Before Dawn

By Elizabeth Arroyo

Survival rule number one: eat before being hunted.

In a world infected by violent hybrids, survival comes with its own set of rules. Sixteen-year-old Zoe is an expert at breaking them.

While Zoe has abilities she cannot explain, just getting through another day without being killed is a challenge. She has survived since her mother’s murder with help from an unexpected ally, Morph.

Morph is part of the Arcane, an elite force of teenagers from an Alliance of space stations. After the Arcane are destroyed in an explosion, only Morph and his brother survive. They are sent on a new mission to capture a dangerous hybrid.

Morph is torn between duty and his attraction to Zoe. With threats to the planet from above, Morph knows Zoe’s chances are limited. Trying to save her could be a betrayal to the Alliance.

When Zoe recovers memories of her mother’s death that point straight to the Arcane, she realizes Morph might be the real enemy.
As more mysteries are brought to light, telling friends from foes becomes difficult. For Morph and Zoe, the world is more dangerous than ever. And trusting each other is the key to them living to see another day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ellysian Press
• Release date: Jun 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781941637517

Book preview

Chapter One – Zoe

Survival rule number one: eat before being hunted

Zoe almost missed the steady whisper of vibrations under her feet.

She dropped to one knee and placed her palm against the coarse ground. Movement underground often meant earthquakes. Chicago had been one of the lucky cities still left unmarred by Mother Nature. The decay of the dead, the collapsed skyscrapers, and the desolation of the city had nothing to do with earthquakes. The Strategic Alliance destroyed the city, trying to save humanity, while cowering in space stations millions of miles away. Morph’s words, not hers. She believed him since he was one of them.

She let out a slow breath, relieved that these vibrations weren't a result of movement within the Earth's core but movement above ground. She stretched to her full height, her hand steady over the pistol at her hip. The city lay silent except for the constant drone of the Needle’s energy. It gave her a slight headache. Needle-like structures were spread out across the planet, towering into the stratosphere. Using radio transmission and thermal imaging, they were originally designed to monitor the Earth’s core, but the Alliance used them to monitor everything.

The web of light generated by the Needle’s transmission lines hovered above her. Sometimes, when it rained, the light would become trapped inside the translucent water shell, making it look like jewels were falling from the sky. It looked almost beautiful.

Her stomach rumbled, snapping her back to the present. Alone. Morph hadn't returned with supplies like he'd promised. After the second day she'd decided to head out on her own, promising herself not to give him the satisfaction of dying. If she could help it.

A long howl erupted in the distance, carried by the wind and followed by another. This one closer, too close. Zoe sprinted toward the remains of the skyscraper and pressed herself deeper into the shadows. She slipped her gun out of its holster, her hand steady, her breathing even, as she waited in silence.

It didn't take long for the sound of movement to reach her. Maneuvering over sand, grit, and stone provided all the warning she needed of the hybrid’s presence. A flutter of wind brought the creature's stench closer. Depending on its size and mass she would determine the risks involved in killing it. She wasn't stupid. Running was always an option.

The hybrid blocked the sun’s rays with its massive frame. Its shadow revealed a bipedal creature with stingers writhing on its head. No echo of its human features remained. The virus had changed it completely, like most of the population in the Urban Centers. It dropped to its knees about four meters in front of her, picked at the dirt, and lifted a rat the size of a fat cat.

Her stomach clenched, either from hunger or disgust she couldn’t tell. Probably both.

The monster's head split open, and it dropped the rat into its throat. Deciding to avoid the threat, she didn't dare move or look away. She prayed it would keep moving. Just keep going. It took a step away from her, stopped, and cocked its head. Zoe waited, not daring to breathe, not daring to lift her gun just yet. Maybe it wouldn't notice her. Maybe she could keep that promise and not get killed. Maybe—

Her stomach rumbled.

Oh, hell.

It snarled and turned to where she hid. Zoe didn't hesitate. Drawing a ragged breath, she raised her gun. A heartbeat later a crack split the air and her bullet sailed just inches from the creature’s head.

Missed.

It closed the distance between them in three easy strides, and she skittered out of the trajectory of the tentacles preceding it. Her heart slammed into her chest, and she pitched forward again, feeling the rush of wind at her neck as the creature's appendages grazed the air. Too close.

