The Extinction Series | Book 4 | Primordial Earth 4

by Higgins, Baileigh

  Violet didn’t bother to reply. Instead, she dipped her head and proceeded to graze as if she were back in her stall at home—a real queen.

  With a smile tugging at his lips, Bones saw to his own needs. He built a small fire and gathered several armfuls of wood. Enough to last the day and night. As the flickering flames heated the air inside his shelter, he reflected on its nature.

  It was so different from the destructive force that had nearly killed him that morning. The wildfire was precisely that, wild, dangerous, and fiery. On the other hand, his little blaze was warm and merry. A cheerful thing that provided comfort to humans and animals alike, judging by Violet’s placid manner.

  With a shake of his head, Bones curled up to sleep. Introspection was not his forte. He preferred to work with facts and reality. If he could see it, he could believe it.

  Throughout the long hours of the day and night, he dozed on and off. He only left the shelter to relieve himself and scout the area for danger. Other than that, he stayed inside and recouped his strength. He was determined to leave early the next morning and begin the search for the Exiles. He knew that once he’d located them, he’d find Rogue. She would go wherever her new family did. After all, there was nothing left for her in Prime City but death.

  When dawn broke, he was up like a flash. Restless energy suffused his body, and he quickly pulled on his boots and jacket. A strip of dried meat and a handful of nuts broke his fast, and he was ready to go.

  Violet wasn’t quite as eager, though. She shot him a baleful glare when he saddled up and led her outside. She was reluctant to leave the warmth and comfort of the cave, and he didn’t blame her. Compared to the world outside, their temporary home seemed like heaven.

  “Come on, old girl. We can’t stay here forever,” Bones said, patting her neck while he fiddled with the reins.

  In typical equestrian fashion, she blew up like a balloon. He had to tighten the saddle’s straps a second time around, a lesson he’d learned the hard way.

  Once he was in the saddle, he steered Violet upriver. As they traveled, he scanned the ground for tracks. If the Exiles had crossed the Willamette River at any point, he’d find it. An expert tracker, his eyes missed nothing, and neither did his other senses.

  It was different on the back of a horse, however. He found he was not in his element and dismounted to continue on foot. This suited Violet to perfection. While he scouted for footprints, she munched on mouthfuls of leaves and dropped piles of dung in her wake.

  They’d traveled a couple of miles before Bones found what he was looking for. Tracks, but not just any tracks. A lot of them. Many people had crossed the water at this point, their footprints blending into one big mess. He also spotted drag marks, the kind made by small boats and ferries, and wagon wheel tracks.

  “This is it. It was definitely them,” he muttered, excitement exploding within in his chest. Now that he’d picked up the trail, it was a simple matter of following it to its conclusion: The Exile’s new home.

  ***

  An hour later, Bones was ambling along in the saddle. With such an obvious path to follow, he didn’t need to go on foot. Even when the trail crossed patches of sand or rock, he never lost it. Overturned stones, broken branches, and crushed leaves were all indicators that a group of people had passed that way. Easy peasy.

  He did not allow himself to grow lazy, however, and remained alert. The first indication of possible danger came when Violet’s head lifted, and her nostrils flared. The wind was in their favor, blowing the scent toward them. Then her ears flicked forward, and he knew something was coming their way. Judging by her calm demeanor, it had to be people. She’d react differently to dinosaurs. That did not mean whoever it was would be friendly, though, and he got off the trail fast.

  Hidden behind a thick wall of foliage, he waited. The first person to come into view was a tall, rough-looking man wearing the Watch’s uniform. He counted five more heads in the party and pegged them for scouts. General Sikes had likely sent them out to look for the Exiles. The general was not the type to give up without a fight.

  When the fourth person walked past, he sucked in a deep breath. It was Rogue, the last person he’d expected to see at that moment. His stomach churned with a mixture of joy and anticipation, but it quickly faded when he noticed something off.

