Drift (Drift Series) (5 page)

In another attempt to get under his skin, I took my hands off the wheel and held them up. It looked to me like I baffled him further when I saw the expression on his face. He couldn’t believe the chances I was taking.

In a final move, I hit the brakes and slithered behind him like a salamander, approaching him from the ever-so-dangerous outside lane. My driver’s window was now at his passenger side and he was paying way too much wide-eyed attention to me now, so much so that he didn’t notice the beginning of turn three had arrived.

I pointed forward. He spun forward. His face contorted in fear as he realized he may have made a fatal mistake judging the timing of the final turn. He jerked the wheel in over correction, slamming into me. His car bounced off mine. This disastrous turn of events aimed his vehicle towards the oncoming edge of the hill like a missile.

Even though we were at the third turn, a much lower position on Miller’s Hill, he was still in great danger of dropping a few stories. I needed to act fast to make sure nothing happened to him.

The only thing I could do was reach out with one hand from my window and grab onto his car and try to pull him straight. A move that would seem silly and pointless for most
, but it was just a reaction for me. The next thing I knew he straightened back out and started to regain control of his car. Whether my help had anything to do with it or not, I couldn’t be sure.

Darryl regained his racing composure and was now fully under control again. He had re-taken the pole position. I slashed back behind him so I could get safely through the rest of the final turn.

Our tires screamed through the last lengthy curve that finally gave way to a merciful straightaway. River Road had straightened for her last unforgiving mile.

An abundance of car beams awaited us in the distance, marking the finish line. Darryl was still in the inside lane and slightly ahead. Being on the inside position was no longer the great advantage it was on the hill now
that it was just a straight shot to the finish.

I shot out from behind Darryl and pulled up beside him. We occasionally glanced at each other as we jockeyed for the lead. Then, with a sadistic smile, Darryl leaned forward. His engine bellowed like thunder and he blew past me like I was standing still. He waved as if saying, “See ya later.”

I realized he had a nitrous oxide system in his car, also known as NOS. It gives out a blast of air combustion, giving a vehicle a sudden burst of high speed. All it takes is a push of a button to activate it. Nitrous is usually possessed by more qualified street racers than the two of us, but I had to admit, I was impressed; he actually had courage enough to use it. Under regular circumstances, he may have had me.

The headlights at the finish that seemed so distant just moments before were almost upon us. Darryl would win if I didn’t do something fast.
There was no way in hell I would give him any kind of bragging rights over me. I would never hear the end of it, nor would anyone else, for that matter.

I reached over and placed my hand on the dashboard above the stereo. Just to clarify, I do not have a nitrous oxide system. Like I said, I had to do something.

My mighty Mustang kicked it into a gear that didn’t exist in the physical world. It roared with fury, rapidly catching ground on Darryl. I found myself window to window with him for what would turn out to be the final time in this race. I politely, but arrogantly, flipped him the bird, returning the favor he graciously showed me just minutes before. His face stressed with discontent.

Darryl’s headlights became visible in my rear view mirror as I blew by him. I prepared to take my metaphorical checkered flag. But there was one last detail of River Road that I forgot about—another dip in the road right before the finish at the four way stop.

Suddenly, that all too familiar feeling hit me again. The weightlessness of the road disappearing, followed by the slamming of my car against the pavement told me I had just come across the last hurdle River Road had to offer. I soared over the finish line like an eagle, passing the earthbound bystanders.

When I crash-landed back to the ground, my car turned in a sideways skid, screeching every inch of the way until coming to a stop. I gathered myself just in time to see the soaring Darryl coming at me in mid-air. It was apparent he made the same mistake I did and hit the dip with blazing speed.

His Camaro sparked like an artillery shell in a fireworks show when he contacted the ground. He started to slide sideways towards me and I calmly stared at his approaching heavy metal. I focused, willing the oncoming mass to slow down before getting to me. It came to rest right next to my car, giving it a slight kiss of a touch before it stopped completely.

The race was over. Darryl was defeated.

A crowd of screaming and jumping teens raced at us in elation. In no time, our cars were surrounded by the energized flock. People leaned into our windows, congratulating us on the awesome race they’d just witnessed.

I opened my car door to get out. Darryl did
, too. Our eyes locked again as the encouraging crowd stroked our egos. People I didn’t know were patting me on the back and giving me well wishes. I think some part of the enthusiasm aimed my way was because Darryl was such a jerk and they were glad to see him embarrassed.

Whatever their reasons, I didn’t care. I didn’t do it for them. I did it for Shade, and maybe a little for my own amusement.

I struggled to look around the sea of heads that had now completely engulfed us, trying to find her. I didn’t see her right off the bat, but Sandra and her other two girlfriends riding with Shade earlier were cutting through the crowd.

Before I knew it, they stood in front of me. I never spoke a word to Sandra prior to this moment and was pleasantly surprised when she smiled and thanked me, only to follow that up with the tightest hug I have ever received. It was so tight it almost hurt. I think she was thrilled to see someone finally stand up to Darryl, not to mention defend her friend’s honor and make him look bad in the process.

I was even more gratified when all three girls hugged me. I hoped Shade would be next, but I still hadn’t seen her yet, and was mildly disappointed.

