Death's Echo (The Complex Book 0)

by Rachel M Raithby

  DEATHS ECHO

  By

  Rachel M Raithby

  Copyright and legal information

  Copyright © Rachel M Raithby, 2016

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Art Interior Images by R.A. Mizer @ Shoutlines Design

  Formatting by Kat Smith @ Kats Book Promotions & Services

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the copyright owners.

  Dedication

  I dedicate this book to the universe. Maybe now you'll give me a break.

  Acknowledgments

  I'll start off by thanking the people that help me time and time again.

  To my mother for her PA support, formatting and blogging.

  To my father for all his excellent graphics and website design. Website: www.Creationinspire.com

  To my grandparents for your endless childcare duties. (I know secretly you'd never give my children back unless I asked).

  And to my family, for continuing to listen to my self-doubts and general craziness.

  Without all of you no book would reach completion.

  Then there are the bloggers, the pimpers, and every reader that cheers me on. Thank you for loving books, and thank you for including one of mine on your TBR list.

  Until the next one. Happy Reading.

  Contents Page

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  The Complex Series

  About the Author

  Glossary

  Meta – Beings with supernatural powers – either Born of Earth or from one of the other planets

  Human – Inhabitants of Earth that possess no supernatural powers

  Climintra – Law enforcement, nicknamed Intra

  Ama Seldova – A new government created by the Humans and Metas

  Zipper – Hover cab, fitting up to ten people

  Jetter - Small space ship

  Glyder – Hover skateboard, fitting up to two people

  Flyer – Hoverbike, used by law enforcement, fitting up to three people

  Vidscreen – TV

  Uni – Main company supplying materials for the Complex

  S-Co – Seldova Coin

  After a brutal war lasting twelve years between Humans and Metas, an uneasy truce is declared in the Seldova solar system. A new government is formed by both Humans and Metas called Ama Seldova, with one president on each of the seven planets charged with keeping harmony between both races.

  With hopes of creating peace, Ama Seldova began the construction of the Complex on the barren planet, Lorn. The Complex was built in hopes of creating a blended community of Humans and Metas, sent to test the possibility of a united existence between the two races. Yet acquiring volunteers wasn’t as easy as first thought. Not only is the Complex a mixture of Metas and Humans, but criminals and high class. All have secrets, all have a reason for taking the offered incentive, but will they get along?

  January 1st, 6 AS (Ama Seldova) Arrival Day

  Jumping down from the jetter, dust flying up around her, Aqulla sucked humid air into her lungs and walked a short distance from the group she’d arrived with. The space ride to Lorn hadn’t been enjoyable. It was just her luck she’d been seated next to a woman who’d killed her husband in a rage when she’d found him cheating. Part of Aqulla appreciated what the woman had done. Put in the same situation, she was certain she’d do the same, but that didn’t apply to the Banshee within—the hungry, bloodthirsty side of her that called for death. Denying that part of herself wasn’t easy. It was a battle she’d contended with most of her life.

  “Hey! Don’t wander off. Get in line.”

  Turning, Aqulla narrowed her eyes at the Intra solider, then looked in the direction he was indicating for her to go. Breath rushing out between clenched teeth, Aqulla almost turned around and climbed back aboard the jetter; maybe fifteen years in prison would actually be a better deal than the Complex.

  “Move along!”

  “All right, all right, jeez,” she hissed back, baring teeth.

  The Complex stood tall and proud in the distance, its silver walls like glittering gems. The harsh sun reflected off the many domes, making it almost unbearable to look at. The center dome was by far the widest. Its sides sloped off behind two pointed domes at either side. At its base was a low rectangular shape that ran the length of the Complex. Aqulla gazed up, shielding her eyes but couldn’t make out the top; it soared into the sky, disappearing behind low hazy clouds. It was a massive, intimidating structure, a stark reminder that the Ama Seldova—the governing body and leaders of the new “peaceful” regime—were watching. Its gleaming walls might be a far cry from the dank cell she’d left, but The Complex was still a cell. A gilded cage she’d have to survive for the next two and a half years.

  Walking forward, Aqulla was herded toward the many lines of people waiting to enter the community. She breathed a sigh of relief when the husband killer was shown to a different line, but it was short lived. It seemed the Complex was full of killers. Death’s echo lingered everywhere. But the lines weren’t only made up of criminals. Gazing across the rows, Aqulla could make out the lines of “nice” clientele. Even from this distance she could feel their disapproving stares, make out their rich-man clothes.

  They’ll last five minutes with these lot. She smiled to herself, kicking the ground. Though I wonder what secrets they hide. If it had taken monetary bribes to get convicts, some on life sentences, to join the experiment, then what had it taken to get volunteers who already had money and “privileged” lives?

