Derek Moss is alone and far behind the enemy lines controlled by Colonel Harnet. While he's not lost--it's hard to be lost when he's managed to find his own, if old, backyard in Garson itself--he finds himself cut off from the Rangers of Walden and without allies as his own have presumed him dead. But he knows one thing Harnet doesn't... and that's how to win even when the odds are against him.
Four years ago Derek Moss formed the Rangers of Walden to protect the last spark of civilization from those who would see it all vanish into dust. Now, Colonel Harnet has encroached into the borders. He has one aim on his mind--taking the last barrier between him and total control over the whole Region.
Their biggest test is hurtling towards them ...
... On steel rails.
With the corrupt Colonel to their east, and the slavers to their west, determined to both call Walden’s rich resources their own Derek, Sheridan, and Garrett have to act quickly to make sure their home isn’t the next to fall to the pressures from outside… and within.
A cantina gunfight along the highway sees Dan Bardwell get the outlaw that he is after. Riding south from the border town with the dead man tied over the unsaddled spare horse, the lawman makes camp in the desert for the night. Awakened by a terrible hum, the unholy roam under a blood moon. The Sacramento lawman fights them off until his bullets run out and survives the ordeal, but barely.
If you enjoy the old west with a twist, cowboy lawmen with guns blazing and outlaws, always on the take and of course dope, zombies and the strange flying machines of the elders….this one might be for you?
Endless miles and asteroids to dodge. Never stopping for too long. To stop meant death. I know, because it’s happened before. Despite knowing I just wanted to stop and make an end of it, but then everyone would die. I couldn’t allow that so the journey through the stars would have to go on. On until something happened. Something that would change everything. I prayed it would only happen soon.
They came in the night breaking and smashing. I heard my ma put up a fight, but then came the shot and I heard her body hit the floor of our old cabin. Now I was crouched under the old foot bridge, the water although still ice cold from winter melt higher up in the mountains couldn’t compare to the chill I felt in my heart. These men meant to kill me stone cold dead.
Black iron bars everywhere. Nothing to do, but count the cockroaches on the wall. The chink and rattle of my chains sounding loud in the stillness of the cell with every movement that I make. All this to just keep me from the freedom of the wide open plains beyond the bars of my window. I didn’t like rules and I broke them whenever I could. That was why I was here rotting in this Mexican hellhole.
Stumbling in the sand …………………. almost there ……………… just a few more feet ………….. water ……….. bodies. Bodies rotting in the water! I’ve come so far ………………. I need the water, but all that’s before me is poisoned! A hard way to die. And for what? I should have just let her go.
Taran Collins was a long way from home. Now he had no home other than the trouble that always seemed to follow him.
May 16th, 1869
My name is Taran Collins. I take pen to paper to let anyone who follows after me a warning. If you come after me you can expect trouble. I don’t know of what kind per se, but……..well let’s just leave it at that. You’ve been warned.
Regards, Taran Collins
P.S. I’m not coming back. That much I am sure of. My story isn’t an easy one, but my hope is that my fortune will change.