THE ENDWORLD SERIES
by David Robbins
ENDWORLD #8 DENVER RUN
The last vestige of civilzation was under attack by a horde of savage fighters, determined to plunge the world into total darkness and ignorance. Undermanned, outgunned and overmatched, the Warriors of the Home
desperately needed help. But help was hundreds of miles away in Denver, and only one man had the courage and strength to accomplish the impossible. If he
failed, the Home would perish; if he succeeded, it might be his last act of heroism.
"THERE'S THREE OF US, AND ONLY ONE OF HIM"
Mitchell hesitated. From what he'd heard, this man could take out all three of them without working up a sweat.
"I ain't got all day," the newcomer informed them.
Telford stupidly made the first move. He tried to bring his M-16 up, envisioning the great reward he would receive if he killed the man in buckskins.
But he never lived to claim it.
The newcomer's right hand flashed to his right holster, his motion a streak as the pearl-handled revolver cleared leather.
Mitchell saw Telford's head snap backward as the revolver boomed, a portion of the upper rear of his cranium exploding outward in a geyser of blood, brains, and other bits and pieces. He was slammed to the asphalt by the impact.