By James Axler
Close to what used to be the Pacific Northwest, Ryan Cawdor and his roving band of post-holocaust survivors find a attractive valley untouched by means of the nuclear blast that modified the earth ceaselessly. Resisting the temptation to settle within the idyllic land, the gang is captured and compelled deep underneath an extinct volcano to an remoted group of in-bred scientists who're blindly laboring to discover greater methods of genocide, unaware that the area they're striving to slaughter has already died.
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Sample text
Yeah," Ryan said. " There was the whirring of a motor, straining and grinding, then the door rolled about five feet upward and grated to a halt. "Something burn," Lori said. A few wisps of smoke drifted out of the panel. For a moment, a tiny flame glowed red-gold, like the gleam in the eye of a hunting beast. Finally the dreadful sound of mangling metal ceased, and the fire disappeared. Ryan looked at the heavy door, considering his next course of action. If there were sealed stores behind it, then it might be worth the gamble of ducking under.
I put Vaseline up my nostrils so I can't catch it so bad. But it gets in your clothes. After a bad one, I have to take my coveralls out back of home and burn them. I claim that on the County, you understand. Course, they always piss and shit themselves. Every one. You get used to it. I counted back the other day an' I've fried me over five hundred in the last four years. " Krysty Wroth asked, turning from the others. "Nothing," Ryan said, pulling the paper off the board and crumpling it in his hand, letting the dry shards join the dust on the floor.
Her finger and thumb were at least two inches apart. " "Sorry, Ryan. " Ryan found it hard to believe that the skinny little kid had sent him flying so easily. " Ryan closed his eye, shaking his head in disbelief. Krysty was grinning at him when he blinked up again. "It's true, lover. Damnedest thing ever. Hair flying like snow in a northern blizzard. Pushed off the side of the door with his hands, kicked you round 'bout shoulder high. Both feet. Bounced you out of the mutie's firing line. " "Lucky it wasn't nothing fucking important," Finnegan cackled.
