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

Not a pleasant thought.

I find them right where I left them, parked behind an outcropping of rock with the engine off. I didn’t know how long they’d have to wait for me to return, so conserving fuel seemed like a good idea. Judging by the extent of the vehicle’s damage, the solar cells along the roof are no longer able to provide auxiliary power—even in direct sunlight.

Dropping from the sky, I stick my landing like a pro a few meters away from the dark headlights. If Julia could see me now... I can’t help recalling my first flying lesson with the spirit of the earth taking the form of my long-lost love. Landing without crashing involved a steep learning curve at the time.

The spirit has always appeared to me as Julia, and at first it bothered me a bit, knowing she was nothing more than a projection of my own memories—filtered through a supernatural intelligence I can’t even begin to understand. But over the past few months, I’ve actually grown to think of her as being Julia—just a different version of her. Julia 2.0 or something. She never appears to me in the guise of anyone else, so the name’s stuck. She kind of likes it, I think. It gives us a connection; we belong to each other.

Or I’m losing my mind again. Always a possibility, and always something I wake up fearing. I came close, once—possessed by an evil spirit. Hard to believe, but true.

Before D-Day, back when the United World had the North American Sectors running so smoothly, producing everything the rest of the world needed overseas so they could live in the lap of luxury, there had been no such thing as good or evil. The whole concept of moral purity versus depravity was relative, depending on the belief system you subscribed to.

Not anymore. Here, on this desolate continent, there’s good, and there’s evil. The benevolent spirits of the earth—manifesting themselves to me as Julia—wish us well, having bestowed upon us certain abilities that make living in this harsh environment tolerable. Super-speed, night-vision, far-sight. Flight. The abilities themselves are derived from the animal kingdom—something I’ve never fully comprehended—since the spirits themselves originated from those billions upon billions of creatures annihilated on D-Day.

I don’t really understand that, either.

But there are also malevolent spirits of the earth who roam freely about, intent on further destruction—ultimately, extermination of the human remnant on earth. Somehow, these evil spirits are also from the animal kingdom. And when they appear to me, they manifest themselves as my psychotic bunker commander from all those years ago: Jackson. The man I killed with my bare hands…then dragged into the storeroom to lie beside all the other rotting corpses, men and women Jackson forced me to execute after a fabricated food shortage.

Julia lay among them.

The driver’s side door of the Hummer swings open, and Margo steps out. “All clear,” she says. Her look is direct, meeting my gaze and holding it.

“You read my mind.” I wink, striding toward her. “You’re not going to believe this, but Luther invited Cain’s whole bunch over for dinner, and you’re the guests of honor.” I duck to glance inside the vehicle and give the kid up front a salute. Lemuel looks away, unimpressed. The UW crew appears to be alive and un-slaughtered, so Samson’s concerns were groundless. “Whenever you want to get moving again…”

She nods, glancing eastward. “I’m not sure about this, Milton.” She lowers her voice. “Cain wants these people dead.”

“It’s not how I thought things would play out either, I’ll give you that.”

“Is Luther sure he’s doing the right thing?”

Her eyes are earnest, and even before I reply, I can tell she won’t believe me. There’s a great deal of uncertainty in my mind, courtesy of Samson and my own doubts about the situation.

“Luther knows what he’s doing. I mean, he’s kept us all alive since we escaped from Eden, and he’s been doing a great job of collecting and uniting the survivors we’ve come across since then. He wouldn’t jeopardize what he’s worked so hard to build over the past few months, I’ll tell you that much.”

She shakes her head. “His people are not unified. That could pose a problem.”

How could she know that? She’s never been to the Homeplace. She has no clue how things are going there.

“What do you mean?”

Her facial features sag. She looks defeated before she’s even begun to fight. “There are two factions among your people: those who want nothing to do with the United World and who would go back to Eden and destroy them if given the chance, and those who do not embrace their new abilities and would return to Eden to have them surgically removed, if possible. Then there are those like Luther and you, caught in the middle. Seeking peace.”

“You got all that from my subconscious?”

“You are an open book, Milton. You fear for Luther and his people. You can’t help it.”

“My people. I’m one of them now.”

She nods. “So you say. But you don’t identify with them completely.”

“Hey-uh…” the short UW fellow calls out from the backseat, leaning forward. “Are we getting this show back on the road? Guy’s gotta eat!”

I take a step back. “You should go. Just make sure you—”

“I will.” She climbs into her seat.

“Of course you will.” She already knew what I was going to say: look out for Lemuel. We have no idea how his people will react to seeing him riding with the enemy. “I’ll follow and keep a lookout ahead of you.”

She gives me another direct look that makes me feel naked before her. “Thank you, Milton.” With a weak attempt at a smile, she shuts the door and fires up the engine. The headlights flare white, blasting through the early morning darkness.

I raise a hand to shield my eyes and slide my goggles into place. As I do, I see her standing behind