Quest For Earth Read Online Free PDF

the throat-choking black smoke as the warthogs were slapped into motion and the cavalcade moved out.
    Maaka led the way, scouting ahead, his gaze sweeping the vista before him. Now and then he paused to sniff the slight breeze. His warriors trotted at the sides of the carts and to the rear, ever ready for an attack.
    Mindful of the wounded, Maaka kept the pace slow. He chaffed at the delay as time slipped past and the night hovered beyond the edges of the horizon like the threat of eternal fire.
    By the time they reached the Freebers’ settlement only a meagre ray of sunlight still illuminated the landscape. There, he left his wounded in the hands of their allies. Although their medical skill was limited, he knew they would do all they could for his men. He continued on with his men to their lair, several weary hours further, within the outskirts of the Fallen City. They took their dead with them, dragging them behind on litters made of rope, metal poles and branches.
    A thin crescent moon hung high amid a glittering path of stars. Darkness shrouded the land. Frost sprinkled the ground like a crystal carpet and crunched under their feet as they strode along a wide road that twisted around crumbled, fire-ravaged buildings—most of which were half buried in earth, debris and vines.
    His bones ached from the cold, his wounds stung with the prick of the frigid air and with every step he took, his muscles shook with profound exhaustion. But he dared not slow the pace until they reached their sanctuary.
    From out of the shadows of the ruins slunk thin animals, the pale moonlight reflected in their red eyes and glinting off their sharp teeth.
    Maaka emitted a shrill whistle and heard a whistle in reply.
    Good. At least our base is safe for the moment. He cast a swift glance at Junta who walked, head lowered, at his side. The presence of the were-dogs his people had domesticated a generation ago should keep the Half-dead and the other predators at bay. With luck, his men would be able to rest.
    The lead were-dog padded to his side, a low growl rumbled from its throat. At Maaka’s sharp gesture, the animal calmed and after a cautious circle around the litter, trotted at his side.
    They climbed a series of broken stone steps and passed under a wide brick arch which led into a massive cavern with walls of concrete and intact roof. He ducked his head beneath the frayed ends of dangling wires. They often used this place and had spent many hours exploring the tunnels that lay beneath the building, with its curious paths of iron rails.
    If needed, they had more than one escape route.
    A warrior strode forward to greet him. Maaka gripped the man’s forearm and asked, ‘What news?’
    â€˜All is well, Chief. We had a minor skirmish to the north but our enemy has spared us this day.’
    â€˜Good. We have brought our dead with us, Tar.’
    The other warrior looked beyond him and Maaka heard him suck in a heavy sigh. ‘Leave them with me.’
    Maaka slapped Tar’s shoulders and walked away. Fatigue slammed into his body with the force of a tsunami. He swayed and only the knowledge that food and rest were a few paces away kept him on his feet. He left his men and stumbled up several flights of stairs until he emerged onto the roof of the building.
    Groaning with relief, he sank down onto a pile of furs, staring at the stars with his mind numb of reason and emotion.
    The were-dog sank onto its haunches and watched.
    Several minutes later, Maaka hauled himself to his feet and wandered across the roof, stepping carefully to avoid the gaping holes, protruding metal girders and mounds of rubble.
    Best to clean his wounds before the pus of infection took hold and ate away his flesh. And by the god, Leon, I stink!
    Beneath the slight shelter afforded by a leaning slab of concrete, he found a metal pail filled with stagnant water with a pile of reasonably clean rags close by. He unbuckled his belt and removed the