Hybrids: Shadow Tribe: Hybrids, #1

By Cheryl L. Hyde

Hybrid—a combination of two or more species, breeds, or varieties to form a new and distinct life form.

 

Humans are constantly trying to improve on what is. Over the years they mercilessly experimented with combining human and animal DNA, trying to create a being they could control and train to fight their enemies. After relentless trial and error, always ending in death to the host mother, as well as the offspring, an outside influence—alien DNA—was secretly introduced and successfully paired the incompatible DNA forms thus creating the hybrids.

 

The hybrids of Shadow Tribe, the largest of Earth's hybrid communities, enjoy peace and prosperity. They have flourished in their community, as well as in the human world, undetected for generations, until now. Now the very reason they exist is trying to wipe them out—extinguish them. Their enemies are the humans—their creators—who also call Earth home.

 

An unrest—unease, disturbance—is growing and making its way around the world as these humans form mercenary groups and go hunting—hunting for the hybrids their ancestors created. Panterë, the young and future leader of the Shadow Tribe, and her mentor and fierce warrior protector, Shade, find themselves in the battle of their lives in an unfamiliar and hostile territory. If this fight is lost, so, too, is the future of the hybrids.

 

Ancestral alien DNA, shape shifting, psychic hybrids, and mercenary, hostile humans clash, bringing chaos and death to a once peaceful and meaningful existence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Whisper Publications
• Release date: Aug 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9781950598069

Cheryl L. Hyde

I make my home in the beautiful state of Colorado backed up against the Rocky Mountains. I live with my husband Anthony, and my rescue Blue Front Amazon parrot, Riley. I enjoy traveling, writing, painting, fitness, nature, visiting with friends, curling up with a good book, and the awesomeness of every day.Each new day is a blessing to be treasured!One of the greatest joys of writing is losing myself in the story—I may begin the story, but soon it is writing itself—sometimes taking me on a totally different journey than originally imagined. I find myself on a magical ride to new places, or reliving and reinventing places I've visited.I hope you enjoy my stories and please feel free to connect with me. I love to hear from my readers and fans. I feel very lucky to have connected with and made so many friends in this very special world we live.Through social media, especially my Twitter Tribe and Writers Community, I am blessed with a multitude of caring and wonderful friends who support me in so many ways—you are awesome!It is with heartfelt gratitude that I thank my readers and fans around the world. I feel extremely honored to be a part of your reading list.Visit me on Twitter at: @Cheryl_L_Hyde

Book preview

Copyright © 2019 Cheryl L. Hyde

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-950598-07-6 eBook

ISBN: 978-1-950598-06-9 paperback 5x8 format

Whisper Publications. UNITED STATES

[e-mail]

Cover design by Cheryl L. Hyde

eBook formatting by Cheryl L. Hyde

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

This eBook contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties.

License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted material, as this violates author’s rights. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your eBook retailer and purchase an authorized copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, settings, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, names, business establishments, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Connect with Cheryl L. Hyde

Visit me on Twitter.com: @Cheryl_L_Hyde

Chapter 01 Hunters

THE darkness folds around her like a mitten caressing a hand. She is comfortable in the darkness. The dark moon of this night provides no light, suiting her purposes perfectly. Her objective is to stay out of sight, observing the world around her, as she patiently waits for the hunters to enter her realm. From her vantage point she can see clearly more than a mile in any direction. Those she awaits are on a mission to extinguish her and her kind, the hybrids—crossbreeds, mongrels, manthers.

She knows the hunters will approach her territory this night, but can't be sure exactly when. Her many friends along their path keep her informed of the cross-country hunting party's progress. She could venture out and take the group unawares during their journey, but prefers to wait. She knows this terrain and its inhabitants, as well as she knows her own body. This is her territory.

The thick woods provide protection, covering and concealing her location. She is adept at ascending into the canopies of the various trees, allowing her to see who or what is approaching, even during this darkest of nights. Her night vision is as exact as that of an ocelot, which has the best night vision of the big felines, and she feels as relaxed as her sleeping nocturnal friends who call this tree home. She will see the enemy long before they can hope to locate her—if they actually can find her. The peaceful chirps of crickets and frogs and the slight rustle of feathers as birds rest in their nests surround her and serve as an early warning signal. Her hearing is as acutely tuned as her vision and she catches various night hunters as they pad on silent feet far below. Night birds slice the air on silent wings as they glide by.

