Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3)

by Milo James Fowler

  Morley is slow to answer. “This piece is all we’ve got, Sergeant.”

  How can that be? “Hand it over, weapons officer.”

  “Weapon officer.” Granger chuckles. “You know, because there’s just the one.”

  “All due respect, Sergeant. But is it true that your HUD is offline? You can’t see?” Sinclair says.

  Morley uncocks the hammer. “Perhaps it should remain with me.”

  “It should remain with someone who doesn’t threaten to shoot his crewmate.” I ignore Granger’s snickering. “So hand it over before I take it from you.”

  “Look at these teeth!” Harris gasps.

  Morley groans again. “Why does he insist on touching that thing?” His boots pound the dust toward me, and he places the sidearm squarely in my hand.

  “What is it, Doc?” I shuffle toward Harris’s voice.

  “They’re—why, they’re—”

  “Fangs,” Sinclair says. Both of them sound like they’re kneeling by one of the corpses. “But they did not grow this way naturally.”

  “What do you mean?” Granger says.

  “They have been filed to points. Intentionally.”

  “What the hell for?”

  “What do you expect?” Morley keeps his distance. “They’re flesh-eaters. Plain as daylight. I don’t have to go poking and prodding the thing to see that.”

  “Flesh?” Granger’s boots shuffle. “But animals haven’t been around since before D-Day.”

  “No one said anything about animals,” Sinclair retorts. “By all indications, they are pack hunters. The sandstorm frightened them, but they will return.”

  I nod. We’re the only game in town. “Collect whatever weapons they left. Granger, check out that jeep. See if you can get it running.” I step toward Morley. “The other jeeps took off toward the east, you said?”

  “Yeah. Along the same heading we were given.”

  I blow out a sigh. Our orders haven’t changed.

  But if these fanged creatures are the survivors we were sent here to meet, then first contact has already occurred.

  Part II

  Turmoil

  5 Cain

  18 months after All-Clear

  A long time ago, in a world far different from this one, the ocean liner was queen of the seas. Magnificent, undoubtedly. But now, overturned and half-submerged in ashen sand, the rusted, charred hulk of this vessel isn’t much to look at from the outside. Just something belched onto shore by an ocean-faring world that no longer exists.

  Inside, with the grand ballroom’s dance floor now serving as a ceiling for the arched, gold-plated floor, things are entirely different. If you were to stand on your head, you could almost imagine a big band on the stage and wealthy couples swinging to the music, hand in hand and hip to hip. But it seems almost sacrilegious to imagine such things now. This place is no longer meant for parties and frivolity. Here, the faithful gather to hear the words of Gaia through her son: Lord Cain, Chieftain of Chieftains.

  This is Gaia’s Temple. These are her chosen people.

  Tonight the floor gleams like streets of gold. Candelabras hold green glowsticks which add to the otherworldly aura. The believers have gathered, sitting cross-legged and silent along the sloping floor. Every tribe is represented here, every chieftain accounted for. I stand before them, sweeping them with my gaze. I do not bother to count. I know with a glance at each chieftain that all are present.

  “My brothers and my sisters,” I begin, extending my strong hand out over the heads of those assembled. “War is upon us.”

  There is no murmur from the gathering, no gasps of shock. For as long as they have lived here beneath the shelter of these derelict ocean-faring vessels, they have known it was only a matter of time before the UW ships patrolling our coast decided to do more than hold the blockade. Even those not blessed with far-sight have seen the Argonaus from shore; it is a familiar shape on the horizon. My water-breathers overheard the captain of this ship, a man named Mutegi, in radio communication with his superiors. There was no mistaking his orders. Since All-Clear, the UW has chosen to observe my people from a distance but not interfere. This will be the status quo no longer. The UW is sending soldiers to land, and it is only a matter of time before they arrive.

  “The United World cowards have sent their first scouts inland, as we expected them to do,” my voice echoes as all listen attentively. “They came in a helicopter. Most of us are old enough to remember what such vehicles of the air looked like.”

