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

Lemuel looks ready to protest, but he remains silent.

“Or you can surrender your weapons.” Samson shrugs his shoulders of flesh. “Your choice.”

The youth shakes his head and faces west, watching the dust with an expression of doomed resignation on his face.

“Luther’s just finished a town hall meeting.” Samson’s voice echoes in the cave as Margo and I follow. “Your friend Tucker was a big hit.”

“He is healing well,” she seems to echo his thoughts ahead of time.

“Yeah. He’ll be good as new in a week or two.”

“If he lives that long,” she murmurs.

Samson pauses. “I’d appreciate it if you kept out of my head,” he rumbles with half a smile. “But yeah, things are getting a little tense around here.”

“Daiyna and some of the others—they want nothing short of revenge on Eden for what was done to you.”

“Can you blame them?” He holds out his steel hands.

“You don’t count yourself among that faction.” She gazes up at the cyborg as we pass through an earthen passageway lit only by mounted glowsticks.

Samson curses under his breath. “Daiyna and Shechara are the only ones in that bunch who were actually in Eden. The rest of them…” He shakes his head. “Some people seem to need hatred as fuel. They pour all that hate on Eden and Willard’s bunch, and that faceless enemy gives them the drive they need to live.”

I listen closely, gathering as much information as I can. The benefit of having Samson as our guide: he doesn’t move any faster than I do. Yet again, I wish my audio relay was functioning, that I could speak directly to these people. But having Margo along will have to suffice.

No idea how long this visit is going to take, but we’ve got to get back on the road—assuming Luther’s people allow me to leave. I should have told Granger to get going as soon as he’s able to operate that vehicle. With or without me, they need to reach Eden.

I feel a twinge of guilt at leaving them alone—a science officer, a doctor, and an engineer. Without Morley, they’re at the mercy of their limited weapons training. But the good news: the back of that Hummer is packed with firepower.

“That many?” Samson says to Margo. I’ve lost track of the conversation between them. “Tucker mentioned a dozen, but I had no idea. And you—” He frowns down at her as he searches for the right words. “You were in charge of the...”

“I inseminated the eggs from Shechara and Daiyna with the sperm samples from you and Luther. So yes, I am as much to blame as Willard. Without me, we would not be in this situation. Willard could never have created the children on his own.”

“He would’ve killed you, if you’d refused. Nobody blames you,” the cyborg replies.

“There is no need to spare my feelings. I’m prepared for whatever the consequence will be. I ask only that I be allowed to check on Tucker and the incubation pods before Luther casts judgment and assigns my punishment. I will accept whatever he decides.”

Samson shakes his head. “I don’t make a habit of it, but in this case, I think I can speak for Luther. He doesn’t blame you for any of it. There won’t be any punishment, not for you.” He clears his throat and glances back at me before lowering his voice. “Can’t say the same for the Eden-haters, though. I’m supposed to watch out for you and Tucker, so don’t stray off.”

“Who’s watching him now?”

“People you can trust.” He holds her gaze, and she seems to believe him. The tension in her shoulders relaxes slightly.

I can’t help feeling like I’m walking into a bear’s den. There are so many factions on this continent, more than I would have thought possible. At first, it was enough of a shock to find anyone alive in these barren Wastes. But now, seeing how they’re divided—not even taking into consideration the bizarre, supernatural element—I’ve got to wonder if humankind is doomed to repeat history.

Haven’t we suffered enough death and destruction already?

Samson halts at the end of the downward-sloping passage. It branches into three corridors, each lit with the same green glowsticks mounted at intervals, staked into the walls.

“Luther’s waiting for you.” The cyborg’s deep voice resonates as he sweeps out a steel arm to usher us into the dark alcove beyond. Farther in, the faint light of a single glowstick emanates. “I’ll hang with Tucker. Find us when you’re through here,” he says to Margo. Then he faces me. “I don’t know what your intentions are, but I’ve got a feeling your government didn’t tell you half of what’s been going on since All-Clear.”

I don’t respond.

Samson gives me a hard look. “What I’m saying is, keep your mind open. Luther’s not your enemy. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of questions, whether or not your bosses want you asking them. Ask Luther. Ask him anything.” He pauses. “You’ve stepped into another world, soldier.”

Margo rests a hand on the arm of my suit. “Let’s go, Sergeant.” Nodding in deference to Samson, she steps into the dark.

I move to follow, the earthen opening barely wide enough for me to enter. The cyborg’s eyes don’t leave me.

I raise an eyebrow. Anything else? is the expression I’m going for.

Samson almost chuckles. “He might not admit it, but Luther could really use your help. We’re...sort of in a situation here. Your team’s presence has heightened the tension, if you know what I mean.”

I can put some of the pieces together without all the details. It’s old habit to spot an incendiary situation when I see one. I hold Samson’s gaze as he towers head and shoulders above me. “I’ve got a mission to complete, and this detour is not going to stop me from doing what I came here to do.”

“He’s a man on a mission,” Margo translates. Close enough.

“Understood.” Samson regards me silently.