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

where hydro, rations, and supplies are concerned as well. The city ruins where we're headed will be as good a place as any to start scavenging.

After an hour or so of driving through the Wastes, we're there. Victoria steps out of the concrete sublevel of a blown-out building and greets us with a baby in each arm. Her grim demeanor suggests she already knows about our losses.

"Ten of us now," she says to me.

I nod and take Florence from her, already more confident in my baby-handling skills after Bishop's tutorial. The little one fusses at first but then settles down as I hold her close. Security—that's what we'll need in Homeplace 2.0, wherever we decide that's going to be.

What will life be like now that the daemons are gone? Without the constant threat of those flesh-eating freaks appearing on the horizon? Can we allow ourselves to relax, or will new dangers present themselves? Not sure what they'd look like, other than fellow survivors we've yet to meet. Crazy cannibals, maybe.

Bishop and Samson agree that this sublevel is a suitable place to set up camp. Perched atop a hill at the edge of the ruins, it has one entry point, plenty of cover from the sun, and provides a panoramic view of the surrounding area. We park the jeeps on the cracked street and unload our armory. Bishop organizes everything inside and makes sure we each carry a weapon of choice on our persons at all times, along with extra ammo. Just as a precaution, of course. I choose a Beretta 92 with a 15-round magazine. Because why not?

Next up: scavenging for food and supplies. We break up into pairs before heading out. My partner is Justus, that old pal from the Shipyard. I hand baby Florence to Taylor, who's staying behind with Victoria and little Boaz.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you," Victoria whispers into my ear. I assume she means telepathically. "Happy hunting."

I hesitate just a second before kissing her cheek and patting her son's head. "See you soon."

Searching the ruins takes me back to those early months I spent alone after All-Clear, talking to mountain ranges, charred skeletons, and the occasional ill-conceived pet rock. Scared out of my mind that I was going to lose it—until I did. Worst experience of my life. Being possessed by an evil spirit at the same time was just the proverbial rancid icing on an otherwise inedible cake.

Justus doesn't say much as we head out on the hunt, and neither do I. After all we've been through lately, we need some time to process it internally. Samson and Shechara head west; Luther and Bishop go north; so that leaves the southern part of town for us to pick through. Each pair takes a jeep.

The good news: it doesn't look like anybody's been through this city since All-Clear. The bad news: there's not much to find.

"What Sector would this have been?" I gesture at our charred, dilapidated surroundings as we step out of the vehicle and start walking.

"Twenty-five, maybe. Or Twenty-six." Justus pauses mid-step. "So that makes it either a labor sector or manufacturing center."

The two usually went hand-in-hand. Factories needed their labor force, and those workers needed to be housed nearby.

"So, if we're lucky, we might find a few dozen washing machines in storage." He forces a laugh, but it dies in his throat.

Survivor's guilt: What right do we have to joke around when so many of us are gone forever?

"Laborers needed to eat, same as everybody else." I survey our surroundings. We're not going to find anything above-ground here. The skeletal remains and crumbling brick don't hold any secrets; their barren, ash-covered interiors are clear to see. "Give me a second." That's all it takes to make a complete circuit of the area in a blur of speed and return to his side. "Found something."

"Alright then." He gestures for me to lead the way. "I reckon you could sweep the entire city all by yourself in just a few minutes."

Over a hundred square kilometers, give or take? Maybe an hour.

"Two sets of eyes are better than one."

He grunts noncommittally.

But he curses with appreciation and slaps me on the back when we reach the dusty storeroom underneath what might have been a business center, back in the day.

"Not bad, Milton! What do you think? Emergency shelter? Non-sanctioned bunker or some such?" He peers into the darkness. There's enough exterior light to make the shelves of hydro, protein, and vitamineral packs visible, along with cans of fuel and other supplies. "Was it locked?"

I nod. "Didn't take much to jiggle it loose."

So far, there's been no evidence of anyone living here since All-Clear, not even daemons.

"Well then." He claps his gloved hands together. "Let's load up the jeep!"

When all three scavenging parties return to Homeplace 2.0, none of us are empty-handed. After one day's hunt, we have enough to keep us fed and watered for a month, maybe two. With only eight adults and two babies, we don't need as much as we used to in order to survive. But Luther wants us to go back out for the next few weeks, until we've cleared every cache to be found. He'd like our stockpile of foodstuffs and supplies to rival our weapons.

The days that follow blur into each other like my surroundings when I'm running or flying. And I do a lot of both, scoping out the lifeless ruins as well as the desert terrain surrounding them. Hurtling through the air, covering kilometer after kilometer, I scan the entire area. On the coast, the Shipyard lies in ruin, and a single UW vessel sits out at sea, seemingly anchored there. I keep my distance and don't hover in one location for too long. If the Integrity sent that heat-seeking missile to destroy the Homeplace, I don't want to give them another target.

As days turn into weeks, we manage to accumulate enough necessities to survive the next six months, as long as we stick to