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

He watches me a moment longer than necessary before releasing my shoulder and turning back to the others. He's a spooky guy, that's for damn sure.

Samson lumbers our way, head covered and goggles in place. He hasn't let go of his rifle since I arrived. Slung across his broad back is a grenade launcher—something you don't see every day. Must've snagged it from one of those mutants.

"Moving out," he rumbles, his tone a bit dejected. Daiyna must have won their argument.

Luther nods, and the others start wrapping up their head coverings and retrieving their weapons. I zip up my suit and pull on my hood, fastening the face shield. I probably should have a gun, too. There's no telling what kind of freaks could be running around loose in these ruins—besides us, that is.

Shoot Luther first.

I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my fists. I don't know how much more of this I can take. They're not my thoughts. If I shoot anybody, it'll be Samson. I have nothing against Luther.

He is dangerous.

Shut up! Leave me alone!

"I'll take the rear." Samson steps past me and stands with his boots spread shoulder-width apart.

Daiyna and the other girl climb out of the sublevel first, followed by Luther, who reaches back to help me up. I stare at his hand without really seeing. It's like I'm not the one inside my own body right now. I'm not in control.

The voice in my head is taking over. I'm possessed or something crazy like that, and it's going to use my body to kill these people.

I've really got to get a grip here.

I take Luther's hand, and he pulls me up. A spasm seizes hold of my chest, but I'll live through it. I take a deep breath once I'm out in the open and look around as the pain subsides.

This place in enormous, not like any of those ghost towns I passed through on my way to the mountains. Along the InterSector—what was left of it, anyway, twisted out of shape—there were blown-out remains of diners and motels and border stations, but nothing like this. I gaze up at the deformed skyscraper skeletons, giants without internal organs. This must have been a big city before D-Day, but which one was it?

The others have already started out, so I hurry to catch up. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Samson following me close enough to make it clear he's keeping an eye on me. I wouldn't mind killing him. He reminds me of Jackson. Maybe they were brothers.

I've seriously got to clear my head.

"Where-uh...Where is it we're headed exactly?" I ask Luther.

His goggles pan the hills of rubble on either side of us as if he expects mutant cannibals to come popping out. He holds his rifle ready, but not with the same ease as Samson.

"We need a vehicle to take us back."

"Back? To the caves, you mean?"

He nods.

"But... There's nobody left." What didn't he understand about They're all dead?

He faces me. "That remains to be seen."

He doesn't trust me. None of them do.

Kill him now, before it is too late.

"What do you think we'll find?" I manage.

"I suppose it will be just as you say. But we must be certain. There may be survivors." He glances back to mark Samson's position. "They would need our help."

What if there are survivors...and they saw me run away?

More crazy thoughts. With all those hungry cannibals around, no one could have survived that onslaught. Let this bunch find their vehicle. Hell, I'll even help them. I don't have to be afraid of anything or anyone ever again. They can't do anything to me.

I'm too fast.

"I mean, do you think any vehicle we find is still going to run? It's been twenty years, right? The batteries would be dead."

He acknowledges me with another nod. "Perhaps. But our friend Samson may be able to work a miracle."

I doubt that.

"Do you believe in miracles, Milton?" Luther's goggles are trained on me, their black lenses reflecting my sand-caked face shield.

"I-uh..." What does he mean? "I really doubt anything can be brought back to life."

He watches me for a moment, then returns his wary eye to our surroundings. "Stranger things have happened, my friend."

That's true enough. And he hasn't even heard the voice in my head.

Where the hell did it come from? One minute, I'm following that guy with the super-spit through those cave tunnels. The next minute, I'm waking up in the middle of Attack of the Killer Mutants, and I've got a voice in my head—unlike any voice I've ever heard in my life. It's more like a whole crowd of voices blended together, rushing through me as strong as a river in the Preserve. It could be coming from my own thoughts, yet I know it's not.

Or have I finally lost it? I've snapped. And this is what schizophrenia feels like.

Daiyna gestures to Luther up ahead, and he nods. We've arrived at an underground parking structure, several sublevels below a skyscraper skeleton. The concrete looks stable enough, and the gnarled steel frames of the floors above don't look like they've shifted much in the past decade or so. It's a little eerie, though. Dark and silent like a tomb.

Our pace slows noticeably as we draw near.

"What do you see?" Luther asks the women as they both peer down inside.

How can they see anything in there? Beyond the first fifty meters or so—littered with the molten remains of several abandoned, long-forgotten vehicles—it's pitch black.

Then I remember. She can see in the dark. I guess the other one can too. How special.

"Nothing we can use, not on this level." Daiyna turns toward him. "We'll have to go farther down."

Nobody says it, but I know what they're thinking. Not really—I don't have that ability yet. But I can guess: It's dark and spooky down there, and it's likely we might bump into a clan of inbred mutant cannibals. A reasonable concern. For them.

I don't have to