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

“Speak, Xavier.” Luther nods and steps to the side. “We will listen.”

“You say we all don’t share your beliefs, and you’re right. There are many of us who don’t believe in your creator, and even more of us who don’t believe in your spirits. These mutations—” Xavier pauses to flex one arm. Bony spines jerk outward from his bicep without any signs of tissue damage. “They’re not gifts in our eyes. And we’re mighty interested in having them removed. Permanently.”

Luther clenches his jaw a moment before answering, calm as ever. “The procedure I underwent...was not by choice. Nor was it for Shechara, or for Samson.”

“They sawed off my damned arms and legs!” Samson bellows.

Xavier nods. He ducks his head a little, seeming to know his place before the cyborg. “We can only imagine how difficult it has been for you, and we sympathize. But because of you, because of your harrowing experience, we know these mutations are curable. In Eden there are men of science who would be able to—”

“They’re butchers.” Samson rises to his mechanical feet. “Look at me! You really want this to happen to you?”

Luther raises a hand. “Peace, brother. All are welcome to have their say. You will have your turn.”

“Already said all I care to.” Samson drops back onto his rock with a resounding clang.

Xavier pauses before continuing, “All we’re saying is, can’t some of us who are interested...leave the Homeplace ahead of you, before this whole thing with your babies comes to a head? We can see what the people of Eden are able to do about our mutations.”

Luther winces at the word. “You want your gifts—your abilities—taken away, when even now, the United World may be preparing to land troops on our shores? When we may need to fight for our very survival?”

“But you just said—”

“I said I would try my best to reason with the UW team, hoping they will hear us out. I have hope. I believe the spirits will be on our side, that the Creator wants what is best for us. He wants us to live.” Luther’s gaze drifts across those gathered. “We are stronger together than we ever were apart. When Daiyna, Shechara, Samson, Milton, and I escaped from Eden, we were told by the spirits that we would find others like us as we traveled west. And we have. So many of you!” He holds out his arms as if to embrace them all. Many of them have tears in their eyes, maybe at the memory of those early days, struggling to survive on their own. I sure as hell know what that was like. “We must stay together,” Luther exhorts them. “We must remain strong. And if the Creator has allowed the spirits of the earth to change us, then who are we to argue with His divine will?”

“But Luther,” Xavier persists amid the murmurs all around him, “isn’t it just as likely that what’s happened to us can be explained scientifically? And if so, if there is a medical solution, then we could be fixed—”

“You call this being fixed?” Samson bangs his arms together, and the clang brings the assembly to attention with startled gasps.

“Brother,” Luther chides him like they’re siblings.

“Sorry,” the big man rumbles.

“They don’t know about Margo,” I mutter.

Samson shoots me a glance.

“What’s that?” Xavier steps toward where I sit, his face awash with genuine interest. “What did you say, Mr. Tucker?”

“He has no voice here,” Daiyna speaks up for the first time. “He’s an outsider.”

“He is our guest,” Luther corrects her gently. For a moment, it looks as though she won’t back down. But after a glance across the way at Samson, she drops her gaze. “And if he has something to add to this discussion...”

I swallow. The moment I feared is finally here. Luther expects me to say something, and he’s not the only one. All of them do, their eyes directed my way, some with curiosity, but most with disdain. All because I was stupid enough to mention Margo.

I clear my throat.

“Careful now,” Samson advises.

I don’t need to be told twice. I can feel the stares of the Eden-haters just as hot as those who want their special abilities taken away.

“Uh, well, what Samson said is true,” I begin, rising to my feet regardless of whether anybody can see me. I rub my nose and sniff out of nervous habit, smelling only that healing salve. “Willard and his crew, sure, they’re engineers from Sector 30, but only one of them knew anything about human genetics and cybernetic transplants.” I glance at the cyborg beside me. “After what Willard’s man Perch did, she kind of put Samson back together again. But that wouldn’t work for everybody. I mean, look at me.” I shrug. “The only reason those of you with night-vision can see me right now is because of this goop all over me. It’s supposed to heal my wounds, but I’m thinking it’s to let you know where I am at all times.”

Chuckles circulate. Emboldened, I feel a few of my jitters subside.

“She?” Xavier frowns with curiosity, staring in my general direction. “I thought the engineers in Eden were all men.”

“Now, sure. But we had men and women in equal numbers, back in the day. Willard went nuts and didn’t trust the women. Killed most of them—all but Margo. She was our doctor, geneticist, you name it. Without her, none of these babies would even be alive.” I gesture at the incubation pods. “She’s the one who sent me away with them, and I’m pretty sure once Willard finds out it was her doing, he’ll kill her too.” My eyes sting unexpectedly at the thought of Margo dead. I shuffle my feet. “So if you think there’s anybody back in Eden who can help you, think again. There are plenty who’d be itching to take you apart and see how you work. If you decide to head out that way, ask for Perch. He’s a real friendly