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

by Milo James Fowler

  I can see it in his eyes, what he’s about to ask. So I head him off. “Which way?”

  I’ll go with you—

  “I’m faster alone.”

  Justus nods grimly. She’s back in that ocean liner.

  Right. The one that caved in on top of itself. There’s little chance anyone would still be alive after the shelling that ship’s taken. It doesn’t even resemble an ocean liner anymore; it looks more like a crumpled soda can, sticking up out of the sand at the port and bow.

  Down the north-facing passage from the grand ballroom, Justus says. Fifteenth cabin on the right. He expects Milton the Flying Man to save the day.

  But what if Milton doesn’t want to save the day? What if Milton wants to leave these people to their fate and get the hell out of here?

  As the thought of abandoning them crosses my mind, a nauseating sense of self-loathing swims through me. Memories of my life in the bunker resurface, of being Jackson’s hangman, leading everyone into the storeroom when their number came up in the lottery. Leaving their bodies to rot on the floor after All-Clear, unable to go back inside and walk past Jackson’s corpse. All that blood—

  “You don’t have to go.” Justus has me by the arm. I can hear his voice well enough that I don’t have to read his lips. “I will. Start getting these people out.”

  “Where do you expect me to take them?” I stare at the old man, watching as hope dims in his eyes. “Back to the Homeplace? You really think Cain wants to see you again?”

  “You think he left us here to die.” Justus doesn’t look convinced.

  “You don’t?”

  “We’re wasting time—”

  “I’ll go. You just…” I glance at the others. “Get them on their feet.”

  I heave open the hatch and step outside, leaving it to clang shut behind me. The ground trembles as the Argonaus mercilessly pounds the shoreline. I cover my ears as one of the capsized ships across the sand—the fishing vessel—disintegrates on impact.

  It would be so easy to leave these people, to just forget they were ever here. The UW troops will take care of them, one way or another, when they land on shore. After they obliterate Cain’s Shipyard, they’ll poke around for any survivors. Quarantine them. Probably feed them.

  They’re not my concern. They’re not even my people.

  I can’t help remembering something Margo said before we parted company: that I don’t consider myself to be part of Luther’s people, either. Is that true?

  I have no idea. And there’s no time to wonder about it now.

  I burst into high speed and enter the ocean liner, tearing down the passageway Justus led me through earlier, whipping around corners and through identical hallways, until I reach the upside-down ballroom where the ceiling/floor has collapsed, crushing the west wall. What remains of the opening to the corridor beyond leaves only enough room for me to scramble forward on hands and knees. It would be comical if there wasn’t a pregnant woman trapped at the other end.

  How could Cain leave them here? It makes no sense. The guy must be seriously insane.

  I remember what that was like.

  Not that I recall every gory detail from when I was possessed by an evil spirit of the earth, and I suppose that’s for the best. Most of those memories are still a stomach-churning blur. But if these days Jackson is impersonating a deity calling itself Gaia, and Cain serves this Gaia with all his heart, then it stands to reason that Cain could be possessed as well.

  But didn’t Julia say the evil spirits can’t act directly on us anymore?

  Like Jackson would ever be true to his word.

  After the fact, Samson told me what I did while under the evil spirit’s influence: that I almost strangled Daiyna. If the same presence is now influencing Cain’s decision-making, then leaving a few of his own people to die is the least of our worries.

  Cain has led his warriors straight to the Homeplace. Will he declare war on Luther’s people? If the good spirits don’t intervene on their behalf, there will be a bloodbath. And after the way I dismissed Julia—or the spirit who pretends to be her—it wouldn’t surprise me if they decide to leave us crazy humans alone.

  Maybe it would serve us right.

  But it wasn’t Luther or Daiyna or Samson or Shechara or any of the others who told the spirit in as many words, “We don’t need you.” That was Milton, the hero. They shouldn’t have to suffer because of my antisocial behavior.

  If Cain, possessed by evil, is now on the warpath, then Luther’s people need the spirits’ help more than ever before. And it’ll be up to me to mend matters with the spirit world, crazy as that sounds.

