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

behind anywhere, not anymore. Not for long. I'm with you for the long haul, Milton ol' buddy."

"We were just admiring your handiwork." Julia glances back at the uncovered cannibal.

"Not bad, eh? They never saw it coming." He slaps at his pant legs and returns to his full height, as tall as ever. "So you haven't been up into the caves yet?"

Why would I want to? "I have a pretty good idea what's in there."

"Probably looks a lot like what you'd find in the Sector 43 bunker. Only these corpses are a bit fresher. What's left of 'em, anyway." He chuckles and clears his throat. "But let's take a look-see. You never know. One or two might've made it. And you could redeem yourself, be the big hero come to the rescue!"

I turn to Julia. "Did any of them make it?"

She shakes her head. Her shoulders rise and fall. "I don't know, Milton."

"Of course she does!" Jackson guffaws. "Why else would she bring you way out here? She wants you to let go of the past, right? Isn't that her mantra? Well, what better way than to make up for what you did?" He backs away, beckoning me to follow. "C'mon, let's go take a look around."

Julia stands rooted, her posture unchanged as I take a step after him.

"Aren't you coming?"

"You don't have to go with him, Milton. You have a choice." Then she's quiet, subdued like she used to get in the bunker when she thought about home and her family.

"I have to know." If there's even one who's made it, who's still alive up there—

"You're not going to like what you see. He'll use it against you."

"Let's cut the melodrama. I don't have all day, and I'm pretty sure they don't, either." Jackson starts climbing the steep grade. "How long is a human able to go without water?"

I feel my pocket. There's a hydropack in it, maybe two.

"You'll...still be here." I watch Julia as I follow Jackson.

"I'm not going anywhere, Milton. You're stuck with me, too."

I look back at her as I trudge away. She watches me go. But as the climb becomes more arduous, I have to focus on the shifting gravel beneath me.

"If you want to fly on up, I'll meet you there," Jackson tosses over his shoulder.

"I'm fine."

He chuckles. "Avoid doing it whenever you can. Next thing you know, she'll be giving you a harp and a halo. And we both know they wouldn't suit you."

"Am I dead?"

He glances back, his face shield glinting in the sun. "Are you?"

"You are."

"True enough. You laid me out straight and cut me open real good, from what I recall. A little overkill, but I'll chalk that up to years of repressed emotions." He pauses. "If I'm dead, how the hell am I here now?"

"You're not." I nearly slip but catch myself with one hand. "I'm imagining you."

He laughs out loud. "Then you've sure got one hell of an imagination! Wow, I'm just a hallucination, huh?" His laughter subsides. "You're okay with that?"

"With what?"

"Being out of your freakin' mind!"

I hate him. I killed him once, and I'll do it again. Then it'll be just Julia and me, and we'll do whatever we want without his interference. He'll never come between us again.

"Sorry, Milton." He regains his composure. "It's just ironic, that's all. You spent all those months after All-Clear afraid you were going crazy. And now, despite your best efforts, you're completely insane. Spending your last days with a couple of dead ol' pals!"

"We were never friends. Not you and me."

"Oh yeah? Who was it that kept you alive? All those years in the bunker, who kept your name out of the lottery?"

I clench my teeth together. "There was never a food shortage. You lied to us. You made me kill them!"

"Don't kid yourself, Milton. You knew what you were doing. You liked the fact that you were making it to the very end with more than enough to keep your belly full—before and after All-Clear. Nobody forced you to do anything. You did it because you knew it had to be done. And you never had a problem with it—not until Julia."

"You knew I loved her. You couldn't stand it."

"She makes you weak, Milton. She'll lead you to your own ruin."

I shouldn't be talking to him. I need to think, to figure out a way to kill him. But what is he?

I keep quiet for the rest of our climb, and he does the same. Eventually, we reach the open mouth to the caves, a rock ledge with foul-smelling darkness beyond. Bodies everywhere. Some of them partially intact. Most have limbs missing and half-devoured entrails spilling from their open bellies. A layer of dust covers them all.

I can't go in there.

Jackson navigates his course around the bloody remains, careful not to step on anything but blood and rock. He stops and half-turns toward me, the sunlight still on him for the moment, shining from his face shield.

"You owe it to them," he says.

I could have saved them all. There are mutant corpses here too, gutted and skewered on spears. I wouldn't have saved them. Only the friends of Daiyna, Luther...and Samson. But Samson was Jackson, wasn't he? And wasn't Daiyna really Julia? Maybe I got confused. Maybe nobody's who they say they are. Or no one's who I think they are, because I hear voices and see ghosts.

I should stop trying to figure things out and just accept that I'm messed up.

"I could've stopped them." The mutant cannibals, the demons.

"But you wanted these people to die, didn't you?"

That voice in my head—it wanted me to leave them, not interfere, not intervene.

"We should split up, cover more ground." The caves are extensive through these mountains. I was left here in the dark once, lost and alone. "If there are any survivors…"

"We stay together." His tone leaves no room for debate. "Got a glowstick? Pitch black up ahead."

I pull the last stick out of my cargo pocket and toss it to