CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“You’ve come to the wrong place,” a boy at the front of the group said. “We don’t like bikers here.”
He had a folding knife in his hand that he opened and closed as he talked. Kevin would have called it a nervous habit, except that he was the one the habit was making nervous.
“We’re not bikers,” Kevin said. “We just borrowed the bikes so that we could get somewhere.”
“There’s nothing down this way but that,” the boy said, pointing at the ship hanging over Sedona.
“Good thing that’s where we’re trying to go then,” Luna said. Apparently, the threat of all the weapons there didn’t intimidate her, or maybe it did, and Luna was just reacting the way Luna always reacted when someone threatened her.
“You don’t want to make me angry,” the boy who seemed to be in charge said.
