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

He was probably right. After weeks of torture at Perch’s practiced hands, my appearance had deteriorated to what it was before, back when I’d been collared like one of Willard’s dogs. Long after it became clear that I was involved in Tucker’s absence, Perch continued to terrorize me. Even though there was no more information to be gained from the process, no new knowledge to extract from me, he’d enjoyed himself—committing unspeakable acts in that room.

But unlike over a year ago, when I’d been a groveling, sniveling creature living at Willard’s beck and call, I was now able to stand tall before them—as tall as I could, considering the bruises and reset bones. I knew more than I would ever tell them. Before Willard’s men put the shock collar on me, I’d been in constant communication with the unborn female in Tucker’s care. I knew the two incubation pods had reached their destination and were now with their rightful parents. As for Tucker, his current whereabouts were unknown.

That sound of gunfire I’d heard concerned me.

“She’s tougher than she looks,” Perch said, giving my haggard features a glance. “Believe me.”

If it had not been for the collar locked around my throat, I would have planted the thought in his mind that his genitals were on fire. I almost smiled at the thought of it.

“She’ll be fine.” Willard looked at me with uncertainty in his eyes. “We’ll be in constant communication with you, thanks to Jamison’s new…” He snapped his fingers with a sudden mental lapse.

“Relays,” Jamison said.

“That’s right. Relays.” Willard’s eyes bulged with enthusiasm. “Up to now, we haven’t been able to send the dogs long-range. Their collars would lose connectivity, and the freaks would run off, thinking they were free.” He chuckled. “They had no idea about our little safety feature.”

“Damned heads exploded!” Perch said with a snicker. “So don’t you get any ideas, little lady.”

Imagining his genitals exploding instead helped me to maintain my composure.

“You’re not stupid. Those mutos, on the other hand, have barely a brain between ’em.” Willard cleared his throat, smoothed his mustache—nervous ticks familiar to me. What did he have to be anxious about? “But that safety feature’s still in full effect.” He gestured at my steel collar, blinking with an array of remote-controlled features that included a camera to broadcast everything I saw as well as enough voltage to stop me in my tracks. It also had the added benefit of dampening my mind-reading and thought-planting abilities. “Your head will definitely burst if you go out of range without planting Jamison’s relays. And we wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?”

I frowned, vaguely curious. What were these relays they kept mentioning?

Jamison spoke up, rising to retrieve what looked like a spear from behind the couch. “This is what we’re talking about. It’s basically an iron stake outfitted with the necessary equipment to receive our remote signal and carry it another five or ten kilometers, depending on weather conditions. Unfortunately, that’s as far as we can go for now. But you keep planting one of these at regular intervals along the way, and we’ll stay in range, no matter how far you travel.”

“Which is where, exactly?” I almost didn’t recognize my own voice, it was so hoarse.

Jamison deferred to Willard and set the relay down on the carpeted floor.

“You’re going to meet our guests,” Willard said. “The UW team. They’ve had a…little trouble with their chopper, apparently, thanks to our wild muto friends out there. The five-man team is hoofing it the rest of the way in their hazard suits. The captain of the Argonaus is concerned they won’t have enough O2 to get them all the way here.” He paused. “They should be less than five hundred kilometers from Eden by now. Due southwest.”

I nodded, silent for a moment. “So I’ll need a hundred of these relays to keep my head from exploding, is that it?”

“Well now, she can count.” Perch smirked.

“We’ve got them all packed up in the back of the Hummer you’ll be driving.” Jamison seemed eager to answer. “As long as you plant one every five kilometers or so, we’ll be able to keep in contact with you,” he repeated himself, meeting my gaze briefly before looking away.

I faced Willard, my shackles clinking. “You want me to run a shuttle service.”

His grin was tight, stretching his gaunt face. “You’ll bring them back here, and we’ll continue our negotiations with the United World government. We may have lost out on the chopper, but we haven’t lost our bargaining chips.”

“The children,” I said.

“We’ve got what they want. Soon as their people see it firsthand, we’ll have ’em right where we want ’em.”

“But don’t even think about joining your sand freak friends once you’re out there,” Perch growled. “You deviate from the course we set for you, even half a klick, and that pretty little head of yours goes to pieces.”

I did my best to ignore him. “Explain to me again why you’re sending one of your dogs on this little joyride? I doubt the UW team will like being greeted by such a thing.”

The collar would require someone with a finger hovering over the muto’s voltage control to ensure the creature didn’t eat one of my limbs while I wasn’t looking.

“If we could go with you, we would,” Jamison said.

“Speak for yourself,” Perch grunted, shifting on the couch to expel some gas. A real charmer.

“Jamison’s working on the suits we’ll need once we eventually make our exodus from Eden.” Willard turned toward him. “How’s that project coming along, by the way?”

Jamison nodded. “I need more time to—”

“There you have it.” Willard clapped his hands together and rubbed them quickly. “So we’re sending one of the dogs with you instead. But don’t worry. The thing is completely tame with Perch at the controls. He’ll be camped out in the control center and will make sure the dumb muto behaves itself. And if you run into any trouble out there with the