The Extinction Series | Book 6 | Primordial Earth 6 Read online

  Baileigh Higgins

  Primordial Earth - Book 6

  The Extinction Series - A Prehistoric, Post-Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi Thriller

  Copyright © 2021 by Baileigh Higgins

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Baileigh Higgins asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  Baileigh Higgins has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

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  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 - Imogen

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5 - Imogen

  Chapter 6 - Kat

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8 - Brittany

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11 - Imogen

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13 - Kat

  Chapter 14 - Callum

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18 - Callum

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21 - Kat

  Epilogue - Seth

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  About the Author

  Glossary

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to Christian Bentulan for the stunning book cover design. You can check out his portfolio at http://www.coversbychristian.com. He’s an amazing artist.

  Plus, a huge thank you to Graham Rintoul for his tireless dedication to my books, his research, and his input. A big shoutout to Mike Hansen for his support and help, and to all the fans and readers out there. I truly appreciate you all!

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to a special reader, Tricia Lynn Sinnet. I hope you enjoy this story of survival, and that you enjoy many more great adventures in the future. Happy reading!

  Chapter 1 - Imogen

  Imogen stared at the map on the wall, her expression somber. Colored tacks marked the various territories around her home city, Vancouver. The bright buttons radiated outward in ever-widening circles.

  It was a system she’d created when she first joined the expeditionary team. Their primary goal was to search for other survivors and settlements. That was why she was there. With her degree in anthropology and history, she harbored a keen interest in human behavior, movement, and culture. But they were also on the lookout for resources such as minerals, empty cities, water, and more.

  The tacks marked each territory according to type: Red for danger, yellow for risky, and green for safe. Or at least, as safe as it was possible to get in the primordial world. There were also blue tacks that meant human life. Sadly, these were few and far between.

  Purple tacks designated areas rich with modern supplies such as unlooted cities, white tacks pointed to natural riches such as water and minerals, while black tacks pointed to dead zones. These zones were both devoid of life, supplies, and anything else that might be useful. Where the black and red tacks combined, they created swathes of land avoided by all.

  Currently, the area south of Kalama was empty, waiting for Jessica and her team to fill the void. The only problem was, they were four days overdue. Four days was a lifetime in the prehistoric world, and anything could’ve happened to them. All of it bad.

  Worry gnawed at Imogen’s gut while she stared at the map. She did not know where her friends were, and so far, the daily search parties had yielded nothing. They were burning through their fuel reserves at an alarming rate, but she refused to give up.

  The door to the office opened, and Alan walked in. His ruddy cheeks were flushed, and he flashed her an impatient look. “Are you still staring at that thing? It’s been days. Give it up already.”

  Imogen gritted her teeth. She wouldn’t allow Alan’s ill-humor to affect her judgment. Jessica, Lee, and Barry were still out there somewhere, alive. She knew it. “They’re not dead. I know they’re not.”

  “Yeah, right? You’re not psychic. Be honest. What are the chances they’d still be alive after all this time?” Alan asked with one eyebrow raised. Sweat poured down his temples and stained his collar. While it was a warm day, Alan ran hotter than most, and he was always sweaty no matter the weather.

  “I don’t care what their chances are,” Imogen said. “I care about them. They’re our friends. What if it was you out there?”

  “Then I’d be dead.” Alan checked the kettle on the wood-burning stove and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Nobody can survive out there for this long. You should stop the search parties before we don’t have enough fuel left to get back home.”

  “It’s not your call,” Imogen said, standing her ground.

  “Yeah, I know it’s not, but it should be,” Alan rumbled. “I’ll never understand why the powers-that-be put a little girl in charge of this operation.”

  “I’m not a little girl. I’m twenty-six,” Imogen said, immediately regretting it. She did not have to explain herself to him, and it sounded childish when she did.

  Alan laughed. “Yeah, you’re a real Methuselah just brimming with experience.”

  “The fact is, I’m in charge, whether you like it or not,” Imogen said, bristling. She’d never liked Alan, and he despised her. They tolerated each other most of the time, and he followed her orders with grumbling reluctance, but the current crisis had them at each other’s throats.

  “The only reason you got this job is because you’re the mayor’s daughter, even though you’re barely out of diapers yet,” Alan said, taking a deep swig of his coffee.

  His nails sported black crescents, stained by the oil that was ingrained into the fiber of his skin. Like Lee, he was an aviation mechanic. Unlike Lee, he never washed and always smelled of sweat and grease, an unpleasant combination.

  She wrinkled her nose when a waft of perspiration from his armpits hit her nostrils. “Good God, take a bath, would you?”

  “This is what you smell like when you work for a living,” he replied, tossing the rest of his coffee down the drain. He walked toward the exit without a backward glance. “You should try it sometime.”

