The Extinction Series | Book 6 | Primordial Earth 6

unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
Imogen blinked away tears and shook her head in confusion. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I wasn’t that close to either of them. Does that make me a hypocrite?”
“No, sweetheart. It just means you care,” Casey said, patting her on the back. “Death is harder on the living than the dead.”
“I guess,” Imogen said with a sniff.
“Come on. We still have work to do, and there isn’t much time left,” Casey prompted.
They walked toward the hanger and surveyed the damage. It was extensive, and Imogen feared their chances of flying home were slim to none.
The Spinosaurus had rampaged through the building with murderous rage. The Cessna-172 had been reduced to a crumpled tin can. The barrels of aviation fuel were ruptured as well, crushed beneath the beast’s stampede.
Imogen stepped over the rubble, trying to avoid the puddles of gas on the floor. Equipment, pallets, and supplies lay strewn about while part of the ceiling had collapsed onto the forklift. The rest of the hanger creaked ominously whenever the stiff breeze whistled through it, and she hoped it wasn’t about to cave in on them. “What about the 152?”
Casey walked toward the Cessna-152 and inspected the wings and body. To Imogen’s immense relief, she said, “It’s fine. It’ll fly.”
“What about fuel?”
“I don’t think Allen had the chance to top up the tank. There’s enough left to get us home, though. Barely,” Casey said.
“So, we’re leaving?” Imogen asked with a mixture of despair and hope. Despair because she was abandoning Jessica and the others to their fate. Hope because, despite everything, she wanted to live. The thought of the Spinosaurus returning for round two was enough to make her sick.
“We’re leaving,” Casey confirmed. “I’ll taxi it out onto the runway and perform a few checks, but it should be good to go.”
“When do we go?” Jessica asked, deferring to the pilot’s expertise.
“In the morning. It’s getting late, and we still need to pack,” Casey said.
“Alright,” Imogen said with a brisk nod. “I’ll get my things ready.”
“Pack lightly,” Casey said. “The 152 can’t carry a lot of weight, and we don’t want to strain the fuel reserves.”
“I don’t have much. Besides, my mother will send in a clean-up crew to collect the rest,” Imogen said.
“What about Jessica, Lee, and Barry?” Casey asked.
“I’ll convince my mother to send someone to look for them. Maybe they’ll still be alive,” Imogen said.
“Yeah. Maybe,” Casey replied with little conviction.
Imogen shared her emotions. She doubted her mother would waste precious resources on three people lost in the wilds. Nor was it likely they’d be able to survive for so long on their own. But she had no other choice. The die was cast.

Chapter 6 - Kat
Kat moved through the crowded hallway on dainty feet, careful not to step on any of the patients that lined the walls. They were crammed in like sardines, lying on pallets, mattresses, blankets, and sheets. Basically, anything that she could get her hands on, even pieces of cardboard.
The sound of coughing rang in her ears, a never-ending symphony that followed her into her dreams at night, and the smell of disinfectant burned her nostrils even though she wore a mask.
“Help me, please,” an old man pleaded, reaching out to her with a frail hand.
“I’m here,” she replied, dropping to her knees on the floor. “What’s wrong?”
“I… I can’t breathe,” he said before his entire body convulsed.
Blood sprayed from his lips and stained the sheet that covered his emaciated body She felt for the pulse in his wrist, and her heart dropped. It was weak and thready, little more than a ghostly thrum beneath her fingertips. It won’t be long now.
Kat reached into her pocket and removed a silver hip flask. It used to belong to Callum, but she’d commandeered it for exactly this purpose. It was filled with a tincture made from Valerian root, a potent sedative.
“Here, take a sip of this. It will make you feel better, I promise,” she said, placing the bottle to his lips. “Do you have any family? Someone who can sit with you?”
He swallowed the bitter mix and sighed. “Th… thank you, but I’m… alone. Martha… she passed a year ago. Heart attack. We never had any kids.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kat said, squeezing his hand. The bones felt brittle beneath her touch, and his skin was as dry as paper. “Are you thirsty?”
He shook his head. “Just… tired.”
Kat watched with a deep mixture of regret, and sadness as the old man drifted into sleep. It was unlikely he would wake up again, but at least his suffering was over. There was nothing else she could offer him but an easy passing.
Finally, she stood up and continued on her way. It was hard, but she had no choice. There would be more deaths before the day was out. Deaths she could’ve prevented if she had the proper equipment and medicine.
She reached the waiting room a few minutes later and made her way to the exit. Claustrophobia had her in its grip, and she needed a couple of minutes to herself. Outside, the sun was bright, but the air held a marked chill. Yet another sign of the coming winter.
Despite the early hour, people rushed by in the streets. They walked with their heads held low and masks plastered to their faces. Gloves covered their hands, and each person kept at a healthy distance from the other. Volunteers distributed disinfectant, protective clothing, soap, and other necessities at corner stands while more cleaned public spaces and educated citizens on preventative measures.
It wasn’t working.
Or not well enough.
For all of her efforts, the situation was rapidly deteriorating into a full-scale disaster. Jessica hadn’t been joking when she stressed how infectious the disease was, or how badly it ravaged its victims.
The council, headed by Moran and Patti, had emptied