GENRE: Adult - Science Fiction
Centuries after a biotech apocalypse bred Abomination and drove the survivors back to the Age of Steam, Pure folk and mutants must reach a truce to fight their common enemy. If they don’t, what’s left of humanity won’t last the summer.
It took Malcolm and the rangers a full day to hunt down the tuskers in the North Wild.
The tuskers had killed folk of the Territory--that couldn’t be left unanswered without looking weak and ripe for predation. And now they had them, caught dead to rights over breakfast with no idea Hell was about to rain down.
Malcolm squatted behind the birches above the tuskers’ camp while Sanjay and his rangers moved in to close the trap. Tuskers got their name from their piggish features. If they had a different one for themselves, Malcolm didn’t know it and didn’t care to ask. Pure folk and tuskers weren’t inclined to converse much before the killing started.
He plucked a juniper berry and crushed it under his nose. The evergreen smell was a damned sight better than the stench of burnt methane and saltpeter from the flamer crew behind him. He couldn’t abide that smell, not anymore, not after what he’d lost.
It made Malcolm feel a speck of sympathy for the tuskers. But that wasn’t something a Baneborn could afford--he had a duty, an obligation, to every soul in the Territory. People looked up to him, depended him. Hell, they even revered him like some prophet of old. Maybe that was why he preferred the Wild to more civilized places.
Sanjay and the rangers were in position. The five of them could slip through the forest like ghosts lost to a fog. But a Baneborn’s ears could hear them.