A lost world has been found again… and no one is getting out alive.
1863, a group of mercenaries in Montana come upon the remains of a once-thriving mining town. They soon discover that the destruction was not wrought by human hands, but by creatures long forgotten. William Meikle delivers a classic Lost World story with just the right touch of Horror and Western. You’ll be on the edge of your seat as you descend into The Valley.
Genre: FICTION / Action & AdventureThe Walker Colt was the most powerful black-powder repeating handgun ever made. The .44 caliber cylinders held fifty grains of black powder that fired a conical bullet of two hundred and twenty grains. The pistol kicked like a mule and was as effective as a rifle at one hundred yards. Jake Stratford tried not to think about that as he stared down the barrel from less than two feet away.
From this distance it looked like a small cannon. The pistol weighed in at over four pounds, but the hand holding it didn’t waver.
“Ah promise you mister,” the youth at the other end of the weapon said. “If you’ve led us all the way up here just to look at a ghost-town, I’ll blow your head off.”
Jake sat as still as he could, staring into Eric Strang’s eyes. He’d noticed the madness dancing there before, but this was the first time it had been directed at him.
“I promised you a share of the gold,” Jake said, and was grateful to note that there wasn’t even a slight tremor in his voice. “And you’ll get it.”
I just hope I can make good on that.
Things didn’t look hopeful. Three weeks travelling through the tail end of one of the worst winters in memory had finally brought them to the Big Hole Valley. For the past two days the men he’d hired, and Strang in particular, had been getting visibly excited at the prospect of getting paid. Jake himself had been looking forward to a bed -- and some better company. But it looked like he might get neither.
They’d been following the bends of the Big Hole Lake for two days now, picking their way along a track that was little more than a slush-filled bog with ruts in it. Ten minutes ago they’d turned a corner that gave them their first view of Ruby Creek.
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by Francesco Barlaam
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Joemio Tavares Freire
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by David Sanz Cuscó
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