  As if I have a clue where to start.

  For the moment, there’s Cain’s fourth wife to rescue. And her door is obstructed. As the ruins of the ocean liner moan and screech around me, I push and pull at the barricade. It won’t give. After the last explosion, the doorframe must have caved inward, wedging the debris firmly into place. Maybe if I had Samson’s strength, I might stand a chance against it. But no matter how fast I move in any direction, heaving and shoving, it won’t budge.

  I pound my fist against the door. No use struggling if nobody’s alive on the other side.

  “Anybody there?” I can’t be sure, but there might’ve been a scuffling sound inside the cabin. “Hello?” I pound a rapid-fire beat with both fists moving in a blur of speed.

  A shrill cry pierces the door, words that might be “Get me out of here!” but with more expletives involved.

  Amazing, that anyone could have survived inside this wreck.

  “Right.” I back away from the door and duck my head to keep from banging it against the sagging ceiling. “Step back!”

  Bracing for impact, I hurl myself in a burst of speed and slam against the door with my shoulder. I feel it give—my shoulder a bit more than the door, but the frame weakens.

  “Again!” the woman shouts.

  I ready myself for take two as a superhuman battering ram. The first attempt didn’t hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would. This time, I give it all I have.

  With a screech of splintering wood and screws torn from their mounts, the door implodes into the room with me on top of it. I cough and try to rise, but there’s a slender, muscular woman with a protruding belly holding a knife at my throat.

  “Hi there.” I rotate my head just enough to wink at her. Then I leap upward in a blur of speed, wrenching the dagger from her grasp and gripping hold of her arm.

  “Luther’s pet,” she sneers, clothed in a sweat-drenched nightgown. “The flying man?”

  “Cain’s wife,” I counter. “Left to die?”

  Deadly thunder cracks the sky outside. The vessel’s fragile remains shudder around us. Another well-placed blast, and we’ll go down with the rubble.

  “What are you doing here?” she demands.

  “Old guy sent me—Justus. Know him?”

  She pulls against my hold on her. “Why aren’t you with your people?” Her tone is edged with concern, oddly enough.

  “I was, but…” Julia brought me here, and I’m not about to try and explain that. “I’m going back to them.”

  “You will take me with you.” It’s not a request.

  “I think that’s the idea. Justus wants you out of harm’s way.” Tentatively, I let go of her arm. “We should get a move on.”

  “Cain will be the death of us all.” Her eyes blaze with intensity. “You have to stop him.”

  “First I have to get you out of here.” I take her hand and turn to lead her out into the corridor, but a fresh concussive blast shakes the ocean liner. It sways, creaking and moaning like a whale in death throes. I pull the woman close, and she curses in protest, but her strength is no match for my speed. I half-carry her up the hallway, keeping my head low and holding hers down with one hand, my other arm wrapped around her, bracing her tight against me. So tight I can feel her unborn child kick. “Hang on.”

  She clutches onto me, her strong fingers
digging in.

  “Hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

  “The sun.” She winces as we move through a shaft of brilliant light piercing a wide crack in the upper deck.

  “Right.” We pass a set of curtains draped over a wide porthole. I tear them down and toss them over her. “This’ll work for now.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “To your friends—”

  “Take me east. To Luther’s people. They have to know what Cain is planning.”

  I frown. “That’s kind of far.”

  “You’re kind of fast, from what I hear.”

  “But—”

  “Every life on this continent is in danger. If Cain succeeds, the UW will not stop until they have destroyed us, once and for all: my people, your people, the men of Eden. Even the babies.”

  “What do you know about them?” I look her in the eye. We’re face to face now, close enough to kiss—not that I’m planning on it—as I prepare to launch us up and out of a large gap in the broken superstructure ahead.

  “Cain intends to kill them.”

  What? But I shouldn’t be surprised. If Cain is indeed possessed by an evil spirit of the earth, then of course it would persuade him to do the unthinkable. Just like not-Jackson all those months ago, wanting me to blow the nuclear reactor in Eden. Now he wants Cain to destroy the United World’s last chance at a future.

