Up Jim Creek by Chris Ridder

Astorm of irradiated dust blankets the riverbed as gasoline
and water pirates cruise the post-apocalyptic
landscape in heavy off-road vehicles. Armed
to the teeth and tripping out on psychoactive
chemicals, the bandits race through
the river valley, churning up dust and tearing
through polluted creek crossings. It's dry and
desolate, and the sound of constant gunfire
permeates the atmosphere — this place could
be post-WWIII Australia or maybe New
York circa Planet forward
of the Apes.



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