  Lemuel, standing near the back of the large room, frowns. Of course he is too young to remember. He was born months after his pregnant mother went underground, into one of those government-issued bunkers that protected us from the fallout.

  “They came with their science and their weapons and their ignorance of Gaia’s ways. They came in pride and arrogance.” I pause, savoring the silence and the effect it has on the assembly. They hang on my words. “And mighty was their fall. Gaia used the goblyns to shoot them down from the sky!” I chuckle, baring my teeth, and everyone present echoes my laughter. “Gaia works in mysterious ways, and while we would sooner strike the head from a goblyn’s shoulders than look twice at one, we are grateful for this act. They saved us the trouble of downing the aircraft ourselves.”

  More laughter erupts from the crowd.

  “Why would they do this?” Lemuel speaks up, his young voice echoing. “The goblyns, I mean.”

  “Who are you to interrupt Lord Cain?” old Justus demands, striding toward the youth with a trembling fist raised to mete out punishment for this flagrant breach of etiquette.

  “Let him be. It’s an honest question—from one whose voice still cracks.” I watch Lemuel redden and sink to a cross-legged position as raucous laughter fills the Temple. I hold up a hand, and they quiet down. “Why do the goblyns attack us without provocation? Why do they eat the living and desecrate the dead? Gaia has told us why. They were like us, once. The United World government sent them to this continent before it was ready for them, before it was safe. They thought it was only the radiation and the residue of biological weapons that they had to be concerned with. They did not know about Gaia or her rival, the false god worshiped by Luther and his nomads. They did not know of the gifts Gaia had given us. They sent troops here with weapons and vehicles, and their own hate devoured them. Gaia turned their flesh inside-out, fried their minds with the unforgiving sun’s rays. Now they are nothing more than wild animals, acting on instinct.”

  I narrow my eyes at Lemuel. “You ask why they would blow that helicopter out of the sky. I ask you, why wouldn’t they? It carried fresh meat!”

  The throng nods and murmurs their assent. Lemuel sinks closer to the gilded floor. Old Justus seems pleased; the young pup may be learning his place.

  “There were many UW scouts on that helicopter when it crashed,” I continue. “Little remains of the hull or the engines, but the rotors somehow managed to remain intact.” Another pause, for effect. “As did five of the crew.”

  Now excited whispers of surprise pass among all present. I draw myself up, my chest swelling. I wait for the fervor of their questions to settle.

  “They are all that remain. The bodies of the others would be difficult to collect and identify, even with the most advanced retrieval systems. The goblyns hit them with a shoulder-launched missile.”

  “How did the five scouts survive?” Lady Victoria asks with mild interest from the front row, seated with my other pregnant wives.

  “They wore heavy body armor and environmental suits that protected them from the fall. Someone must have told them our air is toxic.” I chuckle and wink. Victoria smiles back at me. “But they are unarmed,” I add. “Not a weapon to be found among them.”

  “Why would they come so ill-equipped?” asks a skeptic from the crowd.

  “That is not our concern.” I square my jaw. “We must decide what to do with them.”

  “Kill them!” cries Justus with an upraised
fist.

  Many join in his exuberance, but a few voice the word retaliation with concern.

  I cannot help smirking. “Those United World warships have been bobbing impotently beyond our shore for as long as we’ve been out of the bunkers. Their scouts were shot out of the sky days ago, yet the Argonaus has done nothing to rescue them. What makes you think they give a damn?”

  “Why were they sent ashore in the first place?” Justus asks with a frown. “Some kind of suicide mission?”

  I wait for silence to reclaim the room before speaking. “Eden,” I say in a calm, cool tone. “They came for Eden...and their children.” I spit out the word.