  Rogue was not herself. She stumbled along with her head held low and her hands tied behind her back. A prisoner. She was injured, as well. He could tell by the way she moved, favoring her left side. A makeshift bandage covered one hand, and her expression was one of pain and dejection.

  Rage colored his vision in crimson, and his hands moved toward his crossbow. How dare they treat her like that? He’d kill every last one of them if that’s what it took. For as long as he drew breath, he’d defend her with his life.

  With his mind made up, Bones waited until the group moved out of sight. He looped his horse’s reins around a bush to keep her in place but left them loose. Should a predator come by, he wanted her to be able to pull free and run to safety.

  Next, he checked his weapons. A knife rode on one hip and a hatchet on the other. Both were razor-sharp. With a full quiver of bolts on this back and the crossbow in his hands, he was ready.

  “Stay here, Violet. I’ve got business to take care of. If I don’t come back, go home.” Violet nickered softly, almost as if she knew there was trouble. He rubbed her nose with a wry smile. “Who’d have thought that my only friend would turn out to be a horse.”

  With a final pat, Bones set off into the brush. He moved fast but never made a sound. A ghost in the wind. Once he’d caught up with the scouts, he aimed his crossbow at the last man in the group. His sights lined up on the spot between the shoulder-blades, and he squeezed the trigger. I failed you once before, my love. I gave you up to Douglas and Sikes, but never again. I swear on my mother’s grave.

  Chapter 6 - General Sikes

  General Sikes reigned in his horse and looked back over the advancing lines of the army. Once more, a corrosive mixture of anger and pride filled his chest. Anger that he’d allowed the Exiles to slip through his fingers. Pride in the strength of his forces. Soon, they’d return to Prime, and he’d be forced to admit their failure.

  All was not lost, however. The Zoo was no more, burned to the ground, and the Exiles had nowhere to go. Before long, his scouts would find them, and he’d have his revenge. His hands balled into fists, and Sikes made a silent vow. I’ll crush them into dust—every single one of them. Not a man, woman, or child will escape my wrath.

  The thought subdued his anger, and he spurred his horse into a canter. The sooner he got home, the better. Some matters required his attention back at Prime. The last of Douglas’ men had to be rooted out and hanged. New rules needed to be put into place, and he’d appoint his own men to key positions in the city and council.

  He had big plans for the future. No longer would they cower behind their walls. Hunting parties would go out once more, and they’d expand their crops out into the fields. With the right precautions in place, it could work, and Prime would flourish once more. If the Exiles could do it, so can we.

  Then there was the inauguration. In his mind’s eye, he envisioned a grand ceremony in the main square. It would be a festive affair complete with decorations, music, and market stalls. The Watch would be there to salute him, dressed in their full regalia, and the townspeople would cheer as he ascended the stage. Maybe I should marry Kat afterward. She’s strong, healthy, and still young enough to bear children.

  It was time he paid heed to his legacy, after all, and to do that, he needed an heir. Sons to carry his bloodline into the future. If Kat could not produce, he’d simply get rid of her. Besides, a splendid wedding would give the people something to celebrate, and it would divert their attention from the executions.

  For executions, there would be. Not only would Douglas’ cronies hang, but so would the remnants of the Rebel Faction. I will remake this world in my image. Mi
ne.

  ***

  Several hours later, Sikes topped out on a low rise. In the distance stood Prime. Its walls beckoned to him with their promise of safety and security. They provided a bulwark against the primordial world and its vicious creatures. It would form the hub of his new kingdom—a place from which to plan and strategize.

  As the army crawled across the open field, his impatience grew. Several times he surged ahead only to return and harangue the junior captains. “Pick up the pace, you lazy bastards. I’d like to reach Prime City before I die of old age.”

  The juniors tried their best to obey, but a body that large could only move so fast. The wagons and carts at the back trundled along at a snail’s pace while the soldiers dragged their feet. The trip had taken its toll, and morale was low.

  Not that Sikes cared. He’d whip them back into shape soon enough, but for now, he needed to move. Action was his remedy for all things: action and violence.

