{"id":973,"date":"2026-01-03T21:06:53","date_gmt":"2026-01-03T21:06:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/deathlands-90-prophecy-axler-james\/"},"modified":"2026-01-03T21:06:53","modified_gmt":"2026-01-03T21:06:53","slug":"deathlands-90-prophecy-axler-james","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/deathlands-90-prophecy-axler-james\/","title":{"rendered":"Deathlands 90 – Prophecy – Axler, James"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Book Preview<\/h3>\n
\n

\nChapter One <\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe sky was a dark blue bleeding into an umbra of purple. It lurched, turned, then spun through 180 degrees. Sickening pain jarred in Jak\u2019s elbow, making him bite back the curse that welled up in his throat as bile sought to join it. The Colt Python .357, never a light blaster at the best of times, felt like a deadweight in a hand momentarily numbed. He spit out a lump of bitter phlegm and turned his head.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cFuck\u2019s sake, Ryan, can\u2019t fire like this.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe one-eyed man grunted by way of reply as he pulled hard on the wheel of the wag, seeking to avoid another rut in the dry, hard-packed surface. There was no time for words.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJak cursed again as he slid across the seat in the back of the wag, careening into Mildred, jolting her arm as she took aim at their pursuers.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cDamn it,\u201d she snapped as the shot from her revolver sailed high and wide of its intended target.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAs soon as they had left the blacktop, each of the companions had known that any attempt at a perfect aim was little more than a hope; but none of them had real<\/span>
\nized quite how deceptive the surface they had chosen would prove to be.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAnd their pursuers were more familiar with the territory.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cEASY, BOY. WON\u2019T BE long \u2019fore we have \u2019em exactly where we want them.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJase Demetriou, the driver of the pursuing wag, chuckled. High, with a keening edge, it was the sound of someone who had a high regard for pain and suffering, and who would enjoy inflicting it before the merciful release of a chilling.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cLess laughing and more driving,\u201d the speaker cautioned.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJase nodded with a manic precision. Unhinged he may have been, but Jase was the finest wag driver to come out of Brisbane ville. He looked like he\u2019d barely hit adolescence, but was pushing twenty-five. The sweet, boyish looks that made him a hit with all the gaudies were betrayed by the glint in his eyes. Corden had covered for him many a time. The sights he had seen sickened him, but without Jase his band of coldhearts could never catch their prey.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLike they were doing right now. The stupes were trying to fire on Corden\u2019s boys, but the graying brigand knew the land around well enough to feel assured that they would never find their target. The plains that spread between what had once been northern Kansas, Iowa and Nebraska were still\u2014in many ways\u2014the same as they had been since thousands of years before skydark. <\/span>
\nThe only difference was that after the nukecaust the crust of the earth had seemed to ripple along this flat expanse. Just a little. Just enough to be invisible to the naked eye, but like a never-ending corrugation when you hit it with a wag. Especially a wag in which you were putting pedal to metal. Speed and poor suspension would jolt you, bounce you around the inside of the wag like a pea in a can.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJase knew the land like it was a part of him. He\u2019d driven it since he was tall enough to get in a seat and have his foot touch the pedal. It was still rough, but he could ride it. And Corden\u2019s men knew better than to waste ammo while the wags were in motion.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIt was real easy: wait until the stupe driver of the wag they were chasing tipped himself over, then go and pick at the carcass like vultures. There was little real danger. Anyone who put up resistance was usually too dazed by the crash to shoot straight. It was simple to pick them off.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCorden smiled slow as Jase skirted another ripple in the earth. This was one easy way to make jack.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIn the rear of the old four-by-four they used, the other two coldhearts who rode with Corden waited their call to action. Thornton yawned and scratched at the ginger stubble on his sharp chin. Nothing excited him until the moment he was called upon to act. Chambers ran a hand over his shaved skull repeatedly, a nervous action. Unlike the others, the dark-skinned coldheart always felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach until the moment of action. Only then could he really relax.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cWe ain\u2019t gonna catch \u2019em in time,\u201d he murmured.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cWe will,\u201d Corden drawled. \u201cJase ain\u2019t let no fucker get away yet.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cAlways a first time,\u201d Thornton muttered. \u201cJust not today, Jase, just not today.