The struggle for survival continues
THE BADLANDS JUST GOT WORSE...
Ryan Cawdor and his band of post-holocaust survivors come face-to-face with a spector from the past: out of the swirling dust that was once New Mexico bursts a regiment of pony soldiers, led by a man with flowing yellow hair.
Brandishing Colts and Winchesters, the horsemen grimly prepare to destroy the ragtag strangers, intruders who dare to penetrate their ruthlessly defended stronghold.
As the final showdown nears, Ryan makes a startling discovery: either he and his companions have chron-jumped back to the 1800s, or General George Custer has been catapulted into the twenty-second century...
A lone mutie rushed toward them, lashing out with the jagged blade of his knife
Jak spun like a dervish, trying to dodge the attack, but the creature had the advantage of surprise. The crude knife slashed upward, and Ryan, a little to one side, saw blood spurt from the boy's arm.
Krysty stood by the open door of the gateway, and the mutie's eyes were drawn to the dazzling crimson of her hair. It dived toward the girl, but she was too quick, sidestepping neatly. The creature, shrieking its hatred, stumbled on the threshold and fell onto the glowin metal plates of the chamber.
"You're dead," Ryan snarled, starting forward with his panga raised.
"No!" Doc shouted, grabbing Ryan by the back of his coat and dragging him out of the entrance. "It's set on chron."
The lights danced faster and faster, strobing. The walls were vibrating steadily, and more than one of the six wondered if they were in any danger.
The scream that erupted from the gateway chamber was a tearing cry of anguish, so piercing that it felt as if it were scraping the inside of their skulls. The shriek bubbled for a moment, became louder and harsher. Until it suddenly... stopped.
The chron jump was a killer.