 . . . .
 . . .
something strange out of the corner of my mind, a brief silvery flash between two trailers. I immediately stopped and tried to get Franklin’s attention, but he was too far ahead. For a moment I though about forgetting about it and just running after the Wolf pack, but something tugged at me. I decided to investigate and crept through the shadows towards where I had seen the flash. As I came to the edge of a trailer, I heard voices. Not the low grunts or high pitched yips of rednecks, but voices speaking clear English. I peered around the edge of the trailer and was shocked by what I saw...motorcycles. There were more than two dozen black and chrome Harleys in a circle. Around them stood the member of a Biker gang, talking in hushed tones. Straining to hear them I listed in on their conversation.
|
|