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

"We haven't met before," she says, sounding calm for someone with obvious anger issues. "But if you're anything like your friends, then I'm going to enjoy watching you die."

I try to speak, but my words are too muffled by the ground to make much sense. She lets me up just enough to sound coherent.

"If you were going to kill us, you would've done it already."

"Is that so?" She sounds amused.

"You people have rules. You only shot the hostiles shooting at you. The rest of us get this preferential treatment. You're going to radio your superiors, and then you're going to wait here until a truck arrives to pick you up, load all your newfound loot, and take you west for the next Eurasia-bound ship." I pause. "Only I have a better idea."

She curses. But she keeps listening, her hand applying pressure on the back of my head so I know she's still the boss. She can drive my face into the dirt again whenever she sees fit.

"You go to Eden," I advise. "You take everything they've got. They've accumulated some primo stuff over the years. Only the best for those Edenites."

"They're sealed up tighter than—"

"I can get you in."

"Daiyna, don't…" Shechara pleads. The eavesdropper.

"Their leader has a bounty on my head. You show up with me, demand the bounty, that's how you get inside. The rest is up to you."

She lets go of me. I rise to face her but remain on my knees like my friends. I don't want to stand out and get myself shot. These raiders may have their rules, but I'm sure they know how to make murder look like self-defense.

"You have quotas, right? Everything you scavenge is weighed, and once you reach that arbitrary amount set by your superiors—maybe after a month or two on this wasted continent—you're allowed to go home. Back to your dome cities across the sea?"

She shrugs a shoulder. "So what?"

I lean toward her. "You plunder Eden, and you'll be going home this week."

I watch my reflection in her black face shield. My eyes are unreadable behind the goggles, but my tone is confident. And why shouldn't it be?

She nods slowly to herself. "Why the hell should I believe you?"

"Because we were already headed there. Ask them." I nod toward the three surviving bikers.

"That's right. We're going to Eden! The Promised Land. Milk and honey!" they talk over each other again.

The driver regards them for a moment, not knowing what to make of the strange-looking trio, before pointing at Cain. "You claim this badly burned fellow blew up Stack." She shakes her head at me. "How did you all end up together?"

"The same way we're going to end up with you, heading to Eden." I give her a nod. "Some situations call for strange bedfellows."

She walks away to confer with her associates. I can't hear a word any of them are saying in their huddle, but they each have a habit of turning and staring at us. I don't mind, as long as their assault rifles look the other way.

"You can't be serious about this," Shechara insists in a low tone. "Daiyna, you can't give yourself up to Perch."

"Don't think she plans to, Small Fry," Samson rumbles as quietly as he's able. "This has all the earmarks of another attempt at revenge."

I shake my head, wishing they would just shut up and trust me. "The raiders will take care of Perch. Or our three amigos will." I nod toward the cannibals. "Once I tell them Edenite meat is on the menu."

"Daiyna!" Shechara is not pleased.

"Kidding." Maybe just a little.

After their lengthy powwow, the raiders encircle us while the driver paces. "We lost one of our own today, but we took out a dozen of yours. Obviously you're looking for a way to save your necks…" She tilts her head to one side, facing me. "But I see no reason not to investigate Eden. We've scavenged all we can from the storage pockets in the city ruins. There's not much left there. High time for us to see what's available down below." She nods, and the other raiders do the same. "We have another truck on the way. Should be here by 0100. You might want to get some rest." She leans toward me. "You'll need it once we hand you over to Eden."

She and her cohorts laugh it up, seeming to think that's pretty funny. I consider telling the Wastelanders that raider flesh is back on the menu. But I don't want to get them killed in the process. Not yet, anyway.

"She's finally admitting it to herself!" Mother Lairen crows, clapping her hands. "No more denial. One of the first steps toward recovery."

Rehana ignores her, and so do I.

Shechara, Samson, and I sit on the ground in the jeep's shade and lean back against the vehicle. We let Cain continue to roast where he sits. Nobody seems to care much about his welfare, and that suits me just fine. The raiders break up into pairs and watch us in two-hour shifts. Wearing all that black, they must have one hell of a cooling system installed in those suits. None of them look uncomfortable. They remind me of…shiny beetles…

Not sure how long I nodded off for, but the sleep was deep and dream-free. Shechara nudges me in the cool darkness as headlights shine toward us. The raiders get us on our feet and keep us huddled together while they load their spoils into the fresh tractor-trailer with all its tires intact. After they finish wheeling the last of the Wastelanders' dirt bikes into the shipping container, they shove us toward the same vicinity to be locked in the dark while we make the drive inland.

But we won't be alone. Three of the raiders join us with their face shields' night vision activated, glowing a dull green against their flinty features.

As the doors slam shut behind us and the lock-bars slide into place, I take