As she jumped to her feet, she swept her gun in a wide arc, emptying the contents into the creature until its head launched into the air while the rest of it fell to the ground. Overkill, but the adrenaline fueling her didn't back down. Scrambling out of the head’s trajectory as it descended, she managed to trip and hit the ground with her backside, stifling a groan. The head fell on her lap. It writhed and twisted, and she half expected it to grow a body. It wasn't out of the ordinary for a hybrid body part to continue the kill. They weren't dead-dead until they stopped moving. This one had a problem with its head. Shoving it off her lap, she jumped to her feet, ejected the spent magazine, and pulled out another, slapping it into the gun in two seconds flat. With the gun aimed at the thing, she almost popped another round into it when a long, thin tail rolled out from under one side of the head, and a tiny snout with whiskers on the other. The rat.

She tipped the head up with the barrel of her gun, releasing the squealing rat. It glanced at her. She could've sworn it nodded before scurrying off. She watched it until it disappeared into a hole. Holstering her weapon, she lifted her chin to it. You're welcome! she called after it, though regretted letting it go the moment her stomach rumbled again.

She poked the skull image on her T-shirt. You almost got me killed. When the skull didn't respond, she returned her attention to the hybrid. A result of the Nano-virus that wiped out most of humanity, hybrids were crossbreeds of varying species, including human. She couldn’t figure out the separate species that made up this dead hybrid.

Movement to her left forced her to glide back into the shadows. Silence didn't matter. She'd already made enough noise to wake the dead. Slipping between the buildings at her back, she ran through the narrow walkway leading to the alley. Her own heavy breathing and hard steps sounded way too loud. She reached the perimeter fence, an annoyance. The fence offered neither containment nor protection from monsters. She climbed it easily enough, balancing her pack. She landed on an overturned dumpster before planting herself on the ground.

The adrenaline of the kill still flowed through her veins forcing her heart’s erratic pace. She hid behind the dumpster to catch her breath. She needed to remain focused. Inhaling, she peered around the dumpster and saw a girl.

Zoe’s instincts demanded she shoot the girl right between the eyes. Some of the infected had stunted growth, making them appear like children, until they tried to claw your eyes out. But stealth and her Glock kept her alive. Another crack of gunfire and whatever lurked in the area would find her.

The girl's jet black hair hid most of her face. Pale arms stretched too thin revealed knobby bones underneath. She wore a short-sleeved purple shirt with words long faded, frayed jeans, and black canvas shoes. The girl started rummaging through scraps of garbage. Zoe groaned when the girl pulled out a four-inch slug and puckered her lips. With a sour expression on her face, the girl sucked it in and swallowed. A scowl cinched her features.

Zoe pulled back against the dumpster. Normals were rare in the Urban Centers. Morph and Jace didn’t count as she had her doubts about them. At least in the commonsense sort of way. Most Normals were contained in communities with labs and hospitals. The Alliance catalogued everything, tagged everyone. Those registered received care and food. Alliance soldiers, like Morph and Jace, even had fringe benefits that included tapping into water and electrical resources. Stations were strategically placed for them to rearm and regroup. At least until the Alliance decided to terminate access, as Shyla did with Morph, forcing him to meet with her. Those unregistered, like her, received nothing. They didn’t exist to the Alliance. She’d bet her last clip the girl was unregistered, which made her a possible partner in crime, and Zoe could use someone other than her stomach to talk to. But when she finally decided to approach the girl, she faced an empty alley instead.

Basic survivor instinct told her not to follow the girl. Leading Zoe into a den of hungry monsters didn't sound out of the ordinary. Though hybrids weren't well organized, or smart, casting bait didn't take brains. And Morph had warned her to stay away from the inner city. Too many wrecked buildings, places to hide, and underground tunnels. Zoe shouldn't risk it. Survival meant staying alone, staying out of trouble. She should return to the Mart where Morph told her to remain until he returned with supplies. Confusion settled in the pit of her stomach when she thought of him. She wanted to believe it was anger laced with hurt and not the other way around. But it hurt in places she never thought would. Smack dab in the middle of her chest. It felt hollowed out, carved and raw. The trip should’ve lasted a few hours at best. The thought drove her forward. Sometimes, you had to break the rules to prove a point. She could make her own damn decisions. She didn't need Jace or Morph to survive.

Screw it.

She started deeper into the city, exactly where Morph told her never to go.

She never listened to him anyway.

