Aaron Hodges [Hodges - The Way the World Ends (The Evolution Gene Book 3)

Edited by Genevieve Lerner

Proofread by C.B. Editing

Cover Art by Deranged Doctor Designs

Copyright April 2019 Aaron Hodges.

Second Edition

All rights reserved.

The National Library of New Zealand

ISBN-13: 978-09951202-42

Aaron Hodges was born in 1989 in the small town of Whakatane, New Zealand. He studied for five years at the University of Auckland, completing a Bachelor of Science in Biology and Geography, and a Masters of Environmental Engineering. After working as an environmental consultant for two years, he grew tired of the 9 to 5 and decided to quit his job to travel the world. During his travels he picked up the old draft of a novel he once wrote in High Schooltitled The Sword of Lightand began to rewrite the story. Six months later he published his first novelStormwielder.

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Liz sat on the edge of the rooftop, her feet dangling over empty air. Her body tensed as she looked out at the city, her gloved hands gripping tight to the concrete lip. Skyscrapers rose up around her, dwarfing the nondescript apartment building on which she sat. The first glow of the rising sun lit the horizon, but San Francisco remained in shadow, all color leached away. With strict power rations in place, there was hardly a streetlight left to cast back the gloom.

It made the night perfect for hunting.

Four weeks had passed since their time at the university. Hardly a day had gone that she did not curse herself for fleeing, for running away and leaving Chris to die. Never mind that there had been nothing she could have done to save him; she blamed herself anyway.

After all, Ashley had found the courage to stay and fight. Poor, broken Ashley, who just days before had frozen at the merest sign of danger. She had been through more than any of them, had suffered alone at the hands of Doctor Halt; yet when their backs had been against the wall, it was Ashley whod stepped up. Alone, she had fought off the Chead, and given Liz and Jasmine the chance to escape.

Liz almost hated her for it.

It should have been me!

She stood suddenly, her boots balancing precariously on the thin ledge. Fists clenched, she stared down at the hundred-foot drop, her stomach swirling.

Again she saw Chriss facetight with pain, his lips drawn back in a snarl, his broken wing hanging limp. Injured and outmatched, he had thrown himself between the Chead and Ashley, determined to sacrifice himself for his friend. But Ashley had remained, and the two of them had perished in the massacre that followed.

Lizs only comfort was that theyd died believing their sacrifice had meant somethingthat their deaths had allowed their friends to expose the truth about the Chead, that the government was behind the creation and spread of the deadly virus.

Battling through their grief, Liz and Jasmine had carried the thumb drive the professor had given them back to the safe house. Tears streaming down her face, Liz had told the old woman about her grandsons fate, and offered her the thumb drive.

But Maria had turned away, rejecting her grandsons sacrifice. At the time, Liz couldnt begin to understand her reaction. Between the thumb drive and students whod witnessed Professor McKenzies discovery, not even the Director of Domestic Affairs could silence the truth this time.

Or so she had thought.

Lost and confused, Liz had looked to her friends for an explanation. Only then had Sam told her what had happened.

The story had hit the news before theyd even reached the safe house. Texas had launched a counter-attacksupposedly in retaliation for the capture of their operativeand had slaughtered hundreds of students at the University of San Francisco.

In response, the Western Allied States had declared war on the rogue state, allowing it to enact emergency wartime legislation. The media had been censored, a nationwide curfew set between the hours of 7p.m. and 7a.m., strict rations placed over the nations resources, and soldiers now patrolled the streets of San Francisco.

Worst of all, they had resumed the draft, requiring all able-bodied men and women to report to their nearest military recruitment office. One in five were to be conscripted and trained for the coming war. The process was supposed to be random, but in reality, it was rural youth they were taking.

Or so the rumors went.

Liz winced as pain flared in the palms of her hands. Fingers shaking, she saw the blood staining her white gloves. Her nails had cut straight through the fine material and pierced her skin. Sucking in a breath, she forced herself to relax. Rage bubbled in her chest, but she refused to set it free. A cold breeze blew across the rooftop, but her long black hoody and pants kept her warm. Spring was well underway, but this was San Francisco, and the wind rarely let up.

The massacre at the university had at least taught Liz one lessonthe President, the Director, the government, they would stop at nothing to win this war. No deed was too low for them, no act too foul. If the resistance wanted victory, they needed to be just as ruthless.

Watching the alleyway, Liz bent her head, listening to the telltale crunch of gravel beneath boots. The soldiers were growing closer, just a few minutes away now. Liz quickly tucked her curly black hair behind her ears, readying herself. From the noise they were making, she guessed there were no more than six.

She smiled. They didnt stand a chance.

Spreading her wings, Liz watched as the patrol turned the corner and started down her alleyway. The wind caught in her feathers, trying to pull her from the roof, but she crouched slightly, resisting its call. Her heart pounded in her ears as the soldiers drew closer. Dressed all in black, her wings the color of night, she was all but invisible to those below.

Without a sound, Liz stepped out into open space. Air whistled in her ears as she fell. She only had eyes for the soldiers. She could see them clearly now. Their youthful faces scanned the shadows, their eyes nervous, movements jumpy. It was obvious most were fresh recruits. Their sun-kissed skin proved the rumors were truethat her rural countrymen were being plucked from their beds to fight the governments war.