The past and the future are colliding with frightening force
A nuclear apocalypse almost destroyed Western civilzation in 2001, leaving in its place the forbidding world of Deathlands. Though the human spirit has not been broken, the new rules of survival are harsh and barbaric. As barons fight for power in a savage new America, power is claimed with the salvaged arsenals of a predark world: weapons, gasoline and those willing to kill.
The Marshall islands, once the testing grounds for twentieth-century weapons of mass destruction, remains pervesely beautiful. But the infested waters become the battleground for looting pirates and sec men in still-functional navy PT boats, all driven by greed and madness to plunder the predark caches of science and technology hidden in the islands. Ryan Cawdor and his band emerge in this perilous waterworld, caught in a grim fight to unlock the secrets of the past.
In the Deathlands, the price for survival is high.
"We take this ship!" a bald pirate shouted.
Desperate men charged the wounded defenders.
Lying on the deck, Ryan emptied his blaster at the pirates, chilling two more before they were past him and charging the others. They clearly wanted no part of the raven-haired man with the battle-scarred face and a working blaster.
The two groups converged, each choosing a person to fight. A single blaster roared, and then it was swords, axes and knives in total blood chaos, the individual screams and curses mixing into the muted roar of mob warfare.
Weapon in hand, Ryan couldn't couldn't find anybody to chill. The people were so well mixed, the Deathlands warrior would only ace the sailors he had promised to protect. Then he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye.
"Crew of the Connie!" he shouted. "Hit the deck!"