She hears and smells the human hunters as they approach closer to her territory. She sniffs the air and quickly identifies two males and a female in the hunting party. Their obnoxious body stench almost gags her—sweat, pheromones, and various chemical odors assault her olfactory nerves. They are steadily but very slowly approaching her location.. It is only a matter of time now before her predators become the prey then the fodder. She takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it and relaxes lower into her position. Her belly grazes the rough bark of the branch as she stretches her body along it. To the casual observer, she looks totally relaxed, perhaps even resting, however her body is on high alert.

An eerie silence abruptly spreads across the damp, misty marsh surrounding the forest. Everything goes still—silent—as the frogs, crickets, and other lifeforms of the night cease their nighttime serenade. The silence begins first off to her right and works its way across the marsh towards her. Not moving a muscle, her eyes search for the disturbance that caused the change in the creatures of the woods and the marsh. She slows her breathing and heart rate, stretches her lithe body closer against the limb—blending seamlessly into its lines—focusing her eyes, searching for the threat—the predator.

She senses, rather than sees, the crepuscular species that caused the marsh creatures to go silent and still and relaxes her muscles somewhat. It is only a lone coyote, carrying her prey in her mouth as she makes its way back to the den, posing no immediate threat to her existence. After all coyotes can't climb trees. She takes another deep breath and softly expels it. As the canid continues homeward, the normal and soothing night sounds once again reverberate through the countryside.

The minutes slowly glide into an hour. She hears a soft flutter of wings as a barn owl flies silently overhead looking for his dinner. She watches thoughtfully as the bird glides gracefully through the tree branches. She can almost sense the further quieting of nearby birds in their nests as they blend deeper into their surroundings to avoid detection. Using her cat-like vision, she focuses closer and sees the owl carries a small rodent, probably a mouse, in its beak as it continues its silent journey back to its nest and the fluffy owlets waiting for their dinner.

Gazing out at the seemingly all black landscape, that is in reality a multitude of swirling colors, she resumes her vigilant watch. All of her senses are on high alert. Her nose twitches and flares slightly before curling inward as she searches for and finds the potent, unnatural scent of humans in the still night air. Their stink, as well as the noise of their passage, alerts the night hunters to their presence long before they physically enter a zone.

Her pupils dilate, allowing as much light to enter her eyes as possible. Her stereoscopic vision observes the slight movement in the tall tawny grasses at about one o'clock. The enhanced vision she and her kind possess, compliments of their alien ancestors, afford the ability to see perfectly in low or bright light.

The interlopers are almost a mile away, but she hones her senses to full alert status. The grasses are not gently swaying rhythmically such as they do when a mountain lion or other large cat moves through. They are moving erratically and uncontrolled.

Keenly aware of her surroundings, she counts various movement signals from the grass. Three. Three humans coming her way across the marshy plain—the human bringing up the rear is the female. The middle one—a large male—appears to have a slightly uncoordinated gait, as if injured or physically compromised in some minor way.

Making their way through the marshy grasses, often stumbling before regaining their footing, the predators trudge on. They appear weary and will enter her forest—her hunting grounds, her territory—in a few brief minutes. The human predators will unknowingly soon become the prey.

Looking beyond the three hunters, she sees the grass tops sway ever so slightly as if a light breeze floats across them, but the night air is still. Slowly, silently the cat advances, quietly stalking the humans. She knows instinctively it is one of the resident big cats that call this forest and the surrounding marshy grasslands home. A quick sniff and she identifies it as a panther. The cat does not tolerate intruders. The humans have unwittingly—unsuspectingly—become his prey. She may only have to deal with two humans as she watches the big feline close the gap between itself and the last in line.

Her peripheral vision picks up a second predator, a smaller panther, coming from the left on an intercept course with the smallest human—the female. She knows instinctively that as this female feline takes down the smaller individual, its larger male, and probably more experienced, hunting partner will swiftly remove the next in line—the impaired male. That will leave only the lead human for her to render non-threatening.

