Extinction Agenda Read Online Free Page A

threatened to draw too much ire or shed too much blood, he was there to see it didn’t go too far. But no matter how much he tried to rein things in, they spiraled even further out of control.
    Not everything’s s’posed to be controlled , Liam reminded him, either from memory or beyond the grave.
    Perhaps that was true, but he had already given up trying to control things. Ever since he caught the scent of the First Deceiver, Randolph had known there was one last opportunity to set his new homeland back onto its proper course. Kawosa roamed free, opening geysers of the Torva’ox in his wake and imbuing his precious Half Breeds with new strengths, like a craftsman tinkering with a favorite line of toys. Kawosa had one more purpose to serve, and when that was done, there would finally be quiet.
    No more humans with their arrogant voices and filthy machines.
    No more wretches with their wild, pained cries.
    No more Mongrels tunneling and sneaking in the dark.
    No more leeches strutting and preening like spoiled children.
    Just pure, natural, blissful quiet.
    A quiet the world hadn’t known for over a thousand years.

Chapter One
    St. Louis, Missouri
    P aige stood on a highway overpass, wrapped in two T-shirts, a tactical vest, and a light jacket, all of which was all topped off by an olive drab canvas coat that came down to her knees and was tied shut with an old belt. It was just past sundown, and the wind tore across the Mississippi River to become even colder than when it had started rustling on the other side. In the distance, car horns honked and tires screeched across slippery roads that were even more poorly tended now that the salt trucks had been attacked by a large pack of Half Breeds. That alone wasn’t enough to call in the heavy artillery, but the Full Blood sighted by the scouts across the border in Cahokia, Illinois, raised all the red flags needed to bring the Skinners there.
    “How many times do I have to clean this place out?” she grumbled while checking one of the many handguns strapped beneath her arms or clipped to the mesh belt holding her coat together.
    The man lying on the shoulder of the overpass might have gone completely unnoticed by a casual observer if he hadn’t shifted on his stomach and scraped his legs against the ground. His back was covered by a thin layer of snow that blew off him like ash. He twisted around to prop himself up on his elbow so he could look up at her. “Wasn’t just you the last time, you know.”
    Paige lifted a pair of compact binoculars to her eyes and scowled through them. “Yeah, right, Cole. I also know that you and Rico spent a lot of time at strip bars or in jail. Real productive. Still beats Chicago at this time of year. Sometimes there’s barely any snow around here. Everyone used to panic at the first sign of a flake. One time,” she chuckled, “there were school closings because the forecast was for it to be cold. Wasn’t cold yet. Just forecasted to be cold. Wish it was that easy to get out of class when I was going to school.”
    “Little Paige Strobel in her pigtails and backpack. Mmmm.” Cole’s thoughts were cut short by a quick thump of Paige’s boot against his ribs. He could barely feel the blow through his two flannel shirts and T-shirt but wasn’t about to ask for a follow-up shot. Even if she’d put some real mustard behind the blow, his outermost layer would have absorbed it on its own. The long coat he wore was tailored from strips of Full Blood hide and allowed him to shrug off direct shotgun blasts. It was confiscated from him when he was taken into custody, but had recently been returned, thanks to some impressive connections in the official chain of command.
    “Look sharp,” Paige announced. “Your boy’s headed for the river.”
    Cole stretched out one arm to support the rifle that was held steady by a collapsible stand situated near the edge of the overpass, giving the smooth black barrel of the Brown Precision Tactical