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

Nothing Julia can say will change matters. It only makes sense that this time around, he would have planned for every contingency.

“You will be stopped,” she says without reservation. “They don’t want what you want. Cain’s people, Luther’s, the UW—even the daemons you made to feed on human flesh. Not one of them wants to die. They have the same survival instinct ingrained in them as we do.”

Jackson shrugs. “And blinded by their survival instincts, they will annihilate each other. It has happened before. It will happen again.”

The ash and sand at his feet suddenly open like a mouth ready to consume him. Laughing like a maniac, he drops into the earth as two slobbering daemons charge through the space where he stood just a moment ago. They seem to have appeared out of the air itself. Bulbous yellow eyes straining against lidless sockets, they fall upon me with daggers raised, knocking me over, all three of us tumbling with a cloud of ash into the pit I was digging.

Julia cries out in alarm, but there’s no reason she should be frightened for me. Even caught off guard, I’m too fast for these creatures.

In a split-second or two, I use the first daemon’s blade on the second, then return the favor, slitting their throats to release the thick, foul-smelling sludge that passes for their blood. I leave them twitching in the pit and climb out, wiping my hands on my dusty trousers.

“Well, that was unexpected.”

“Are you all right?” Julia says.

I hold out a hand to halt her advance. “Fine.”

“Milton—”

“You’re right. I’ve changed. I’ve had a lot of time to think about things while you’ve been gone, and I’ve realized something. We don’t need any spirits of the earth. Jackson—whatever he really is—or you, either.” I shake my head, unable to meet her gaze. She looks too much like Julia, and right now she’s grief-stricken. “Thanks for the superhuman abilities and everything. They really do come in handy. But we can take it from here. We don’t need your guidance anymore.”

I drag the lifeless daemons out of the pit and kneel to resume digging. Another meter or so should be deep enough to bury the mutilated soldier.

“If this is what you want…” Julia already sounds distant.

As does the report of heavy artillery—after the dune beside me explodes on impact. I reel to look back at the Argonaus as another shell plows into the beach, sending sand and ash sky high. A sudden alarm wails from Cain’s compound on the north side of the dunes, and a ragged voice screams at me through the smoke.

“You there! Come inside. You don’t want to die alone!”

17 Tucker18 Months After All-Clear

It’s no secret that Daiyna wants me dead—along with everybody else from Eden. And from the sound of things, she’s got more than a few supporters on her side of the fence. Luther did well assigning Samson the mighty cyborg as my personal bodyguard.

“Any chance I can get this stuff off me?” I gesture at my limbs protruding from the sand-colored tunic he gave me to wear. A filmy residue from the healing salve remains on my skin.

“Your chances of staying alive are better as long as I can see you,” Samson rumbles. He arrived at my bedside moments before to escort me to some meeting in the Homeplace’s great cavern. That’s how everybody refers to these caves, high up the side of a west-facing mountain ridge: the Homeplace. “Hurry up. Luther wants you there when the team arrives.”

I can’t help grimacing as I pull off the cloak from around my shoulders. The great cavern is close to the exterior, and this time of day, heat wafts in from the desert on dry winds. So I won’t need an extra layer. I take a moment to look over the scars healing along my abdomen and the gunshot I took to the chest, thanks to that trigger-happy sentry. Come to find out, the fellow is a card-carrying member of Daiyna’s Eden-hating faction. No surprise there.

At the time, lying out under the sun and bleeding out, I was prepared to die; but Luther and company managed to bring me back from the brink of death, and I owe them big for my new lease on life.

As far as I’m concerned, I died that day—shot point-blank and served up as Muto Lunch Special #3. So whatever Samson tells me to do, I’ll do it. They’ve been good to me here, and truth be told, I like it. Back in Eden, Willard never would have made room for someone like me in the upper ranks of his organization. But here? I can see myself being useful to Luther, and once I’ve earned their trust—hell, maybe even Daiyna’s and her bunch, to boot—I’ll go through a whole swarm of mutos to help out however I can.

“This way.” Samson leads me down the earthen corridor where green glowsticks mounted along the walls give the space an eerie light. “Stay close.”

I nod and sniff, shuffling after the big cyborg. “So, I hear we’ve got a bunch of unexpected guests now. From the coast, is that right?”

“Who told you that?”

I shrug. “I hear things.” They’ve kept me in a private alcove during my recovery, but I’m privy to snatches of conversation between the folks who tend to me, passing each other in shifts so there’s always somebody watching over me. Luther’s orders, I’m guessing. “Am I right in assuming these folks aren’t exactly your allies?”

Samson keeps his gaze fixed ahead of us. “You’d do well to mind your own business.”

“Good advice.” I do my best to keep up with his long strides, metal legs clunking along through dark patches between the glowsticks. “Will Daiyna be at this meeting?”

Samson grunts something that sounds affirmative.

“Any chance she’s found it in her heart to forgive me?”

“Nope. Why else would you need me by your side?”

Good point. “So this team of people with Margo, they’re really from the UW?” No response from Samson. I let out