  “We must go now,” Victoria insists. “There’s no time to waste.”

  She’s right about that. As the ocean liner crumbles around us under the impact of yet another salvo, I shoot forward and upward, spiraling into the sky high above the destruction, then rocketing eastward as fast as I can fly, pushing myself to the limit. Victoria screams, clinging to me as I struggle to maintain my trajectory with the added weight, adjusting our course to keep from angling off one way or the other and plowing into the crest of a passing hill.

  “I’ll take you to Luther,” I shout over the rush of the wind we’re creating. “Then I’ll go back for the others.”

  I hate leaving them there like that, but the battleship they’re hiding in looked solid enough—for now. I hope Sergeant Bishop will be able to contact the Argonaus and tell them to cease fire. It wasn’t Justus, the elders, or Cain’s wives who staked that corpse on the beach. Cain acted alone, albeit under the influence of evil.

  “Only you can overtake them!” Victoria shouts. “Cain’s fastest warriors—he will send them first to take control of Eden. They move as fast as you, but they cannot fly!”

  Well, that’s something in my favor. “How many are there? These super-fast warriors?”

  “Twenty or more.”

  Dealing with them won’t be easy. I remember overpowering Willard’s men in Eden when Luther and Daiyna were held captive, but those soldiers were mere mortals, not the gifted variety. How can I possibly overpower more than twenty super-speedy warriors and get them to rethink their actions? Without a whole lot of firepower, it’ll be impossible.

  Not that I’m keen on the idea of shooting anybody. I’ve vowed never to kill again, not after what went down in my bunker way back when.

  I almost wish I was never given these superhuman abilities. People rely on me too much to save the day, to go where others can’t. To spy and bring back intel—that’s how Luther first learned about the UW sending their people ashore. If it wasn’t for my ability to fly over the Argonaus and eavesdrop, Luther never would have known about the scouts heading to Eden.

  Maybe not such a bad thing. He never would have gone to warn Cain, and Cain never would have gotten it into his head to terminate the unborn children in Eden. A decisive blow against the UW, but a horrifying solution: to kill the only new life this continent has seen in twenty-odd years.

  I can’t let that happen.

  Will the Julia-spirit intervene somehow—with or without me, now that I’ve turned my back on her kind? I’ll need the spirits’ help if I’m going to have a chance at stopping Cain’s advance on Eden. Alone, I’ll be no match for them.

  When I stepped out of that whirlwind and sent them scurrying with their tails between their legs, I’d surprised them. That won’t happen again. Despite whatever legends are currently circulating about the flying man, I’m mortal, and I’m no one to be feared. I could be disemboweled as easily as any daemon. All it would take is a sharp blade across the abdomen. And Cain’s people are real fond of sharp objects.

  Part of me longs for death. I deserve it, and I crave the peace and quiet it might bring. But another part of me has unfortunately reared its ugly head: the part that knows the only way I’ll ever find redemption for my past is by protecting those who can’t protect themselves in the present.

  Maybe going after Cain’s warriors is a suicide mission, but at least I’ll die for a good cause. For the future.

  “How much farther?” Victoria shouts, rushing air flapping the drapes against her.

  “We’re here.” I catch sight of the Homeplace atop a sheer cliff, and I aim our trajectory straight for it.

  Margo’s Hummer sits below with its driver’s side door open. Three bodies lie on bloodstained sand beside it. Broken bodies at the base of the cliff lie in pools of their own blood. Bodies of Cain’s warriors in tattered rags lie motionlessly across the ground, facing the cliff. I take in every detail as I descend onto the ridge. I set the pregnant woman on her bare feet just inside the mouth of the cave where shadows keep the ground cool.

  There are no sentries on duty. They have fallen to their deaths. Beside them, I recognize the body of that kid Margo insisted on taking along, the one exiled from Cain’s enclave. Was he the cause of this slaughter?

