By James Axler
A mysterious message in regards to the long-lost dealer takes Ryan Cawdor and the Armorer on a dangerous odyssey to the Pacific Northwest, whereas Krysty Wroth and the remainder of the warrior survivalists face off opposed to enemies out to wreck their weakened staff.
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A mysterious message in regards to the long-lost dealer takes Ryan Cawdor and the Armorer on a dangerous odyssey to the Pacific Northwest, whereas Krysty Wroth and the remainder of the warrior survivalists face off opposed to enemies out to break their weakened team.
Extra info for Deathlands 23 Road Wars
B. yawned. "This riding along sure gives you an appetite. " "We eat at this rate, and they'll find us starved by the side of the highway before we're even across the state line into Colorado. " "Love the vanilla flavoring that Mildred put in them. " "Course I know it. Eaten enough of her food, haven't I? " "Trader's waited years for us. " The Armorer laughed. , had been the first of the major casualties, vanishing into dust, spray and lethal radiation in the initial seconds of the final conflict, though it was to be followed into infinity in the next three or four hours by most of the other heavily populated centers of civilization throughout the predark world.
The armored vehicle was precisely seven feet, two and a half inches wide. There was less than five inches clearance on each side. The dying man in his torn and bloodied fur vest had fallen across the gap, almost as though he had made the deliberate decision to try to use his corpse to try to check the escape of the outlanders. All four wheels on the left side ran over the man's right arm, chest and head. Ryan felt only the slightest jolt as the skull was splintered to shards of smeared bone, none of them any larger than a silver dollar.
For a few moments, sipping at a scalding mug of black coffee sub, he enjoyed the solitude, a time out of the perpetual war of surviving in Deathlands to sit and think and gather his private thoughts. Fifteen hundred miles. They had the LAV-25 locked away in the large barn, and there was enough gas to take them a good part of their journey in the eight-wheeled light-armored vehicle. B. had checked out the few tattered maps available, trying to pick a good route that would keep them clear of any of the pesthole frontier villes that they knew from previous experience to be potentially hostile.
Deathlands 23 Road Wars by James Axler