The Badlands had seen many outlaws, but Jaycee was a different breed. She was the storm that the Private Society thought they could fence in. By the time the sun dipped below the canyon walls, the vault was open, the Society was in ruins, and Jaycee was already a ghost in the wind, leaving nothing behind but the scent of ozone and the legend of the woman who made the Badlands look tame.
"You're out of bounds, little girl," the lead enforcer sneered, his voice echoing through a metallic vocalizer. PrivateSociety.Jaycee.Putting.The.Bad.In.Badlan...
She stood at the edge of the Sunken Crater, the heart of the Private Society’s territory. It was a restricted zone, a playground for the wealthy and the lawless who bought their way out of the world's problems. Jaycee wasn't invited, which was exactly why she was there. She had a debt to collect, and the Society had a habit of forgetting their bills. The Badlands had seen many outlaws, but Jaycee