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

I can tell from the palpitations of their hearts that they are experiencing the same emotion. Something akin to shock.

“What have you…done?” the woman manages, her words hanging in the air.

Others from Luther’s enclave swarm out onto the ledge only to stop dead in their tracks. The weapons trained on them would be enough to halt anyone without a death wish.

“We defended ourselves. That is all. We did not come here looking for trouble.” I gesture broadly at the carnage. “As you can see, I have lost men as well. The first to die was one of my own.”

Shot by one of my warriors—but I leave that unsaid.

Luther’s voice emerges, low and steady. “My sentries were given explicit instructions not to fire upon any of you.” He sounds mystified.

I shrug. “They seemed awful trigger-happy a few minutes ago.”

The woman’s goggles scan the scene below until they reach the black vehicle behind me. “How do you explain that?”

Murmurs ripple through her people as I half-turn to give the pile of UW bodies a cursory glance. “A kill or be killed situation.”

“Convenient.” She scoffs. “What did they do—line up for you?”

I like this one. Perhaps she will replace Victoria after the birth of my son. “When you’ve fought the goblyns as long as we have, you learn to make every shot count. But perhaps you’ve grown out of touch, perched as you are. So high and mighty.”

They need to be brought down into reality.

“There can be no excuse…for what happened here,” Luther begins, but he is interrupted by the appearance of a man in one of the bulky UW suits, shoving Luther’s people aside as he marches toward the edge of the cliff.

I curse silently. One of them is still alive. If he is able to radio the naval blockade—

Gaia knows all. I close my eyes for a moment, releasing the anxiety that twists my bowels. There is nothing to fear. If there were, Gaia would have warned me. All is going according to her plan...

The UW man’s helmet darkens in the sun, shielding his face from its scorching rays. He faces me and freezes in that posture without a sound, without another movement. He looks like a robot that has powered down.

“Would it help matters if I apologized, Luther?” My voice holds the moment. “Very well. I am sorry for the deaths of your people, and I deeply regret the loss of my own. This is not what I had envisioned upon arrival. Trust me on that.”

“I believe,” Luther says deliberately, “that you saw the arrival of the UW ambassadors as an act of war, when that was not their intention. And by your actions here, you have fulfilled your own prophecy. Now the United World government will have no other recourse but to wipe your settlement from the shores you call home. Then they will move inland, intent on destroying us all.”

As if to punctuate his statement, a low thump like a sonic boom trembles in the west, and all eyes turn to look toward the horizon. But even those of us blessed with far-sight cannot see the Shipyard from so great a distance.

The UW robot raises an arm and a gloved finger to point down at me, but he says nothing. He just stands there like an ominous statue. A frail-looking woman beside him speaks up, as if translating the gesture.

“You’ve declared war on your own people,” she says. “The Argonaus is shelling your settlement as we speak. They will land troops within the hour.”

I grit my teeth. As long as we reach Eden before the advancing UW troops, I will hold the upper hand. “Where are my men? Markus, Vincent, and the others?”

“They are inside,” Luther replies. “They are well.”

“I wish to see them. To know for myself that they are well.”

Luther shakes his head slowly. Even with his covered face and eyes, the despair in his demeanor cannot be mistaken. “After what you have done here… I told you that your people would be safe—”

“If our positions were reversed, I’m sure you would be demanding the same.”

“You’re in no position to make demands!” the woman beside Luther shouts.

“You are mistaken.” I gesture at my well-armed warriors. “But I believe we are in agreement about one thing. Enough blood has been spilled here today.”

Another low tremor rumbles in the west. I fight to control the rage burning within me at the thought of the Shipyard exploding in shards and flames, of my wives left behind, of the casualties. I clench my free hand into a fist and force myself to breathe easy, to steady my heart rate.

This is all part of Gaia’s plan. She knows best.

“Bring them.” Luther sends one of his people back into the cave. “The two he mentioned. Markus and Vincent—”

“All of them,” I correct him. “I want to see every one of my warriors and whatever possessions they had on them when they arrived. I want everyone and everything accounted for.”

Luther pauses a moment, staring down at me. Then he nods to his messenger, who dashes away into the cave’s yawning mouth.

“If you think you’re any match for United World troops, think again,” says the woman standing beside the last UW scout. Is something wrong with his helmet? Why hasn’t he spoken a word?

“What I’ve seen so far has not impressed me.” I shrug. “But don’t worry. I am not planning to take my people back to the coast for some kind of final reckoning. I am sure the goblyns will keep the UW busy if they’re foolish enough to land on shore. And while my people who remain there are not the strongest among us, you must remember: even the weakest of us are ten times stronger than anyone who breathes filtered air.”

Markus, Vincent, and every one of my warriors blessed with superhuman speed filter out onto the ridge, interspersed with Luther’s people who gasp in surprise at their sudden appearance. Luther’s messenger trails after them.

“No, we will not be going west anytime