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

like three years, right? Hope you're not here for your eggs. We had to divert power a while back. Sealed off Margo's lab. Let everything down there rot. I'm sure it's a real mess now."

She doesn't respond.

"Well. We sure are gonna have us a good time."

The steel blast door creaks as it retracts into the ceiling, revealing the sealed airlock vestibule inside.

"Drop your gun, Mr. UW," Perch says. "Then you and Daiyna will be allowed to enter."

The raider's flashlight flicks from the intercom speaker above the door to the airlock as if weighing his options.

"Otherwise, my men will shoot you right where you stand," Perch says, "soon as that door opens."

The raider curses under his breath and backtracks toward the tunnel where we wait. He unclips the Tavor from his shoulder strap and hands the weapon to a member of his team.

"Soon as that door opens," he repeats in a whisper, and his teammate nods. Then he returns to Daiyna's side, gripping her arm above the elbow—which she surprisingly tolerates. "Ready," he says aloud.

Perch chuckles on the intercom. Not a sound I've ever wanted to hear again.

The airlock cycles open with an expanding halo of light. Three Eden Guards in O2 masks step out wearing their blue fatigues and black berets. They point assault rifles at the unarmed raider and the tunnel as they step toward Daiyna. One swings a satchel forward, and it slides across the slick concrete floor.

"Twenty hydro," says the guard. He reaches for Daiyna's other arm.

Bad idea.

She grabs him by the wrist and lunges into the air, back-flipping over his head to land behind him—nearly breaking his arm in the process. He tries to stifle a yelp but doesn't do a great job of it. His arm's bent at a painful angle, and he's unable to stop the raider from seizing his weapon and turning it on the other two Eden Guards.

They freeze. For the moment, no one fires.

"Daiyna, Daiyna…" Perch clucks his tongue on the speaker. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Go!" the raider shouts, gesturing for his two teammates at the tunnel exit to run into the airlock before the heavy door swings shut.

That leaves only four raiders in charge of us captives. Our odds are looking better.

The two raiders in the well-lit airlock force the exterior door to remain open while they get to work unlocking the interior door. In a matter of seconds, they have the vestibule wall panel torn off and a jumble of wires exposed.

"You think we haven't prepared for every eventuality?" Perch scoffs.

He must have taken a vocabulary course since we saw him last. I don't remember him being able to string more than a few words together. And they were usually of the single-syllable variety.

"Go ahead, cut those wires. Cross those other wires. You won't short anything out." He pauses. "But we may have a surprise in store…"

On cue, white smoke pours into the vestibule from above. If it's some kind of gas, the raiders won't be vulnerable to it with their helmets on.

Except it's not gas. It's liquid nitrogen.

The raiders stumble out of the vestibule in a hurry, covering their face shields with both hands. Their armored suits are now frosty white instead of black where the liquid struck them. No real damage there. But the polymer of their face shields is cracking in web-like patterns, and it won't take much to compromise the integrity.

The outer airlock door remains propped open with a rifle jammed in place, but nobody seems eager to enter. Particularly those of us without any sort of protective suit.

"You see?" Perch says as the vapor clears. "Nobody gets inside unless we want them inside. And Daiyna, we definitely want you. So let go of that guard, and let's proceed with your warm welcome, shall we?"

She shifts her hold on the Eden Guard, placing her other hand on his elbow. He groans, grimacing in pain. She's got him on the verge of bone-breakage, and he seems eager to avoid that.

"Can you get through?" one of the raiders behind me says in a low tone. "Team leader wants to know."

They must have been conferring on internal comms.

"Maybe." I shrug.

A rifle muzzle digs into my back. "Move."

The others clear a path as we pass them by. Shechara's frown deepens.

"Enjoying yourself?" I raise an eyebrow at Daiyna as I exit the tunnel. The Edenite she's holding glares up at me.

"All part of the plan." She graces me with half a smile.

"Right." There's no plan. That much is obvious.

Time for a change in tactics.

The lead raider says something obnoxious, but I ignore him. I've got my eye on the airlock's exterior door, propped open precariously with that rifle. Not sure it will hold. So I step forward and jump, grabbing onto the upper rim of the door and pulling, bending it out of shape. The hinges moan, and the entire thing shudders under the abuse. But the end result is exactly what I had in mind.

I let go and take a step back to survey my handiwork. That heavy exterior door will never shut again. All that's left to contend with is the interior airlock door—and that liquid nitrogen.

"Good work," says the lead raider, mildly impressed.

Perch curses on the intercom. "Now why'd you have to go and do a thing like that, Samson?"

I look up at the intercom's camera lens. Then I point at it with a metal index finger. "See you soon."

I grab the raider by his armored neck and hoist him up into the air over my head as I charge into the airlock. He shouts and thrashes, but I've got a solid hold on him, and I'm not letting go. His teammates surge forward and aim their guns at me, but nobody fires. Not yet. The Wastelanders whoop and cavort inside the tunnel, enjoying the show.

The liquid nitrogen rains down moments later, but I've got my raider shield in place. His armored suit catches the brunt of it, streaming off him to strike the floor