18

Colt

“YOU OKAY in there?” I checked them since they suddenly went silent.

Earlier, Iris gulped when I pointed at the dirtbike. She said she rode a bicycle when she was a kid, but never on a motorcycle. We didn’t have a choice—either we walk or ride using this thing—and this was a matter of life and death. The longer we stayed here, the closer those bastards of finding us.

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