The sky’s on fire and she’s got a bad song stuck in her head.

The car hums like a big hungry cat as it skims across the desert on a foot-high cushion of air which smells faintly of ozone and lilacs. She reloads her guns and leans out the passenger-side window; the cops are still hot on our trail, but not for long.

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Rating: 6.3/10 (4 votes cast)
The sky's on fire and she's got a bad song stuck in her head., 6.3 out of 10 based on 4 ratings

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