Tag Archives: Tom Leins

  2051 Harlan found us in an abandoned foodbank. My sallow reflection looked distorted in his cracked visor. My eyeballs looked piss-yellow, my beard resembled long-dead roadkill. “Are you going to kill us, Mister?” I asked. He crouched in front of me, his ventilator groaning, his expression inscrutable. “No, son.” …

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