Doomsday Warrior 03 - The Last American

by Ryder Stacy

  “I WISH WE COULD SHAKE HANDS,” Rock thought as he held out his hands palms open, toward the Glowers.

  “OR SHARE A DRINK TOGETHER,” Mt. Ed, thought, dimly catching Rockson’s telepathic signal. The mountain man stepped forward, almost slapping one of the Glowers on the back, catching himself at the last moment.

  “UNFORTUNATELY,” the collective voice said, “OUR ACTUAL TOUCH WOULD KILL. IT IS PERHAPS OUR ONE CURSE THAT WE MAY NEVER KNOW PHYSICAL CONTACT—NEVER KNOW THE LOVE OF A MAN AND WOMAN—INSTEAD WE RIDE THE ENERGY WAVES. THAT IS OUR LIFE—OUR WAY.”

  “Thank you,” Kim said, her eyes moistening as she felt a wave of emotion sweep through her. “You saved my life—and—you are very kind. There is something in you that I wish everyone could feel.”

  President Langford saluted stiffly, and the four Americans turned and headed back out to the wastelands and the fogs and the high-rad deserts and the creatures that lived only to kill. They walked with their heads held high, typical of all freefighters, and were soon out of sight of the Glower encampment. The thirty stood and watched for a long time, able to see and feel the party long after they had disappeared from view. Then they broke and headed for their private chambers and activities beyond the comprehension of mortal man.

  Rockson took the lead, setting a medium pace, as Kim was not used to walking long distances. By tomorrow they would all be toughened up a little. The afternoon sky was streaked with thick, purplish stripes that cut across the sun from time to time, darkening the sky for a few seconds. But beyond, the horizon was clear as crystal. They would march into the evening—get a good start. They would head back to Century City—and help the president reestablish his authority across America. And the Particle Beams—they would need more of them. Another expedition would have to be mounted. The telepathy, too—somehow he’d have to teach that—if he could figure the damn stuff out himself. Jesus, there was so much to do. Battle lines were being drawn. It was going to be quite a war.

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  Table of Contents

  Back Cover

  Preview

  Titlepage

  Copyright

  DOOMSDAY WARRIOR #3 THE LAST AMERICAN

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five