FERAL
VESPER BROOKS
PRIMAL PUBLISHING
Copyright © 2021 by Vesper Brooks
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, organizations, or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-7366738-0-5
Library of Congress Control Number: 2021902754
Primal Publishing
Pittsburg, Ca.
Cover design Copyright © 2021 Primal Publishing
Printed in the United States of America
Visit Vesper Brooks on the world wide web at: www.vesperbrooks.weebly.com
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that the book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Dedication
To my family, who competed for who died the most epic death. Also, to Kristy and Max, who formed the foundation of the Daxel fan club, judged the deaths, and patted me on the shoulder while I beat my head against a wall in search of a title. You guys rock!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
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Prologue
The people came again, with their harsh words and stiff body language. He watched them, at first in confusion, desperately wishing to please. But over the months, as they grew more and more aggressive, he found himself questioning the balance of it all. Through one of his mates, his understanding of their language expanded, and with it came a deep-seated resentment.
Radia whined as she shifted next to him, and he could sense the hunger gnawing at her just as it ate at him and Sensee. But it hit her harder with each day as the unborn lives in her also grew. For the first time ever, Daxel experienced rage at their treatment and it seethed in him with an intensity he didn’t know how to channel.
Until the handler pulled out a metal stick and slammed it hard across Radia’s shoulder when she failed to carry out the commands issued at her. It had been a defining moment, an act of aggression, an act of dominance, an act of letting them know man was in charge here, instead of the other way around.
Without thinking, he bared his teeth and a deep rumble vibrated his chest. It came with such ease, though he’d never warned a human like this before.
“Sedate him,” the voice in the wall said. The image of the man there pursed his lips in disapproval as he stared at Daxel.
Daxel met the human’s gaze and reissued the growl, raising his spines as he did so. He dared them to do something, though he didn’t quite know what. As the wires and chemicals in his brain began firing on all cylinders, his instincts screamed for aggression. For the need to bite and snarl and fend off the intruders that kept food behind thick walls where it could not be touched and spoke with growls lacing their own voices.
“If you shoot him, he’ll always associate sedation with negative actions,” said another human as the one next to her waved her hands in the air so fast he could barely track them.
“The animal is posing a threat and needs to be punished for showing aggression. I’m sure you understand my position and my desire to keep staff safe. Now, sedate him.”
The quick pierce of his flesh came from the handler who struck Radia earlier. He held a metal object in his hand, the same one used when the kind doctor prodded and poked them.
Immediately, a wave of exhaustion passed through Daxel, and he blinked, trying to fight off the effects. If he fell, no one could protect Sensee and Radia. No one would. Only he cared for them and understood their struggles.
A renewed surge of rage washed over him, combatting the effects of the sedate. All the senses in his body focused on one thing, and one thing only—the handler who hurt him and hit Radia. He lunged forward, closing the distance quickly as his teeth sank into flesh. Soft flesh. Flesh that couldn’t withstand the power behind his jaws.
The handler issued a mangled scream and behind him, Sensee whined at the sound. Whether it hurt her sensitive ears or she disliked Daxel’s actions, he couldn’t tell, so he released the human. The tang of blood coated his tongue, urging him to do more. To shred and snap bones and piss on the corpse when all was said and done.
Around him, the other handlers hurried forward to their fallen companion, barking words and pulling the wounded back to his feet. Daxel backed up, spines erect in a full warning display. But the few that paid attention to him immediately jerked their focus away to place it on the injured man as he began to shake and a strangled, gagging noise filled the room.
Within seconds, the man slumped, and the stench of death emanated from his form. The other handlers stepped back, eyes wide, and a tantalizing scent wafted from their bodies. A sweet, sickly smell.
Fear.
That was the moment Daxel realized these creatures that found joy in inflicting pain and starvation and barking out commands actually fell in a completely different category from himself and his mates. In one sheer act, humans had just suddenly been bumped a notch down on the food chain. And it was in that sudden moment, that Daxel came to the firm understanding of just where he stood.
Humans, for all their bluff, actually served as prey.
Chapter One
The stubs of dry grass rasped against my stomach, leaving a thousand tiny prickles and scratches that would itch like a bitch in a few hours. I filed that away for later, knowing I’d need to be sure I didn’t end up with splinters from the stalks. If itching sucked, an infected hair-wide splinter sucked a thousand times more. A sound caught my attention, and I shifted my binoculars back into position.
