“This isn’t Deathlands!
Where in nukin’ hell are we?”

J.B. stared up at the wall-to-wall buildings as if he’d never seen the like.

Ryan didn’t seem to notice the Armorer’s distress. He took stock of their surroundings, realizing that the companions had been there before, in the future, amid ashes and ruin. He focused his attention on the traffic, looking from one license plate to another.

“What year is this?” he asked Veronica.

“It’s 2001.”

Doc groaned. “We have jumped back in time.”

“You’re from the future?”

Ryan ignored her question. “What month is it? What day?”

“It’s January 19,” Veronica replied. “Why, do you have somewhere more important to be?”

“Any place but here and now would be just fine,” Ryan told her. “The world ends tomorrow at noon.”