“I…I don’t know. Why would they do such an awful thing?” Olivia asked, pacing up and down.
“I don’t know why. What I do know is that I’m innocent, and so is Seth,” Rogue replied.
“Of course, you are. You’re my daughter, and I believe you,” Olivia said. “It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“Are you sure it wasn’t an accident?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Rogue answered. Disappointment formed a solid rock in her heart. Even she’s turned against me.
“I simply can’t believe they’d endanger the entire community out of petty spite,” Olivia said. “Brittany’s mother could die. Jamie could die.” Fresh tears poured down her cheeks, and her shoulders began to shake.
Rogue looked away. Her mother’s pain was too much to handle at the moment. “Forget it, Mom. It doesn’t matter.”
But of course, it mattered. It hurt too. More than Rogue could’ve believed possible. My own mother doesn’t believe me. Do I even want to stay here anymore? Does Seth?
“What are you going to do?” Olivia asked. “Please, don’t leave. I don’t think I could stand that. I just got you back.”
“I don’t know, Mom. Nobody wants me here, least of all Ric,” Rogue replied. “And cage duty? So everyone, including Brittany, can laugh at me? I don’t think so.”
“Screw him, and screw them. You came here for a reason, right?” Seth said. “You came here for Prime.”
“Right,” Rogue agreed.
“Has that changed?”
“No, it hasn’t,” Rogue said.
“Then you should stay until you’ve had a chance to speak to the council. After that, it’s put to you.”
“You’re right, of course,” Rogue said, relieved to find the decision made. “But what about you? Are you staying or leaving?”
“I’ll stay,” Seth said.
“Thank you,” Rogue said, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
He stood up. “But for now, I think it’s time I said goodnight. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”
“He’s right,” Olivia said. “Why don’t you get some sleep? You look like you could use the rest.”
Rogue shifted in her chair. Her bruised hip twinged, and she knew they were both right. “Alright. See you tomorrow, Seth.”
“Tomorrow,” Seth agreed.
He reached out to squeeze her hand, and for a moment, their fingers intertwined. The knowledge that she wasn’t alone washed over her like a warm breeze. At least, someone had her back even if nobody else did.
Chapter 10 - Moran
Moran hunched behind a crumbling wall, her body hidden in thick shadow. She lifted her head to look over the edge, standing on tiptoe to survey their target: The storage facility holding the latest harvest.
Six guards patrolled the area, just like Steven had said there would be. Her sharp eyes followed the nearest, and she noted the way he dragged his feet. It was an hour to midnight, an hour before their shift ended, and the guards were tired, just like she’d predicted.
A piece of mortar crumbled beneath her boot when her weight shifted. The sound echoed through the silence, loud to her sensitive ears. For a second, the blood ran cold in her veins. But the guards didn’t notice, and she heaved a sigh of relief when they didn’t react. That was close.
Behind her waited Bruce and his team, twenty strong. Each carried a weapon and a backpack, their silhouettes bathed in silver by the moon above. They were ready to move at a moment’s notice. All she needed to do was give the signal.
Suddenly, a piercing wail cut through the air. The shivering notes vibrated through her skull and awoke a primal fear: The fear of attack by an apex predator. The kind that fought and killed with claw and tooth.
Moran forced herself to remain still, to ignore the urge to run and hide from the siren’s peal. She raised a calming hand to Bruce and whispered. “Get ready to move. It’s all part of the plan.”
Bruce nodded, the white of his eyes stark against his darkened skin. Like her, he’d rubbed ashes onto his face and wore black clothing. Camouflage. They couldn’t afford to be seen by anyone. Or even worse, caught. That would mean the end of the Rebel Faction.
“We’re ready,” he replied in a low voice.
Up ahead, the guards scrambled in a sudden panic. They milled about for a few seconds before the squad leader directed them to the wall. The siren could not be ignored. It meant that a large predator was attacking the city, the kind that brought death and destruction. Everything else paled in comparison, even the harvest.
