Rogue’s heart hammered in her chest. She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to see the world just once, but her mouth wouldn’t work. Could she survive out there? She had survived in the Prime’s slums since that fateful day twenty years ago, since the day of the Shift. But could she survive among the monsters? A quick, instantaneous death would be far better than starving or being ripped apart alive by the carnivores.
“You must choose,” Douglas insisted.
Only one person had ever chosen to go over the wall. Dozens of people had been put to death over the years, but most had chosen the bullet. Or Douglas had chosen for them when their indecision paralyzed them.
“Must I make your choice for you?” Irritation crept into Douglas’s voice. Bones prodded Rogue with his baton.
“I-I-I’ll go over the wall.” Her voice was only a whisper as her heart hammered against her ribs. She was terrified of what lay beyond their walls, but she couldn’t give up. She had to at least try to survive out in the wild.
“Are you sure?” Douglas looked genuinely surprised.
Rogue swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I want to go over the wall.” This time her voice came out clear as the decision solidified in her mind.
Douglas looked down at the platform, seeming disappointed in her. “If that is your wish, my dear.” He took a few steps forward, standing directly in front of Rogue and placing a hand with fat sausage fingers on her shoulder. “May God make your end swift and painless.”
With a quick jerk, Rogue shook off his hand, the anger bubbling up inside her and boiling over before she could stop it. “You’re the one who should go over the wall!” She spat in his face. “You hoard everything for yourself while the rest of us starve! I wouldn’t be here if you took care of us the way you claim to. You’re a monster!”
Douglas’s face contorted, and his palm struck her cheek so hard that her head snapped around. Rogue stumbled, losing her footing. A scream rose in her throat as she crashed toward the edge of the platform, her head hanging over the side. Below, the crowd collectively gasped, their excited chatter rising as they watched on.
Douglas knelt down next to her. “You are here because you’re worthless scum who has subsisted on my mercy.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back. “Well, the gravy train stops here.” The senator stood, tugging the edges of his suit back into place as he wiped his hands free from her filth. “Drop the ladder.”
Bones hoisted the huge rope ladder over the edge. The planks smacked against the wall and clattered against the stone as it unrolled. Sikes grabbed Rogue by her arm, roughly yanking her to her feet.
“Don’t try anything funny,” Sikes whispered in her ear. “I’ll take any reason I can get to end you right now. This is more than you deserve.” The pressure released on her wrists as the cuffs fell away, leaving only raw skin behind. Bones watched her down the sights of his bow.
“Move!” Sikes shoved her from behind, making her stumble toward the ladder.
Rogue leaned over the edge, looking down to the ground. Her breath hitched. The ground was so far down. The fall alone would kill her.
“Start climbing,” Bones shouted. “This is your last warning.”
Rogue gripped the ladder and swung her legs over the edge. Her palms grew sweaty with fear, and her stomach lurched each time she looked down. There was no going back, however. She’d made her decision, and now she had to see it through. Step by step, she climbed down the wall, leaving behind the place she’d called home for so many years. This was it. She was an exile.
Chapter 4
The way down was long and treacherous. It required every bit of strength she possessed to hold on and not plunge to her death. When her feet finally touched the ground, a sigh of relief escaped her lips. It faded when she realized she was out in the open. Alone and vulnerable.
Slowly, Rogue turned, placing her back to the wall. Her eyes darted from building to building, trying to take in each rustling leaf and dancing spot of light. The setting sun created deep shadows, giving any number of predators ample places to hide.
“Get going!” Sikes bellowed as he leaned over the wall. Rogue turned to face him, tilting her head back to see the very top.
From inside, the walls had seemed like an impenetrable fortress. From outside, they looked like a crumbling relic. Deep gouges and long scratches stretched on for as far as she could see in either direction, a testament to their necessity. Rogue reached out, running her hand along one of the deep scars in the stone.
Suddenly, the ground rumbled, rooting her in place. Every muscle in her body tensed, hoping that a long-necked Alamosaurus was responsible for the shakes. Though big, they were harmless. From up above, the Watch shouted as they reacted to whatever was behind her.
