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

“Get the hell off me!” Perch bellows, straining against Bishop’s weight.

I look back at Willard on the sofa. “Some contingency plan you’ve got.”

“Be patient.” He grins. Not creepy at all.

“All right, Sergeant, you can get up now. I’ve got a bead on ‘im,” Tucker says, invisible to the naked eye as well as the cameras mounted in Eden’s ceiling. “More than one, actually.” He sniffs. “Call me Two-Gun Tucker.”

Bishop looks perplexed by the whole situation as he strains to rise.

“You’re gonna pay for this, you damn freak!” Perch roars.

“Want me to shoot you in the leg or something?” Tucker offers. “Will that shut you up?” Then to Bishop, he says, “Sergeant, you might want to take off that thing. You won’t be able to climb, otherwise.”

“Climb?” Bishop’s eyes dart toward the nearest cubicle suspended from the side of the dome. “Up there.”

“Right,” Tucker says. “Willard’s waiting for you, along with Milton and a new friend we’ve made. Well, kind of an old friend, I guess. He’s joined the cause.”

“Milton? What the hell’s going on?” Perch demands. “Some kind of sand freak reunion?” Even with two guns trained on him, he remains as contemptuous as ever.

Bishop frowns, looking down at his environmental suit. “I’ll need a little help with this.”

“Give the man a hand,” Tucker orders the driver.

Scowling and wiping his bloody nose across one sleeve, the man moves to obey without a word. Seems like he’s used to people bossing him around. I remember what that was like, back in the bunker.

“So, what’s your endgame here, Milton?” Willard’s oily voice interrupts my thoughts.

“Already told you.” My gaze doesn’t leave the monitor. The question is, will Sergeant Bishop agree with it? “We’re taking those babies to the Homeplace.”

“Don’t you think they’d be safer here? With the proper facilities?”

“With you? Not a chance.”

“You misunderstand.” Willard sighs.

“Just what are you getting at?” Jamison demands.

“Look around you. Eden is a subterranean fortress. Impenetrable.”

“I beg to differ.” Jamison nods toward me.

Willard grins again, hideous as ever. “He and his invisible friend were allowed entry. As was the United World sergeant down there. Didn’t you find it odd that our dogs left you alone? That no one got in your way?”

I half-turn to face him. “Easy to say now that we’re here. I’ve got a feeling you had no idea what we were up to until it was too late. You’ve grown complacent here in your fortress.”

“Perhaps,” Willard acknowledges. “But then again, this could be the perfect trap. For you. For your friends. For the UW troops when they arrive.”

“You’re saying you planned this?” I shake my head and return my attention to the screen. “Unbelievable.” The man has grown even more delusional over the past months.

“What I’m saying is…you would be making a grave mistake to transport the incubation chambers out west. It would make much more sense to take over Eden and make it your new Homeplace. Is that Luther’s name for it or yours? Sounds very…tribal.”

I scowl at him. “What game are you playing, Willard?”

“Oh, you’ll see. Patience is a virtue, Milton. Everything will soon become very clear.”

Is he just trying to get into our heads? If so, it’s working. Even Jamison looks unsure of himself, adjusting his grip on the handgun. I reach for the radio at my belt, something I borrowed off Ayers before locking him in his quarters.

“Tucker, let’s get moving,” I tell him. “Lock up those two and bring the sergeant up here.”

On the monitor, Bishop glances toward the empty space where Tucker stands. “Milton, what’s going on?” he demands. The driver has freed him from the upper portion of the bulky suit, and now his thick-muscled arms are out, clad in a white thermal bodysuit. He waves the driver off and sets about pulling his legs free himself.

“I could ask you the same thing, Sergeant. Climb up here as soon as you can.” I return the radio to my belt and watch as Perch gets to his feet reluctantly, scowling like a Neanderthal under his massive brow.

“That’s right,” Tucker says. “You heard the man. Head on over to your quarters so I can lock you inside.”

The driver moves to obey, but Perch remains rooted. “I think you’ve forgotten something, Tucker ol’ pal.”

Tucker sniffs. “I doubt it.”

“Oh no, I’m sure of it.” Slowly, Perch raises his left hand. It holds a remote control.

I grab my radio. “Tucker—”

“See what I’ve got here? Yeah? You know what this does?” Perch taunts.

“Don’t let him—” I start.

“Sure.” Tucker hasn’t answered his radio—probably tough with both hands holding semiautomatics. But his voice is clear through the monitor. “That’s what you use to call the dogs.”

Perch grins and nods. “I’ve added a couple new features. Including power to the nursery...”

Willard chuckles on the sofa.

“With the press of a button, life support will fail down there. Oh, and this one? It controls all the locks around here.” Perch gazes across the dome’s interior. “Every one of those doors.”

Willard is laughing out loud. Jamison looks pale.

“Shoot him, Tucker!” I shout into the radio.

“Just think how many angry Eden Guardsmen will come running. Oh, and like you said, I can also call the dogs in from the surface. As you already know, Tucker-boy, we keep them mighty hungry for occasions such as this.”

Willard howls like a maniac, kicking his feet in the air.

“Why are you tellin’ me this?” Tucker’s voice is surprisingly even. “You tryin’ to scare me or something?”

Perch shrugs his massive shoulders. “Just thought you’d want it. Can’t keep it with me if you’re planning to lock me up, right? I could make all manner of hell break loose!” He holds out the remote in the palm of his hand. “You want it or not?”

I face Jamison. “Can it do everything he said?”

His head pivots slowly. “I honestly don’t know. If he’s bluffing—”

“Oh, he’s not,” Willard wheezes hysterically. “I can assure you of that!”

“Tucker, take it,” I say. “Shoot him first if you have to.”

Perch laughs out loud, tossing his head back. “That’s