Survivors: The Complete Trilogy

SURVIVORSTHE COMPLETE TRILOGY JACK PORTER INK RIOT BOOKS Copyright © 2023 by Jack Porter All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. CONTENTS SurvivorsChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Survivors 2Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34Chapter 35Chapter 36Chapter 37Chapter 38Chapter 39Chapter 40Chapter 41Chapter 42Chapter 43EpilogueSurvivors 3Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34Chapter 35Chapter 36Chapter 37AfterwordBooks by Jack Porter SURVIVORSA LOST WORLD HAREM CHAPTER 1 “Cryo pod integrity breach. Emergency resuscitation procedure commenced.” It was the first thing I heard when I started to come back to myself. A metallic voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once, and which repeated itself again and again, almost as if it was some form of alarm. At the same time, I felt a burning sensation, like a fire being lit inside me, as a cocktail of chemicals was dumped into my veins. My skin burned as if I had been dropped in acid. I felt nauseous and sweaty, and my head was throbbing to the tune of my fast-beating heart. Somewhere in the back of my brain was the idea that I might have been hanging suspended at an unusual angle. Within the confines of my cryo pod, I took my first gulp of air in what might have been months and almost choked on the acrid, smoky taste it left in my mouth. “What the fuck?” I grumbled, still not fully in control of myself. “Cryo pod integrity breach. Emergency resuscitation procedure commenced.” I frowned. The chemicals burning their way through my veins were sparking life back into my flesh, but it was far from pleasant. On earlier journeys, they’d made me nauseous, but this was worse. Almost as if the resuscitation procedures had been accelerated. I shook my head, grimacing in discomfort. “Let me out of here,” I grumbled, instinctively trying to move, to fling the cryo pod open and climb out. It was then I remembered my restraints. That my wrists were bound by thick chunks of metal with a length of chain joining them, that length of chain strung behind me so that my own weight prevented much movement. My ankles were bound in much the same way, the chain connecting them long enough to allow me to hobble about, but not to run. And that chain was bolted to the cryo pod itself. “Cryo pod integrity breach. Emergency resuscitation procedure commenced.” I grimaced again, trying to block out the noise, trying also to figure out what was wrong, even as the feeling returned to my limbs at a much faster pace than it should have done. I coughed, choking on the smoky air, and I finally remembered to open my eyes. Instantly, a flood of data appeared before me, a barrage of information about my immediate surroundings, courtesy of the augmentation I had been given. I made a groaning sound, jammed my eyes shut once again and shook my head in an effort to clear it. “Too much,” I muttered. “Too much.” Too much for my drug-addled brain to process, too much, too soon. I mentally toggled the off switch, grimly aware that the only useful piece of data I had taken on board was the ambient temperature. 57°C. 135°F. Much too hot for comfort, and in a temperature-controlled cryo pod, such temperatures should have been impossible. “What the fuck?” I said again. I blinked the sting of smoke away from my eyes, and for the first time since they’d closed the lid on me, I looked, really looked around, peering through the clear, crystal screen in front of me. Somehow, I was no longer hurtling through space at a fraction under lightspeed. Instead, I was on the ground, upside down, on an angle where my feet were higher than my head, with the burning remnants of the transport scattered around me. The part of my mind that was capable of something like humor chose that moment to join the rest of me and wake up. As if being chained and transported to God knew where wasn’t enough, this was how I had to wake up. It had to be some sort of joke. A cosmic joke aimed directly at me. What fun. I found myself thinking that perhaps it would have been better if the cryo chamber had simply let me continue to sleep. But such was not in its programming. I drew a deep breath and tried not to choke on the smoke. “Fuck me,” I said. “Let me out of here!” I wasn’t talking to anyone in particular. Just expressing my most urgent need. If I’d had the use of my hands, I would have hammered away at the pod cover with all of my strength. But I didn’t have the use of my hands. Not with the chain around my back as it was. And the pod wasn’t huge. I had about the same amount of space I would have had if I’d been stuck in a coffin. The best I could do was squirm around inside, trying to change position so that all of my weight wasn’t resting on my face. In desperation, I started to yell. “Help!” I called, coughing and hacking into the smoky air as I did. “Is anyone out there? Help!” I kept shouting, calling out over and