Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3) by Milo Fowler (reading comprehension books TXT) 📗

"You can see them? The spirits?" Mother Lairen blocks my path. Her hair is as red as fresh blood, her pupils completely dilated. She grabs me by the throat. "You are unworthy, child." Claws extend from her other hand, and she rakes them across my chest. She grips my throat tighter as I scream. She chokes me silent and lifts me off my feet. "Join him!"

Screaming, I'm hurled headlong toward the figure below. Why can't I fly? The ground rushes to meet me before everything goes black.

"Bad dream?"

Gasping, my heart thumping, I look over and see Rehana's face, her head turned toward me with a faint smile on her lips.

"Hey." I rise onto my knees and take a deep breath. Just a crazy nightmare. That's all it was. "How do you feel?"

"Like hell. What do you think?" She manages a weak chuckle. "They put this goop on me that's supposed to regenerate my skin." She closes her eyes. "Creeps me the hell out. And it stinks."

I sniff at the air. It's stale, the circulation already beginning to deteriorate. We won't survive long like this—not a hundred and fifty women cooped up without fresh air. Mother Lairen is wrong. Even if there is a Creator, she didn't have anything to do with this.

"Spirits of the earth," I mutter.

The Presence? It makes sense—metaphysically, anyway. The life force of the earth, asserting itself against us. After all the destruction we wreaked upon her, it's no wonder Mother Earth would seek to return the favor.

But why were we given our gifts? Could it be that these spirits are disparate entities, some wanting to help us while others wish us harm?

"Spirits what?" Rehana frowns.

"Nothing."

I rise and look around. Our sisters are beginning to stir, readying themselves for a new day. How will they react to being shut in? What will Mother Lairen tell them?

Nausea sloshes around my stomach as I remember my nightmare.

"What happened out there, Daiyna?" Rehana sounds almost like a child. I've never seen her this vulnerable. "What happened to us?"

"I don't know."

"But you've got to have some kind of idea. You're smart, I'm sure you've got a scientific theory or something."

"Everything is different now." I shake my head, avoiding the pleading look in her eyes. "I'm not sure if anything we studied applies anymore. The world has changed. There could be...forces at work that we don't understand."

"Ghosts or something? Those kinds of forces?" She waits for me to respond, but I don't say anything. "Good and evil spirits, something like that?"

"How many pain meds did you take?" I force a smile, even as what she says—despite the implications—makes sense in a weird way.

"I know, I probably sound crazy. It's just...it felt like we were being attacked, you know? Like the earth itself was out to get us."

I reach to squeeze her shoulder, but I pull back my hand. I don't want to interfere with the coat of healing salve. "Get some more beauty sleep."

"God knows I need it." Her scarred face relaxes, and she lets out a sigh. "Wake me up if those forces come after us again, all right?"

I half-smile as I turn away. Then my brow furrows. Forces? Spirits? Is that really what we're up against? My nightmare returns to haunt me, but I can't think about it right now. There's a more pressing matter.

Fresh air.

I make my way up to the sealed cave entrance. It sits just as we left it. Hands on my hips, I survey the rocks piled haphazardly but effectively. It'll take those of us gifted with strength to move the biggest of these boulders, and even then it won't be an easy undertaking. Where should we put them? If we drop them off the ledge outside, the descending racket will be like an invitation to any daemons lurking about. And even if we manage to clear this opening, what if there's another rockslide as we move on to the next cave entrance? Some of us could be stranded outside in the process.

All I need to do for now is clear enough rocks to let in some air. If I can do that at each of the rockslides, we'll have enough fresh air circulating to get us by. Then, maybe, Mother Lairen will be right. We'll be able to survive.

I climb the rock pile and find a large stone surrounded by sand, lodged between two others halfway up. I give it a push, and it doesn't budge, but some of the sand trickles down. I try pulling instead, and it shifts in place. With enough effort, this should work. I pull again, changing the position of my fingers. The stone slips out and falls with a loud clatter before I can catch it. Instinctively, I glance over my shoulder.

"What are you doing, Daiyna?"

Mother Lairen stands watching. Behind her a group has gathered, their eyes fixed on me. How long have they been there?

"I'm—" My stomach tightens. "We need air. I'm just—"

"We have air, my child. What do you think it is that you're breathing?" She smiles, and the others laugh. They look almost identical in their cotton frocks and long hair pulled up tightly, pinned behind their heads.

"Yes, but—"

"Do you doubt the Creator's will for us, Daiyna?"

A hush falls on the other women. They watch me intensely. More join them, a silent throng. I don't see any shaved heads among their ranks.

"Do you doubt Her almighty provision?" Mother Lairen's voice is as calm and gentle as ever, but there's a strange edge to it. Her eyes stare, unblinking.

"No, of course not."

"Then why do you interfere with Her handiwork?" She gestures to the missing stone in the rock wall behind me. "Why do you invite danger upon us all? The Creator has protected us, yet you seek to destroy what She has done?"

A murmur sweeps through the others. There are so many of them now.

"We—we need fresh air, Mother. Can't you feel it?"

She inhales deeply and