The Extinction Series | Book 6 | Primordial Earth 6

tower for that.”
Casey took the seat opposite her, and they settled down to the serious business of eating. Once they’d finished their breakfast, Imogen washed the dishes while Casey wiped down the counter.
Bright morning light streamed through the window above the washbasin, and a chill breeze tugged at the curtains. It looked like another cloudless day, the kind Imogen usually enjoyed. Instead, she felt nothing but dread at the thought of what awaited them outside.
With the last dish dried and packed away, she wiped her hands on her pants. Her shotgun stood in the corner, and she picked it up and reloaded the magazine. Casey followed her example, and they headed toward the front exit.
Imogen lifted the bar from its brackets with a grunt of effort and cracked open the door. She stuck her head through the opening and looked around. “Err, it seems clear enough.”
“Seems? You’d better be damn sure,” Casey said in an acerbic tone of voice.
“The only way to be sure is by getting up into the tower,” Imogen said, eyeing the distance between them and it. She stepped outside and closed the door behind them. For a moment, she hesitated. “I think we should make a run for it.”
“I’m right behind you.”
“Ready?” Imogen tensed her muscles.
“Ready,” Casey affirmed.
“Go,” Imogen cried, sprinting toward the tower.
It wasn’t far, but it felt like a hundred miles to Imogen. The entire way, her skin prickled in expectation of an attack. Her head swiveled around on her neck, and her heart banged inside her chest like a drum.
“Almost there,” Casey cried, her breathing harsh to the ears.
Imogen grunted in answer, saving her oxygen for more important tasks. At last, they reached the office and ducked inside. She’d left the door open the day before, and everything was still as she’d left it.
Imogen cast a regretful look at the map on the wall. She’d take it with her when they left, but the mission was over. In time, her mother would select a new team led by a new leader, one that wouldn’t include her. My adventures are done. This is it for me.
The thought was enough to make her want to tear at her hair and scream at the heavens. She didn’t want to moulder away in some sterile laboratory, or lecture to students in a dusty library. Even less did she want to shake hands and grease palms while posing for pictures—the life of a politician. Yet, she knew that was what the future held in store for her, and there was nothing she could about it.
Casey knew none of this and barreled toward the stairs. Imogen followed her up the creaky steps and into the control room. It was dark inside. Dark and dusty. Monitors and control boards lined the walls, silent for over twenty years now. The tower was nothing but an ancient relic from a future Imogen could hardly remember. Still, she found it fascinating, and it provided an excellent look-out point.
She moved toward the bank of windows on the other side, the glass free from dirt and grime. They took turns washing it, keeping it clean for their use as a watchtower. That and stargazing on clear nights.
Imogen raised her binoculars to her eyes and searched the grounds. She started close to home, studying the area around the hanger, tower, and living quarters with close attention. Then she panned out, sweeping the runway and its surroundings all the way to the fence.
It was empty, with no signs of the Spinosaurus. It was pretty obvious where the creature had broken through, though. The wire gaped open, and the support beams sagged to the ground. From there, an open field led toward a rocky ridge and a line of scraggly trees. Beyond that lay the river, and she guessed the wounded beast had returned to its familiar habitat.
Finally, she lowered the binoculars. “It’s gone.”
“Are you sure?” Casey asked with more than a hint of nervousness.
“I’m sure. It’s badly injured, and it would seek a familiar place to lick its wounds and recover. We won’t see it again. Not us, in any case,” Imogen said.
Casey breathed out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know.”
“Yeah, but there’s a hole in the fence and two dead bodies next to the hanger,” Imogen said. “I’m surprised we haven’t seen scavengers already.”
“Maybe they came during the night,” Casey suggested.
“Maybe, but we’d better remain on our guard,” Imogen said.
“What’s next?”
“Now we dig. We have two people to bury,” Imogen said. “Do you know where the shovels are?”
“In the hanger,” Casey said, and a feeling of horror pervaded the room.
“I guess we have no choice but to look,” Imogen said.
“Uh-huh. Like ripping off a bandaid.”
It turned out Casey was right. Scavengers, probably the winged type, had ravaged the bodies of Ralph and Allen. Little remained and digging the grave required less effort than they had expected.
They took turns digging a hole in the soft earth next to the well. One wielded the shovel while the other stood guard. They’d blocked the opening in the fence with an old Jeep, but the threat of more creatures looking for a feast remained.
Next, they gathered up Ralph and Allen’s remains, wrapping them up in clean sheets. They buried the two men next to each other and built a grave marker using a wooden post and a hot poker. It was crude but better than nothing.
Afterward, Imogen lingered next to the graves, uncertain what to say. She stared at her blistered palms and marveled at how fragile the flesh was, and how quickly life could end. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Do you want to say something, Casey? A prayer, perhaps? I’m not… I’ve never… I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, I might have something buried in the back of my mind,” Casey said, folding her hands together.
Imogen mimicked the gesture and lowered her head. After a few seconds of silence, the soft intonation of Casey’s voice filled the air as she recited an old prayer.
Eternal rest grant