Return To Primordial Island by Rick Poldark (namjoon book recommendations TXT) 📗

Nazimaa’s frosty death grip, Mary gasped for air, recovering.

“Are you all right?” asked Tracey.

Mary nodded, panting. “I’m…okay…How…are you?”

“I’m okay.” However, Tracey’s heart was pounding in her chest, threatening to punch its way through. Peter and Nazimaa seemed to be locked in a stalemate, each canceling out the other’s power.

“What do we do now?” asked Tracey.

“We kill this prehistoric bitch,” said Mary. Before Tracey could stop her, Mary lunged at Nazimaa, rock in-hand, swinging it at the demon’s head. However, Nazimaa cast the briefest glances her way, and Mary froze. Her body convulsed, and she dropped to the floor.

“Mary!” Tracey wanted to run over to her, but she thought better of it. It was too close to that monster, the new Death Lord.

She turned to Peter, her mind frantic, struggling to figure out how she should help. She didn’t want to lose Peter, not again, and not to this prehistoric witch. She had returned to this horrifying place to bring him back because she loved him.

Suddenly, she felt another voice inside her mind, calling to her, instructing her to help Peter. Only this time, it wasn’t Peter’s voice. It was her own. She had an idea. She unslung her pack and unzipped it…

*

Peter leaned in toward Nazimaa, and she in toward him, as they locked in a high-stakes contest of opposing powers. Both of their eyes burned in their sockets, and the blinding illumination from each of their orbs—his golden and hers an icy blue—combined to bathe the room in an ethereal green light.

Peter looked around for Tracey, but she had vanished. He saw Mary lying still on the ground at Nazimaa’s feet, and he became filled with a righteous rage. However, no matter how hard he pushed, he felt unable to budge the demon.

He caught something out of the corner of his eye, the briefest distortion in the surreal green light. It circumvented Nazimaa, passing behind her. Peter smiled as he sensed what it was—Tracey was hidden under some kind of light-bending camouflage blanket. He saw her hand reach out, visible, holding the red flare gun from the Jeep.

*

Tracey shrugged off part of her cover and held the flare gun to the back of the demon’s head. She saw Peter glance over at her, a grin creeping across his face.

Nazimaa, sensing something amiss, turned her head. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open in horror when she noticed Tracey—but it was too late.

Tracey rammed the red flare gun into the demon’s mouth and fired. Nazimaa’s mouth erupted in a bright red light. The wraith’s hands gripped her face as she broke her standoff with Peter and staggered sideways, emitting a wordless shriek that caused Tracey and the now live Simians to cover their ears in agony.

Her attack disrupted, Peter capitalized on the opportunity and doubled his efforts, digging deep for the last of whatever reserves he had left. He felt his attack against Nazimaa amplify, pushing back her wave of cold death and darkness, his own inner force threatening to overtake her. He felt the demon’s strength begin to yield under his, and he sensed her panic rising up inside her. The magnitude of his total power shook the cavern. The ground rumbled under their feet, shaking violently, but Peter kept his focus.

Nazimaa, however, staggered, losing her footing. Her power receded into her body, and the power of the life orb exploded in a bright flash of light.

*

The light-bending camouflage blanket (a la Poseidon Tech) fell from Tracey’s shoulders as she felt wave after wave of Peter’s power envelop her. She let the flare gun slip out of her hand, but she did not hear it hit the stone floor. As she embraced his energy, she felt her essence merge with his until they became one. She felt the power of the life orb as if it was in her own chest and intertwined with Peter’s will, creating a synergy. She closed her eyes and felt the room. She felt Peter and the Simian warriors. She felt Peter’s love and sacrifice, and she felt the Simians’ fear and uncertainty. She also felt her own love, loyalty, and conviction, and fed it into Peter’s power.

*

Peter’s vision was white-washed. When his rods and cones recovered, he saw Nazimaa lying on the ground, her lips split, scorched, and bloody. Mary struggled to her feet, holding her head.

Peter ran over to Tracey, his face and body sweaty from exertion. “Are you all right?”

She nodded.

They were no longer one, but the feeling of their joining remained. He had never felt closer to her before in his life, and he knew she felt the same.

“I love you,” she said, her voice strong but sweet.

They kissed each other deeply, their souls merging again. When they broke their embrace, Mary was beside them. Peter saw Nazimaa was standing again. She looked terrified, furious, and spent. Her eyes glowed, as did the death orb in her chest, and she gesticulated wildly, summoning the very worst of her dark power.

But nothing happened.

Peter turned to Tracey, astonished. “I didn’t feel anything. Did you?”

Tracey shook her head, a smile creeping across her face. “I didn’t either.”

Mary smirked. “She’s lost her power.”

Peter turned on Nazimaa. “It won’t work anymore. You’re defeated. It’s over.”

“No!” croaked Nazimaa in torment, her mouth melted. Her eyes glowed and then dimmed. “No! It can’t be! I am lord over death and darkness! Heel to!”

Tracey pulled up the corner of her mouth into a smirk. “Get over yourself.”

Peter felt new presences behind him. He whirled around to find many more live Simians behind him, awakened in the catacombs by his explosion of life energy. Males and females all looked on, totally engrossed.

The crowd began to stir, and apes started to part, making way for something. Peter saw a massive figure wade through