  A faint ripple of laughter sweeps through the masses. I face my people with both arms outstretched. “Gaia will decide what is to become of those scouts. If they are to be blessed as we are, then she will decide what gifts they are worthy to possess. If the vileness of their true nature is to be exposed to the ravenous sun, then she will turn them inside-out. They will become goblyns, added to the ranks of our enemies.” I nod. “Gaia’s will be done!”

  “Gaia’s will be done,” the throng murmurs, nodding solemnly.

  All except Lemuel, who leaps to his feet. “We should send them back.”

  Justus turns sharply on the lad, who cringes but remains standing.

  I regard him coolly. “Come up here, Lemuel.”

  The young man swallows, uncertain.

  “You heard Lord Cain,” Justus hisses, striking his shoulder with a fist. “Get your ass up there!”

  Subdued laughter courses through the crowd as Lemuel awkwardly makes his way forward to where I stand. Stepping over the people sitting cross-legged all around him, he stumbles headlong until he is caught by the scruff of the neck in my vice-like grip.

  “What’s that you say?” I hold him still. “Send them back? To their ship, is that it?”

  Lemuel stiffens, looking like some kind of bizarre ventriloquist’s dummy. “They’ll leave us alone if we do. If we don’t—”

  “Are you afraid to die?” I growl.

  “Their people will kill us all. We’ll bring war on ourselves—”

  “War is already upon us.” I shove him down, and he sprawls into the front row of the assembly. Rough hands push him aside, but Lady Victoria makes a place for him beside her. She glares up at me defiantly as Lemuel folds his legs beneath him and hangs his head. I clench my jaw but say nothing to my young wife. “Their scouts crossed the border into our land! We who saw their helicopter rejoiced greatly when it burst into flames, exploding in pieces. They are the ones who have brought war—”

  Come outside. Come to me.

  I freeze mid-sentence, my mouth open. Puzzled frowns crease the brows of my people, and they glance at one another in the awkward silence.

  I turn away without a parting word. A collective murmur of disquiet reverberates against the walls as I bound up to a hatch and climb out.

  Come, my son.

  Gaia’s voice beckons, and I go willingly, pausing only to throw on my cloak. The iron door clangs shut behind me as I stride out into the cool night, inhaling gusts of ocean air that chill my lungs and calm my spirit. The moon is out full and bright, casting a ghostly pallor across the bluffs and dunes of ashen sand around me.

  She stands facing the sea. The breeze tosses her silk white garments about playfully. I approach her, striding toward the base of the dune where she stands. I wait to be beckoned closer.

  She turns and graces me with a loving smile. Gaia...

  “Mother,” I manage, hoarse with emotion as I dig my boots into the shifting sand and climb.

  “My son.” She holds out a hand to me, not to help me up, but to be taken and kissed with the deep reverence that is due.

  I kneel as I do so, bowing my head. She slips her hand free of my grasp and rests her palm on the back of my head.

  “War is coming.” Her voice is soft and tranquil. “You feel it.”

  I nod, staring at the ash between the toes of her bare feet, smooth and white as alabaster.

  “It is inevitable.” She sighs, sliding her cool hand down the side of my unshaven face, lingering under my chin. She lifts it with a strength I dare not resist. “Look at me, my son. Am I afraid?”

  I blink as conflicting desires rage within me. To look upon the face of Gaia is more than I can bear, but it is truly all I want. I swallow reflexively, feeling just as awkward as young Lemuel looked in front of the assembly.

  “No, Mother.” I gaze up at her smile, her eyes radiating warmth as her fingers drift away from my face. How long has she been standing out here alone, exposed to the night’s chill? Should I offer her my cloak? “Neither am I. You have blessed us with these gifts—our miraculous abilities make us a force to be reckoned with. We will be more than a match for the United World bastards they vomit onto our shore.” I wait for her nod of approval.

  “Will you destroy them?” She turns her gaze to the oily depths of the sea and the Argonaus in the distance.

  “Yes. Every last one.”

  “They outnumber you, my son. You will risk the extermination of your people?”