  Imogen turned back to the map with a sigh of relief once he left. As much as she clashed with Alan, she also understood him. At forty-plus years, he’d spent his entire life working for a boss. His skill secured him an excellent job, especially after the Shift, and he lived a comfortable lif
e. He believed that the only work worth doing was the kind you did with your hands. He wasn’t an academic and viewed such people with suspicion. Their obsession with learning struck him as frivolous.

  Appointing her as the leader of the mission was the ultimate insult. She was both young and learned, plus she had the right connections. What Alan didn’t know was that she’d asked for the post. No, begged for it. Her mother wanted her to go into politics, or perhaps the sciences. She certainly didn’t want her only daughter gallivanting about in the wilds. But I want more than that. I need more than that.

  It was unfortunate that the current situation would likely scupper her chances of coming back for a renewed term. Her mother would use the loss of a plane and three of their best members to pull the plug and force Imogen to return home.

  “Over my dead body,” Imogen said, glaring at the board with fresh determination. Giving up was not an option. Not when it meant a lifetime of suffocation. A slow march toward death with no freedom or will to call her own. Besides, the lives of her friends were at stake, not just her own existence.

  A low drone caused her to glance through the window. Bright sunlight and clear blue skies met her gaze. It was a good day to fly. Visibility was exceptional, and she hoped the search party had found something this time. Anything.

  She watched as a Cessna-152 approached on the horizon. The small plane touched down on the tarmac, bouncing across the gravel-filled potholes until it slowed to a stop. A two-seater, the plane had a range of roughly four-hundred and seventy miles.

  The Cessna taxied toward a waiting hanger, and she spotted Allen slouching after it. He’d check the engine and refuel the plane in readiness for its next flight. It was the one thing she could count on him doing. He was good at his job, despite his other flaws.

  The hanger was small, barely large enough to accommodate their three planes: A Piper Malibu, a Cessna-172, and a Cessna-152. The Piper Malibu was missing, though. Lost along with its crew.

  Besides the hanger and runway, the only other buildings were the lookout tower and living quarters. She’d converted the tower’s ground floor into an office, a working space meant for meetings and planning. Their living quarters used to be the old offices now turned into a living space for the crew members, and a tall wire fence surrounded the property.

  As the leader of the expedition, Imogen had used her clout with her mother to ensure they lacked for nothing, including security. A team of workers repaired the buildings, fortified the windows and doors, installed solar panels, batteries, and a generator. A well pumped water into gravity-fed tanks. Their storerooms overflowed with supplies, and they had a well-equipped emergency room.

  It was too bad people like Allen didn’t appreciate her efforts, but she dismissed her thoughts for the moment. The results of the latest search were more important than her feud with the grumpy mechanic.

  Too impatient to wait, she stepped outside into the bright sunlight. With one hand shading her eyes, she watched as Casey and Ralph exited the hanger.

  Ralph detoured toward the living quarters while Casey, the pilot, made a beeline for the office. Her short hair was as white as snow, contrasting with her tanned skin. Short and slim, she was stronger than she looked and brooked no nonsense from anyone, even Allen.

  “How did it go?” Imogen asked.

  “I’m sorry, but we found nothing,” Casey said with a shake of her head. Her shoulders drooped, and her expression was somber. “I wanted to stay out longer, but the tank was running low.”

  “I was really hoping this time would be different,” Imogen said, despair weighing her down.

  “Me too.”

  Imogen whirled around and walked back into the office. “Show me where you looked. I need to mark it down and map out a new search area.”

  “Of course,” Casey said, following her into the office. She pointed at several spots on the map with swift precision, all to the south and southeast of Kalama. “We searched these cities and the surrounding areas. There are no signs of human life, and no sign of the missing plane either.”

  “What about the wilds?” Imogen asked.

  “We crossed over this chunk of land here, but most of it’s covered in water. If they crashed out there, they’re…” Casey trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

  “They’re lost. I get it,” Imogen said, knowing well what it looked like. She’d seen the vast inland seas that covered swathes of North America.

  When the Shift occurred, it not only moved half of the modern world back in time, but it also dumped the fractured pieces over the old. During the late Cretaceous Period, sea levels were at their highest, and coastlines shrank. As a result, the continents flooded, creating shallow intercontinental seas that covered large tracks of land.

  “Where are they?” Imogen said, chewing on her bottom lip. “We have to find them. We can’t give up.”

  “I know,” Casey said. “I’ll go out again as soon as the plane is ready.”

  “Thanks, but get some rest while you can,” Imogen said, noting the purple shadows that lined the other woman’s eyes.

