The Betrayed: Hybrids Novel - Book 2 (The Hybrids) by C.C. Sommerly

Author:C.C. Sommerly [Sommerly, C.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-15T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

The days passed slowly under the new regime as Branson ground us down. His training approach reminded me of Marine boot camp. With most boot camps, prescribed to the concept that they needed to tear you down and only then could build you back up. That tearing a Marine down left them raw and malleable. They were made into a stronger, tougher, and deadlier version of themselves.

Many of the hybrids were gaining confidence in their powers and growing more comfort with fighting. But that took time and time was something we didn’t have. There had been increasing false alarms, which were suspicious. A false alarm or two could be excused, but ones that occurred with a repeated frequency could not. Each alarm that was tripped was investigated and every time we sent out a squad to check it out, they found nothing.

Branson had Sherill show the group he was now calling the “civilian hybrids” the different types of weapons, including guns, whips, and swords. Each week they were trained on a new type of weapon. For the rest of us that were on the squads, we also participated, but at a more advanced level.

While the “civilian” hybrids were shown basics like how to hold a sword and the defensive moves, the more advanced of us participated in skirmishes that got very heated—something Branson encouraged. He said that a little bloodshed never hurt anyone, and we were harder to injure and kill, so we could afford to not “baby each other”. Being able to take a hit or sustain an injury and keep fighting, he’d told us, would save our lives. He wasn’t wrong, something which made me mad. I didn’t want to agree with anything he said or did. He was a bully, heavy handed, and cruel at times, but he was also effective.

The biggest impact on me was the day he stopped me and asked why I wasn’t using my wings. I didn’t understand. He saw my confusion and then explained it to me using his standard condescending tone.

“You are failing to use one of your strongest assets. It’s a waste. Are you stupid, Teagan? I didn’t think you were, but you are ignoring your ability to get the drop on enemies, to move away quickly, or to use your wings to strike them, which would probably be effective—it would be like getting hit by an oversized goose.”

I wanted to bristle at being compared to a goose, but he was right. I’m not sure why I was hesitant to use my wings; I treated them as a separate thing rather than part of me.

In addition to the weapons familiarization and skirmishes, Branson also worked with the hybrids that had alternative shapes. So, those hybrids, like Ginger, also worked on shape shifting rapidly. Together with them, the winged hybrids used our alternate shapes in battle and were taught how to incorporate our alternate shapes to get the advantage in a fight. Despite my illness, I already felt myself getting

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