The moment they left their posts, Moran gave the command. “Move out.”
In single file, they ran toward the building. Their boots tramped across the rough stones that formed the road, and their empty backpacks flapped on their shoulders. The storage facility was neither large nor imposing. It was just a simple square formed from rough bricks and concrete. A temporary holding place until distribution could take place.
Flaming torches lit the area with golden light. They flickered in the breeze, forming weird shapes against the walls. The wooden doors were sturdy, and the lock fashioned of solid iron. Bruce examined the lock before calling on one of his team. “Bear, this looks like a job for you.”
Bear stepped forward. At six feet eight inches tall, he towered above everyone else. His arms and shoulders bulged with muscle, and his legs looked like tree trunks. He stared at the lock and grinned. “Make room.”
Moran stepped aside and watched with grim fascination as Bear lifted his weapon of choice: A hammer that would’ve made the god of thunder himself jealous. I doubt even Thor could lift that monstrosity.
With an animal grunt, Bear swung the hammer. It whistled through the air, driven by every ounce of strength he possessed. The massive head connected with the lock in a shower of sparks. Metal debris exploded outward, and Moran gasped as a shard grazed her cheek. Hot blood ran from the cut, dripping onto her collar.
Bruce cried out with alarm. “Are you okay?”
Moran nodded, one hand pressed to the wound. “I’m fine, it’s just a scratch. What about the door?”
Bruce grinned. “Bear never fails. It’s open season.”
Moran returned his smile. “Then we’d better get moving. The alarm won’t sound forever, and the Watch will realize soon enough, it’s fake.”
“I don’t know how you managed to arrange it, but it was genius,” Bruce said. “Not only did it draw away the guards, but it will cover any noise we make.”
“Maybe, but not for long. We’d better hurry.” Moran pulled two hatchets from her belt. Razor-sharp and lightweight, they were the perfect weapons for her.
“Let’s go,” Bruce shouted, waving his men forward.
They stormed inside the storeroom, pausing only to grab a couple of lit torches from the sconces. Moran brought up the rear, and they spread outward in a rough circle. She searched for the pallets of fruit and vegetables they’d come to steal. They needed that food, and so did the poor that relied on the Rebels. Those that had neither the jobs nor the skills to feed themselves. The forgotten, as Moran called them.
But there was no food.
No harvest.
Only cold steel and the fierce eyes of strangers out to kill.
Moran stood rooted to the floor, her worst fears realized. They were trapped, surrounded by a wall of death. She counted at least fifty guards, and each held a spear or a crossbow pointed straight at Moran and her people.
A tall figure stepped into the light of a nearby torch. His eyes remained in shadow, but his triumphant sneer was plain to see. General Sikes. “Drop your weapons.”
“Or what?” Moran asked.
“Or you die,” General Sikes replied.
“Perhaps, but we’d take a lot of you with us,” she said.
General Sikes shrugged. “Make my day.”
“Death doesn’t have to be the only option,” Moran said, attempting to reason with the General even though she knew
it was futile. I have to try. For Bruce. For Bear. For everyone.
“It is for you unless you surrender.”
“It doesn’t have to be this way. Surely, we can come to some kind of agreement,” Moran said, her voice steady despite the terror that leached into her muscles.
You have nothing to bargain with, woman. You’re outmanned and outgunned. Can’t you see that?” General Sikes said.
Moran swallowed, her gaze flickering from Bruce to her team. Men and women who were loyal to the cause. They were her responsibility, and she couldn’t let them die because of her. “Let these people go, and I’ll surrender. There’s no need for bloodshed.”
The General laughed. “Why would I do that when I’ve got all of you? You’re trapped like rats in a cage.”
“Please, they were only following my commands. I’m the one you want,” Moran said.
Bruce shook his head. “No, don’t you dare.”
The General’s eyes narrowed. “You’re their leader, I take it? The infamous Moran.”
“I am,” Moran said, lifting her chin in a gesture of defiance.
