the smuggler’s bible


Nilo pulls the brakes and skids to a stop in the gravel. He glances over his shoulder. The others are sliding around the corner down the block, fanning out into a ragged V formation.

Go time. Nilo hitches up his backpack and starts pedaling. He cuts through a yard and jags onto the street.

At the top of the hill he really screw it on. Maximum power. Voices shouting distantly behind him. He cuts right at full speed, hitting the curb for lift.

Nilo soars, screaming like a fighter jet, they tell him later, standing around waiting for the ambulance.