  Goliath matched his frustration, and the great stallion chomped at the bit. It danced around and shook its head until Sikes had to fight for control of the reins. Finally, he let the horse have its head, and they closed the final distance at full gallop.

  Sikes leaned forward in the saddle, his body in sync with the mighty animal between his knees. He enjoyed the sensation of speed and the rhythmic beat of Goliath’s hooves pounding the earth.

  Prime City loomed above him, and he reined in the horse with a tinge of reluctance. Exhilaration fizzed through his veins, and he cupped his hand around his mouth. “Hail the wall.” When nothing happened, he frowned and tried again. “Hail the wall.”

  Again, nothing happened. Utter silence reigned, and anger took the place of euphoria. He shouted again, louder this time. “Hail the wall. It’s General Sikes, you lazy bastards. Show your faces, or I’ll have you whipped for insolence.”

  A head popped up, and a man leaned over the edge of the wall. “General Sikes?”

  “Yes, it’s me, you idiot. I’ve returned along with the army. Open the gates this instant,” Sikes demanded.

  “I’m afraid I can’t, General,” came the polite reply. “I have orders to the contrary.”

  “Orders? What orders?”

  “I’ve been ordered not to let you or anyone else enter the city,” the guard explained.

  Sikes reared back in the saddle, taken by complete surprise. “Who dares to issue such an order? I’m in command here. Not you, and not anyone else inside those forsaken walls.”

  “I cannot open the gates by order of Callum MacNamara,” the guard said.

  Shock reverberated throughout Sikes’ body. “Callum? Callum gave you that order?”

  “That’s right, Sir,” the guard said with a nod.

  “That traitorous snake,” General Sikes bellowed. “I don’t care what he said; I’m your master. Open the gates.”

  “I cannot, Sir,” the guard repeated.

  “I’ll have your head for this,” Sikes threatened, shaking his fist at the guard.

  The guard remained silent, his face impassive.

  Rage flowed through Sike’s veins, and hot blood rushed to his cheeks. “I’ll give you one last chance, you little maggot. Open the gates, or I’ll personally ensure that you and your entire family hang from the gibbets before sunset today.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir, but you are no longer my commanding officer. Callum MacNamara is,” the guard replied.

  “I’ll have your head for this. You and that traitorous, backstabbing, son of a bitch you call your commander,” Sikes yelled, venting the full force of his anger. He carried on for several minutes, spewing poison at the unforgiving wall and its hapless guard.

  Finally, he stopped, grasping for coherent thought. He needed to calm down. He could not allow his temper to get the better of him. Not now. Not when there was so much at stake. As long as he and the army were stuck outside the walls, they were vulnerable to attack. The nearby city ruins teemed with dinosaur life, most of it unfriendly.

  Gritting his teeth, he changed tactics. “Call MacNamara. Let me speak to him myself.”

  “As you wish, General,” the guard said, disappearing from sight.

  Sikes stared at the empty spot for several seconds, unable to believe what had just transpired. Callum had betrayed him, and so had the entire city. The gates were locked against him, and everything had changed. I should’ve known this would happen. It’s my own fault for trusting Callum. When I did that, I broke my number one rule: Never trust anyone. Ever.

  ***

  While Sikes waited for MacNamara, the rest of the army caught up with him. They milled about in front of the wall, confused and uncertain. Nobody knew what was going on, and a growing sense of fear filled the atmosphere. Why were the gates closed? Why weren’t they opening? What was going on? These questions and more flew from one mouth to the next until the entire army hovered on the verge of full-blown panic.

  Sikes knew he had to do something, and he had to do it fast. Within minutes, he’d gathered the junior captains around. He picked the most competent looking one and pointed at him. “You. What’s your name?”

  “Gregory Phelps, Sir,” the man replied with a full salute.

  Sikes grunted with approval. He needed a replacement for Bones, and Phelps seemed as good as any. “I’m promoting you to full Captain of the army. You will answer to me and only to me. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “I want you and the junior captains to spread the word. The Rebel Faction has taken over Prime City in our absence. They used cunning and force to overthrow the forces I left behind, and the city is now under their control.”