  I clench my jaw. “This is our land. They have no right to it. They chose to forsake us long ago, and they have quarantined us ever since. Let them come. Let them see how we have evolved in their absence.”

  “Do you remember your life before?”

  “I...” Shouldn’t we discuss what to do with the UW scouts?

  “Before they sealed you up in those tombs, you weren’t much older than that boy who irritates you. None of you were.” She pauses. “They locked you under the earth while they destroyed everything you knew. And now the world will never be the same. Your world, as well as theirs.” She faces me. “Did you know they cannot go outside freely?”

  I nod, averting my gaze from her direct look. I lower my head again. “They fear our air. They believe it’s contaminated.”

  She laughs softly. “Not only yours—their own air as well. The United World has been reduced to a series of domed cities on the banks of the Mediterranean Sea. They call the sprawling bubbles Eurasia. They hide behind thick walls of glass as the world goes on outside without them. They live in perpetual fear, afraid they will die out as a species without the children from this continent.”

  They do want our children. It is just as Luther said. I clench my fists, hating that the infidel was right about something.

  “Luther has told you this.”

  I glance up in surprise.

  “You cannot hide your thoughts from me, my son.”

  I should have known better. “Of course not, Mother.” I scowl for a moment, then meet her gaze. Is he right? But I refuse to vocalize the question.

  She graces me with a wan smile. “You would be stronger together, your people and his.”

  “But they serve a false god—”

  “Not false,” she reprimands me. “Another god, an ancient one no longer involved in the lives of his creation. But very real.”

  I do not understand. “You want us to join with those nomads against the United World? Is that what you ask of me?”

  She returns her gaze to the sea. “Five from that ship are here now. On your land.” She watches the warship bob upon the murky surface of the sea, far beyond the foaming breakers.

  I nod. “They crashed down...” But she knows that already. She used the goblyns—

  “Those creatures acted of their own accord. Hunger was their only motivation.”

  “Of course.”

  “The five survivors—what will you do with them?” she asks mildly.

  “I have two men following them at a distance. They appear to be continuing with their mission, heading eastward. Toward Eden.” I pause. “We await your word, Mother. We will do as you demand.”

  “Kill them.”

  I watch the sea breeze catch at her dress. Her skin glows in the moonlight. She is so beautiful, so serene. A goddess, but one who deigns to set the sole of her foot into the as
hes of Hell.

  I tremble before her power.

  “Yes,” is all I can articulate in a hoarse whisper.

  “Bring them here and stake their bodies in plain sight. Leave them to roast in the sun.”

  I glance at the Argonaus, only a small buoy in the distance to the ungifted eye; but I can discern every detail of the vessel with my far-sight. “You want them to see—”

  “Their children have grown up.” She smiles down at me with a mother’s pride. “This is your land now. They have no claim to anything on it. If they were wise, they would leave you and your offspring alone.”

  I see the knowing look in her eyes. “But they won’t.”

  “No. When they see you have killed their people, then there will be war. It will come as a tidal wave upon these shores. But you will not be alone.”

  “You will fight with us.” I nod, gazing up at her.

  “You will join Luther’s people and go to Eden. There you will be safe—all who remain of this continent’s people. There you will defend what is yours, in the concrete catacombs beneath what was once a great city.” She pauses. “The UW troops will have to deal with the goblyns—your first line of defense.”

  As will we. I cringe inwardly, knowing my doubtful thoughts are far from private.

  “Do not fear. I will go before you, blinding the goblyns’ eyes to your movement across the desert. But I will not be so gracious to the United World soldiers. They will encounter the goblyns, and those who survive will press through to the city above Eden. There, the man named Willard will have his own line of defense: goblyns he has trained as pets to do his bidding.” She smiles at the look on my face.

  “How is such a thing...possible?”

  “Willard and his people are masters of technology. They have reconstructed a life for themselves under the earth, one that you will find familiar: the world of your youth. Running water, lights and electricity. Very little is beyond them.”