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCorden\u2019s smile broadened. \u201cYou got some more gambling debts to pay?\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cWin some, lose some.\u201d Thornton shrugged.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cLose some, lose some.\u201d Chambers added. \u201cThis guy\u2019s good. Knew this \u2019un would be hard.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cNothing beats Jase for pace,\u201d Corden chuckled.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cNever has, never will,\u201d the wag driver said softly.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nR YAN COULDN\u2019T SEE the ruts before he was on them. The land ahead looked smooth; that was why he had opted to leave the blacktop behind to try to outrun the wag on their tail. Outrun enough to circle and take the offensive. Except it wasn\u2019t quite working out as he had hoped. It was all he could do to keep the wag from tipping. The scrub\u2014dark browns with a glimmer of green and some purple and blue to echo the sky\u2014went by them in a blur, both near and in the distance. Over to the horizon, depending on which way he spun the wheel to try to ride another rut, there were the low outlines of hills leading to a plateau. Good cover, but too far away.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThey were exposed. Ryan couldn\u2019t see behind him, but from the terse epithets dripping from the lips of his companions, he was in no uncertain mind that their pursuers were gaining, with little hope of effective fire to push them back.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTheir wag was powerful, with a tuned engine that <\/span>
\nwas only now beginning to whine at the strain he was putting on it; a solid body with roll bars; no windows\u2014bar the windshield\u2014to either obstruct firing out, or to injure with flying glass from incoming fire; no roof; not armored, but a good, thickly steeled body and a four-wheel drive system. So, it was a wag made for endurance and a driver who knew how to pilot the vehicle. Ryan had escaped from too many similar situations to be caught easily. By the same token, he also knew that his pursuer was a wag jockey who was far, far superior. More importantly, he knew the territory too well.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cGaining,\u201d J.B. said shortly. \u201cMebbe a few more minutes, then they\u2019re on us.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cCan\u2019t get a decent shot at them,\u201d Krysty gasped, her breath coming short after a swerve had flung her against the wag\u2019s central column.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cI would venture that perhaps these coldhearts are so per\u2026sistent because they know what we carry,\u201d Doc stammered between jolts, his frame flung around the interior of the wag.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cThat\u2019s not rocket science,\u201d Mildred breathed. \u201cI\u2019d just like to get my hands on the bastard who talked.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIF ONLY SHE KNEW IT, Mildred Wyeth would have been too late to extract revenge on their betrayer. Tilson was chilled, his sightless eyes staring into the sky as his corpse lay behind the bar he had, until a few short hours before, tended, the bar where he kept his eyes and ears open for any information he could sell.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLing and Smith had been the inadvertent source of <\/span>
\nhis tale. The two sec men for Big Bal Hearne, baron of Brisbane, had been admiring of the people they had so recently worked alongside. Too admiring, and too mired in brew.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cStill don\u2019t see why Bal didn\u2019t trust us with the job,\u201d Smith had muttered.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cSpecialist job needs specialist worker,\u201d Ling slurred. \u201cLook at it like this. We know these people. Mebbe Bal figured we were too close to things, couldn\u2019t see what was going on under our own noses.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cFuck off. We\u2019re good sec. Best there is. Wouldn\u2019t keep jobs otherwise.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLing shook his head so hard he nearly fell off his stool. \u201cShit,\u201d he muttered, grabbing the bar for support and looking around before he said anything else. He beckoned Smith nearer. Neither of them noticed Tilson. No one did. That was the secret of being a good bartender. And the secret of learning secrets.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cDoesn\u2019t matter what we are. Mebbe Bal was right. How would we know? Point is that he got to be the baron he is by being careful. Eyes in his ass. Eyes on everything. Suspects every fucker. Trusts none of \u2019em, either. That includes us.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cSo why does he trust them?\u201d Smith asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of Ling\u2019s words through the fog of alcohol.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cReputation. Word spreads by trader. Traders live or get chilled by how they run their convoys. Coldheart cheating bastards don\u2019t last long. These guys rode too many convoys. Simple.\u201d He shrugged and nearly fell off <\/span>
