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Emerald Fire

Written By:James Axler - 1995

  • Emerald Fire - James Axler cover


A perilous quest in a hostile land


The global apocalypse of 2001 did not destroy the world—only a way of life. Now, three generations after the blast, the indomitable human spirit struggles against the devastation and hopelessness. For one band of survivors, hope lies in hidden gateways, portals to uncertain places of salvation or doom.


The Amazon Basin remains a land of primordial beauty and primitive people. Ryan Cawdor and his band of warrior survivalists emerge from a gateway into a abandoned U.S. military complex, now a native shrine to the white gods of pre-blast days. Here the group is given royal treatment, only to discover that privilage has a blood price.

In the Deathlands, you're always too far from home...


An arrow hissed through the door, clattering against the back wall of the control room

Ryan and J.B. dropped to their knees behind the last row of desks, the one-eyed man glancing to the rear to see that everyone else was in the chamber, standing, blasters ready.

Trader often said that life generally came down to two choices: a bad one and the other one. If he and J.B. turned and ran for it, jumping into the chamber and jamming the door, it would give the natives precious seconds to come after them and trap them before the jump mechanism operated.

So there was the other choice.

"Get on the floor," he yelled to his friends.

"Ready," Krysty called a few moments later.

"We stay," je said quietly to J.B.

Ryan rose onto hands and knees and powered himself forward to slam the armaglass door, triggering the jump mechanism. "Wait for us," he yelled. "Be along when we can."

A long arrow struck the door, so close it nicked Ryan's sleeve. He dropped to the floor, crawling back to join the Armorer.

Behind him he knew that the metal disks in the floor and ceiling of the chamber would be glowing, and fine tendrils of mist would be gathering near the top of the six-sided room. In less than a minute his companions would be somewhere else.

He and J.B., oldest of friends, hunkered in their limited shelter, blasters ready for the inevitable attack.




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