I was already sitting side-saddle on Bentley, with Bitch ahead of me.
Oh, they’re on the same squad, neat.
My burned legs didn’t afford me much grip with my calves, so we’d taken a loop of the chain that surrounded Bentley and wound it under and over my lap and around my waist to secure me in place, connecting it with a carabiner in case I needed to get off fast.
Seatbelt safety, kids!
I put one arm around Bitch for further support, and scooted forward to make room for Sundancer.
Bitch, Skitter and Sundancer. Man, that combination is such a throwback to Hive. Good times.
Anyone else on the squad, or is it just these three?
“Go,” Bitch hissed the words the second Sundancer was in position.
Yeah, just these three.
Bentley lunged forward, leaping to the next rooftop and landing with enough force that I wasn’t sure I could have stayed seated if I’d been riding normally.
And this is why seatbelts are important. All of Worm to this point has been leading up to this PSA.
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