\nhis stool. Righting himself again, he added, \u201cBesides, they got it right, didn\u2019t they? I wouldn\u2019t have thought Alex had it in him to sell us out like that. Too stupe, for a start. \u2019Cept we were the stupes not to see what he was doing.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSmith sighed heavily. \u201cSure could have done with that jack as bonus.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLing barked a short laugh that turned to a cough. He hawked, then said, \u201cThat ain\u2019t all. Good wag and supplies for the six of them, too.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cFuck\u2019s sake, why they get that?\u201d Smith questioned, his eyes wide.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nLing shrugged. \u201cDunno. Guess it\u2019s \u2019cause they missed the convoy out of town. Figure Bal would want them to go rather than wait for the next one.\u201d He grinned when he saw the puzzled look on Smith\u2019s face. \u201cKnow too much. Know Bal\u2019s weak spot. Know the whole story. We don\u2019t. Would you want them still around, knowing what they do?\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSmith\u2019s puzzled frown grew more intent. \u201cThat\u2019s a fuckload of knowing,\u201d he muttered.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nOne thing Tilson knew: neither man would remember what they knew come the morning. Neither would, in all likelihood, remember a word of what they had discussed this night. The pair had drunk far too much. Tilson knew them well: not as men, but as customers. He knew their limits, had added shine to their brew when he realized their tongues were loosening. Knowledge was power. That was what \u201cknowing\u201d really meant.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIt was late. The bar was quiet now. Only a few soli<\/span>
\ntary drinkers and the two sec men remained. Tilson cast an eye over the dingy interior. He could slip out for a few moments and not be missed. Big Bal Hearne made his people work hard, in return for which they had a reasonably secure life. There was little else in this territory. Few people stayed out late when they had backbreaking work come sunrise.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTilson left the drinkers and made his way to a rooming house down the sidewalk. It was a pretty fair bet he wouldn\u2019t be seen, but he still maintained a level of caution.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe main door to the rooming house was unlocked. The hall was dark, but he knew his way along it by feel. His boots greeted each sagging floorboard and splintered crack like an old friend. On the steps, he knew which ones were liable to creak, and which ones he could tread securely.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSecond floor. Third door on the left. As he reached it, he could hear the low murmur of voice within. Softly, he tapped on the door. Two quick, pause, two slow. The door opened a crack, the face in shadow from the dim glow of the oil lamp within. But the high-pitched giggle was unmistakable.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nD EMETRIOU GIGGLED again. \u201cOn \u2019em soon enough.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCorden looked over his shoulder and into the rear of the four-by-four. Chambers was wide-eyed, intense concentration on his face. He was cradling a blaster in one arm, the hand of the other unconsciously stroking the barrel. Thornton looked almost asleep, heavy-lidded <\/span>
\neyes masking his expression. A remade Glock and an old PPK .38 were lying loosely in his lap, his hands barely touching them.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCorden\u2019s weathered skin creased as he looked from one to the other. \u2018Get ready, boys. Showtime.\u2019<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nThornton sat forward, his eyes barely opening any farther. \u201c\u2019Bout time. I\u2019ve got a hot date with some craps, and this is taking way too long.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nChambers shook his head. \u201cMan, you\u2019re gonna lose that before it\u2019s even dented your pocket. Might not get a payday like this for some time to come. You should be more careful.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cLike you, eh?\u201d Thornton murmured with a sly grin. Chambers looked uncomfortable. He thought that his little jolt habit was a secret. He should have realized that a person couldn\u2019t keep such secrets in a small ville like Brisbane.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCorden, seeing his expression, barked a harsh, loud laugh and reached across, clapping Chambers on the shoulder.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cWho gives a fuck, as long as you do the job. Just keep that in mind, boy.\u201d With which, he turned back to the plain unfolding in front of them. There was less distance between the wags than before. With each turn the vehicle ahead made, it lost a little. With each spin of the wheel Demetriou made, they gained a little more.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIt wouldn\u2019t be long now. And while the four coldhearts rode every bump and dip in the plain, knowing from long experience where Demetriou\u2019s driving could not avoid disturbance, Corden knew that the six people <\/span>
