The car, named “Grace,” ran on hope, nitrous, and whatever fuel they could scavenge. Her hood was scarred by raptor claws, her rear window a mosaic of epoxy, but her V8 engine roared like a caged lion. Today, Jack was hunting a different kind of beast.
Now it was just him and the train.
Grusilda leaned from the engineer’s window, her face a scarred mess of rage. “TENREC! I’LL WEAR YOUR SKIN AS A SEAT COVER!”
It was the year 2613, a century after the Great Upheaval shattered the old world. Terranova, a jagged scar of a continent, was a place where gasoline was more precious than blood and the thunder of a Tyrannosaur’s footfall was the only alarm clock. In this broken world, a man named Jack Tenrec was a ghost in a leather jacket, his only friend a battered Cadillac Coupe de Ville.
Juvenile Raptors. Three of them. Their bioluminescent stripes flickered in the dark like broken neon signs.
Hannah Dundee, the sharp-eyed engineer who kept Grace alive, had been taken. Her crime? Refusing to repair the Pirate Queen, Grusilda’s, armored land-train. In retaliation, Grusilda had chained Hannah to the front of that very train, a living hood ornament as it thundered through the badlands. The only way to stop that train was to kill its engine block—and the only portable thing that could punch through eight inches of alloy-steel plating was the 20 Gun.
He pulled her into the passenger seat, wrapped her in his jacket, and drove away before the shockwave of the train’s fuel tanks exploding turned the valley into an oven.
The car, named “Grace,” ran on hope, nitrous, and whatever fuel they could scavenge. Her hood was scarred by raptor claws, her rear window a mosaic of epoxy, but her V8 engine roared like a caged lion. Today, Jack was hunting a different kind of beast.
Now it was just him and the train.
Grusilda leaned from the engineer’s window, her face a scarred mess of rage. “TENREC! I’LL WEAR YOUR SKIN AS A SEAT COVER!”
It was the year 2613, a century after the Great Upheaval shattered the old world. Terranova, a jagged scar of a continent, was a place where gasoline was more precious than blood and the thunder of a Tyrannosaur’s footfall was the only alarm clock. In this broken world, a man named Jack Tenrec was a ghost in a leather jacket, his only friend a battered Cadillac Coupe de Ville.
Juvenile Raptors. Three of them. Their bioluminescent stripes flickered in the dark like broken neon signs.
Hannah Dundee, the sharp-eyed engineer who kept Grace alive, had been taken. Her crime? Refusing to repair the Pirate Queen, Grusilda’s, armored land-train. In retaliation, Grusilda had chained Hannah to the front of that very train, a living hood ornament as it thundered through the badlands. The only way to stop that train was to kill its engine block—and the only portable thing that could punch through eight inches of alloy-steel plating was the 20 Gun.
He pulled her into the passenger seat, wrapped her in his jacket, and drove away before the shockwave of the train’s fuel tanks exploding turned the valley into an oven.