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

“I’m sorry, Lord Cain.” Asaph discards the last thumb, and it plops into the dust.

A wasted effort anyway. I’m not thinking clearly. The UW scouts never drove this vehicle. It came upon the scene as Markus and Vincent—

“What the hell are you playing at?” an angry voice booms like low thunder, and the sound of clanking metal approaches. “Is desecrating the dead part of your idiot religion now?”

Escorted by two of my warriors, Samson stomps toward the vehicle on his mechanical legs, implants grafted to his flesh and wired to his nervous system. Head, face, and torso are covered from the sun’s rays by the same loose cloth all of Luther’s people wear, but Samson’s limbs gleam out in the open like polished steel.

The word Excalibur emerges unbidden in my mind. How sharp does the cyborg keep the digits on his metal hands? Could he, on a whim, decapitate the men on either side of him in a flash of movement?

I dismiss the warriors. Only Asaph remains behind, staring at the massive cyborg.

“Could’ve saved you the trouble, if you’d asked.” Samson swings a hand toward the discarded thumbs. “They weren’t the ones driving this thing. It’s not even their vehicle.”

“Whose then?” I fold my brawny arms and stand to my fullest height. Even so, this half-human machine is nearly a head taller. Not something I am accustomed to.

What sounds like a grunt resonates in the cyborg’s chest. “You really think I’m going to volunteer that kind of information? I still can’t get over this stunt you’re pulling. Suddenly you want to join forces—but only if you’re the one calling the shots? And this after killing four of our people, not to mention these UW folks under Luther’s protection.” Samson curses. “You declare war on the United World, then you decide to enlist us against our will. You’ve got to be out of your freaking mind, Cain.”

Asaph lunges forward, rifle at the ready. “How dare you speak to Lord Cain like that?”

“Call off your Chihuahua,” Samson growls.

I can’t help smirking under my hood. “Tell me how to start this vehicle.”

Samson’s goggles remain focused on Asaph’s gun muzzle. “Why should I help you? Give me one good reason.”

“Luther is not looking well.”

“He’s fine. But having you betray his trust—”

“We have a long trip ahead, hundreds of kilometers across open terrain. We’ll have to brave the elements along with any roving bands of goblyns we come across. I expect to travel in this vehicle, in comfort, and I should expect you’d like to do the same. Walking cannot possibly be the most enjoyable experience for you. Not with legs like those.”

“They don’t bother me. I’m stronger than you are.” He nods toward my injury. “Especially now.”

“Thanks to your modifications, of course you are. But can you say the same about your leader? How far do you think Luther will be able to go before his legs give out on him?”

The cyborg doesn’t respond.

I hold out my hands. “I am not your enemy. I am your ally now—”

“Whether we want you or not.”

“Luther has desired this union for months. You have accompanied him on every visit to my settlement. Or have you forgotten?”

“You haven’t wanted anything to do with us. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Where Gaia leads, we follow.”

“And she’s leading you to Eden.”

I nod. “There might be enough room for both you and Luther in this vehicle, if we can get it running.”

“Have you asked it nicely?”

I glance at Asaph, who adjusts his grip on the rifle. The youth looks nervous in the face of this half-man, and his heart is racing. “I’ll ask you one more time, Samson. Who was driving? One of your people?”

Samson shakes his head. “It was their escort. A woman from Eden. My guess, the whole ignition system was keyed to her voice before she headed west. You won’t get that thing to move farther than a centimeter without her.”

Markus and Vincent have lined up Luther’s people in an orderly fashion at the base of the cliff. The cave cult members don’t look happy, but they take their cue from Luther. When he nods, they set down their weapons without a word. Impressive, the influence he has over them.

“Point her out to me,” I say. “Which one is this woman from Eden?”

Samson turns to look over the crowd. There are fifty-two of them, all shapes and sizes, male and female, aged between mid-twenties to late fifties—judging by the health of their hearts.

“Don’t see her,” the cyborg says. “She must’ve found another way out.”

I bristle at the suggestion and beckon to Markus. He appears before me in a blur of speed and burst of disturbed dust, crossing thirty meters in a split-second.

“All accounted for?” I demand.

“Yes, m’lord.” Markus nods. “The caverns above are vacant.”

“What about an alternate exit?”

“On the east-facing ridge—yes. But no one was there. All we found was another vehicle like this one, parked halfway down the grade.” He lowers his voice and steps closer to me. “Two may have eluded us—a man and woman, both from Eden. Word is, they carried a pair of infants. But there is no sign of them now.”

I grind my teeth. “They will not have gotten far. Take two others and track them down.”

With a nod, Markus whirls into motion, kicking up the dust behind him.

“Lose somebody?” The sound of Samson’s smirk is unmistakable behind his face covering.

“Perhaps.” My tone is cold. “Tell me about your other visitor from Eden—and about these two…infants.”

21 Milton18 Months After All-Clear

My ears aren’t working so good right now. I know there have to be sounds—violent earth-quaking explosions as the beach is shelled relentlessly by the Argonaus—but I’m hearing only low, muffled whumps. The wizened old-timer leading the way through these narrow passages of an overturned ocean liner beckons repeatedly as I jog after him. Together, we cross what was once the ceiling of an upper deck.

“You don’t want to die alone!” he shouted at me after the