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

"I'm a ghost."

That would explain my inability to see him.

"Your friends," he says, clearing his throat. "Where'd you see 'em last?"

"We came in from the south, looking for a vehicle. Ended up in the sublevels of a parking structure, figured it might have what we needed. That's the last I saw of them." I must have blacked out.

"And you...didn't run into anybody else down there?"

The sound of an engine, bright lights... That's all I remember. "No. Why?" Do daemons live beneath the surface? Is that who came out of the darkness?

He sniffs. "No reason. Only if you did, I'd say your friends are in more danger than if they ran into the mutos."

What does he mean by that?

"I need to find them." If I can locate that parking structure, I should be able to track them from there. But I'm all turned around now, and the stars are no help to guide me. What North Star? The constellations look all wrong.

He mutters something to himself, but I can't make it out. His boots shift as though he's turning away.

"Can you point me in the right direction?" I hope I don't sound desperate.

If he wants to leave, fine. I can wait for the sun to come up and find my own way.

"You don't want to go down there."

I wait for him to elaborate. The silence runs on. At this rate, it'll be morning before I find the others.

"Why not?"

"If they were taken below, then only I can find them." His footsteps move out toward the street.

Should I follow? I have no idea who or what he is. Why the hell can't I see him? "Will you help me or not?"

The crunches stop. The impressions in the ashen dust are clear to see, but there's no one to go with them. Is he really a ghost? Of course not, that's ridiculous.

So what is he then?

"Follow me." The footprints proceed onward. "And stay close."

What choice do I have? Hide out until the sun comes up so I can get my bearings, or follow this invisible man. He didn't kill me when he had the chance. He seems to know his way around; at least that's the impression he gives. But can I trust him?

The fact that I can't see him confuses me as much as it intrigues me. Another incredible gift from the spirits? He's no daemon, that much is obvious.

"So, do you have a name?" I follow his tracks—footprints. His feet are bare. I hope he's not naked. "Or should I call you the invisible man?"

"I had a name. But nobody's used it for a while." He stops. His voice faces me. "Tucker."

I don't know where my eyes should focus in the empty space before me. "And where are you from, Tucker?"

The footprints start away, and I follow.

"Here," he says.

Sector 31. "You were a trade worker?"

He mutters to himself again. "No."

Maybe I wasn't clear. "What was your sector? Before D-Day?"

"Thirty."

So he's an engineer, one of the survivors we planned to meet up with on the way to the Preserve. But their sector was farther north. What's he doing here? Are they all hiding from the daemons? Or is he the only one left...like Milton was?

"If I tell you to take cover, you do it. No questions." He keeps moving. "Dawn's coming, and the mutos will be waking up soon."

Do daemons sleep in the sublevels beneath these blown-out buildings? I imagine them pouring out like ants as soon as the sun comes up. Not a welcome thought.

The spirits said there was nothing to fear. I'm not sure if I believe them anymore.

"How many?" From what Milton said about the attack on the caves, it sounded like all the daemons had amassed there. Have we totally underestimated their numbers?

He sniffs, mutters, "Hard to tell. They keep gettin' scared off. A whole bunch of 'em left yesterday, drove west in their jeeps. A lot of 'em are still around, though. But they can't see me."

Neither can I. All of our abilities are somehow related to the animal kingdom that thrived on this planet before D-Day: Shechara's sight, my agility, Luther's claws, Samson's strength, Milton's speed, even Plato's...spit. But where would this ability to disappear come from? What sort of creature could make itself invisible?

I try to focus on what he said. The daemons drove west, toward the caves. Milton already told us what happened, but I hoped he was wrong, untrustworthy with that evil spirit inside him. Now my hope dies within me. There won't be any survivors left.

"I walk right up to 'em and poke out their eyes sometimes. Easy targets, big as yellow ping pong balls. Took some doing to get over the smell, but they're harmless really. Long as they can't catch you."

Harmless? Obviously, Tucker has never seen anyone dear to him devoured by the hellish creatures. But I don't argue the point. He's talking, and I need to learn as much from him as I can.

"You're too fast," I offer, hoping to bait him into telling me more about his gift.

He chuckles. "I've got to be. I don't aim to be their next meal."

"Is that what happened to the other engineers?"

His tracks stop. We've reached a hill of rubble that was once part of the surrounding buildings, now a massive, dusty heap. He sniffs.

Did he hear something? I look around. Nothing moves.

"There's food in there," he says. "Down below."

Is he pointing? "Protein packs?"

"Food." His voice faces me. "The real thing. I've been eating it for months now." His invisible feet shuffle forward. "I have to remember this spot, remember, remember," he mutters.

What sort of real food would be in these sublevels? Canned goods, maybe. Has he been scavenging in the ruins of this city since All-Clear? Surviving alone. If the daemons got to everyone else from his bunker, then his gift was the only thing that saved him.

Survivor's guilt is a heavy burden to bear.

"So where are the others...from your sector?"

We venture through what was probably a busy intersection in