Fifteen years after doomsday, survival is a vicious game. Nobody plays it better than... Traveler
He sells his services to the highest bidder. He kills as easily as he blinks an eye.
After the Nuke-Out things got worse. The few surviving towns became private enclaves for latter-day warlords and their pillaging thugs. On the glowing wastelands, bands of mutant road-rats hunted down the foolhardy... and found ingenious ways to put them out of their misery.
He’s an outlaw, an outcast, a law unto himself. But ever since the nukes came down, he’s the only hero we’ve got!
Only one man is tough—or crazed—enough to run the gauntlet, cruising the ruins of America in a customized car—half hot rod, half tank—and packing enough firepower to waste any man’s army. All he wants is to stay alive. In a world where rape and slaughter are casual entertainments, that makes him the good guy.
He calls himself... Traveler
Playing for Keeps
"And behind door number 2, we have Allison. Taa-daa!" Melissa walked over to a small recess in the wall and slid open the door.
Inside, a young girl was ties on the floor. She was in her mid-teens. Her body was a mass of cuts, bruises, and cigarette burns. "Pain," Melissa snorted. "She’ll get used to it."
Traveler growled and grabbed the black-haired woman by her mane. He pulled her away from the girl and tossed her behind him. He heard her hit the wall with a thud. He pulled the whimpering young girl to her feet.
"Put her down," he heard Melissa slur from behind him. "She’s mine." He turned around, Melissa held his crossbow in her sweaty hands. "You can’t come in here and just take our toys away."