Under different circumstances, she would call out a warning. A simple animal call is all it would take to send the big cats on their way and save the two humans from certain death—a death that will not be pleasant nor particularly quick. She does not make the call.

The female’s first reaction is complete and utter shock when the attack begins, leaving her response too slow to save her life, even with a weapon in hand and at ready. The first flesh-ripping swipe of the big paw renders the female unable to run as the cat's claws sever muscles and connective tissues in the lower leg. The Achilles tendon, and thus the attached foot, are rendered useless. The pain is swift, sharp and deep—all encompassing.

Following the initial shock the female attempts to turn and face her attacker head on, foolishly believing she can ultimately win the battle. But the sleek, black cat easily overpowers her, tackling her and pinning her body to the damp ground. Flesh is ripped apart as sharp nails tear deep gouges through the skin, exposing muscle and bone, allowing the lifeblood to pour from the body. As the female human faces her attacker, the panther grabs the esophagus and tears her throat away. Blood spurts and sprays in a bright red, arcing, geyser, as the female feebly fights the last fight of her short life.

The young female lives just long enough to see the larger dark feline gracefully leap over her and her feline  attacker to pounce on the next human in line. Her first instinct is to yell a warning, but she promptly discovers she has no voice. She tries to pound the earth with her arms, but they no longer function. She feels the coldness spreading throughout her body. She knows she is dying—dead—and there is nothing she can do to change the inevitable. Eyes that can no longer shed a tear, widely stare into the darkness as she soundlessly sinks into the bleak oblivion of this hellish night. The big cats will feast before taking home the remainder of the two kills for their family. The humans lives are not taken for sport.

Knowing how the kills will play out, the female hybrid prepares for the capture of the lead human. She does not have a weapon, nor does she need one. She has evolved beyond what mere mortals consider normal. She signals her companion with a low throaty call so quiet it doesn’t register with the human. Her companion returns the call as both prepare for the takedown. They silently lift into low crouching positions, muscles poised and ready for launch. Shifting their feet slightly, both focus their sites on the human advancing steadily into their territory.

The human hears a slight ruffling of grasses directly behind him and prepares to turn. Quickly and silently, with no warning, he is struck from above and forced to the ground. His weapon is pinned beneath him as his body flattens into the earth with enough force to trap his arms beneath him.

His lungs deflate as the air whooshes out and he feels, as well as hears, ribs crack. His right shoulder feels as if it shattered and completely dislocated. Both legs suffer damage, with the left knee suffering debilitating injuries.

His eyes bulge wildly in their sockets, as he attempts to determine what the hell just happened—what struck him. What attacked him? A loud howl escapes his mouth as pain engulfs him before his head is slammed face first into the earth.

What he first thought was a large paw with sharp nails pressing into his lower back now feels more like a bent knee. A bony elbow jabs roughly into his spine between his shoulder blades, twisting side to side, making its painful presence known. His face is planted nose first into the marshy flora making it difficult to draw air into his bruised lungs. He idly wonders if his nose is broken.

He is effectively crushed into the ground barely able to breathe and unable to move a muscle. His ankles are roughly crossed over each other and quickly secured. Immediately one arm is violently jerked behind him followed by the other. Both are tightly bound. The knee and elbow are then removed from his back.

Roll over!

The man groans and tries to do as directed only to find his body won't follow simple commands. His knee feels as if it is on fire and his lungs and ribs have him sucking in shallow breaths. He feels something warm and sticky running down and across his shoulder and knows it is blood, his blood.

Roll over or I'll roll you over.

The man tries once again and manages to raise one shoulder off the ground before paralyzing pain stops all movement. Breathing is labored—ragged—and consists of small puffs of air, as anything more than that feels like a thousand razor sharp knives piercing his lungs. He shakes his head helplessly rubbing his broken nose along the ground. Can’t, he gasps.

He sees a large foot prepare to shove or most likely kick his shoulder. All muscles tense and prepare for the inevitable agony that will accompany the roll. No! Stop! It is not our place to cause him more distress. We are to get him home, she states authoritatively.

We also must be sure he has no other weapons to use against us. You’re too soft—inexperienced—and will get yourself and others killed one day. I’m not going to be one of those you kill, a deep male voice rebukes.

She shrinks back slightly from the rebuke but quickly regains her composure. She nods slightly. Search him, but do so without causing more damage.

