By Len Barnhart
In Reign of the useless the Apocalypse had simply began Mankind is an endangered species! The useless stroll and the dwelling look for shelter from the waking nightmare. Strap in your guns and toughen your technique of go back and forth! In Reign of the lifeless the Apocalypse had simply began. Apocalypse finish: Reign of the lifeless is the ultimate installment of a two-part tale. the realm now belongs to the rotting corpses of a misplaced civilization. Bearing little resemblance to their misplaced humanity, they hunt for warm-blooded prey to fulfill an overwhelming primal urge to devour residing flesh. As Jim Workman maintains his quest for different survivors, he's back faced with the belief that there's extra to worry than loss of life. He encounters a military led by means of a ruthless radical. they're a crew of survivalists, ready for something, and their numbers are nice. they're the final vestiges of a corrupt anti-establishment that stands within the means of a brand new starting for mankind. No stone is left unturned and absolute confidence is left unanswered in Apocalypse finish: Reign of the lifeless!
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A breeze had apparently blown the lid to the ground. He relaxed his grip on the weapon and lightly kicked the lid. It clanged against the side of the can and a flash of movement streaked across his foot. Surprised, Leon fell backward into the trashcans and sent them rolling, creating an immense racket. He quickly got to his feet, pointing his gun at the culprit that sat on old man Grady’s front porch, licking its front paws: a small black and tan cat. Leon exhaled the breath he’d been holding. The porch light flashed on and the old man opened the front door.
He’d seen this same scene played out many times before. No wonder they hadn’t found anyone yet. They’d be lucky to find their way home. Jack finally threw the papers aside and drank from the cup of coffee hanging in a cup holder next to him. His creased face and graying hair showed every bit of his fifty-two years. He had become hard like a rock since the plague, but his strength didn’t lie in calculations. He was a soldier, an unstoppable force once he got started, Leon thought, though not the sharpest knife in the drawer.
The ferry no longer ran its daily route and as long as the sick and dying were closely monitored, Tangier was safe. The heavy armory door swung open and Leon stepped out into the cool March sunlight. He tilted his face to the warm sun, then rubbed the tense muscles on the back of his neck to relieve the tension. What he really wanted was a pair of pretty black hands to massage his troubled thoughts away. He wondered what Halle Berry was up to these days. Since movies weren’t made anymore, maybe she would help him out.