After the Sky: (Spirits of the Earth Book 1) by Milo James Fowler

Author:Milo James Fowler [Fowler, Milo James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2020-01-27T16:00:00+00:00

Part IV

Origin

9 Willard

Six Weeks after All-Clear

We have to kill them. Every last one. It's the humane thing to do. Something's in the ash out there, and it's messed with them—altered their genetic makeup somehow. It's so bizarre, I can't really wrap my head around it, but it's happening. That I'm sure of. We've got to do something before it's too late.

And we've got to get the hell out of here.

We've managed to extend life support since All-Clear these past few weeks, but we're engineers, not miracle workers. It won't last. We'll have to go outside eventually...but not here. Dust and ash as far as the eye can see, like a desert wasteland from a Dali painting. There has to be another way out, somewhere, kilometers from here, and we've got to find it.

I blow out a sigh, and it hisses loud against my O2 mask. I'm stressing again, losing my cool. Just one step at a time—that's the mantra. I've got to take it easy, keep a level head here. Can't change a thing by worrying, and that's a fact.

Tucker joins me at the bunker's exterior door. He's got his mask on and the same government-issued jumpsuits we're all wearing now. I hope it's enough to keep out the ash if there's another freak sandstorm on the horizon. Fortunately, the door mechanisms still function, thanks to our tender loving care. Any swirling dust devils amble our way, and we shut it. I don't care who's still out there.

"Any sight of 'em?" He leans against the thick steel door frame and gazes out across the barren plain before us, a sickly grey in the fading light.

I shake my head and curse. "They take much longer, they'll be running on reserve power." I gesture toward the sinking sun. "We'll give 'em half an hour, then lock up for the night."

"I could go after them." They took a jeep, but we still have one down below. "They went south this time." Tucker nods. "I could track 'em easy enough."

"It was her idea to go. She can find her own way back."

"I'm sure she will."

Silence. Everything is so quiet out there, so dead. If we could make it work, I wouldn't mind spending a few more decades in the bunker. It has all we've needed for twenty years now: food, water, entertainment. Plenty to keep us busy. Unlike those poor bastards in Sector 51, we weren't segregated by sex. Sure, they sterilized us for obvious reasons—a limited food supply doesn't allow for babes in arms—but that didn't interfere with our coital recreation. It kept us busy, inspired us like nothing else. Some of my best ideas always came after a good orgy.

But that was before.

It's been twelve days since I first noticed the change in them. I've been counting. And I'm not letting a single one of them near me ever again.

"You think they found anybody?" Tucker sounds hopeful.

Survivors. Would they be ash freaks, too? Or did they have the presence of mind not

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