Doomsday Warrior 03 - The Last American - Plot & Excerpts
The night had been long and hard, hard as a tomb. The acid rains had come and spewed out their fuming black droplets as big as grapes. Rain that melted, ate, everything that it touched. Throughout the surrounding peaks and valleys corpses lay, black and smoldering, fused into grotesque mockeries of living flesh, with their heads and flesh and bones all run together like plastic left too long out in the sun. Here and there a creature screamed out in mortal agony—its legs gone, its hide dotted with black, hairless sores where the drops had hit. Soon, the predators would prowl and would strike, putting the hideous half-dead animals out of their misery. Thus, even death could be merciful, even the carnivore a blessing to some who would end between its jaws. A smoky mist covered the lowlands, foul and putrid, the still rising steam of the acid rains pungent and burning in the nostrils. And from out of the mists, the tallest structure on earth, black and ominous, oozing evil from every steel pore, rose into the orange dawn.
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