Chapter Two – Morph

Aislyn – Seer of all things and still sane

Morph stood at the center of the universe. At least that's what it felt like standing inside the Needle's glass dome rotunda. The darkness of space hovered above him in its infinite solitude while the curvature of the Earth in the distance, lined with white clouds over patches of blue oceans and green fields, filled his line of sight just below. It forced him to realize Earth's perfect design and all its vulnerability. When Morph decided to leave his birthright and hop on a transport to Earth with grunts, he didn’t know anything about the planet. Like the warm feel of the sun on your skin. Or the soft touch of blades of grass under you. Or the smell of summer flowers in full bloom. The dangers were second to his love of the big blue sphere.

Aislyn approached him with long, graceful movements. With an oval shaped head, gleaming white eyes, and a muscular system suggesting elasticity, Aislyn could very well be the next evolution of human. A scary thought considering the bot also processed tons of information converging in the Needle. With all that data flooding its system, Morph wondered when the thing would finally go crazy. Even bots had their limits. Better to jam a bullet into its bioengineered gut than to let a crazy bot filter information to the Alliance. But just like Morph, Aislyn possessed great skill which included keeping its wiring intact. After fifty years as resident of the Needle and possessor of secrets, Aislyn kept on ticking.

Aislyn, how are you? Morph asked.

I am well, thank you. This way. Aislyn led him into the command center where the information pathways converged. Tall, thick processors lined the east wall. An umbilical-like appendage fell from the ceiling, spreading into five individual pods. The pods themselves were nothing more than basic transporters with enough thrust to eject the pod into orbit – about four-hundred kilometers above Earth's surface. Once in space the auto nav system sets a course to the nearest tachyon sphere which would turn the pod into a projectile moving at light speed. All of it controlled by the Alliance. An unauthorized launch could result in drifting in space for eternity.

Well, it's about time. A female voice echoed in the chamber.

Morph smiled and turned to the small figure on the console. A sense of relief washed over him. Shyla Noria, Speaker of the People, decided to remain on the Phoenix and use a holograph to meet him. A tomb holding three thousand restless souls, the Phoenix, together with the other hundred ships cruising the galaxy, formed the Strategic Alliance. After the Earth started dying, the great leaders decided a mass exodus would save them. As the years passed, and Earth continued to fall out of reach, humans abandoned the idea of returning home. Instead, they sucked the nuclear and water resources off the planet. Eventually, they’d let it rot.

You must remain within the circle so she can see you, Aislyn instructed.

Morph nodded but didn't move. He'd never met Shyla in person. She’d won the elections against his father after Morph broke Jace out of Exile. After most of the Arcane were killed, Morph had needed time to regroup, to try to figure out his next move. It took him eighteen months. Shyla left him no choice when she restricted his access to supplies. Eat or die. And so here he stood.

Morph bit down the urge to run away and stepped into the circle.

Long silver hair framed her face. Pale skin accented with brilliant emerald eyes under silver lashes and brows. A long-sleeved white shirt hugged the upper half of her body, and brown fatigues with black boots her lower half.

Her eyes narrowed as she spoke. I thought you were dead. Venom spilled from her voice.

Not yet.

Disobeying orders is conduct unbecoming an officer. I’ve summoned you quite a few times.

Yup, he definitely needed to be careful with this one. He bit down hard to keep the expletives behind his teeth.

I’m a soldier of the Arcane. I don’t exist, he reminded her. You know how we operate. When . . . I mean if our mission becomes compromised there’s no ties back to you. Is this conversation being recorded? He looked around for effect. He knew the hell it wasn’t. Shyla glared at him, and her intimidation fell away like tendrils of flesh sliding off the human body when exposed to a Shadow Maker – a weapon capable of disintegrating everything within the blast radius, leaving behind shadows. The same weapon used to kill the Arcane.

Yes, well I guess we all have a purpose. She inhaled deeply, and for a moment her shoulders dropped, her eyes lowered. A show of weakness. As the Speaker of the People within the Council, Shyla’s frailty could be very dangerous. A heartbeat later she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. What happened in Flat Rock? she asked.

My team was killed, he said through gritted teeth, clenching his fists to keep them from shaking. Every time he thought about it he wanted to kill something. You should have the feed. The Needle told no lies.

I want to hear it from you.

