The Tube Riders

Sometimes I buy things on the Kindle sale thinking, how bad could it be? And the answer is: pretty bad. I really need to notice when something is self-published.

Anyway, it's just a mushy, lazy, underwhelming pablum of YA Dystopia Tropes. Not even good entertainment, although there were a few so-bad-it's-good sentences, which I have highlighted for your amusement:

This was so far out of his comfort zone it had come full circle and poked him in the backside.

The sound was what Clayton imagined a snake with the flu would sound like; a hissing, sibilant noise like a piece of metal being dragged across sand.

A thick chest looked ready to throw bombs, and Carl backed away across the room, fearing a storm.

‘Negotiations have opened with the European Confederation,' the Governor said in that dark chocolate voice, like an old cassette tape playing on weak batteries.

Marta, with hair she rarely cut that was matted from lack of care rather than dreaded, and a body that was hard from tube riding, knew she was attractive in a goth-punk kind of way, because enough guys had told her.

She had fallen badly and lost consciousness, but she was still a novice after all so really she had to be thankful she hadn't broken anything at best.

The wound was bad, but not serious.

When he saw the Governor, his eyes gave a double take and a look of horror danced across his face.