a fine crimson mist colored the air. The ground shook, and the boat shifted in its spot on the bank with a plaintive groan.
Then the second grenade went off in the shallows, causing a geyser ten feet high. A wall of water slapped against the hull, and Seth was sprayed with fat drops raining down from the sky.
It was a spectacular show, and it soon drew the surviving raptors from within the boat. They ran about in consternation, sniffing the remains of their pack with snorts and squeals.
It was the moment Seth had been waiting for, and he bombarded them with more grenades. Not all of the missiles were bombs. There were a couple of stun and smoke grenades in the bunch, but these he saved for another occasion. Right now, he needed real firepower.
In the blink of an eye, the raptor ranks were decimated. Fully a third were either dead or dying while the rest fled into the forest at great speed. Bear chased the last one, a youngster judging by its small size, out of the boat with his hammer. He gave it a farewell blow on the rump for good measure.
“Take that, you mangy lizard!” Bear bellowed after the hapless dino. The youngster never looked back as it fled in a flurry of legs, tail, and feathers.
Moran and Steven emerged from another hatch, their faces wreathed with smiles. They were followed By Rogue and Bruce. The latter looked worn out, but he was still alive. They all were, and it was nothing short of a miracle.
Seth jumped down from the roof and joined the others on the deck. Together, they faced the world, triumphant and victorious.
“You did it,” Rogue said, looping her arm through Seth’s. “I knew you could.”
“No, we did it,” he replied, smiling down at her. “We all did.”
“Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds,” Moran said, “but, now the real work starts: Getting rid of the bodies and securing the boat for the night.”
Rogue pulled a face. “You really know how to ruin the moment, Moran.”
“It’s what I do,” Moran replied with a serene smile.
The Extinction Series | Book 3 | Primordial Earth 3 Page 6