  Taking another step, Aqulla ground her teeth together in an effort to keep from shifting. The Meta in front of her reeked of death; he’d killed so many. Aqulla couldn’t make out the individual echoes. He was a mass of swirling darkness threatening to pull her under. But she couldn’t give in to her natural instincts, no matter how much she wanted too. The Complex was her ticket to freedom, her only way to wipe out the past and maybe make amends with her family. Then hopefully, her grandmother wouldn’t see her as a stain on the family’s reputation. She’d be allowed back into the banshee coven, and they’d see she that she could live with the power of her gifts.

  The line moved one more excruciating step further. Aqulla released a deep breath and slid her eyes shut. The line was impossibly long. Too long. Her mind wandered, picturing blood splattering the floor, the gargled breath of a man taking his last breath.

  “What’s the matter, princess?”

  Aqulla’s eyes shot opened as the Meta in front turned and fixed her in his sights. A slow, cruel smile spread on his face. Aqulla struggled to hold onto her vision. The screams of the people he’d murdered wrapped around her, calling for vengeance. The line moved along, but the Meta moved closer to her.

>   Claws sliding out, Aqulla fisted her hands. The sharp points of her claws dug into her palms drawing blood. The pain grounded her, brought her back from the very fine edge she was skating.

  It didn’t stop the Meta, though. He was huge, towering a good few feet above her. His eyes were dark and full of sadistic delight as he sized her up.

  “What have we here then?”

  “I might look as weak as the many women you’ve tortured and murdered, but I assure you, Meta, one step closer and it will be your last.”

  His head cocked to the side as he chuckled softly. “And how would you know who I’ve killed?”

  Aqulla considered keeping her identity secret, but it might be the only thing that would save her. She was too close to snapping, too close to slicing her claws across his throat as she screamed her death cry.

  “You’re dripping with death. I hear every scream, every whimper. They call for your blood. They want your death to be as slow and cruel as theirs. Tell me, Meta, will you run when you hear my scream?”

  His face hardened. “All right, banshee, I get the picture,” he snarled, stepping away and moving to join the end of the line.

  Aqulla relaxed her hands, letting out a breath of relief when a hand slid down her back and squeezed her ass. Blood rushed through her veins as her head filled with the urge to kill. Spinning, her knee slammed into his groin. As he collapsed, her claws found his throat. Blood dripped down his neck as she gazed into his eyes. This Meta had killed too, but in self-defense, not that it mattered much to Aqulla. Her scream was on the tip of her tongue. She’d begun to step over the line.

  He’d been watching for a while, unable to tear his eyes away from her. He couldn’t quite believe she was in the line of criminals and lowlifes. What had she done to wind up tossed in the Complex? She looked too young, too innocent. He’d be surprised if she lasted the first day.

  Yet she surprised him. Jaylon had already begun walking towards her when the Meta in front focused his attention on her. He’d faltered when she managed to handle the situation and the Meta had turned around on his own accord, but then the idiot behind her decided to get handsy. She’d already drawn blood by the time Jaylon recovered enough to shout.

  “Enough!”

  Sucking in a breath, Jaylon froze as her face turned toward him. Her eyes shone silver, her teeth bared, sharp and deadly. Her otherworldly face was both beautiful and terrifying.

  “Let him go,” Jaylon ordered.

  Her eyes narrowed, taking Jaylon in for a second longer before she released the man. The Meta stumbled back, groaning and moaning.

  Jaylon didn’t pay him a second look. His attention was solely on the young woman in front of him. Her features softened. Her eyes stopped glowing, turning smoky gray with only the tiniest flecks of silver. Apprehension marred her features as she smiled uneasily, her teeth looking as normal as his.

  “Are you just going to stand there?” demanded the Meta, one hand clutching his bleeding throat.

  Jaylon focused on the Meta behind her. “You deserved what you got. Keep your hands to yourself next time.” He then asked the woman, “What’s your name?”

  “Aqulla, Aqulla Dayshon,” she answered quietly.

  “Follow me.”

  She moved so silently, Jaylon had to glance behind himself twice to check she was there. His initial assessment of weakness was a mistake. This woman wasn’t in danger of getting hurt; in fact, he was pretty certain she was more likely to hurt those around her. Yet the look in her eyes held none of the strength he’d first seen. Maybe she wasn’t as strong as she had made out, or maybe this was all just some elaborate disguise meant to fool men like himself. The fact that he couldn’t get a read on her unsettled Jaylon. It was his greatest asset, the one thing he always relied on. A skill that had kept him alive around the Metas.

  “Where are you taking me?” Her voice was even, but it seemed forced.

  Jaylon turned on his heel and looked her up and down. He wanted to shake her, set free the secrets she held. Aqulla took a step back.

  “To the front of the queue,” he finally answered.

  “Why?”

  “So you don’t cause any more trouble.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t exactly cause the trouble.”

