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

I glance around the cavern at the blank faces. No more chuckles to be had. Feeling like I might’ve said too much, I drop my gaze and take my seat while murmurs roll through the assembly in waves.

Samson grunts something that might be, “Nicely done.”

“Do you have anything more you’d like to share with us, Xavier?” Luther says.

Xavier glances back at his supporters. All of them look deflated, fervor lost. Xavier shakes his head and sits down.

“Very well.” Luther clasps his hands together. “For now, we will table the topic of returning to Eden for the children—or for any other reason. The UW team should arrive within the hour, and with them, someone I believe Mr. Tucker will be very happy to see.”

I look up again to find Luther’s gaze aimed in my vicinity.

“Our friend Margo appears to be acting as their chauffeur.” Luther smiles.

I can’t quite believe what I just heard, even as my whole body melts with relief.

18 Bishop18 Months After All-Clear

The Hummer eases to a halt at the base of a sheer cliff. High above, a cave’s mouth yawns in the early morning light.

“We’re here.” Margo quietly breaks the silence that’s fallen on her passengers.

“Don’t see anybody,” Granger remarks.

“Perhaps they do not wish to be seen,” Sinclair says.

“Aren’t they expecting us?” Harris pipes up, his eyes wide behind the transparent polymer of his face shield. “That’s what the flying man said—”

“Where is he?” Lemuel strains to peer at the sky through the windshield.

“He said he’d follow us, right?” Granger glances back at me in the cargo compartment. “I don’t like the looks of this, Captain. It’s got ambush written all over it.”

I glance at the rearview mirror to find Margo’s dark eyes on me.

They are afraid, Sergeant. You need to say something.

She’s giving me orders now? What makes it worse is the delivery system, something I really can’t wrap my mind around. She seems to have no difficulty entering my head whenever she wishes.

Stay calm. I focus on the sound of the air passing through my breather as I scan the mountainside’s crags. I always know when I’m being watched—the short hairs on the back of my neck have a way of standing at attention. Like they’re doing right now. “More than likely, they’re waiting for us to make the first move.”

“So they can shoot us.” Harris curses under his breath.

I turn toward him, our helmets millimeters apart. “How about making first contact, Doc?”

“You cannot be serious,” he replies. “I am obviously the least expendable member of this team. You need me to verify the health of the fetuses once we reach Eden.”

“If need be, I could take over that duty,” Sinclair offers.

Harris blusters unintelligibly, aghast.

I almost smile at that. Sinclair isn’t just a well-trained scientist. She’s a stolid soldier, handling her injury with the dignity of a battle-weary marine.

“She’s right,” I agree. “Push comes to shove, I’m sure she could tell us all we need to know about the infants.”

“You guys deciding our next move?” Granger says.

“The good doctor has volunteered to step outside and announce our arrival,” Sinclair says.

“I beg your pardon!” Harris sputters.

“We’ll be right behind you.” I tug the rifle free from the doctor’s death grip and set it down beside my own. “We’ll do this unarmed, as a sign of good faith.”

“In whom, exactly? Superhumans fast enough to kill us before we can get off a shot?”

“Get out, Doc.” I stare him down. “That’s an order.”

Margo releases the cargo compartment door, and it drifts upward automatically. Lemuel opens his door and steps outside, boots crunching across the gravel.

“Anybody home?” his youthful voice echoes against the massive cliff face.

“That kid will be the death of us!” Harris mutters.

“After you.” I give him a shove that sends him sprawling awkwardly out of the vehicle.

“Looks like we’re on the move, folks,” Granger says. “Keep your eyes sharp.”

Margo opens the side door and helps Sinclair and Granger out, one at a time. Both lean on the vehicle, showing signs of weakness from their recent blood loss—but covering it up with extra helpings of bravado.

“Anybody?” Lemuel calls, emphasizing each syllable of the word.

“Hey kid, what’s your superpower?” Granger asks.

Lemuel pauses, uncertain. “My what?”

I face the ridge above, wishing yet again that my helmet was functional. But I have to work with what I’ve got. So I nudge Harris. “Go on. Introduce us.”

While he scowls and clears his throat, probably thinking up something eloquent to say, I keep an eye on his face shield. No life signs lighting up the HUD. So either the mutant lookouts are able to cloak their body temperature and heart rate, or there’s no one up there at all.

But that can’t be. Those hairs on the back of my neck are on high alert.

“My name is Dr. Jefferson Harris. This is Sergeant James Bishop. We represent the interests of the United World government. Milton said you would be expecting us.”

Where the hell is that flying man? Having him along right now would be helpful.

“Raise your hands,” I order, and Harris quietly relays the message to my team.

“We’re unarmed, as you can plainly see,” the doctor adds in a louder voice.

“But that vehicle of yours holds a small arsenal.” A figure garbed in loose-fitting material appears behind an outcropping of rock and holds a high-powered rifle aimed straight at Harris.

“Tell Luther we’ve arrived.” Margo steps forward, her eyes fixed on the sentry, concentrating on him.

Is she entering his mind?

“Stay out of my head, Eden bitch!” the sentry shouts. At that moment, four others armed and dressed as he is stand up and train their weapons on my team.

Margo’s boots shift backward, off balance.

“You’re a real motley bunch, you know that?” sneers a female sentry with one eye behind the scope of her sniper rifle. A red pinpoint of light jitters across my armored chest. “Two of you wounded, two sealed up tight in some kind of environmental suits. An Edenite. And a runt from the Shipyard. He’s armed, by the way. To the