Slowly, Rogue turned.
It wasn’t a long neck.
The carnivore towered over the decaying strip mall. Its oak colored skin was slashed with stripes of dark chocolate brown, concealing the beast within the trees. In the waning light, against the backdrop of the forest, the creature had been invisible.
The Albertosaurus lifted its head and scented the air. Smaller than the Tyrannosaurus at nine meters in length, it was still big enough to turn her insides to water. Its mouth dropped open, revealing a row of long, serrated teeth. An ear-splitting roar erupted from the creature’s gaping maw. Rogue clapped her hands over her ears in a feeble attempt to block out the sound.
The earth shook beneath her feet as the creature barreled toward the wall. Rogue scrambled out of it’s path, sliding across the ground as her feet flew out from underneath her. Pain lanced through her arms as pebbles bit into her flesh.
The beast didn’t slow as it approached. Instead, it rammed into the wall, using its body like a battering ram. The wall shuddered beneath the impact, and tiny flakes of stone rained down on Rogue.
The carnivore staggered backward, shaking its head from side to side. As it stood to its full height, the beast’s head was almost level with the top of the wall. It eyed the barrier incredulously. Despite its size, the Albertosaurus had a tiny brain. The creature wasn’t great at reasoning, and its thoughts were limited to the basics: hunt, kill, and eat.
The beast approached the wall, craning its head to snuffle at the top. No sound came from inside the city. Had the guards been knocked down? Had they frozen?
Suddenly, the carnivore roared again. It leaped up, craning its head just over the edge. Its teeth snapped together with bone-crushing force and screams issued from within the city. The claws on the end of its short arms raked across the stone, creating new furrows alongside the old.
“Hey!” Rogue screamed so loud it made her throat sore. She didn’t care about the Watch or Douglas, but there were innocent people inside the walls. Moran and her followers. If the gigantic beast tore down the stone barrier, what would happen to them?
“Hey!” she cried again, but the creature didn’t notice her.
She ran up to the carnivore and slammed her fist into its tree trunk of an ankle. The beast shook its foot as if shaking off a mosquito. Rogue barely had time to throw herself out of the way before the massive claws crashed down.
The dinosaur reared back and screamed, not a hunter’s war cry, but a shriek of pain. A six-foot arrow from the ballistae protruded from its snout, and blood gushed down the beast’s chest. As the carnivore prepared to launch itself at the wall again, a heavy thunk resonated. Another arrow sprouted from its shoulder, and it shrieked in agony.
Enraged, the dino slunk away from the wall. It had had enough. But as the carnivore turned, it paused. Its eyes locked onto Rogue, and it sucked in a deep breath as it scented the air.
No. No. No. No. No.
Horror filled Rogue’s mind, and she scrambled to her feet. Why hadn’t she left the city to its fate? Prime city had survived this long, fighting off countless attacks, so why should this time be different? I should’ve run while I had the chance.
Rogue crouched low on the b
alls of her feet, eyeing the carnivore. In the corner of her eye, she spotted a building. It was her only shot at survival. Sucking in a deep breath, she sprinted toward the flimsy shelter.
The dinosaur’s deep reverberating roar followed her, and the ground shook as the behemoth gave chase. Rogue weaved around the corner of the building, ducking under the awning. The beast shoved its massive head after her. Its hot, rancid breath washed over her face as the carnivore snapped its teeth mere inches from her skin. As the monster pulled back, it took the awning with it, ripping it straight off the building’s side.
Rogue dove through the shattered doors in a bid to escape. The creature lunged after her, pushing its body into the doorway. Mortar crumbled, and bricks shattered. She never paused, but ran through the store, leaping over fallen displays. Her feet slid across the cheap linoleum as she looked for an escape.
There!
A door.
With her sights were focused solely on the back door, she slammed into it and forced the rusted hinges open. Her feet flew across the concrete pavement outside, dodging the cracks and holes caused by time.
