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

flick to the rearview, and again I hear her thoughts enter my mind as if they are my own: Cain could be Lemuel’s father.

I nod to show I received the transmission. Makes sense. Males in labor sectors were sterilized, back in the day. But this Cain fellow with his four wives has a fully functional seed sack. And so would Lemuel, unless he was neutered at birth while they were living underground. Regardless, it doesn’t matter that Cain exiled the kid; if Lemuel is the man’s son, there’s no telling what may happen in our near future.

Blood ties run deep.

Harris nudges me. “Family relation, do you think? Could this young fellow be a prince among his people, and all this exile business nothing but an elaborate ruse?”

Was Margo’s thought-transmission sent on a scatter pattern? Had the doctor picked up some of it, or had he come up with this idea all on his own?

“Is there some reason why his people haven’t found us yet?” I ask Margo. “Cain doesn’t sound like the kind of guy they’d want to disappoint.”

She relays my question.

“Victoria won’t let them find us,” Lemuel says. “She’s guiding them in the opposite direction until we have reached our destination.”

Margo nods as if confirming the news. Has she heard the same from Victoria herself?

“By then, it will be daylight,” Lemuel continues. “They will return to the Shipyard—unless they feel like dealing with the goblyns.”

“The Shipyard,” Margo continues to pry information out of him. “Is that the name of your people’s settlement?”

For the first time, Lemuel smiles. He’s enjoying himself, being the center of attention, having us hang on his every word. “You’d have to see it to believe it. We live in these overturned ships—big ocean liners, some of them. They protect us from the sun during the day, and there’s plenty of food stores and water to be had, protein and hydropacks. The Shipyard is our home, thanks to whatever storm blew those vessels ashore.”

“Gaia has provided well for you.” Margo sounds like she’s bought into the kid’s belief system. “Does she also protect you from the goblyns?”

Lemuel shakes his head. “Gaia helps those who help themselves. That’s what Cain has taught us. She provided us with all the weapons we’d ever need. One of the ships had holds full of guns. So we are able to match the goblyns round for round when they attack. And we have a wall of barbed steel that surrounds our compound with sentries always on duty.” His pride swells as he shares, “I have mounted enough goblyn heads along the wall to rival any warrior in my tribe.”

“Captain Mutegi must be warned of this,” Harris whispers. “There are two factions of well-armed mutants on this continent, and we haven’t even seen Luther’s cave dwellers yet. But if that flying man is any indication, they will be a force to reckon with. And what of Eden? How well armed are they? We have no idea!”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” I argue.

“No. It’s worse!”

I shake my head. “You’re not paying attention, Doc. Margo is getting Lemuel to tell us everything we need to know. Namely, that none of these armed groups are working together. If they were, then maybe the UW would have some trouble on their hands.”

“Our hands, Sergeant. We’re all alone here!”

“For now, we don’t tell Mutegi anything. He won’t send in air support if he thinks it’ll be shot down again. We bank on the fact that while these groups are fighting among themselves, they’ll never have the strength necessary to pose a threat to the UW. Meanwhile, we pick the strongest team, and we gain their trust. We ride them all the way to the end of a successful mission.” For the thousandth time, images of my wife and kids flash before my eyes. “We go home happy.”

Harris nods. “And what about this Gaia woman? Apparently, she holds the power in this young fellow’s tribe. She is spoken of as a goddess.”

“You think she exists?”

The doctor frowns pensively. “I’ll believe it when I see it. But for such a religion to have sprouted up from nothing in a matter of months, and for these people to follow Gaia so devoutly, there must be someone who offers them answers when needed most. Whether she is still alive is another matter. This Lord Cain may be filling in the blanks at present, carrying on the mythology in her absence, if you understand my meaning.”

I have a hard time believing that Gaia, whoever she is, and the presence I encountered are one and the same. They’re nothing alike. For one thing, this Gaia is being credited with downing our chopper, while the strange voice that spoke to me in the Wastes protected me from the deformed mutants, guiding me to safety while it killed them. Why would Gaia want to destroy me and save me at the same time?

Could it be that Cain is using the Gaia myth for his own purposes? Not an uncommon practice among the power-hungry doing all they can to hold their position of power. If so, then the true Gaia may be nothing like her reputation.

“Will you go back to your people, do you think? Once all of this blows over?” Margo asks Lemuel.

“Not while Cain lives.” His reply is quick and forceful. “I won’t live another day under his tyranny.”

He jumps in his seat. Something outside has startled him.

Margo slams hard on the brakes, throwing us forward. Milton stands in the white glare of the headlights. He faces us with an outstretched palm, silently halting our progress.

“What the devil is this?” Harris demands.

Milton jogs over to Margo’s window. She depresses a pad on her armrest, and the pane of thick tinted glass retracts into her door.

“Don’t go any farther,” he warns, rubbing his gloved hands together in the cold. “Not this way. Things aren’t looking so good up ahead.”

Margo frowns, her dark eyes flitting to the rearview and back to Milton. “They’ve cut