\nin the wag ahead would be bounced like a pig in a barrel, until their heads were ringing and they couldn\u2019t see straight.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nEasy meat.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cGAINING,\u201d J AK SAID simply.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cHow much?\u201d Ryan snapped over his shoulder.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cToo much,\u201d Krysty replied. She was in the front, next to Ryan, and had wedged herself\u2014as much as was possible\u2014between the seat and the dash. Her head was against the roof at an angle. She risked her neck, but at least she had some stability and her bastard ribs didn\u2019t hurt so much. It also gave her a view that was the equal of the others, and another pair of eyes for the driver, who could not risk a backward glance.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cNo way we\u2019re gonna outrun them, lover. This is their land. We\u2019re gonna have to stand and fight.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cAlways assuming, my dear, that we can work out which of them we should fire upon,\u201d Doc said softly. \u201cI fear that I will be seeing double, at the very least.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cIf we didn\u2019t jump so much on this bastard surface, then at least we could get off some fire at them,\u201d J.B. muttered as much to himself as to anyone else.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nHe knew what Mildred was about to say before the words came out of her mouth. It was the natural repost: \u201cThey know we can\u2019t. That\u2019s why they were so keen to follow us out here.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRyan\u2019s mind whirred. That was the key: their pursuers\u2019 knowledge of the territory had allowed them to bide their time. Just keep driving, and the land wasn\u2019t <\/span>
\ngoing to get any flatter. Sooner or later someone would get injured\u2014already had, if he was any judge of how Krysty had positioned herself\u2014and if it was him then the wag crashed. They were making it easy for the coldheart bastards.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSo give them something they wouldn\u2019t expect.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cStay frosty. This is gonna hurt,\u201d the one-eyed man yelled as he threw the wag into a spin.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nT ILSON HAD NO INTIMATION of what would happen to him when Demetriou admitted him to the darkened room. He had some good information. Corden paid him well. In the wake of a convoy there was always someone who wanted to get out of the ville. They headed off, and no one knew if they ever reached their destination. No one cared. It was that simple. This time, there was more jack involved than usual. He should get paid well.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nNot that this was the only kind of information he peddled. You fade into the background, keep alert and you hear all sorts of shit. Tilson knew that Corden would do anything to rake in the jack. And there were always things going down that Big Bal Hearne wouldn\u2019t like, things that could be kept secret at a cost.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cSo what brings you here when you should be tending bar?\u201d Corden asked from where he sat on the room\u2019s only chair. \u201cSomething good, I hope.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTilson told him as concisely as possible. He knew he had to get back to the bar.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCorden nodded, then shrugged. \u201cSounds good. We\u2019ll <\/span>
\nkeep an eye for them. The usual arrangement, right?\u201d Tilson nodded. \u201cOkay. Fuck off.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTilson had hurried out, closing the door behind him.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nD EMETRIOU YELLED incoherently, throwing the wag into a spin and throwing Chambers and Thornton into each other, their blasters clattering to the floor of the vehicle, the noise mingling with their shouts of incomprehension and fury.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nCorden, on the other hand, just smiled. Softly he said, \u201cWell, well, they got balls, I\u2019ll give \u2019em that. Even the bitches.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nDemetriou slewed the vehicle counter to the grain of the land, bucking as he hit a rise that he would otherwise have avoided. Corden braced himself, looked over his shoulder at the coldhearts in the rear.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cReady to rumble, boys. Looks like they want some action.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nJUST AS C HAMBERS and Thornton had been taken by surprise, so, too, had the companions in the wag ahead. It was only the fact that there were four of them squeezed tighter in the rear of the vehicle that saved a greater injury.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cRyan, what\u2014\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u201cI get it. Take the fight to them.\u201d J.B. grinned. \u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRyan\u2019s jaw was set tight in concentration, but still the ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. \u201cAttack is the best form of defense.\u201d<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nHe was headed straight for the wag that had been pursuing them. For the first time, he got a clear look at his opponents. Two in front, two in back. The wag jockey had an intense, focused look about him. The man next to him\u2014older, more battle-scarred\u2014had a little more insouciance. A veteran. He didn\u2019t get a clear look at the two in the back before the wag slewed to one side, trying to flank them. With their knowledge of the territory, he couldn\u2019t let them do that. Ignoring the jolting, bone-rattling impact of each rut in the plain, he altered his own course so that he could stay head-on.