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

find the others. Where's that parking garage? It could be in any direction. I'm nowhere near where we entered this city from the south. By all indications, I'm in the middle of the city ruins.

I feel naked without a weapon of any kind, rifle or spear. I'd settle for even a knife. I look around at my deformed surroundings. Sector 31, Luther said. A trade sector. There should be plenty of...just about everything. In storage, below ground—if the daemons haven't already gotten to it.

The daemons. Right. I definitely need a weapon.

Keeping low, I set a course along the edge of the street and look for any blown-out buildings with open sublevels. As I move, I can't shake the feeling that someone's watching me.

"Is it you?" I whisper, knowing better than to think the spirits will answer. They speak only when they want to. I'm not surprised or disappointed by the silence that answers me.

Milton had me by the throat. The memory returns, more vivid this time. I remember his eyes, wild yet defeated as he tightened his grip. As if he knew he was losing the battle raging inside him. But then something happened—the sound of an engine approached from the level below us. I can't remember what happened after that. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the middle of the street.

My boots skid to a halt as I look over my shoulder. What was that sound? Is someone or something following me?

I step sideways into the rubble of what could have been a restaurant at one time. It's difficult to tell. Were those tables?

When I was a little girl, I'd lie back and look up at the clouds with my sister, and we'd find all sorts of shapes and creatures. It's the same with these ruins. This could have been an auto parts store specializing in solar panels and electric cells, as far as I know. But right now, it's a fine Italian restaurant, and I can almost hear the music...

Silence. I wait a few moments longer to be sure no one's following. I thank the spirits for my gift of night-vision. The shadows provide no cover for anyone foolish enough to try and hide from me.

The ground crunches, closer this time. A footfall? Or something I disturbed as I passed by, something that hasn't been passed over in years?

I need a weapon. If only the spirits had given me claws like Luther.

I kneel and grab a jagged chunk of concrete twice the size of my hand. I hold my breath at the sound of another crunch—gravel and debris under a boot sole. Someone is tracing my steps, closing in on me. Human or daemon? Do others lie in wait down the street? I tighten my grip on the only weapon I have and weigh my chances. Should I force a confrontation or flee? I can't hide indefinitely. My tracks through the ash end here.

It's only a matter of seconds before I'm found.

"Who's there?" my voice hangs in the silence as I stand. I'm aware of my breathing, too loud, all I can hear. That and my heartbeat, throbbing in my ears. "Milton?"

The stillness of the night mocks my foolishness. Why would Milton be following me? Come to finish me off? The spirit inside him wanted to kill us all. What about the others? Did he already get to them? I can't make any sense of it. Why did the spirits want me to save him in the first place if this is how it ends?

"Are you alone?"

My heart lurches at the deep voice suddenly behind me.

"Who are you?" I whirl around, eyes darting. But no one's there.

"Don't run off. I won't hurt you."

"Prove it. Show yourself." I brandish the concrete and face the voice in the shadows.

"The dark suits me fine right now." A metallic clink echoes. "Put down your rock. Then we'll talk."

"Where are you?" Is something wrong with my eyes?

"I said drop it. I'm not fooling around here."

"Neither am I! Step out into the moonlight."

A gunshot blasts my eardrums. The rubble behind me explodes, pieces scattering in all directions. I drop the chunk of concrete.

"That's better." Another clink. He's armed and invisible. A dangerous combination. "Now answer me. Are you alone or not?"

"Yes." My voice sounds flat, not frightened. I grit my teeth to keep it that way.

"What's your name?"

"Daiyna."

"Where are you from, Daiyna?"

"Sector 50."

"A breeder? What're you doing here?"

"We were—"

"You said you were alone!" he shouts, stepping closer.

"I am." I raise my empty hands slowly. I'm no threat to him—not yet. "I am alone now. I don't know where the others are."

"How many? How many of them?"

"Three." And Milton. "Four."

"Which is it? Three or four?"

"Four." I try not to imagine an invisible gun barrel aimed between my eyes. "We were separated. I don't know where they are now."

"Why'd you come out here?" he demands.

The short version? "We needed a vehicle. Ours broke down. We were attacked, south—"

"Mutos?"

Mutants—the daemons? Who else? "Yes."

"Yeah, they can be troublesome." He curses. The ground crunches as though he's shifting his feet. "So you're all alone, and you don't know where your friends are."

If he plans to rape me, he'll get more than he bargained for, invisible or not. "That's right."

"What about that guy who left you in the middle of the street? Who's he?"

"What do you mean?" My voice catches.

"You tell me. Why would one of your friends dump you in the street back there and take off—like the wind. Never seen anybody move that fast."

Milton. He brought me to the surface and left me? Why?

"I don't know." I frown, pressing my throbbing temple. "I can't remember what happened. I woke up and saw the stars, no idea how I got there." I feel him watching me. "Which way did he go?"

"Couldn't really tell. Too fast."

I nod, trying to grasp the situation. "Are you still pointing that gun at me?"

His feet shuffle again. "Not since you dropped your rock."

My shoulders relax. Good to know. "So who