We went in as instructed. The town was viable. Jace and Rossi reported activity in the West Tower. When I got there, Jace was fighting Archer. I went to assist when the tower blew, then the hospital, then the labs . . . everything.

Shyla began to pace, sliding in and out of the visual frame. And the others?

Dante Rossi was in the tower when it fell. All the others in the hospital with the civilians.

She stopped and spun to face him. Anger in her expression. And Archer?

Xerxes Archer had managed to mold the virus to mask his true appearance as a hybrid and the Alliance wanted to know how. Archer had been their mission. I was unable to terminate him.

Your orders are to collect a blood sample, not kill him.

I will not risk my life or those of my men. I will kill it if it forces my hand. And he wouldn’t lose sleep over it.

She considered this a moment, probably weighing her options. As Speaker, Shyla had a firm grip on his life. His commanding officer had told him that she'd squared a deal with the Council not to have him arrested for breaking Jace out, and as long as his brother still needed to serve his time, Morph had to do anything in his power to keep him alive. This meant being her lackey.

The Alliance claims no participation in the events that led to the deaths, she said, her tone even, almost forced.

Last I heard, the Alliance is the only one capable of that kind of destruction, he spat back.

Shyla stopped pacing and stared right through him. Perhaps Archer somehow rigged the explosion.

He hadn’t thought it could’ve been a hybrid. They were infected, volatile, but not intelligent. And Shadow Makers were the sole property of the Alliance, so how the hell did Archer get his hands on one? He didn’t mention this to Shyla. One didn’t brainstorm with the Alliance. Bobbing heads and saluting usually kept them happy. Why was I summoned?

I have a package arriving on Earth in a few days. I want you to retrieve and assist.

His stomach sank to his knees. A covert operation with collateral damage. He didn’t like it. What’s the package?

You’ll know when it gets there. Retrieve and assist, are we clear?

Morph had a bad feeling. He always had a bad feeling when orders came from on high. It meant he was as vulnerable as a hybrid with a Glock up his ass. What about supplies?

I’ll have your access reinstated and in the meantime Aislyn will see to your immediate needs. I’m sure we can accommodate such a small team. How is Jace anyway?

Alive.

Good. Your family here wishes you well. I’ve taken care of them. The threat in her voice forced his gut to clench. His sister and father remained on the Phoenix.

Thanks, he said.

I sometimes forget how young you are. Sixteen, is it?

Morph could hardly remember. It’d been so long since he thought of time as linear. Seventeen, he responded. Though age is irrelevant.

I’m not so sure, Shyla scolded. The young have become a scarcity in this world. One that will be remedied, I suppose. If you grow up. Her voice took on a sharp edge to it. A clear threat. Don’t fail me this time. I believe you are all that’s left of the Arcane.

The screen winked out, leaving an echo of her silhouette against the backdrop of black that shimmered and vanished.

He stepped out of the circle and returned to the rotunda. The grand nothingness beyond the window reminded him of how he hated space. Hated the Phoenix. He belonged on earth with Zoe. During the last eighteen months he’d memorized every nuance in her expression. The arched brow when she had a question, the crease between her eyes when she didn’t understand something, the tightness in her lips when she lied. Also, the softness of her skin, the delicate contours of her features, her full lips. He pulled against the need to be with her, like he always did, fought the need for her warmth to strip away the ice forming around his heart.

Something powerful lay between them. The reality of it held a different truth. Zoe could never join him back home.

It was his last conscious thought before pain surged behind his eyes and the ground rushed up to meet him.

Chapter Three – Zoe

Running not allowed

Zoe tracked the girl by following the imprints she left on the ash covered ground. After the infection spread, the Alliance used plasma weapons to sanitize the Urban Center. They couldn’t risk destroying the entire city for fear of losing the Needle. Zoe didn’t know about the rest of the world. The Alliance governed everything. Even information.

Her mother had ingrained three truths into her brain before she died.

The world had gone to shit.

The Alliance wanted to complete its destruction.

Trust no one.

And yet she found herself trusting Morph, an Alliance soldier, too young and too broken when she’d first met him. After he survived her poor attempt at killing him, he’d cared for his dying brother. During those moments he seemed lost. He talked more than he should’ve, and she listened more than she should’ve, but as she grew to care for him, she felt less broken inside.

