Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3) Milo Fowler (different e readers TXT) 📖

martinis on the Mediterranean, watching the palm trees sway in the artificial breeze.” Willard claps his hands together. In his mind, everything is settled. “We’ll give the UW those tubers and let them sort things out.”

Jamison narrows his eyes. “You’re saying you don’t care if these babies turn out to be sand freaks.” He glances at me. “No offense.”

I don’t respond. I haven’t been merely human for a long time now.

“You don’t care about the next generation on this planet.” Jamison’s voice pitches with incredulity. “Whatever happened to Eden being the last bastion for all-natural humankind—the way God made us? I thought that’s what we stood for!”

You thought wrong.

I watch them, these men who will decide the fate of the little ones. Perch, the cynic. Jamison, the optimist. Willard, the survivalist. That’s all it has ever been about for him: living to see another day. Nothing has changed. But Jamison is just realizing the truth.

“We’re not the last bastion. We never were.” Willard shakes his head and curses under his breath. “Haven’t you been paying attention? While we were struggling to survive underground after All-Clear, they were still out there—the UW, Eurasia—pretending we didn’t even exist. And if we hadn’t stumbled across that shortwave radio, I’m damned sure they would have kept right on pretending.” He curses again, tightening his hands into fists. “I won’t be ignored by them anymore.”

“So, anything goes. Paying for our passage to Eurasia with innocent lives. Whatever it takes, right?”

Willard grins, but there is no humor in his eyes. “You’re welcome to stay here, Jamison. I’m not forcing any of you to come along with me.” He chuckles. “But I sure as hell ain’t sticking around, and that’s a fact.”

“That makes two of us.” Perch rises, groaning with the effort. “My bags are already packed, Captain.”

“What will you tell her?” I watch Willard closely.

“The Chancellor?” He shrugs with a wink. “How about, Come and get ’em, lady.”

Jamison looks stunned. “Before they’re even ready?”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Perch nods with approval.

“You really think they’ll take you with them—after you’ve lied to them?” Jamison’s incredulous tone returns. “When they get down here, it’ll be obvious the chambers aren’t ready for transport.”

Willard’s expression darkens. “We’re leaving this place. We’re going where we belong, to the land of the living. I’m gonna feel sunshine on my face again, even if I have to get us there myself.”

“How? Commandeer their chopper?”

“Whatever it takes. We’re going to Eurasia.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“Grow a pair, Jamison,” Perch growls. “Don’t you want to be out in the world again? Find yourself some little hottie who ain’t an infected freak? No offense.” He smirks at me.

I’m barely aware of his presence as my mind reels from the sudden turn of events. I won’t be able to get them out in time.

“How long will it take?”

Willard frowns at me. “What?”

“Until the UW envoy arrives. How long do we have?”

“Don’t know. Guess it depends on how prepared they are. If it was me, I’d have a team on one of those ships out there patrolling the coast, ready to go. Soon as they got the word, they’d pack themselves into a chopper and head inland, straight for our coordinates.”

What sort of welcome does he have planned for them? I glance at Perch, entering his mind.

“What kind of welcoming committee were you thinkin’?” Perch grins broadly as if the question is his own. “Sic some of the dogs on ’em?”

Dogs—the collared mutants Willard uses like an army of deformed automatons, wired to do his bidding.

I do my best to quell the unsettled feeling within me. I rarely force my ability on these men; I can’t remember the last time I did. From the moment Willard removed my control collar and made me swear never to use my ESP (as he called it) against him, I knew it would be tempting to do so. But I promised myself I wouldn’t become the puppet master of Eden’s men who outnumbered me thirty to one. Not until the situation demanded it.

“I should check on them.” I interrupt Willard’s laughter.

He frowns at me. “Weren’t you just down there?”

“I need to monitor their nutrient consumption. We may have to increase their intake if you’re planning to release them ahead of schedule. There may be a way to have them ready just in time.”

He stares at me as if trying to decipher something coded behind my eyes. They’re vacant, I know. I’ve seen them in the mirror. But they haven’t always been this way. Does Willard remember how they used to spark in the throes of our relentless passion?

“All right. Meet us at the radio room. You’ll want to be there when I give Chancellor Hawthorne her marching orders.”

I nod with an awkward jerk and back away, rapping on the steel door as I approach it. One of the soldiers outside hauls it open, averting his eyes as soon as he sees me. I leave the apartment, but not before Perch mutters something to Willard.

“Hell if I know what you see in that one. You’re crazy to even think of taking her with us.”

Willard may change his mind, after all, and decide to leave me behind. But it doesn’t matter, either way. I won’t be going with them, even if they somehow manage to convince the UW team to take them off this quarantined continent.

Clones. They must be at the end of their rope.

For the geniuses of the United World scientific community to consider cloning as their only chance at procreation, it would mean they have reached the very end of all viable options. Human cloning has always been illegal. Violating the UW constitution is not a matter they would have taken lightly.

Why are they giving up on the children of Eden?

Do they fear us?

They must. The fear of the unknown, that eons-old boogeyman from childhood who hides under beds and in dark closets. And even worse than the monster itself is the fear of becoming it, being transformed