Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3) by Milo Fowler (paper ebook reader .TXT) 📕

The one he snatched from Harris.

“Wait here to be slaughtered in your sleep!” Morley growls, charging as fast as the hazard suit will allow, heading west. “I’m taking the fight to them. If you’ve got any backbone left, you’re welcome to join me.”

I struggle to my feet. “Stand down, soldier,” I order, keeping my voice even. “Make an about-face before you do something you’ll regret.”

Morley doesn’t look back. “Go to hell!”

8 Tucker17 months after All-Clear

Carrying the incubation pods through the intense heat of day and bone-aching cold of night hasn’t been the hardest part of my journey across this scorched earth. Fussing over the pods’ settings and hoping the little ones are getting enough nutrients is worrisome but not intolerable. Neither is watching my shadow during the day, hoping no band of marauding mutos catches sight of it.

Nope, for me, the worst part is the silence. The loneliness. Endless days with no one to talk to. Nights I curl up in a cave or behind some sizeable rocks, unable to share anyone’s warmth. Not that I ever had much to share back in Eden, but that isn’t the point. Out here, I’m always alone, with only my thoughts to keep me company—whether I want them or not.

It reminds me of a time I’d rather forget. Locked out of the Sector 30 bunker.

For the good of the many…

Sometimes I speak to the little female strapped across my chest in her canister or the male slung over my shoulder. But I know better than to think they will—or even can—talk back to me. They’re not even born yet, after all.

So it’s with a great deal of excitement jittering through my nerves that I call out to the first human being I’ve seen in weeks.

“Hello there!” I wave broadly. My shadow mirrors my movements, elongated and distorted like a dark spirit mocking me. For the moment, I don’t care that I’m an invisible freak, just a shadow scurrying across the sand with a voice but no body to go along with it. The figure above me on the hillside, half-hidden in a makeshift outpost constructed of shale, is obviously no muto. That makes my heart glad. “Hello! Boy, am I glad to see—”

“Hold it right there!” The figure snatches up his rifle and brings the stock to his cheek, pointing the muzzle in my general vicinity. “Identify yourself!”

I keep both hands in the air. My shadow mimics me. “Hey now, no reason to get—”

“Identify yourself. Now!” The fellow looks agitated. Clutching his rifle and readjusting his hold on it, cowering behind the barricade where he commands a good view of the surrounding area, he seems either new on the job or inexperienced with first contact. Or, more likely, he’s never met an invisible man before. I can’t fault him for that. Far as I know, I’m one of a kind. “Don’t you take another step!”

I sniff and shuffle my feet. “Hey-uh, is Luther around? Maybe Milton or Daiyna?”

“Who are you?”

I could ask him the same thing. Under all that sand-colored fabric he’s wearing, it’s impossible to see what the fellow looks like. But I’m positive he wasn’t with Luther and company when they were in Eden, back when Willard and Perch tried to reverse their mutations and make them human again.

The first-edition variety of human, that is.

“How about you tell Luther I’m here? My name’s Tucker. He’ll remember me.”

“Why can’t I see you?”

I shrug. So does my shadow. “Maybe you should get your eyes checked.”

“I could shoot you down right where you stand. So you’d better answer me!”

Is he really as trigger-happy as he looks? I sure hope not. “Okay. By all appearances, I can see you’re not one of those muto-types. You know what I mean. Nasty-smelling, flesh-eating—”

“I’m no daemon.”

“Right. One of those. And neither am I, obviously. So that makes us both on the same team here, don’t you think?”

“I’m not invisible.” The sentry clears his throat—an abrupt, nervous tic. “So I’m pretty sure we’re not on the same team.” He pauses, staring through his black goggles at my shadow. “Are you a UW scout, sent inland to spy on us? Wearing some kind of invisibility cloak with light-refracting technology? Government-issued, I’ll bet.”

I laugh out loud.

“Something funny?” demands the sentry.

“It’s just—I mean, think about it. If this was UW-issued, don’t you think they would have eliminated the shadow glitch?” I wave my arms around to make my point. “Isn’t it more believable that I’m like you? Maybe just a bit more on the extreme end of things?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll lay it all out on the table for you, son. This ain’t some sort of high-tech gizmo that’s making me unseen by the naked eye. Not even close. I got like this from breathing the air out here, getting all this godawful dust into my lungs. It changed me.” I pause. “And seeing how you’re not wearing some sort of O2 apparatus, I’d wager it’s changed you, too.” I take a gamble and shuffle forward.

“I said not another step!”

I throw down my arms with impatience. “If you had any idea how many kilometers I’ve walked or what I’m carrying here, just to find myself graced by your warm welcome—”

“How do you know Luther?”

Now we’re getting someplace. I almost smile, but the expression is lost in translation. “How many of you are there now?” Enough to have a sentry posted at the perimeter of their camp. Are there others stationed nearby? Are they aiming their guns at me, too?

“I’m asking the questions here.” He readjusts his aim for the umpteenth time.

“There were only five when I last saw them: Luther, Daiyna, Milton, and two others, both augmented with mechanical implants and limbs, courtesy of our doctor.”

“You’re from Eden...” The sentry can’t hide the awe in his voice.

I shrug. “Afraid so.” Willard’s underground refuge wouldn’t have the best reputation among these folks, I imagine.

“Why have you traveled out here, disguised like that?”

“Honestly? To meet you folks and—” I turn to glance over