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As the lights started to advance towards us, the riders gave off inhuman whoops and sounds that seemed like various animal calls. They must have been rather far away as it seemed like an eternity that they approached. Suddenly, the first of them came into view. Three of them were charging towards the wall. They rode on vehicles the likes of which I had never seen before. They were similar to motorcycles, but instead of the two regular tires one would expect to find, they had four bloated wheels which reminded me almost of beach balls in their shape. The riders were armed with Molotov cocktails. We stood quietly behind the walls, offering no resistance as they approached. The front runner was just about to hurl his fiery missile when the ground suddenly gave out below him. His vehicle flipped violently forward and hurled him into the pit of spikes.
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