By James Axler
Whereas looking the Western badlands for the wreckage of a crashed area station, Ryan Cawdor and his group develop into stuck within the heart of a vicious struggle among rival neighborhood barons, with the lifetime of Ryan's son putting within the stability. Original."
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Additional resources for Deathlands 38 The Mars Arena
He'd been born and bred in Cajun country in the south of Deathlands, but he'd ranged far and wide, going up against his share of predators. With the sibilant cry, the creature rocketed at him again. The tail whipped in readiness as it took to the air, and a large, fanged mouth opened on its underside. Considering the aerodynamics of the mutie beast, Jak figured that it scooted along the snow until it built up enough speed to get airborne. It didn't need much room or time in the winds. And evidently it knew how to best use those winds to its advantage.
They'd seen the brushwooders earlier in the day without being seen themselves, not many hours after they'd made the jump through the mat-trans into the area. It had taken Ryan only a few minutes of observation to figure them for the raiding parties he'd been told about. The companions had encountered a group of farmers in the early evening and learned that brushwooders had fired several farmhouses and killed a dozen people. It was part of a spree of violence that had been going on for days. Violence was nothing new in Deathlands, or to the companions.
The rear propeller was missing, as was much of the tail section, and the main rotor held one bent blade stretching up. The others were buried somewhere under it. The Plexiglas bubble was almost covered, as well, but enough of it showed that the multiple fractures threading through it were apparent. The facet of the craft that most interested Krysty was the word Rescue lettered on the door. She looked around the fissure opening and thought she might be able to make the climb. "I'm going in," she told Doc.
Deathlands 38 The Mars Arena by James Axler