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

and shaking their heads. But Luther backs me up, telling them this is the only way. We can't take on a hundred mutants, no matter how courageous we are. We're all that's left, and we have to be smart about this.

Act wisely, the spirit told me. Listen…

Milton perks up when I tell him his role. "Always wanted to use one of these." He strokes the rocket-launcher. "Jealous?" He looks at Samson.

The big man grunts. "We'll make sure nobody shoots you down."

Milton's shoulders slump a bit. "Right."

The herd of solar jeeps closes in, seeming to know right where we are. Crossing kilometer after kilometer in a purposeful approach. I strain to hear anything from the mutants themselves, but they remain silent. Easy to imagine them in their vehicles, lidless yellow eyes bulging and oozing, sharp fangs glistening in the sunlight. Weapons held at the ready with a practiced ease.

They've never mobilized in great numbers before. Shechara shakes her head as she watches them in the distance, unable to believe her eyes.

"So many…" she whispers.

In a matter of minutes, they have us surrounded. We hold still, not making a sound, doing our best to blend into the surroundings. We're close to a couple hundred meters above them, so we should be out of sight. But I'm sure Luther is praying. I hope he is.

The jeeps rip past our position, moving onward without pause, headed straight for the Homeplace ten klicks east. A massive cloud of dust drifts after the mutants, thickening as their tires kick up more dirt.

Or maybe it's the spirits, providing that screen Samson mentioned.

Either way, judging by their speed, they should be halfway to their destination within the next five minutes or so. I signal everyone to get to their feet. Time to descend the hill and follow.

"Can you see through that?" I point at the wall of dust.

Shechara shakes her head.

Listen, the spirit said.

I can hear the mutants' vehicles and visualize where they are. "I'll take the lead. Stay close."

She nods.

We pile into our pair of jeeps, some finding seats while others stand on the running boards and grip the roll bars like before. Everyone is armed, a few with more than one rifle. Milton hefts the rocket-launcher.

"I'll see if I can do it in three," he tells me.

Three grenades are all he has. "Good plan."

We take off, keeping our distance—a klick or two behind that dust screen. No one says a word, and I hope none of those mutants have the kind of hearing I do. If we're lucky, the sound of our jeeps will just blend into theirs.

"You praying?" I ask Luther, seated beside me.

"Without ceasing," he says.

I nod. "Keep it up."

14 Sera22 Years After All-Clear

Arienna takes the news fairly well. Better than I did, at any rate. She seems to accept at face value that the parents who raised her are not blood relatives, that her biological parents are from the North American Wastes, and that her eggs have been harvested monthly to create children for upper-caste Eurasian citizens. Now that her augments are offline, it shouldn't be long before she starts manifesting some kind of unique yet bizarre ability.

That's right, tree monkey. Join the club.

The problem being, of course, that the club currently boasts only three members, and it doesn't look like Erik will be visiting the other seventeen anytime soon. Because as soon as he activated that EMP burst in the palm of his hand to knock out Arienna's neural implants, a swarm of Dome 2 law enforcement drones buzzed our way through the trees.

For a split-second, I felt a bit of nostalgia at the sight of them zipping through the air with their little rotors whirring at top speed. I've missed Wink and Blink. But these aren't my buddies, and seeing eight of them whiz our way with their lights flashing and warning sirens wailing is downright intimidating.

Arienna raises her hands into the air and bows her head like a good citizen. I'm tempted to do the same to keep the drones from firing any shocker darts my way. But once they identify me as a law enforcer and Arienna as a local, we won't be targets. Erik is the one they're after.

I consider letting them have him. He's broken more laws than I care to list right now, the most recent being yet another EMP burst. Not a wise choice today, after what just went down at the Chancellor's tower.

But I understand what he's trying to do. As more of my memories return, like he promised they would, I realize how important it is for the other members of the Twenty to discover who they really are. Apparently, localized electromagnetic pulses are the only way to neutralize the augments that interfere with remembering our past...and our abilities.

Which makes me wonder about those thousand or so kids created from our sex cells. Are they displaying any unique talents yet?

"Remain calm, citizens," the drones command in unison, hovering around us in a loose cordon. They direct their high-powered flashlights at our faces in the sun-dappled gloom beneath the leafy canopy. "Please kneel, interlocking your fingers behind your heads."

Arienna and I do so. Erik scowls, fishing through his jacket pockets like he's forgotten something important.

"You're gonna want to kneel," I warn him.

He nods absently but doesn't follow suit. I'm sure he regrets it as a drone fires a dart like a miniature missile, striking his chest dead center. The shock is instantaneous, and he groans, his limbs outstretched as his entire body stiffens. Grimacing and convulsing, he hits the artificial dirt and thrashes around for a few moments before lying completely still. He looks dead.

"Enforcer Chen, why have you not deposited this violator at local law enforcement headquarters as you indicated?" the drones ask. Of course they're in contact with the guards at the maglev station and know exactly what I told them.

I lower my arms and stand, glancing at Erik flat on his back. "I'm on a special assignment to locate all