The man is thankful for the soft female voice asking that reasonable care be used. His body is systematically and swiftly searched for additional weapons. The night vision goggles are ripped from his face and his sight immediately becomes severely impaired. He can only see a scant few inches in front of his face. He fleetingly wonders how his two captors are able to see anything, yet they seem to have no problem seeing him and their surroundings.

The male does a very thorough search, finding and removing two handguns, two fixed blade Karambit knives as well as a folding knife tucked neatly into a hidden inside pocket. Further probing finds three hand grenades, four fully loaded magazines, and an automatic knife. He holds all up for the female to see.

You still want to be gentle with him? I want to rip out his throat, the male snarls. He releases the automatic knife from its sheath and holds it to the man's throat.

We cannot.

The long, sharp switchblade is securely sheathed and all the weapons disappear into the big male's pack.

Looking from one to the other with pain-glazed eyes, the human swears that the hand of the male is becoming a paw with long, sharp nails. But as quickly as he sees a paw, it’s gone. Only a human hand extends at the end of the massive arm, the hand flexes then opens. He gently shakes his head to clear his mind—a movement that causes him to hiss and hold his breath as a fresh wave of pain and dizziness slams through his broken body.

Our mission is to take him to Council, not kill him, she whispers reasonably.

Do you not believe he would have killed us given the chance? the male quietly responds, glaring and jerking his head toward the man lying on the ground.

She shakes her head. No. I am certain he would have enjoyed killing us then collecting his pay for completing his mission. Unfortunately, she says resignedly, we are more civilized and need him alive in order to obtain the information he carries within his brain. His dead body will do us little good other than as fodder for the pure-breeds. Untie his ankles so he can stand and walk.

As the male removes the bindings, the man exclaims, I can't walk! You wrecked my fucking knee. He glances pleadingly at the female, hoping she may be the softer—more reasonable—of his two captors.

He figures that if he can gain her sympathy and a little compassion, perhaps he’ll be able to capture or kill one or preferably both of them and still complete his fucking mission—a mission that has quickly become a bona fide clusterfuck.

You will either walk on your own or we shall leave you to suffer the same fate as your two comrades. We will not carry you. Now suck it up, get up, and let us be on our way, she retorts. The two grab the male by his arms and roughly pull him to his feet. They immediately release him to either stand on his own or crumble into a miserable heap. The big male hopes it is the latter.

The human hisses in a breath through tight lips as a fresh wave of pain claims his body. nearly doubling him over. How he manages to stay upright, he has no idea. His ribs burn and his knee screams. To his chagrin, he is lightheaded, nauseous, and sporting a cold sweat. The world seems to be spinning around him. He swallows the vile acid convulsively, before tentatively placing his foot on the ground. He cautiously puts some weight on the severely injured leg and nearly crumbles. Finding a new level of resolve and fortitude, he manages to remain upright. He wants to ask what happened to his two associates, but doesn't get the chance and decides maybe he really doesn't want to know. He is certain he doesn't want to suffer the same fate. He knows without a doubt they are no longer in this world because if they were, they would have come to his aid.

See, it is not so difficult given the alternative is it? she says sassily. Now get moving.

So much for her being the gentler one, he thinks. He takes one small faltering step then another, wincing with each one. Okay. One small step at a time—one foot in front of the other. Repeat. I've got this, he encourages.

He is breathing hard and panting before completing five steps. His heart feels like it’s going to pound out of his chest. Sweat is running down his face and into his eyes. He cannot even brush it away as his hands are still bound behind him. His destroyed shoulder feels like it’s on fire. I hope we don't have far to go. You know, I could probably go a little faster and a little easier if I could use my arms. Maybe a stick for support.

The male slants him a withering look. Shut up and walk, or in your case limp and stumble.

Chapter 02 Healing Center

AS dawn breaks along the horizon, the trio nears a large village. The exhausted human is barely able to stand and leans heavily on his captors, who begrudgingly finally helped support his weight so they could reach their destination. Between his inability to see in the dark and his injuries, it became plainly obvious he'd never make it without their assistance. Stupid weak human.

