Raw determination in a stillborn land...
POINT OF NO RETURN
Out of the ashes of the conflagration that savaged mankind two centuries ago, Deathlands was born—a tortured testament to a world long gone. Yet, in this kill-or-be-killed world where justice is the way of the past and blood is law, hope is the last refuge of the doomed. For Ryan Cawdor, driven by a warrior's instinct to survive, it's a world that exacts a devil's bargain: the struggle for daily existence in return for a chance to forge a better life.
Emerging from a gateway into a redoubt filled with preDark technology, Ryan and his band hope to unlock some of the secrets of postnuclear America. But the fortified redoubt is under the control of a half-mad former sec man hell-bent on vengeance, who orders Ryan and others to jump-start his private war against two local barons. Under the harsh and pitiless glare of the radblasted desert sun, the companions fight to see another day, whatever it brings...
In the Deathlands, the condemned shall inherit the earth...
J.B. was far from happy
He could see that Correll's strategy was already falling to pieces, and he and Mildred were a long way from where they wanted to be—at the side of Ryan and the rest of their companions. The only way to get out of this situation was to be back-to-back with people they could trust. At least that way they all had a chance.
The Armorer straightened his wag and headed toward the gap between the rocks that formed the entrance to the arena. Ahead of him he could see the Summerfield convoy from the rear, but the front was lost in the swirl of the dust storm. Sec men were racing back to their wags, and those who were already mounted turned, blasters at the ready. He could also see sec men standing guard on the top of the supply wags, with homemade flamethrowers. They bore little resemblance to anything the Armorer had ever seen, but he recognized the danger with an unerring instinct.
"Get into position and hold on," he yelled. "This is going to be a little tricky."