“Well, Moran. Either you drop your weapons and surrender, or you die,” General Sikes said. “All of you.”
Moran closed her eyes. It was over. She knew it. Whether they fought or not, they were doomed. It would either happen here or in a prison where the walls would echo with their screams. “Bruce?”
Their eyes locked, and a sense of knowing passed between them. Bruce nodded, the gesture so slight only she saw it. We fight.
Moran tightened her hold on the two hatchets, her muscles tensed in readiness. “General Sikes, I accept your terms.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You surrender?”
“I do,” Moran said, stepping forward.
General Sikes frowned. “What about your men?”
“They as well. I ask only that you treat them with kindness and mercy,” Moran asked, taking another step.
“We’ll see,” the General replied. “Now, drop your weapons. I won’t ask again.”
“Of course,” Moran said, her lips curving into a disarming smile.
General Sikes nodded at the man next to him. “Prepare to take them into custody.”
“Yes, Sir,” the guard replied, raising one hand to salute.
For a brief moment, they were unprepared.
Moran lunged forward, her teeth bared in a vicious snarl. Her hatchets whistled through the air, the blades gleaming in the firelight. She cut down the two guards closest to her, and their faces dissolved into a mist of crimson. “Attack!”
Bruce took three quick steps to the side. His sword flashed, and a severed head sailed through the air. Bear swung his hammer, and three men went flying. He crushed the skull of another, the bone bursting inward like the shell of an egg.
Moran threw herself at the General with a wild yell, but he was too far away. With a flick of his hand, he gave the command. “Fire!”
A rain of crossbow bolts cut through the Rebel ranks. One tugged at Moran’s leg, cutting through the fabric while another grazed her arm. Ignoring the missiles, she continued to hack and slash at anything within reach. Like a whirling dervish, she sowed death to the Watch’s ranks, shadowed by the ever-faithful Bruce.
A guard wielding a spear went down with a gurgle, her ax lodged in his throat. Another took a stab at her, missing by a hair’s breadth. Bruce cut him down, but his blade stuck in the man’s sternum. He yanked a knife from his belt and tackled two more of the enemy. They went down in a tangle of limbs.
“Bruce,” Moran yelled, frantic to save him.
Then came the second wave of bolts. The deadly missiles thudded into flesh and bone. One of the rebels bumped into her, his mouth working as blood gushed from his lips. “I don’t want to die.”
“I’m sorry,” Moran whispered as he sagged to the floor. She recognized him as one of their newer recruits. Only nineteen years of age, he had a mother and sister who depended on him. They’d have no one to look after them now.
She looked around the room, horrified to see that most of the rebels were dead. Feathered shafts stuck into the air, harbingers of death. Even Bear was down, beaten to the ground by five of the Watch. This is crazy. This has to stop.
“Bruce,” she yelled, whirling around.
“Over here,” he replied, sticking up a bloodied arm.
She grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet. “Bruce, this has to stop. We have to surrender. I can’t let you die for me.”
“It’s too late, Moran. You know that,” he replied. “Besides, I can think of nothing better than dying for you.”
Even as he spoke, the General bellowed. “Fire!”
Bruce grabbed Moran and crushed her to his chest, his back turned toward the guards. Their eyes locked, and she saw the moment he got hit. His breath hitched, and his eyes widened.
“No,” she cried, her heart tearing in two.
Bruce smiled, his teeth stained with crimson. “It’s alright. At least, I got to hold you once.”
“I… I didn’t know,” Moran said.
“Yes, you did. You knew,” he said with a cough.
Moran realized he was right. She’d always known there was something between them. Something unspoken. She’d just never wanted to admit it until now.
Bruce sagged to the floor, and she went with him. All the fight left her limbs as she faced his certain death. Why did it have to end like this?
“Don’t go,” she pleaded.
“It’s okay. We went down swinging.” Bruce’s head lolled back on his shoulders, and his eyes drifted shut.