Arms still bound behind him, he has adjusted them to one side of his body so that one arm presses against his cracked ribs, helping hold them in place as he hobbles and jerks along. His knee is swollen to at least twice its normal size and stopped supporting his weight several miles ago. He is drenched in a cold sweat and, not for the first time, wonders if he should simply give in, lie down, and let the forest consume him. His captors still look as fresh as when he first encountered them. They have not given him much information, but he knows in his soul that his two comrades—his friends—are dead.

Coming out of the forest on the east side of the village, the man senses a change in the atmosphere and raises his head. He is stunned by what lays before him—a whole city out here in the middle of nowhere. His step falters as he looks around in shock. The settlement is ultra modern, yet blends into the surrounding landscape seeming to appear and disappear from his view. He blinks to clear his weary brain as he tries to make sense of his surroundings. He attempts to stand a little taller to get a better look around, but hisses as the excruciating pain overrides his brain's command. He finds himself bending over at his waist, once again fighting an almost overwhelming urge to vomit or pass out.

Breathing heavily, sweat dripping from his face and body, muscles quivering with extreme exhaustion and dehydration, the man feels a certain sense of relief at having arrived. Arrived where—he has no idea. On the heels of a feeling of relief, quickly comes unstoppable fear. He knows that this community doesn’t appear on any surveillance scans or satellite photos. With that thought, an immediate increase in dread and worry in the form of icy cold unstoppable fear replaces any short-lived sense of relief he originally felt.

This can't be real. He briefly wonders if members of other reconnaissance parties are being held captive here. If so, perhaps we can band together and get the upper hand. Complete our mission and wipe these savage misfits from the face of the earth. He stops and spreads his feet wide, his weight supported on his right leg, attempting to look tough. His eyes try to take in every detail so if—no not if, when—he gets away, he can report his findings.

Keep walking, the female quietly, yet authoritatively, commands, slicing into his thoughts.

And if I don't, what are you going to do? You didn’t bring me all this way just to kill me, he sneers.

Now is not the time for such false bravado. There are many here who would just as soon end your worthless life as look at you. And they would not care to make your death quick or particularly painless. In fact, a good many would make it as painful as possible. You would beg for your demise, still it would not be forthcoming. She lets her words sink in and is secretly pleased by the further paling of his facial color. She cannot quite hide the smile that plays upon her lips.

Let's not awaken any more of our residents than those who have already discovered we are home and have a human enemy in tow. Word will spread quickly enough. Now, I suggest you keep walking, she commands again and gives his arm a hard squeeze.

Or, we could stake him to the ground right here and let those that want to, have a turn at him, the male suggests.

The female slants him a look that has him closing his mouth. Let’s go, she commands haughtily. Help him, she directs her companion.

The large male grudgingly wraps an arm around the man and not entirely gently, helps him across the central piazza. He despises touching, let alone helping this  stinking human. His hand and fingernails become those of a large black cat and he gently dips a long, sharp nail into the man's skin, scraping slightly.

The human sucks in a breath and his eyes get wide as the nail opens a small, precise wound on his side. Fresh blood oozes down his rib cage.

What are you? Who are you? He wonders.

Shade, the female warns.

The male shrugs nonchalantly as he retracts his nails and the big paw becomes a hand once again. He grins cunningly at the human, showing slightly elongated, sharp fangs, as they continue their journey across the square. He adjusts his hold on the human slightly, just enough to have the man groan as his ribs and shoulder react to the additional pressure. Several minutes later they arrive at the most southwestern structure and the door silently slides open, allowing entry.

The dwelling is not overly opulent or even particularly comfortable. In fact, it is an almost sterile, cold looking environment, reminding the man of reported UFO exam room descriptions with its eerie blue-white color. Light appears to be coming from every surface—walls, ceiling, floor—and is so bright it actually hurts his eyes, causing him to immediately close then slowly force his eyes to open, squinting. His captors have no problem seeing as they continue moving forward. The air is fresh, but is a bit too cool for the human's preference.

He involuntarily shivers, not sure if it is related to the temperature, the environment, or the totally bizarre situation he finds himself. Perhaps, it is a combination of all three. He wishes they were still in the forest, even with the unknown dangers and wild creatures roaming about. At least in the open, he felt like maybe he had a chance at survival, albeit a small one.

"Let's get him to Altheda. She can examine his injuries and decide the