Sunday, September 27, 2015

100 Words a Day 707

The bike had been singed by the fire, but looked like it might still work. They discovered the tires were unsalvageable when they hauled it from the ruined heap.

“Do you think you can get it started again?” Klag asked.

Hazarad made a face, “Maybe. Won’t know until we start working on it.”

They walked it over to their truck and pulled out the toolkit. Klag kept watch while Hazarad got to work. Dusk was falling by the time the engine stuttered to life.

“Yes!” Klag shouted.

“We aren’t out of the quicksand yet; we still need some new tires.”

No comments:

Post a Comment