By James Axler
Shockwaves of atomic destruction grew to become 22nd-century the USA right into a hellzone, yet within the ruins the human spirit continues to be unconquerable. day-by-day survival is dependent upon uncooked braveness and a perilous goal, and along with his warrior band Ryan Cawdor roams the forbidding new frontier referred to as Deathlands, decided to unencumber its secrets....
Emerging from a gateway within the midwest, Ryan senses hassle in the well-fortified ville of a neighborhood baron, whose figuring out of pre-Dark drugs will be their one probability to save lots of a wounded Jak. yet whereas his whitecoats could make the medication that heal, the baron understands the genuine energy and cash is within the hardcore Deathlands jolt. And the place medications and riches move, loss of life shadows each step, regardless of which aspect of a firefight you stand on.... within the Deathlands, the next day isn't simply one other day.
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Extra info for Black Harvest (Deathlands, Book 69)
Her uptilted brown eyes, wide apart and inquiring, betrayed none of her feelings. Her face was uncommonly strong or intimidating, depending on your point of view. Nevertheless, she possessed a serenity that served her well in stressful situations such as this one. Bourne had warned her even before she set up Heartland almost three months ago that this moment was going to come. Something inside her had been looking forward to it. Noah had come to personify Black River, and she’d been under his boot heel for too long.
Not more than eight minutes later, exiting the stall, he went to the line of sinks and stared at his altered appearance, which was once again the very image of Bourne’s friend, the FSB-2 colonel Boris Karpov. Packing up the case, he crossed the terminal, out into the heat and the dense texture of humanity. Climbing into the air-conditioned car he’d hired was a blessed relief. As the taxi exited Ngurah Rai International Airport, he leaned forward, said “Badung Market” to the driver. The young man nodded, grinned, and, along with an armada of kids on motor scooters, promptly got stuck behind an enormous truck lumbering toward the Lombok ferry.
He pronounced Shiva as all Balinese did, so that it sounded like Siwa. He hesitated a moment, as if unsure whether to proceed. ” Moira said. ” Suparwita smiled at her indulgently. “The village is known for double ikat weaving. Double ikat is sacred, it provides protection from the demons of our universe. It is woven in three colors only, the colors of our gods. ” He handed Moira a card. ” He gave her a hard look. ” Moira asked. As if her question did not merit an answer, he returned his attention to Bourne.