  I stumble forward a step as I survey the carnage. The bodies by the vehicle are those of the UW team. Gunned down, all three of them.

  Victoria chokes as her gaze rests on Lemuel’s body. She staggers backward to brace herself against the cave wall.

  “So much death...” she murmurs.

  “Luther? Samson?” I enter the shade and tug my goggles up onto my forehead.

  My heart’s racing. Where is everybody? Were they attacked by daemons? No, the freaks would’ve eaten the remains, and those corpses are untouched, left to roast in the sun. From their positions—Cain’s people facing the ridge below, Luther’s sentries lying in crumpled heaps at the base of the cliff—it looks like they fired on each other. If so, did Cain’s warriors decimate the Homeplace before moving on to attack Eden? Will I find the bodies of my friends inside?

  I never should have left them. I should have been here. Silently, I curse the Julia-spirit for leading me off-course, taking me to the coast. What the hell was that all about?

  “Nobody’s home.” I can’t bring myself to delve deeper into the cave. I stare at the dark interior, lit only by the sickly green of glowsticks mounted along the walls.

  “No.” Victoria stands beside me, the curtains pulled around her shoulders like a cloak. Her locks of thick, golden hair spill outward around her flushed face. “She is here.”

  Before I can reply, Margo materializes out of the darkness, her footsteps echoing. “We meet at last.” She stares at Victoria with those unnerving eyes of hers, devoid of emotion.

  “You failed to protect him.” Victoria’s glassy eyes haven’t left Lemuel’s body. Her voice is thick with emotion.

  “Your people killed him. There was little I could do.”

  I frown at their interchange. “Where’s everybody else?”

  “If you go farther eastward, you will see their tracks,” Margo says.

  “Cain is taking them with him,” Victoria murmurs, as if she knows Margo’s thoughts.

  “So, you both…” I tap my temple.

  “We share a common gift.” Victoria gazes into the darkness behind Margo. “As does another one here with you.”

  “Who else is there?” I glance from one woman to the other.

  “Tucker hid us with his ability,” Margo says. “The two young ones in their incubation pods, as
well as myself. Cain’s warriors passed us by as they went about rounding up all of Luther’s people and escorting them outside.”

  “So…they’re alive.” I can breathe easier all of a sudden.

  “For now.” Victoria narrows her gaze. “It is one of the infants I sense—a female. She is also able to send her thoughts into the minds of others.”

  “Yes,” Margo says.

  How is that possible? Inside its incubation chamber, the fetus would never have breathed the dust of this world. The spirits wouldn’t have been able to bless her with superhuman abilities. Unless the abilities were transferred through her parents’ DNA. If that’s the case, and if all of the unborn children in Eden are like this one, then they’ll be no different than anybody else on this continent. Infected by some kind of bizarre mutagen, according to the UW.

  “But no one can know.” Margo faces Victoria squarely.

  “Who would I tell?” Victoria runs a hand over the swell of her abdomen.

  Someone in the shadows clears his throat. “So-uh, are you all that’s left from the coast?”

  Victoria stares, eyes widening. “Who’s there? Show yourself.”

  Tucker sniffs. “Kind of hard to do that, ma’am.”

  “He is…invisible?” Victoria blinks.

  “Along with anything he touches.” I face Tucker’s voice. “There are others on the coast. Older folks and a few women in the…same condition.”

  “How many are pregnant among you?” Margo says quickly.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Victoria replies. “The UW will destroy us all if Cain gets to Eden before we do.”

  I frown at that. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ll go.”

  “Me too.” The sound of Tucker’s feet shuffle over to my side. “Might come in handy to fly out of sight, don’t you think?”

  I can’t argue with that, but I don’t like the idea of carrying the man. Victoria’s added weight was difficult enough to manage mid-flight. “Those people on the coast are sitting ducks. The UW’s shelling the beach.”

  “We’ve heard it,” Tucker says. “I know you won’t go back to Eden, Margo, and I know you want to watch over the young ones. But you’re the only person here keyed to drive that thing.” He probably means the Hummer outside.