19
The two TurboRads thundered silently through the desert, leaving a minor sandstorm in their wake as they headed towards New Vegas. The foursome had stopped a few kilometres down the road from the bar to buy crash helmets for Sylas and Philip, but since then they had cruised at a steady 400kph weaving in and out of the few trees and rocks that were dotted haphazardly along the track. They were shadowed for a few kilometres by a five-strong motorcycle g**g riding along the ridges of a shallow mountain range, but then the g**g disappeared just as suddenly as they had appeared.
When the foursome arrived at the outskirts of New Vegas they pulled into the parking lot of an old disused amusement park. It had been a working museum in days gone by, a testament to the days when entertainment wa
