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

"We must be close to their camp, if they attacked us on foot." He sounds eager to pursue them.

"We've just managed to escape with our lives," I caution him.

He points after the retreating shapes. "This is why we've come, Daiyna. Now we'll know what we're up against, what other weapons or technology they possess. There may be communication devices, ways to contact other survivors—"

"Condoms?" Samson chuckles. No one joins him. "What? Don't tell me it didn't cross your mind."

"Honestly? No." I face Luther. "We're stranded out here. We need to find a way back to the caves."

"Agreed. We'll take one of their vehicles after we've surveyed their camp. We have to know how many there are before we can mount a full assault."

We can't journey north to the Preserve until the daemon threat is neutralized. And we can't risk a full-scale attack on them without knowing their numbers. We need to find their base camp or whatever hell-hole they live in before we do anything else. But the thought of being on foot, unable to flee from potentially dozens of these creatures when they come back for us...

It's enough to turn my legs to ash.

"I sure hope you can still see 'em, Small Fry, because they're just about off my radar." Samson shields his goggles against the sun's glare with one hand.

"I can see them," she replies evenly.

Luther steps forward and turns, walking backward. "Shall we, my friends?"

"Count me in." Samson follows.

Shechara turns to me. "Daiyna?"

I sigh, watching Luther with his hands out to the sides, seeming to invite an embrace as he backs away.

"I think they need us, Daiyna." Shechara pats my arm. "We should go with them."

Maybe she's right. It's what we came out here for, anyway. We've lost our means of transportation and escape, but we've gained two more rifles, so now each of us is armed. That's something. And so far, the spirits have helped us. I can't deny that.

I have to hope they'll continue to do so. If they do...then we'll have nothing to fear, just like they said in my dream.

But in my dream, we still had the jeep at this point.

"All right, if you say so." I shoulder the rifle by its strap. The UW insignia on the stock catches the sunlight. I hope we find an explanation for that among everything else that lies ahead of us. "We're in," I call to Luther as Shechara and I catch up. "On one condition."

He turns mid-stride as I come alongside him. "And that would be?"

"We make finding a vehicle our top priority. Before we do anything else."

"Always have an exit strategy. One of the primary rules of engagement." Samson chuckles. "Just what I was thinking. Great minds think alike, eh Daiyna?"

If I didn't know he was from Sector 51, I'd seriously doubt he has a mind at all in that huge head. Maybe that's unfair. He does know how to drive, after all.

"Reasonable enough." Luther nods.

"They're dropping into a crater, out of sight now." Shechara picks up her pace. "We should hurry."

We break into an easy jog, passing what's left of the jeep as we continue northward. Hills and craters lie ahead, lifeless, crumbling into ash. Do the daemons know we're following them? What if only a few of them broke away from the pack, and the rest lie in wait to ambush us again?

"Keep your eyes open, folks," Samson says, seeming to hear my thoughts. He holds his rifle low, at the ready. "We don't want them doubling back to surprise us."

Eyes darting, I wipe at the dust caked on my goggle lenses. Now they're smeared, but I can't waste a hydropack to clean them. The sun beats relentlessly against my head, my shoulders, my back. Sweat trickles across my skin, beneath my garments. I wish I could take them off. I wish the sun wouldn't scorch me if I did.

"They climbed out of the crater, but they dropped down an embankment on the other side." Shechara points. "I can't see them anymore."

"Think they caught sight of us?" Samson scratches his chin through his head covering.

"They haven't looked back." Shechara breaks into a run, beckoning. "Let's go!"

We follow close behind. It seems too easy—tracking these creatures straight to their home. They must know we survived their attack and killed three of their own in the process. Could it be they simply don't care?

I can't shake the feeling we're not alone. Maybe because we're not. The Presence I feel could be the spirits, moving with us, keeping the evil ones at bay who would rise against us in the rocks and sand. They told me we had nothing to fear. Do I doubt them?

I hope they'll warn me again if trouble heads our way.

"Great spot for an ambush," Samson remarks, clearing his throat. He surveys the low hill formation up ahead and an outcropping of rock across from it. We'll have to pass in between to remain on course. "If they've got any brains left in those mutant skulls, they would've thought to leave a couple sharpshooters there and there. Pick us off as we pass by."

I drop the rifle from my shoulder and hold it ready as our pace slows.

"Anything, Daiyna?" Luther asks.

I shake my head.

"Then we must assume it's safe. If they haven't warned you..." He looks at me for a moment. Then he runs ahead, beckoning us to follow.

Samson charges after him, then Shechara. As they pass by the rocks, my abdomen tightens. I half-expect to see a well-armed band of daemons rise up for the slaughter.

But Luther and the others make it through without incident, and I quickly join them.

"Didn't think we'd make it, huh?" Samson mutters to me.

Of course he noticed my hesitation. "I was covering you." I raise my rifle.

"Sure you were." He chuckles.

Shechara points out a massive crater in the earth ahead of us, one that would take just as long to circumvent as it would to cross. "That's where