“No, you can’t die,” Moran yelled, shaking him like a rag doll. “I won’t le—”
A blow to the head cut her off mid-sentence. The last thing she remembered was falling to the floor next to Bruce, their bodies tangled together. You’re right, Bruce. At least, we got to go down swinging.
Chapter 11
As promised, Rogue reported for cage duty on the day after the disastrous egg hunt. She followed the directions Olivia gave her and walked along a winding path to where the farm animals were being kept. In the old days, it used to be a petting zoo for kids. Now, it had been repurposed to raise those animals rescued from nearby farms before they became dino food.
According to Olivia, there were chickens, geese, rabbits, cows, horses, and sheep. Although Rogue loathed the idea of being punished for a crime she didn’t commit, she did look forward to seeing the animals up close.
The sun was barely up, its golden globe peeking over the treetops on the horizon. Dewdrops sparkled on the berry bushes like a thousand tiny stars, and rainbow-colored dragonflies whizzed by on gossamer wings.
It would’ve been a lovely day if it wasn’t for the rock inside her chest. She was still mad at her mother for not believing her side of the story. Even worse, Olivia tacitly approved of Ric’s sentence. Her parting words to Rogue still rang in her head: I know you think this is unfair, Lillian, but it’s for the best, I promise.
Best for who? The Exiles, that was who. It would give them a sense of justice. The satisfaction that the two Primes were being punished for their transgressions. In the meantime, the real perpetrators got off scot-free.
But, she had little choice in the matter. It was either that or get kicked out of the Zoo. While she might be angry with her mother, she didn’t want to lose Olivia either. Nor did she want to give up on Prime’s citizens and Moran. They needed saving, and the council was her only shot. You can do this, Rogue. Swallow your pride and do what Ric wants. Show these Exiles what you’re made of.
Rogue spotted the waiting Seth and Ric ahead and jogged toward them. She wore an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt her mother had loaned her, coupled with battered trainers. In a backpack, she carried a water bottle, a lunch box, and her trusty machete. She didn’t dare go anywhere without it. Especially when everyone and their uncle hated her guts. So much for starting a new life here.
“You’re late,” Ric growled, ey
eing her with disapproval.
“You can be glad I’m here at all,” Rogue replied, her voice tart.
“Just listen closely, please,” Ric said, pointing at a wooden shed. “In there is everything you need to complete your tasks: Shovels, wheelbarrows, buckets, hay, and feed.” He handed the keys to Seth. “Make sure it’s all back in place and locked up when you’re finished. If anything goes missing, it’ll be on your heads.”
“And what exactly are we supposed to do?” Rogue asked.
“You can start with the chicken coop. Clean out the crap, feed the birds, give them fresh water and hay for their nests.”
“Fine,” Rogue grumbled. “Where do we get the water?”
“At the well,” Ric said, pointing to a circular stone wall with a wooden lid and a hand pump. “When you’re done with the chickens, you can look after the geese. Be sure to give their pond a proper clean.”
“Is that all?” Rogue asked, acid dripping from every word.
“No, that’s not all. But it will keep you busy for a while, and I’ll check in on you later,” Ric answered, unperturbed.
“Yay, sounds like fun,” Rogue mumbled under her breath.
“And don’t screw this up. The last thing we need is more trouble.” With those parting words, Ric turned his back and strode away.
Rogue glared after him. “Asshole.”
“Come on,” Seth coaxed. “Let’s just get this over with.”
They stashed their backpacks and unlocked the shed. Inside were rows of feed bins, each marked according to type. Hay bales filled the far corner, and gleaming equipment lined one wall. There wasn’t a speck of dust in sight.
Rogue reached for the chicken feed while Seth grabbed a shovel and a wheelbarrow. Together, they started their chores for the day.
While it was dirty work, Rogue didn’t mind it that much. In fact, she found the chickens comforting. The plump birds clucked around her feet, fluffing their feathers and pecking at seeds. An enormously fat one even allowed her to stroke its head.
The Extinction Series | Book 2 | Primordial Earth Page 6