There you are, Gigi. Where have you been…
The sharp, chirpy chatter of more painted dogs filled the air as the rest of the pack jogged up to the female. Two yearling females, new to the pack since Gigi’s disappearance roughly a month ago, hung back, watching the rest embrace the return of their lost member. I’d stayed close to the pack these past several nights. My study of these wonderful creatures ended next week, and it could well be another three years before I received approval from the government to continue my studies. The more hands-on time I could get documenting their communications and social dynamics, the better.
The soft
static in my earpiece appeared seconds before the voice of Dominic, my liaison with the preserve, infiltrated the moment. “Doctor Poole, a man wishes to speak with you on the phone.”
“Take a message,” I murmured softly so as not to disturb the canines several feet away from my position. “The dominant female just reappeared.”
“He says it is urgent. I have told him of your limited time left on the reserve, and he has guaranteed you will have six months of uninterrupted time here should you come take on his project.”
Shock rippled through my system at his words. Who could have that kind of clout? The Tanzanian Ministry of Natural Resources and Tourism seldomly handed out extensive tenures in the reserve, and persuading them to allow study at all often came to clout and tenacity—two things I wielded with precision. I often found humans far more dangerous than the predators I spent my life studying. At least the canids operated within understandable parameters.
“Dominic, who the fuck is this person?” I asked as I glanced over my shoulder to the Jeep and my escort, Kassim, who worked as a warden on the preserve. He busied himself with setting up our gear for a nighttime video shoot.
Hesitation followed my question. I couldn’t tell if Dominic wanted to sit the radio down as he asked the caller, or if he worried over telling me. Finally, the deep, almost musical tones of his voice washed over me again. “His name is Roger Carborton.”
“Carborton? As in CGC?” I slowly raised to a stand, brushing the debris off my shirt and pants. What would a multi-billionaire like him who specialized in genetics need from a specialist in canine zoology like me? At least my skepticism over his ability to secure a six-month stay here evaporated.
“You are coming?” Dominic asked.
A small laugh escaped me as I took one last look at my missed opportunity to study the language and procedures of reunion among African wild dogs. They still swarmed around each other, chirping merrily and as unthreatened by my presence as a bird in the sky.
“Dominic, a word of advice.”
“Yes, Doctor?”
“When men like Mister Carborton say jump, you ask how high, then double check the distance before you do as he commands.” I tried and failed to keep the snark from my voice. Of course I’d go find out what he wanted. Chances were I couldn’t help with whatever he needed, and I’d be back before full dark set in, giving me at least a few more hours of observation with the pack.
His rich laugh echoed at my words. “I shall tell him you are on your way.”
“See you in ten.” I removed my earpiece that connected to the walkie talkie I carried in my pocket.
Kassim lifted his head at my approach. “Have the dogs gone?”
“No, but we are. Important phone call at headquarters. How fast can we load up?” I asked as I set to work breaking down the tripod.
His lips quirked as they always did when I pitched in a hand doing what others considered grunt work. “With your help, no time,” he answered.
“Excellent. If the call ends up being nothing, are you still okay with coming back and doing night shooting?” I asked, using my chin to indicate the video camera he held.
“Of course, Doctor. I slept the day away to prepare.”
“Me too.”
We cracked up, enjoying the camaraderie of the moment. He knew just as much as I did that we both spent the day busting our asses at the reserve. Him—managing tours, supervising feedings of animals they rehabilitated for release, and reporting to the reserve director. Meanwhile, I’d compiled files and listened to audio clips I’d taken over and over, looking for variances in calls or patterns so I could distinguish the painted dogs’ language.
Our gear, settled back in cases and packed in the backseat of the Jeep, took mere minutes to break down. Fortunately, Kassim hadn’t managed to get very far in setup to begin with. The bumpy ride banged us around as we headed back to headquarters in the dying light. The vivid oranges and pinks splashing across the horizon evoked a sense of awe, as it usually did. Even as a child, I’d often found myself enamored by the colors entwined with clouds, creating an art exhibit that never repeated itself exactly.
Once we pulled into the compound proper, I leapt from the vehicle before my driver made a full stop. A nervous energy coursed through my muscles, prodding me to meet this uncertainty head on. I never liked the mystery that people swathed themselves in. Especially important people. People like Richard Carborton, with the world at his fingers and a company striving for what I equated to a God complex.
Dominic stood from his desk as I entered and pointed at the phone. “I can trans—”
“This is Doctor Poole speaking,” I said into the receiver while I raised a brow at my liaison. He smirked, unperturbed by my blunt action.
“Miss Poole, this is—”
“Doctor, actually. Doctor Poole,” I interrupted, hairs raising at the back of my neck due to the blatant disregard of my title. I would not be degraded to gender by someone who needed something from me so badly they tracked me down to the ass-end of Africa. “Now, what can I do for you?”
