Millions died when the bombs hit—they were the lucky ones.
America was a pitiful ruin... sane men fought like savages for clean food and water... those who had survived the holocaust wished for death.
In this hell on earth, Stack was one man who stood a fighting chance. Determined to cross the devastated country to discover the fate of his family in New York, Stack knew he would have to fight through a land where the few precious stores of oil and gasoline were controlled by barbaric killers. But Stack was as smart as he was strong—and his mechanical wizardry gave him a hard edge over the scum he would have to face.
The face of the world lay in Stack's hands—in the form of the last operational nuclear warheads on earth. All he wanted was to go home, but before he could begin his journey, he had to see that the nukes were returned to the Air Force. But this time, Stack was up against more than one enemy: a gang of deranged bikers out to destroy him, and a band of hardened criminals out to destroy the world.
Stack was halfway up the cable to the first tower of the bridge. After that, he and the bikers would have to reach the second tower, then climb down the other side to land. The total trip was about a mile, and each step was getting harder. The first obstacle was fear: the higher one went, the deadlier the view, the greater the chance that a fall would be fatal. Then there were the winds. They had been gentle at ground level, but now they were strong and constant, tearing at Stack's eyes and hair, making the rifle slung over his shoulder sway and his shirtsleeves flutter.
He stopped suddenly and looked down. Ty Boozerton, a balding biker in his late thirties, had slipped from the main cable and was hanging onto one of the narrow vertical cables by one hand. He was using his right hand to try to pull himself back onto the main cable.
"Help me!" he cried in shivering agony.