  “No, something tells me it just follows you around.”

  Her eyes brightened ever so slightly, and the smile on her face was crooked and enticing. “You have no idea.”

  They stopped just to the side, and he asked her to wait. Aqulla admired the way his muscles shifted beneath his uniform as he walked away. It wasn’t designed to be tightly fitted, but his shoulders filled it out. She was certain beneath the material laid layer upon layer of muscle. Not bad considering he was human—a lesser being—but the female in her could look past that. Besides, there was no harm in looking. What other entertainment was she going to find in the Complex anyway?

  Turning around, he headed back to where he’d asked her to wait.

  “Go on up. He’ll process you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  Aqulla was pretty certain his job wasn’t helping Meta’s like herself jump the queue, but she didn’t plan on complaining. The sun had reached its highest point, its heat an unforgiving bitch. She was pleased to see the back of it. Walking up to the booth, the man blurted out his first question before she had a chance to say hello.

  “Name?”

  “Aqulla Dayshon.”

  “Can you spell that for me?”

  She sighed. “A Q U double L A. D A Y S H O N.”

  “Okay, you’re in the Forest Zone, ground floor, apartment number 107. Job, waitress at Uni Café, Zeerah. Do you have any belongings?”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Do. You. Have. Any. Belongings?” he repeated in a monotone voice.

  “Go back to the job. What job? I never signed up for a job.” She shifted uneasily, her skin heating. She couldn’t have a job, and be a waitress of all things. She’d meet all different kinds of people, all different kinds of echoes.

  The man sighed dramatically, his eyes rolling. “Everyone is assigned a job. Now do you have any belongings?”

  “I need a different job, one where I’ll be alone.”

  “No can do. Belongings?”

  “Great,” muttered Aqulla. Hi, would you like a side of death with that coffee? So much for hiding for two and a half years. Aqulla lifted up her small bag, “Just this.”

  “Did you pack your own bag?”

  “Yes.”

  “At any time have you left your bag unattended or been asked to take something inside?” His monotone voice was back. Aqulla didn’t blame him she was bored of his questions, and she’d only heard them once.

  “No.”

  “Are you carrying on your persons or inside your bag any of the following prohibited items?” He tapped a large poster to his right, showing pictures of weapons and other various objects that could be used as such.

  “No.”

  “Okay then. This device contains all the information I’ve given you and a map of the Complex. Please take your belongings to the next booth for inspection, and there you’ll be given your chip.”

  “Chip?”

  His mouth thinned as his eyes bored into hers. “Move along.”

  Fine, asshole.

  Aqulla took the small translucent pad from him, and tapped its surface. A map appeared first. Pressing the small button on the side, the screen went blank and she walked forward.

  A Meta manned the next station. She couldn’t quite decide what he was, a shifter of some kind maybe. He watched her as a predator stalked prey, his smile more of a smirk as if he knew some hidden joke. He asked for her wrist and pressed a small device over her skin. His grip tightened, then his smile grew. Aqulla was unable to keep the grimace of pain from her face as the device beeped and a sharp pain burned through her flesh. “The chip?” she asked, unamused.

  “Yep
. Hover your wrist over the scanners every time you get on transport, and to open your apartment. It is also to be used for purchases. Further details are on your pad. It’s linked to your device.” Her bag was emptied, checked, and repacked. Then she was patted down and asked to walk through a scanner. When no alarms went off, Aqulla was asked to join yet another queue and follow it inside.

  She studied the map while she waited, zooming in on each section to bring up a more detailed view. There were four zones: Forest, Aquatic, Desert, and Alpine. Each zone had a commerce center, circular housing dome, and land for recreational use that spanned from housing to Main City, which stood in the center of her new home. It was where her job would be, according to the information she’d been given. Though, she was still contemplating not turning up.

  The Complex was run by four power plants, each one standing on the outside of the housing domes, and everything they would need would be grown in the four farm zones. The whole community was set out in a massive circle. Everywhere she looked were curved walls and smooth sloping sides, no sharp corners, or angles.

  Finally, Aqulla made it inside. Laughter bubbled up her throat as she was greeted by an immense billboard, its digital screen flashing a welcome message at her. ‘Welcome, pioneers of a united, peaceful, future.’ It was the picture that had caused her to laugh, a vampire and a human stood side by side, so close their bodies pressed together. The human’s arm was draped over the vampire’s shoulder, their smiles as wide as their faces and completely fake. Aqulla wondered how much the Human had been paid to cozy up to a Meta who would have normally consider him lunch.

  Continuing on, her feet hurt from all the standing she’d done, and she’d admitted to herself she was immensely grateful to the Intra for helping her skip the queue. She’d have most likely still been waiting to be processed if he hadn’t, or killed someone and been shipped back.