“All they do is destroy things,” said Peter, sounding depressed. “Yeah. They’re animals. They don’t care about this world anymore. They’ve given up,” I said. “How many miless do you think we should go today?” asked Bodo, pedaling away and dragging the trailer behind him. I had the big butt seat bike again with Buster riding shotgun in the basket. “As many as possible. We originally said fifty a day, but I don’t want any of those guys coming after us. I think we should go at least until eleven today, as long as we aren’t too hot or tired.” “Yes, let’s not add sun stroke to our list of woes,” said Peter wryly. “We need hets,” said Bodo. “What’s a het?” I asked. “A het. You know, you put it on your head. A het.” “Oooh, a hat. Yeah. We do need hats,” I agreed. “Dat’s what I said. A het.” He looked over at Peter who I could see was smiling in the bare light of the pre-dawn. “It’s my accent again, issn’t it? I try so hard to sound Hamerican but I keep failing.”
What do You think about Apocalypsis: Book 1 (Kahayatle)?
