A new warrior breed blazes a trail to an uncertain future
In their darkest moments, few citizens of the twentieth century could have envisioned the firestorm that plunged the world into the chaos of a nuke-altered reality. Twenty-second-century America may not be much worth fighting for, but Ryan Cawdor and his warrior survivalists push on, clinging to the deep wellspring of human hope that somewhere in the raw, violent new frontier of a rad-blasted tomorrow is someplace they can call home.
Weary, sick and hungry, the group barely survives a trek through the torturous deserts of the Southwest which leads into the bayous of what was once Louisiana, a place one of their own first called home. The eerie, lifeless silence of the swamps warns of trouble ahead. But nothing can prepare them for Dr. Jean, a madman who has harnessed pre-Dark tech to create an army of crazed zombies marching toward his own twisted vision of Deathlands domination.
Welcome to the Deathlands, a place that welcomes no one.
Time was running out
The streets became a blur of artifical light, people and moving buildings. No time now to make a proper recce. They had seen enough; all they had to do was to get out.
But Ryan had no idea where they were headed. He could only trust Jak's instinct.
The albino youth cut across more streets, this time firing to left and right, the Colt Python clearing a path before him. Some of the ville dwellers were alert enough to react when the recce party burst past them, drawing their blasters, but the blistering return fire was enough to drive them to cover.
And now, after seeing the vid broadcasts as they took flight, Ryan and the others had no illusions that they could proceed without being noticed.
Their only hope was to reach the exit tunnel and escape down the sewer. And it was nowhere in sight.