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We Ain't the Brontes (Urban Renaissance) | Fruugo
Description Charity Evans and Lynzee Lavender haven't always had the best relationship--for the most part thanks to them being writers. But while Lynzee is the wealthy, successful New York Times bestselling author of science fiction books, Charity is just squeaking by. Why is success passing her by? As time passed, dialogue was reduced to a few comments about the cold and remarks on the sight of any prospects. Coughs, squeaky farts and the crunching of the gears were the only other sounds that echoed around the metal box of the van.
The miserable day had reduced even the glow of a successful prize to minimum. It was now midday and they had two bikes in the back already: a fairly decent Scott and a good-but-old racer.
More was needed though. Coming back around the north end of town, they drove down between the Royal and the university and turned into Paddington. Hoards of students filled the squares that formed the centre of the university. Aaron slowly moved the van over towards the large bike rack by the university branch of the bank. They parked the van a little distance away from the racks. Even when most of the students had disappeared into the various university buildings, they continued to wait as the engine ticked over and a Radio City DJ chirped away low in the background.
Eventually, as the student body trickled down to a few stragglers, Aaron nodded and Phil got out of the van and walked casually over towards the bike rack. Adjacent to the rack, there was a CCTV camera high on a pole. Phil pulled his high plastic coat collar a little further up his face. No one would be watching he reckoned, they never were.
But, even if they were recording, on the shit grainy video he would now be just another shaven head in a big coat. In the rack there were four bikes. Phil assessed the scene within a few seconds, glanced around to see if anyone was watching, and then walked back towards the van. He raised his eyebrows a little and smiled at the other two as he approached. As it separated from its bent frame it made a popping sound. Aaron also got out of his side and walked around to the back of the van.
He and Phil pulled the back doors open and picked up a set of bolt cutters off the floor. Without speaking, Phil went over to the first bike and snipped its loose chain in an instant, then set to work on the next one. Aaron pulled the first bike free from its holder, lifted it up and rolled it rapidly towards the back of the van.
Ethan, meanwhile, having unscrewed the bolts on the expensive saddle, began to pull it out of the frame. Ethan pulled the saddle free with a grunt and fell backwards a little with the force of the release. He walked around to place it in the back of the van. Phil hacked through the last of the chain on the second bike, it had been harder than he had imagined. Grabbing at the crossbar, he prepared to yank it upwards when he heard an intense rushing at the side of his ears.
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