The voice on the other end of the line stumbled for a moment, and a sense of victory sliced through me. Good. I’d thrown him off his game. If he expected anything from me, we needed to be on a level playing field. Peers. No bullshit, regardless of his net worth at any given moment towering over mine, even combining all my grants with my income.
“Yes, well, Doctor… My facilities require your specific knowledge set. You’ve come to me highly recommended for the issue we are facing,” he said. The sound of his voice matched the few interviews I’d watched, and I suffered no doubt I truly spoke with the Mr. Carborton.
“Who recommended me?” I asked, flipping through names of colleagues in my head. Surely any of them would have jumped at such an opportunity rather than pass it off to me. Unless the man offered lab rat work beneath my degree. Though, the chance to spend an additional six months here beat my pride, hands down.
Again, he faltered, and I wondered at what could shake such a man. On TV, he always spoke with an air of confidence and superiority. Though his degree level matched the level of mine, he backed his with extensive business sense. Wealth begets wealth and all that. However, as I listened to him weigh his words, that little sense in the back of my head tingled. The one that made me duck once when a lioness attempted to pounce me from behind, saving my life. The same one that made me press onward with my insistence that domestic felines and canines could, in fact, speak a common enough language with each other to communicate at least the basics, however crude compared to their communications with their own species—which won me an award when a team of like-minded scientists reached out to compile data with me and prove my theory.
“Jaxx.” He uttered the name with no rank and no affiliation, but my skin still broke out in goosebumps at the single word.
If Jaxx recommended me, it meant she was in on whatever this guy played with now. And if she was in on it, it meant they had their hands on living creatures. Creatures quite probably suffering from so-called enhancements. Creatures big enough that a world-renowned safety consultant for animal enclosures needed to be sought for advice. That meant we certainly weren’t dealing with lab rats and bunnies.
“What kind of situation are we talking about?” I kept at my interrogation despite already making the decision to go.
“I prefer to discuss this once you are under contract. If you accept, you’ll be required to sign a non-disclosure agreement. A chopper will be there to pick you up within the next hour.” Mr. Carborton recovered his verbal balance quickly; I had to give him that.
“I’m in Selous Game Reserve, almost four hours from the nearest airport,” I protested.
His soft sigh stopped me in my tracks. “I already have a chopper in route to the reserve airstrip. So, you see, there is nothing to worry about.”
I glared at a random stack of papers on Dominic’s desk over this man’s audacity. “And just how did you know I would take t
he job?”
“Because Jaxx said you would if I told you she’s already here waiting for your assistance.”
Damn. He’s got me there.
“I’ll come, but have your lawyer get the paperwork ready with your promise to ensure a six month study here, immediately following my release from your consultation needs. Otherwise, I’m not setting foot off this reserve,” I shot back.
“Deal. But Doctor Poole, once you get here, you might find yourself inclined to stay on full time.” He hung up, getting in the last word with a smugness that irritated the shit out of me.
“Arrogant prick,” I muttered as I placed the receiver back in the cradle.
Dominic looked up at me, his dark eyes laughing despite the straight face he maintained. “Shall I have someone drive you to the reserves’ airstrip?” he asked.
“Yes, but don’t get too comfortable in my absence. I’ll be back to bust all your balls again before you know it.”
At this, his face cracked into a wide smile as Kassim laughed from the doorway. “Strangely, I think we shall all look forward to your return,” he responded.
I nodded and left to pack, my thoughts already busy at work trying to dissect and piece together what I might fly into. I never expected there would come a time I might work for the leading genetics company in the world, and I certainly didn’t relish the thought. Yet a part of me—the basic section of my brain that thrived in solving mysteries—panted with excitement over the enigma that Mr. Carborton might present me with.
Or did I pant over the idea of seeing Jaxx again? I stopped to take a moment to mull that thought over. Years ago, Jasmyne and I worked together when a zoo decided to renovate. They needed my input on enrichment in the enclosure. Jasmyne’s forte lay in constructing exhibits so guests could see the wolves at all times, while eradicating all risks of people falling into the enclosure. A year previous, several zoos suffered lawsuits filed after adults flung themselves into exhibits or lost their grip on children precariously perched on rails.
What followed became the greatest whirlwind romance of my life. To this day, if we found ourselves in the same area, we met up to reignite that romance—or more like scratch an itch. Our dominant personalities, however, made it clear we couldn’t stand each other in the long term.
Feral Page 1