In a world ravaged by science, evolution fights back with the aberration known as Redbeard
Day of The Mutant
Red Will Donahoe, born barbarian into a world stripped of civilization, was a misfit. All around him were the results of the final blowup that had doomed civilization, skulking in the ruins of the city. And Donahoe skulked, too, hiding from the struggling normal society on the other side of the great river. Hiding not from his own choice, but because he was bound by unseen ties to the man in shadows, Gareth Cole—Master of the Mutants. Cole watched his barbarian grow from childhood, grow into the fierceness of a manhood that could know no peace until it had tasted the rich taste of blood. And Cole, enigmatic ruler of half a world, wondered if he had made a mistake in allowing Redbeard to live.
The winged creature was back. It dived down at Redbeard, screeching crazily and trailing its stream of fireballs. Donahoe hurled his warclub into the frothing face of the thing, and it vanished.
"Stop playing games with me!" he roared to Cole, shaking a fist in the direction of the tunnels. "Or I'll cut your heart out before nightfall!" Satisfied, he turned to the albino. "Tell Jeremy and Brin to fly to the edge of the mist. I want to know exactly where the Normans will break out."
"You can stay," the telepathic youth beside Donahoe said to the albino. "I just told them."
"Who asked you to?" snarled Donahoe. "Do what you're told, and keep your nose to yourself."
The youth opened his eyes, and Redbeard looked away bitterly. He resented the ungainly band of mutants that made up his army—resented them, but could do nothing about them. They were all fighting Gareth Cole's battle together...