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

and hurl myself at him. What have I got to lose? I'm already a dead man. And I don't plan on being anybody's lab rat.

The rifle goes off with short bursts into the air as I tackle him against the helm. We wrestle for his weapon, and another burst rips across the Zodiac. Unfortunately, my escorts failed to activate the boat's bulletproof armor, having no idea they were carrying a soon-to-be dangerous fugitive. The rounds tear open the heavy-duty rubber, and air whistles outward from the deflating air chamber. The good news: plenty of other chambers remain intact, so we won't sink.

I won't sink. This marine won't be joining me.

He howls as I heave him into the water. Then I start up the outboard motor, and it growls to life. Hands on the wheel, I change course. Sergeant Bishop won't be transferring to the Integrity, and he's not welcome aboard the Argonaus. So there's only one place for him to go.

Back to shore.

Full throttle, with the wind whipping against my protective suit, it's tough to hear the radio. But Captain Mutegi's voice is clear enough.

He keeps it short: "Godspeed, James."

I nod, hoping he makes it home, that our exalted superiors allow him back inside the Domes. I've got a strong feeling I'll never see him again, either way. But he'll complete his mission. He'll get those incubators and their precious cargo to Eurasia. Because of our efforts, the civilized world will continue beyond the Terminal Age generation. Mara and Emmanuel won't be among the Ten Domes' youngest citizens anymore.

Ten minutes later, I approach the coastline. Those overturned ships are no more, reduced to rubble. The beach where they sat is littered with charred debris and countless craters from the recent shelling, courtesy of the Argonaus. If any of Cain's people survived, they won't be here.

I cut the throttle and coast the Zodiac onto shore. Once it's wedged in the wet sand, I jump out and trudge inland with no clear destination in sight. A glance over my shoulder tells me the Integrity has yet to send a retrieval crew after their lab rat—or deserter. Whichever shoe fits. The crashing waves are already sliding the Zodiac out of position. They're welcome to it.

The heat inside this suit is unbearable without environmental controls. I crack open the face shield to let in some air. The sooner I can change into the locals' attire, the better. But that will require finding said locals.

I'm walking through a disaster zone here. No signs of life.

Until I stumble across tire tracks through the soot and sand. If I had to guess, they belonged to that armored Hummer Margo was driving. Maybe she's still here, somewhere nearby—on the other side of those windswept dunes in the distance.

"Hello?" I call out as my boots maintain a steady rhythm through the wreckage.

"James, you came back."

The sight of my wife brings me to a halt.

"You again." I look away, unable to bear seeing her like this. A ghost in daylight.

More like an angel, barefoot in her white gown, with her dark hair loose around her shoulders. Smiling at me like only Emma does.

I keep my head down and walk past her.

"They won't let you return home." She doesn't sound surprised.

Of course not. From the moment I first heard her voice, I was already infected. I should have known at that point I'd never see my family again. Maybe I just couldn't allow myself to accept it.

"Looks like this is my home now." I keep moving.

"Where are you going?"

"No idea."

She glides along beside me. "You're a man on a mission."

"Not anymore." I'm adrift, lost at sea. Without purpose.

But survival is a purpose. As is avoiding the poking and prodding I was bound to receive aboard the Integrity. Exchanging a glass cage for this post-apocalyptic wasteland. Way to go, Sarge.

"You have friends here," she says. "They will be glad to see you."

"We can all suffer together." I stop and face her. "Where is everybody? Margo—"

"She was here. After you left, Milton found her. They are now escorting the sole survivors from Cain's enclave to the Homeplace."

I frown at that. "Why not Eden? That place has everything they need."

"Unfortunately, after Willard's death, Perch rallied the Eden Guard against Luther's people, driving them away. Eden is sealed off once again. Those men will live out their days underground."

"So Luther and his bunch are headed back to the Homeplace as well."

She nods.

"Alright." I pick up the pace. "Guess I am too."

"You will never make it, James. You have no water, no weapon."

And the Wastes are crawling with meat-eaters. So much for feeling invincible. I really haven't thought this through.

"What do you suggest? Another tornado ride?"

She shakes her head. "That suit you're wearing is not durable enough. It will not protect you from the whirling sand." She smiles. "We will contact Milton."

I pat my suit. "No radio, either." I glance back toward the coast, but I can't spot the Zodiac.

"No need." She smiles. "He's already on his way."

Less than a minute later, a sonic boom reverberates in the distance, and Milton the flying man soars into view. He pulls up short in mid-air, hovering maybe a hundred meters above the ground.

"You're back?" he calls down, surprised. "Something wrong? Are the babies okay?"

"They're fine, shipping out for Eurasia today," I shout up at him, but I'm not sure he can hear me. The face shield muffles my voice. I pop it open and hold it like a visor. "I'm...infected."

He glides to the ground, his boots sending up puffs of dust on impact. His gloved hands are clenched into fists as he shakes his head. "I'm so sorry, man. Your family—"

"They'll be fine." I glance at spirit-Emma. "She said everybody's headed back to your cave. Everyone who survived…" I trail off.

Milton looks at the spirit. Pretty sure he doesn't see my wife. For him, she appears as someone from his own past.

"That includes you, Sergeant," he says.

"Call me James. Deserters have no rank."

Milton steps toward me and rests