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

names only, eh? You people do have your quirks," Reinhart says. He notices that Daiyna hasn't relinquished her grip on his hand.

"You've met others from the west?" She keeps her voice low and even. A dangerous tone, coming from her.

"We have. It's been a couple years…" He trails off, then palms the portion of his helmet where his forehead might be. "Of course. You're looking for them. Luther, Jim, Victoria and the kids—"

"What did you do to them?" she grates out.

"Daiyna," Shechara cautions.

Reinhart doesn't try to pull his hand free. He seems to understand the situation and sees no reason to aggravate Daiyna further.

"They're alive and well. Aboard the Argonaus—Captain Mutegi insisted. They've been part of the crew for a while now. Maybe a dozen voyages so far?" He turns to his second.

The guy with the temporary jumping skills nods. "We carry shipments to Eurasia every three months."

Daiyna hasn't let go. "You're saying they work with you. Transporting this...dirt?"

Reinhart chuckles. "It's our specialty." He squares his shoulders. "There are other teams in charge of scavenge, up and down the coast. They sort through the ruins, see what's worth taking, and load it onto those freighters. Once they're ready to ship out, it takes us about a month to travel to Eurasia and back." He pauses, leaning toward her. "Captain Mutegi is working on a way to get your friends into Dome 10, located on the banks of the Mediterranean. It'll take some time, but he'll see it through. He figured making them crew would be the first step in that direction. They're hard workers."

"We'd like to see them," Shechara says with an eye on Daiyna, gauging her reaction.

"Of course," Reinhart says. "They told us others might be joining them. But like I said, that was years ago. I think they'll be real happy to see you."

Daiyna releases Reinhart's hand but continues to stare at him without much in the way of an expression. He orders his second and a couple other raiders to ready a skiff.

"Make that two." He turns toward me. "You might need your own."

"Fair enough." I wouldn't want to be the cause of any sinkage.

Reinhart orders everybody else back to their bunks, and they turn an about-face without a word between them. Weird bunch. Or maybe just well-trained and disciplined. They seem to respect their commander. So far, I can see why.

As he oversees the three in charge of getting the skiffs ready to ship out, Shechara and Daiyna flank me. Together, we walk toward the water.

"Can you believe this?" Daiyna whispers, her hand resting on the semiautomatic tucked into her belt.

"None of it," I mutter, "but it's happening anyway."

"They let us keep our guns," Shechara observes. "If he were lying, I doubt he would have."

"I've got a feeling he's telling the truth," I reply. "I'm just having a hard time believing it."

"If our people have been crew aboard the Argonaus all this time, and if they've been waiting for us to join them, then why didn't Milton fly back west and tell us about it?" Daiyna shakes her head. "It doesn't make any sense. Reinhart is hiding something."

"You don't think we should board that ship?" Shechara says.

"We need to be very careful," Daiyna replies.

"Agreed." I clear my throat as we approach the raiders waiting for us in the lapping surf.

Shechara and Daiyna climb into the skiff with a raider already at the helm. As I step into the second boat, it quickly becomes clear the small vessel has reached its load capacity. Reinhart asks if I've had much experience piloting watercraft.

"I'll manage." Since All-Clear, I've taught myself how to drive jeeps, a tractor-trailer, and, just recently, a dirt bike. Now I can add a skiff to the list.

A second raider climbs into the first boat. She'll take mine back to shore once we reach the Argonaus. Reinhart gives us a salute and turns away, probably returning to his bunk.

"Thanks," I call after him. He halts, pivoting to face me. "This isn't what we were expecting."

Any sort of kindness from strangers seems alien, or like something from another life. Back when times were simpler, before D-Day.

He nods. "You've been through a few levels of hell, I imagine. This is the least we could do. Hope you enjoy a warm reunion with your friends." He marches away up the shore.

The lead boat takes off, cutting through the low, rolling surf. I follow, keeping a light grip on the helm. The wheel, like the rest of this boat, seems awful flimsy. But it does its job, carrying my bulk across the water to the gunmetal grey warship sitting half a klick out. As we approach, a pair of sentries on night watch converge on the starboard side, right where we're headed. They wear the same armored suits as the raiders and keep their rifles at rest.

"You guys get lonely or something?" one of them calls out to our escorts.

The other one nudges him, and he straightens up. Probably catching sight of the two survivors along for the ride. And the cyborg piloting his very own craft.

"Who are they?" The second sentry adjusts his grip on the rifle.

"Friendlies. From out west." The raider steering the first skiff brings it alongside the Argonaus and gestures for a climbing apparatus to be tossed down. One of the sentries on the deck above dumps a black cargo net over the side, and it's long enough to slap the water below. "Commander Reinhart thought Captain Mutegi might like to meet them."

"At this hour?"

I keep an eye on Daiyna. She doesn't need the cargo net. With her gift, she can launch herself right out of the skiff and land on the deck above. Unlike that dust-snorting raider, her ability doesn't fade over time. But so far, there's been no talk of mutants with superhuman talents, which leads me to believe these raiders haven't seen the real deal with their own eyes—only the temporary entertainment-value variety. Hard to believe if Milton's been working aboard the Argonaus.