This is the last time we’re stopping on this planet! I don’t care how good the fruit is!” Zara shouted, straining to be heard over the roar of beating wings.
“Okay, so I may have forgotten to mention the horse-sized insects—but it was still the best peach you’ve ever tasted!” Conner grinned. He ducked as an enormous wasp swooped just above him, its foot-long stinger missing his head by inches.
Zara didn’t answer—she merely pulled out her pistol and shot the bumblebee hovering around the hanger door. “Just keep moving, peach boy. We’ll discuss your selective memory later.”