Alex examined the go-karts. They were little more than skeletons, a tangle of wires and pipes with a plastic seat set in the middle and two fuel tanks behind. When he sat down he would be just inches above the ground. There was something else - apart from the floor. He had already noticed that unlike the karts he had driven at King's Cross, these had nor wrap-around bumpers. Now he understood what Paul had told him. The cars were lethal. The course was hemmed in with bales of straw, but if he lost control, if one of his tires came in contact with Drevin's, he could all too easily flip over - just like the friend Paul had mentioned. And if the engine scraped along the asphalt and sparks hit the gas tanks, the whole thing would explode.

By hiccup, June 15, 2012.

Found in Alex Rider, Ark Angel, authored by Anthony Horowitz.


The go-cart was the most fun thing in Aja's life. Often he felt like all the expectations heaped upon him would make him explode and he slept poorly because of it. When he awoke at dawn filled with tension and racing thoughts he would slip on his shoes and take the go-cart from the backyard. Then he would jog to the steepest hill in the village. At this time it was mostly deserted, the occasional seller would be beginning the trek to the bigger market in the next town over, but no-one cared if he sped down. There were no brakes, only a rope to steer. The ride was bumpy as the hard wheels careened over the ill-kept road and the wind whipped into his eyes. But by the end he was exhilarated. He lived for it. Everything else was drudgery and duty.

By sydneyvosse01, October 24, 2014.