"Hold still," Chris said. The land Tripler skidded to the side as he turned the steering into the west Ivorian street. He eased his feet from the acceleration, however, not wanting to bring the eyes of the Keepers on them.
The street bristles with people of different shapes and sizes, mostly youths though. Youths were the fuel of Candanian. They were the ones that hang around in the night, doing the things which the society frowns on, at night. Matt had spent almost his entire life in Candanian since graduation. But looking at the Ivorian street now, he began to doubt if there were more places like this which he had not been to. The neighborhood was covered with helms of smokes and burning torches that glowed in some kind of containers. This side of the city clearly breeds the worst in society.
"How come we haven't been here for,"
Chris shrugged at his question, but after some time, he spoke.