  A ripple of shock ran through the assembled officers, and their eyes grew wide. Captain Phelps raised a hand and asked, “What about our families?”

  “I don’t know,” Sikes said. “My best guess is they’re scared but unharmed.”

  “What now, Sir?” Phelps asked. “What do we do?”

  “Do? We fight, of course. We take back what is ours, and we liberate our loved ones,” General Sikes said. “We cannot leave them under the yoke of the rebels. We owe it to them to fight until Prime is free once more. Free and under our stewardship. The stewardship of the Watch and the people. Are you with me?”

  “Yes, Sir,” the officers agreed as one.

  “I’m glad you understand, but we need the army on our side. They have to be ready to fight to their last breath,” Sikes added.

  “Err, how do we do that, Sir?” one of the junior captains asked.

  “It’s simple. Spread the word about the Rebel Faction’s treachery. Make sure the men understand what’s at stake, and that we cannot afford to let our fears get the better of us. Our families are counting on us, and we can’t let them down.”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “While you’re at it, make camp. Close to the walls, but not within striking distance. Make certain the supply wagons and animals are at the center where it’s safest and establish a defensive perimeter with armed guards.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “That will be all,” Sikes said, waving the junior officers away. “Except for you, Phelps. I have special orders for you.”

  “Sir?” Phelps said, lingering behind the rest.

  “We cannot rely on armed guards alone. Not while we’re stuck out here in the open,” Sikes said. “See to our defenses. Dig trenches, build a wall, put up sharpened stakes, make fire pits, use rubble from the ruins or even old cars. I don’t care how you do it, but get it done.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Phelps said.

  “More than that, we’ll need supplies. Send out foraging parties to hunt and gather food. Plus, we’ll need scouts to warn us of incoming danger.”

  “I’ll do my best, Sir,” Captain Phelps said.

  “Good, because if you fail me, I’ll have your head on a stake. Understood?” Sikes asked.

  “Sir, yes, Sir!” Phelps answered with more than just a hint of fear.

  “Excellent,” General Sikes said
, baring his teeth in a predatory grin. “Oh, and one last thing. Gather up a team of engineers and carpenters. Anyone with the skill or expertise to build siege weapons.”

  “Siege weapons?”

  “You heard me. The only way we’re getting back inside is by forcing our way through those gates. For that, we need weapons. The medieval kind.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You’re excused.”

  Phelps rushed away, and Sikes turned his attention back to the wall. Soon, he and Callum would talk, and he had no illusions about the outcome. If he wanted Prime back, he’d have to fight for it.

  While he cursed MacNamara for his treachery, he also admired the man. After all, Callum had done precisely what Sikes would have done in his stead. He took what he wanted, and the consequences be damned.

  Chapter 7 - Kat

  Kat stared at her naked reflection in the mirror. Her wounds had healed, but the scars remained. Dorian’s final parting gift to her. She traced her fingers along the jagged lines that criss crossed her stomach, thighs, and breasts. There were more on her back and buttocks. They were a grizzly reminder of the night of torture she’d suffered at her ex-lover’s hands, but her face bothered her the most.

  A deep cut had affected her left cheek’s muscles, and the corner of her mouth drooped ever so slightly. Where the flesh knitted together, shiny pink scar tissue had formed. More cuts marred her chin, bisected her right eyebrow, and slashed across her jawline. It was not a pretty sight, and her once-famous beauty was a thing of the past.

  Averting her eyes, Kat reached for the dress laid out on the bed. It was a simple black sheath, accessorized by a cloak and hood in the same color—a somber outfit for a somber day.

  She slipped on the dress and swung the cloak over her shoulders. With the hood drawn over her head, her scars were almost invisible. Almost.

  She reached for the mask that lay waiting on her vanity. Made from crimson silk, it was shaped to cover the top half of her face and the left cheek. All that showed were her full lips and a patch of untouched skin.