But Morph hadn’t returned, and there were no hybrids on the Needle so he couldn’t be dead. Which meant he’d left her alone. She pulled back her thoughts and focused on the imprints. She didn’t dare run. Running meant subtle vibrations underneath her which attracted whatever lived underground. Running also meant panic, and anything could be waiting around corners. Rules of survival: one should eat before being hunted and no running allowed.

The final glimmer of sunlight fell between buildings, like fingers pointing at the remnants of the world. The transmission beams above her formed a web of lights dimmed by the low hanging clouds. It would rain soon making the monsters more volatile. Zoe lengthened her stride, moving faster.

Turning a corner into an alleyway, she came face to face with a brick wall. Dead end. Her heart pounded loud in her ears, and she eased her breathing to a still whisper. Silence draped over her like a steel blanket. A foul wet stench hung in the air. The smell of wet dog. The familiar tingle just under her flesh marked danger. Slowly, she looked up to a canopy of honey-colored sky hanging about twenty feet above her, stretching across the buildings flanking her. The thick sap clung to the brick walls on either side of her, cocooning her. Lowering her eyes to the ground, she concentrated on the sounds around her and the steady pulsing against the fabric of her clothes.

The monsters had found her.

Zoe eased forward one small step at a time, deeper into the alley, catching movement behind her. Feet balanced, she faced the threat.

Two insectoid creatures stood at the opening of the alley, blocking her exit. They moved in unison, and she realized it wasn’t two, just one. Part human and part wasp, the human-like head had four eyes, two noses, and a wide mouth splitting its face in two. Its gelatinous abdomen leaked tendrils of honey-colored resin onto everything it touched. Pincers jutted out of its chest. Its legs stood at an awkward angle, bent back at the knee. It let out a hiss and two more creatures slithered beside it.

Did it just call for back-up? No. These things had no executive functioning. They were ice cubes with no morality, no awareness, save one: survive.

Zoe lifted her Glock. Every bullet had to count.

The hybrid in the middle lifted its bug eyes and made a clicking noise and two more climbed down the resin to stand beside it. The five creatures in front of her branched out in a semi-circle, coordinated in their movements to cut her to pieces. And communicating, which meant higher brain function. Maybe they could reason with humans and find a way to coexist. Zoe fought the urge to look up, knowing she wouldn’t like what she saw there.

The middle one, the leader, took a step forward and a high-pitched sound floated into the air. An electric charge replaced the sound, urging the fight on.

Wait! Zoe lifted her hands, the barrel of the gun raised in a gesture of peace. I don’t want to fight you. She wasn’t sure if they understood her. Speaking bug wasn’t part of her skill sets. But it stopped and hope replaced fear. Could they make peace? Please, she added.

The heat around her spiked and sweat dripped between her shoulder blades. Time stilled. A sharp guttural noise forced her attention to the new threat to her left, just under the shadows, and hope shattered into microscopic photons that blinked out of existence.

Archer.

The hybrid she’d been helping Morph hunt.

Xerxes Archer had once been a soldier. He’d managed to alter the virus to mask his deformity. Lingering between human and hybrid, he could alter his appearance and still retain his executive functioning. Archer was smart and as a soldier, dangerous. Zoe could understand the conflict of living in two worlds. She and he were alike.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed at his chest, watching her. Even as a hybrid, Archer’s mutations weren’t erratic. While most infected humans were a blend of different species, Archer looked human. He didn’t have extra appendages or eyeballs. The difference in his genetic code seemed contained in the rough texture of his skin and the size of his frame. Solid, like a rock. And crystallized blue. The images Morph had shown her of him were nothing compared to the reality of the threat he posed.

Archer scared her, and she didn’t scare easily. Crazy hybrids were easy to kill. Calculating ones had been nonexistent until Archer came along. She didn’t even know if she should kill him. The key to saving the human race may be embedded in his genetic code.

A glimpse of movement propelled her back to the immediate threat in front of her. If Archer wanted to kill her, he’d have to wait in line.

The attack came quick and hard.

The bug leader slammed into her, sending her sprawling on her backside with a thud. Her shoulder hit the concrete with a crack and sharp pain followed. Pain meant she was still alive. A quick release of air from her lungs, and she twisted her body, gun leading, as the bug thing followed her to the ground. Two shots pierced the bug’s belly just as it came down on her. Liquid sap poured out of the gaping wound onto her hands, warm and slick. In one quick breath, she shoved the bug away from her and jumped to her feet. The threats following suit gave her no