Detour To Apocalypse: A Rot Rods Serial, Part Two - Plot & Excerpts
Roscoe led, riding in his Nash-Healey with the desert wind rustling his dark hair and his sunglasses hiding his eyes from the glare―first from sunlight, and then from neon. Angel came nest in his Cadillac, followed by Betty in her little two-seater coupe. The Captain, driving his Rolls Royce with Felix in the passenger seat and Snowball scurrying around the back. Finally, Wooster brought up the rear in his Packard, which carried most of their supplies. It had been a pretty boring trip, full of open desert and splotches of habitation that passed for towns. Roscoe kept fiddling with the dial to keep the Deadbeat’s program on, pleased the signal carried all the way out here. But when they reached Las Vegas, with the oversized sign of the waving cowboy with his perpetual wink and a cigarette jutting in the corner of his mouth, everything got real exciting. The drivers rolled down the Vegas Strip, driving by casino after casino. Even though it was still afternoon, the lights had already switched on.
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