Behind her, the gigantic carnivore’s roar echoed off the buildings. Rogue didn’t look back. She left the wall and the Albertosaurus behind as she fled into the abandoned parts of the city. Screw Douglas, and screw the dinosaur. It could have Prime for all she cared at that moment.
After a long time, she slowed, but her legs wouldn’t stop moving. She couldn’t shake the sense that the carnivore was still behind her, hunting her. The sun had almost set, and deep shadows lurked around every corner. Weird noises began to rise around her. The sounds of the night creatures going about their business. Fear leached into her bones, and she shivered as she walked through the darkening streets.
Rogue’s legs felt like lead, and her limbs were shaky and weak. She hadn’t eaten all day. The only sustenance she’d had was that which Moran had smuggled to her, but food wasn’t what she wanted most. For now, she only wanted sleep. Sleep and safety from the things that lurked in the night.
She considered the buildings around her. The windows had long since been broken out, leaving behind cavernous black pits. She wouldn’t be able to see once she got inside, not without some kind of light. By now, anything could have nested within the ruined walls, and she had no weapons. No means of defense.
She continued walking until her eyes fell upon an object in the road: A rusted van. Its windows were covered in dirt and grime so thick that she couldn’t see inside. Rogue yanked on the door. It didn’t budge. Frustrated, she threw all her weight against the sliding door. As the metal slid partially open, she slipped, landing hard on her knees. With a muttered curse, she climbed to her feet. “Perfect. More injuries. That’s all I need now.”
Desperate to find refuge, Rogue peered inside the van. Nothing moved. It was empty. With a sob of relief, she climbed in and wrestled the door shut again. The seats were musty but soft. Softer than anything she’d slept on since before the Shift. She inspected her palms and knees, finding them scraped but whole. No fresh blood marred the surface to lure predators. A small boon.
Outside, the creatures of the night continued to call to each other. Somewhere in the distance, a shrill scream rose as something took its last breath. Rogue wrapped her arms around herself, curling up into a ball on the seat as she listened to the scream fade. Terror and loneliness wrestled within her until exhaustion won out, and she fell asleep.
Chapter 5
“And I’ll huff, and I’ll puff…” Most of the children stared at Mrs. Walton with rapt interest as she read aloud from the Three Little Pigs, but Lillian couldn’t stay focused. With a sigh, she rested her chin on her hands, wiggling as she tried to get comfortable. The floor was hard, and the thin mat with colored squares did nothing to soften it. She wanted to play. She wanted to go back to the jungle gym. She hadn’t even gotten to take her turn on the slides at recess.
Lillian’s gaze drifted to the window. Cars whizzed by just past the small parking lot. Sunlight shimmered against their windows, flashing as they moved along the road. Even what lay outside the school was boring.
Her mother told her that school was important. That she needed to pay attention so she could be a big, smart girl, one day. But the days were so long, and the teacher asked so many questions. Her parents never had time to play when she got home either. Her mother was too busy making dinner, and her father always got home late.
“Who’s ready for a snack?” Lillian snapped out of her daydreaming. Her stomach gurgled, and she rushed toward her desk. Halfway there, she stopped. She had made a promise this morning and hadn’t kept it. As the other kids clamored at their desks, Lillian dragged her feet, tears blurring her vision.
“Lillian, honey, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Walton knelt next to her, taking Lillian’s hand in her own.
“I can’t eat my cookies.” Lillian sniffled, the tears spilling over and rolling down her cheeks.
“Why not?” her teacher asked with a frown.
“Mommy made me promise to pay attention, but I didn’t.” She pulled at the bottom of her shirt. Mrs. Walton would be disappointed that she hadn’t listened too.
Mrs. Walton pulled Lillian into a hug. “How about this?” Mrs. Walton caught Lillian’s gaze, smoothing her hair, and wiping away the tears. “Why don’t you eat your cookies and pay extra attention for the rest of the day? Can you do that?”
Lillian nodded enthusiastically, sniffling again. “All right.”
Mrs. Walton beamed at her. “Now hurry along, you don’t want to run out of time.”
