By James Axler
Top his band of wayfarers to the war-torn website of the previous Washington, D.C., Ryan Cawdor faces double jeopardy whilst he comes face-to-face with a barbaric baron and the terrifying forces of post-nuclear nature.
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The jump had begun. Ryan could feel it-fingers ghosting into his brain, probing inside the moist pink-gray tissues, bringing the usual deep-seated nausea. The circular silvery metal plates set into the floor and ceiling of the hexagonal chamber were already beginning to glow, and the usual tendrils of fragile white mist were appearing near the top of the gateway. " It was the best he could come up with. But Ryan wasn't sure if the others heard him. His voice was frail, echoing, the words jumbled and distorted.
His brain felt like it had been dragged behind a galloping horse through a mess of cactus. B. answered him, his voice sounding ragged and tired. "You were waving the SIG-Sauer around like you were surrounded by enemies. " "It was. " "Dark night! " Ryan finally risked opening his eye and waited patiently for it to recover some kind of focus. He saw that he was stretched out on the floor of a gateway chamber, lying on one of the circular metal disks. The armaglass walls were a beautiful shade of clear cerulean blue, like a summer sky in southern Utah.
Ryan lay unconscious, face close to the opening, one arm jammed against the door. The process continued. The side effects of the malfunctioning jump struck at everybody, but Ryan was nearest to the nodal point of the matter-transfer dischronicity and was, as a consequence, much the worst affected. His living nightmare was horrific, but the others all shared bizarre sense sensations. DEAN WAS WANDERING across a bleak and featureless moor, with every up slope coated thick in snow. The air was so cold that it burned his mouth and throat like living fire, and the inside of his nose was coated with sharp crystals of ice.
Deathlands 27 Ground Zero by James Axler