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKrysty had maneuvered herself around so that she was facing front. Impact on one rut lifted her from her seat and slammed her against the dash, eliciting a yelp as her ribs felt like they were turning in and spearing her, driving the breath from her body.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nDust clouds from the two wags as they crossed paths and tried to circle back rose in swathes around the vehicles. The choking blanket obscured vision and trapped in throats and noses as it billowed into the glassless windows. Even in an attempt to counter the attack, Ryan might have miscalculated his play. The other wag had glass to keep the dust clouds at bay. They might not be able to see, but at least they weren\u2019t choking.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nRyan tried to guide the wag over the treacherous terrain, but now even his visual guide was gone. In the yellow-ochre dust cloud he could see little more than a yard or two ahead.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nOver the whine of their own engine, he could hear a <\/span>
\nkeening note, growing louder, as the coldhearts\u2019 wag bore down on them.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nBut from where?<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n\u00a0<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nT ILSON DIDN\u2019T EVEN KNOW what had hit him until it was too late. He\u2019d made it back to the bar, where Ling and Smith were still deep in incoherent discussion, still half badmouthing their baron, and half holding back lest they be overheard and reported. The other drinkers stayed apart and kept their heads down, lost in their own private hells.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTilson didn\u2019t have to serve another drink between getting back and closing up. These guys didn\u2019t really want to drink anymore, they just didn\u2019t want to go home because of what awaited them, either awake or sleeping.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAs he locked up, Tilson was kind of scared about what waited for him when he closed his eyes. Visions of Corden and Demetriou. Maybe of what they might do to him, which made him think a little more of how he felt about the two men: the way they had greeted his information, the way he had been dismissed\u2026. It was not like usual. He couldn\u2019t exactly say what it was that got under his skin, crawling like a roach up and down his spine, making him want to piss with fear. Just a feeling.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nIt should have made him careful. It should have made him look over his shoulder. But it didn\u2019t. It just wrapped itself around him, making him look inward rather than out. The slightest noise should have made him start.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nHe didn\u2019t notice Demetriou, waiting in the shadows for him. The young man was going to step out and take <\/span>
\nhim before he had a chance to yell. Seeing how distracted he was, grinning to himself all the while, Demetriou decided to let him pass. Would Tilson spot him? Would he realize? That would make it more fun, like chasing rabbits.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTilson was oblivious. Demetriou slipped out of the shadow, fell into step behind him. Nothing. He wasn\u2019t even going to jump, turn around in fright, give Demetriou a chance to show how quick he was by cutting him before he could yell. This was boring. He needed to get it done with.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nDemetriou quickened his pace and was on Tilson in three steps. One hand snaked around to cover his mouth. The other, holding a sharp blade, slipped up under the ribs at the back, piercing and twisting.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nTilson\u2019s eyes bugged as the pain hit. Any sound was deadened by Demetriou\u2019s hand and the blood that welled in his throat, filling his lungs. Already dark, the night slipped away to black.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nDemetriou let Tilson fall back against him. Twisting the blade to break the vacuum of suction, the young man eased it out. He let Tilson slump, his face up, and looked into his eyes. Demetriou laughed softly before he melted back into the shadows, leaving the corpse alone in the alley, barely aware before its chilling that life had been snuffed like a candle.<\/span>\n<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n

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Book Preview Chapter One The sky was a dark blue bleeding into an umbra of purple. It lurched, turned, then spun through 180 degrees. Sickening pain jarred in Jak\u2019s elbow, making him bite back the curse that welled up in his throat as bile sought to join it. The Colt Python .357, never a light … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":972,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[35],"class_list":["post-973","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-james-axler"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/973","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=973"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/973\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/972"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=973"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=973"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=973"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}