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

for the nuclear winters to end and all that ash to dissipate, for the atmosphere to replenish itself. Our rations and our air weren't intended to last forever. The geeks must have designed an alternate exit somewhere in the bunker below, some kind of underground passageway. We just haven't looked hard enough for it.

We're not rats in a maze with only one route to the cheese. And once we've found our emergency exit, we'll go as far away as it takes us—hundreds, thousands of kilometers away from this alien world and its mutant dust.

"Maybe they got caught in a storm or something," Tucker offers with a shrug. "Like that other time."

I clench my teeth and attempt a smile, acknowledging his remark.

That other time. Two weeks ago. She came back from scouting with three of the other women. The jeep was caked in dust so thick the vehicle didn't even look like one of ours anymore. They were covered in it, too. Every centimeter of their jumpsuits, their O2 masks, their gloves, their boots—the stuff clung to them like paste. She said a sandstorm had come out of nowhere as they were driving back to the bunker. The dust engulfed them, and despite cowering in their seats and covering their heads, the stuff had managed to get into everything, even through the impenetrable polymer of their masks.

That's when I knew something wasn't right. Wasn't natural.

"There they are." Tucker points, moving to step outside.

"Wait."

He halts, glancing back at me with a frown behind his clear face shield. I squint into the weak light. The jeep should be sending up a plume of dust behind it, enough to turn us all into mutants. What did Tucker see?

"There." He points again.

I see them. Four small shadowy figures heading toward us. On foot.

"Where's the jeep?" I curse. If she's left it behind, there will be hell to pay.

"Must've run out of juice."

"The sun just went down." I shake my head. "They would've had reserve power."

He steps outside, the sole of his boot landing with a puff of dust.

"Get back in here, Tucker."

He glances over his shoulder at me. "They might need some help."

Clenched fists tremble at my sides as fury boils in my belly. "Get in here," I grate out.

He hesitates, and for a moment it looks like he's going to try his luck with me. But then he drops his head a little and steps back across the steel threshold. Dust sticks to his boot like fungus.

"You'll need to clean that off." Just the sight of it turns my stomach.

What was he thinking? What's gotten into him lately? Maybe he's gotten into her, and she's turning him into one of them.

I'll have to keep an eye on him. Might need to put him down for his own good.

The shadow-figures enlarge, taking shape as they approach, their waving locks of hair caught in the cool breeze. Their O2 masks are off, swung down at their sides with every sauntered step. She knows I'm watching. She's rubbing my nose in their blatant insubordination.

I curse under my breath. How much has she inhaled by now?

"What's that?" Tucker turns toward me as if I said something.

"Get the hose. Take care of your boot first."

He nods, heading down the corridor to the elevator like a good lap dog. He'd better stay that way if he knows what's good for him.

"Well look here, ladies. Willard's come up to welcome us back. How sweet!"

She struts toward me like the leader of a wolf pack. The other three chuckle, their faces cracking with the dust covering their skin.

"Where's the jeep?" My jaw muscle twitches.

"What's that?" She cups her ear. "I can't quite hear you with that stupid mask on. You know there's O2 out here, right?" More cackling from the others.

"The jeep. Where is it?"

They approach within a few meters and stop. Only then do I notice the wet splatters across their jumpsuits.

"Let's see. How do I put this?" She bites her cheek, hand on her hip. "We ran into a little trouble, you might say."

"Not much," adds one of the others. They all laugh.

I don't have time for this crap. "If you've damaged it, you'll pay with your rations."

"You hear that, girls? Willard's gonna put us all on a diet." She turns and pushes out her posterior. "You think I'm fat, Willard?"

I grit my teeth and wait. After she's had her fun, she'll tell me. I have to be patient—and not react.

She moves toward me, her hips exaggerated in their movement. "You never used to complain about my fat." She gropes herself suggestively. "We always had a lot of fun, you and me. Isn't that right? A lot of fun." She winks suggestively.

"Don't come any closer." I swallow. She's covered in dust, and it doesn't seem to bother her one bit. But what's this other stuff splattered all over her? "Tucker's bringing the hose."

I yell over my shoulder to hurry him up.

She snickers. "Paranoid as ever."

"What's that on you?" If only there was more light. It looks like—

"Yeah. About that." She takes a deep breath, sober now. "We're not alone, Willard."

What the hell does that mean?

"Got the hose," Tucker mutters, trudging up the narrow hallway from the elevator.

"Let 'em have it." I gesture toward the women, and they brace themselves.

Tucker grimaces, twisting the valve at the end. The hose bucks in his hands as the air blasts outward, but he's got it under control. With a short warning, he turns it on the women.

Water would be more ideal, obviously, but this is the best we can do for now. They'll need to scrub their skin down with a few hydropacks before we let them inside. And we'll need to wash out the suits. Tucker can't do anything about the stains, so I send him below after he's done with his part.

"You know the drill," I tell her. Now they have to strip down.

"Gonna watch?"

The thought of it repulses me.

"What's come over you lately, Willard?" She frowns as she pulls the zipper