Lillian plopped down into her seat, pulling the cookies from her backpack. She bit one in half, eager to scarf them down. The chocolate smeared across her lips, and she licked her fingers. Crumbs covered her shirt.
As she chewed, a rumble ran through the classroom. Mrs. Walton steadied herself against the whiteboard, smearing the words with her hand. The class fell silent as the children stopped eating.
The walls shuddered again, this time hard enough that books toppled off the shelves, pencils rolled off desks, and framed posters fell to the ground and shattered. Lillian jumped up from her seat. Her heart raced as the vibrations bounced her cookies off her desk and onto the floor. Around her, a couple of the children screamed, and some began to cry.
“It’s all right.” Mrs. Walton had to shout to be heard. “It’s all right, children. Go to the supply closet. Just like we practiced.”
A few children darted for the door, throwing themselves into the small closest and hiding in the corners. Mrs. Walton ushered others as she moved along, gently pushing them forward as fast as she could. “Come on, children. Hurry now.”
A bright flash from the window stopped Lillian in her tracks. Outside, the sky rippled like water. The fluffy white clouds blurred, and the sun became a bright blob. The blue sky danced like the current on a river. Rooted in place, her hands trembled as she tried to take it all in.
The ground shifted, throwing Lillian forward. Her knees slammed into the tiles bringing tears to her eyes. A crack rang through the room as a bucket of crayons fell off its shelf and spilled across the ground. She quickly scrambled up and spun toward the supply closest.
A shimmering curtain stood between her and the closet. The shimmer surged and slowed, showing glimpses of the classroom beyond before distorting it again. Taking a few tentative steps forward, Lillian reached a hand towards the shimmer.
“No!” Lillian froze at Mrs. Walton’s cry. “Don’t touch it!”
“But, b-b-but…” A sob caught in her throat. She wanted to be with her teacher and classmates. She didn’t want to be alone.
Mrs. Walton leaped out of the closet. The shimmer slowed. Mrs. Walton’s eyes were wide as she rushed forward. Her gaze traveled over the shimmer. She reached out a hand as if she would touch it before snatching it back at the last second.
“Don’t touch it, honey. I-I-I don’t know…” She tugged at her shirt as she looked over the shimmer again.
Her chest heaved as she tried to figure out how to get to her lost student.
The ground shook violently, throwing them both to the ground. A bookcase toppled over, cracking in half as it hit a desk. Lillian let out a high-pitched scream.
“It’s okay, honey.” Mrs. Walton reached for the shimmer again, growing more desperate by the second. “It’s going to be—”
Suddenly, she was gone as the shimmer roiled into an angry opaque. Lillian clamped her hands over her ears as a terrible screech drowned out all other sounds. She couldn’t hear herself screaming over the violent rending of the building. The walls and floor shook so hard she began to slide across the tiles.
Suddenly, it all stopped. Slowly, Lillian opened one eye and then the other. She raised her head from where she had curled up on the floor.
She was still in the classroom or at least part of it. The other side of the room was gone. The closet. Mrs. Walton and her classmates. It had been ripped in two. Wires hung from the ceiling. The walls had been sheared away in one clean cut. The floor before her stopped abruptly and opened onto the dirt.
In front of her spread a forest of thick trees and wild ferns. Birds lit from the canopy in fright, but they didn’t look right. They didn’t look quite like birds as they flapped away. They were too big, and they didn’t have feathers.
The ground shook again. Small rumbles compared to before. Lillian scrambled beneath one of the desks, peering out from between the legs. Her chin trembled as tears welled up in her eyes. A keening wail rose not far away, and Lillian tried to make herself smaller, hiding as the rumbling grew. Every inch of her body shook.
An Ankylosaurus plunged past the open side of the classroom. More followed as the herd stampeded past, bugling with terror. The creatures jostled one another in their fear. One lost its footing, and its feet flailed as it slid across the ground. The Ankylosaurus slammed into the wall, raining down bricks and glass. The creature’s tail swung wild as it struggled to right itself, smashing into the tiles.
The Extinction Series | Book 1 | Primordial Earth Page 3