  “You don’t look so hot yourself,” Casey said. “Are you feeling better yet?”

  “I still have a cold, but it’s easing up. A few more days and I’ll be right as rain again,” Imogen said with a reassuring smile.

  “Take care of yourself,” Casey said, preparing to leave.

  Imogen turned back to the map but froze when a thunderous roar shattered the peace. A scream followed it, and she recognized the tone in an instant. “Allen!”

  She raced toward the exit, but Casey hauled her back. “You can’t go out there unarmed.”

  Imogen stopped in her tracks, her mind racing. “You’re right.”

  She whirled toward a gun cabinet on the opposite wall and yanked a semi-automatic shotgun from the shelf. With its reduced recoil and auto-loading feature, it was the best weapon for her. The extended magazine meant she had twelve shots, enough to stop most rampaging dinosaurs in their tracks.

  Cradling the gun in her arms, Imogen raced outside. Another earsplitting roar blasted through the air, and her feet faltered. But Allen’s agonized screams spurred her onward, and she sprinted toward the noise.

  Her headlong flight took her down the runway toward the hanger, and she had to dodge the many pitfalls along the way. She leaped over a shallow ditch filled with gravel and jumped a tussock of dry brush. Her breath rasped in and out of the lungs, and her heart pounded in her chest.

  Halfway to the hanger, Ralph emerged from the living quarters. Dressed in his full gear, he bristled with guns and ammo. As Jessica’s counterpart, he was ex-navy and responsible for their security on the base and during missions.

  “Stay back,” he yelled when he spotted Imogen.

  She slowed, allowing him to take the lead.

  Ralph cut across the asphalt and disappeared behind the hanger. Bursts of gunfire reached her ears, and she swallowed hard on the knot in her throat. “Ralph! Allen!”

  No one answered.

  The only sound was the occasional firing from Ralph’s weapon and Allen’s cries for help.

  In the meantime, Casey caught up to her, panting and heaving for breath. She carried a rifle, and her expression was determined. “Are we going in?”

  Imogen nodded. “Follow me.”

  As their leader, she couldn’t let them down. Their wellbeing was her responsibility, her priority, and she’d be damned if she let a wild beast eat her team alive. Not even Allen.

  She rounded the corner of the building with Casey close on her heels. Her gaze jumped to their attacker, and her blood turned to ice in her veins. It was her worst nightmare come true. A Spinosaurus.

  Imogen faltered, and her knees turned to jelly at the sight of the ferocious beast. She’d never seen one in actual life before. Larger than a T-Rex, the pictures didn’t do it justice. The creature resembled a crocodile with its long jaws filled with jagged teeth. Rough, scaly skin covered most of its body i
n a deep mossy green. Algae clung to it in patches, and it looked like it had crawled from the primordial ooze. An ancient horror spat up from the bowels of the earth.

  Allen lay on the ground, both hands held up to shield his face in a gesture both instinctive and futile. He spotted Imogen and reached out to her with a pleading gesture. “Help me, please!”

  Ralph hovered above him, firing short bursts of rounds at the Spinosaurus. The dinosaur reared back when the bullets found their target. Blood streamed from its hide and spattered onto the ground in crimson globs. With an earth-shattering roar, the creature retreated several steps. Its tail swept across the asphalt, and its shoulders hunched when another hail of shots punched into its flesh.

  Emboldened by his apparent success, Ralph moved forward and continued his assault. He pressed his rifle to his shoulder and gazed through the scope at the wounded beast before him. A triumphant grin twisted his lips, and his movements were confident. Too confident.

  Imogen watched it all happen as if in slow motion. The Spinosaurus blinked once, its slitted pupils warning of the death and destruction to come. The colorful crest on its spine quivered, and the powerful muscles of its hindquarters bunched in readiness.

  With a single bound, the creature leaped forward. Its head snaked toward Ralph, and the fearsome jaws snapped shut around his midriff. A single shake of the neck was all it took to shear the man in two. Blood misted the air in a red haze, and the two halves fell to the ground with a thud.

  “Oh, my God. Ralph!” Imogen cried, bile rushing up her throat.

  She couldn’t believe that Ralph was dead. Her brain refused to reconcile the torn remnants of flesh with the man she once knew. Alive and energetic, he’d always appeared so strong and vital. Indestructible, even.

  The Spinosaurus shook its head and sniffed at Ralph’s mangled torso. With a snort, it abandoned the gruesome remains and focused on its next victim. Allen lay prone on the ground, his leg shredded to ribbons. Unable to run, he could only wait for his fate.

  “No,” Imogen screamed, rage infusing her body. She raised the shotgun to her shoulder and fired off a couple of rounds. The distance was too great for it to cause any actual damage, however.