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Deathlands

Cold Asylum

Written By:James Axler - 1994

  • Cold Asylum - James Axler cover

Synopsis

Exiles from the future in the aftermath of the apocalypse

FUTURE SHOCK

Generations after global annihilation, Kansas is a mutated landscape of dense, deciduous forest. Gone are the amber waves of grain, another hideous result of nuclear devastation that changed the face of the Earth forever. Now it's survival of the freakish.

Following rumors that might lead them to the long-lost Trader, Ryan Cawdor and his band of warrior survivalists find themselves the unwilling houseguests of one of the wealthiest barons in all of Deathlands. At Baron Mandeville's opulent homestead, a glittering ornate fortress called Sun Crest, a secret and preverted game continues: gladiator contests among the guests. The winners get to play the ultimate life-and-death game—a hunt in which they are the quarry.

Hope died in the Deathlands, but the will to live goes on.

Excerpt

Guiteau's desperate voice rose above the crackling of flames and thunder

"Any moment a hundred armed sec men'll be on top of you Cawdor. Give up and the boy lives. Best offer you'll get all day."

He stepped into the open, crouched and almost totally hidden behind Dean, the muzzle of the Armalite digging into the boy, his finger on the trigger.

"Let him go, or I'll put you down." The voice, surprisingly calm, was Mildred's.

From the corner of his eye, Ryan saw the doctor standing like a statue, her right arm extended, the ZKR 551 target pistol pointed at the sec sergeant.

"The boy dies before I take a hit," Guiteau called crouching even lower, so that she could see very little of his head of body.

But that didn't matter. The Czech revolver snapped once, and at forty paces and in poor light, Mildred put the .38-caliber round precisely where she aimed it.

Both Harry Guiteau's index finger and the trigger of his automatic rifle were blown off. The Armalite clattered to the ground, and Dead scampered toward his father.

"Best damn shot I ever saw," the sec sergeant gritted through his pain.

Mildred's second shot punched through the bridge of his nose, ensuring the companions' escape.

They turned and headed for the redoubt.

Catastrophe:

war

Type:

fantastical
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