But then, as they turned to make their way back through the crowd, there she was. Shade stood low behind them, almost ducking, like she was trying not to encounter me in the middle of all the celebrating. She didn’t approach like her friends did and I was strangely bothered as to why.

Her friends disappeared back into the crowd and Shade slowly followed. Then suddenly, she stopped and looked back at me. Her mouth parted like she wanted to say something, but she looked at the ground and migrated into the distance. I kept watching her, hoping maybe she would change her mind and come back, but she didn’t. The back of her head disappeared as she slid among the masses.

“Leo! That was awesome
, man!” Scruffy shouted over the already vocal gathering. He weaved around people, struggling to get through, almost jumping on me as he threw his arms around my back in a bro hug.

“Easy
, man.” I patted his arms that remained around my back before quickly yanking off his celebratory death grip.

“Dude, Darryl is never going to live this down! You just kicked his butt! You have balls that clank, my friend. Hopefully, this will close his mouth for a little while.” Scruffy smiled from ear to ear.

“Yeah, right. He’ll find something else to brag about.”

“You’re probably right, but
now
you better watch out, Leo. If you weren’t on his radar before, you’re most certainly are now. There’s no telling what that idiot may try to get you involved in next.”

Scruffy was right.
Darryl wasn’t the type who could graciously accept being beaten. It was possible that I’d opened Pandora’s Box when it came to Darryl.

Through all the praise and excitement, I lost track of Darryl. Scruffy, in his own way, just reminded me to keep aware of him. Surely he would confront me about the results of the race. There was no way he would go quietly.

It took only a moment to see Darryl and his friends glaring at me over the top of his car. I thought for sure he would be scanning his car for damage first before dealing with me, but to my knowledge, he never checked it, almost as if his beloved Camaro was of no consequence. This was another sign of his false sense of entitlement. It was easy to recognize the race had left a bitter taste that he struggled to swallow.

All at once, Darryl began pushing people out of his way. With his cronies closely in tow, he approached.

Scruffy noticed the potential of another confrontation between Darryl and I, and he was making a move to avoid the approaching situation. He screamed to no one in particular, “Yo, John. Hold up!” He raised his hand in the effort to be noticed. “Be right back, Leo.” Scruffy hustled back into the crowd again.

I nodded at Scruffy and quickly turned back to the oncoming Darryl and company. He was within a few feet of me now and I was on high alert, puffing out my chest, ready for another meeting. Right before we addressed each other, the intrusive sight of red and blue swirling lights came out of nowhere
, lighting up the entire bottom of Miller’s Hill.

The local police had caught us all red-handed, loitering. The sirens blurted on and off in an effort to dispe
rse the crowd. The cops were casually pulling through the scattering people.

One would have thought a bomb went off in the middle of the group. All I could see, with help of the police lights illuminating the area, were heads and bodies shuffling in every direction
, trying to get to their cars. The old saying of cockroaches scattering when the lights come on fully applied to the scenario at hand.

The sounds of engines filled the night as headlights swung in every direction. I looked back to see Darryl piling into his lightly dinged up car.

I didn’t have much time to delay, either. I scanned for Scruffy and couldn’t find him anywhere in the mad rush. I figured he had jumped in someone else’s ride, so I was sure he was okay. It wasn’t the first time we had to leave each other in this way. It was pretty common knowledge among all the local youth, if a cop shows up to ruin a party, jump into the nearest friendly automobile and get the heck out of Dodge.

I took one last look around for him and hopped into my Stang. When I started up my engine to leave, I noticed a cop in his police unit, facing my driver’s side door. He had me dead to rights about twenty-five yards away. If I took off like a bat out of hell, he would surely give chase and bust my butt. Maybe he was too preoccupied in his squad car by all the kids running to take notice of me. Or maybe, if I could pull into the trees, kill my engine and hide, he would lose interest. Especially since all the murky fog had long since settled in and it was a lot harder to see.

On a wing and a prayer, I started my car. This was one of those times I wished I had a smaller, quieter car. My groaning engine most definitely worked against my efforts to remain a chameleon in the night. I kept my headlights off and crept into the foggy forest. But the moment I started my slow slither out of the officer’s view, he blasted his spotlight on me, completely illuminating the interior of my car. Then he chirped his siren and commanded me to stop my vehicle over the megaphone within his squad car.

“Turn off your engine now and remain in your car!” Instead, I stepped on the gas and blasted into the nearby thicket, still keeping my headlights off. His spotlight was on me every inch of the way as I rocketed through the tall pine and aspen
s, almost completely blind. I reached a depth where I thought it was safe to hide. His spotlight lost me momentarily, so I darted through a handful of trees, noticing a series of them lined up in a row, side by side. They created a thick, black cover that made for a perfect hiding spot. I slid to a stop and backed up, pulling behind the trees, killing my engine. His spotlight cut through the forest fog as he tried to locate me, slashing light from side to side around the area he last saw me. I could tell by the erratic way he was using the spotlight that he’d lost me. I remained motionless, watching him drive a little further into the trees, still darting the spotlight everywhere.

“You need to come out
, young man, before we come in and find you! You’ll be in serious trouble, son, if you don’t come out now!”

I ignored his warning, confident that I wouldn’t be discovered. No sooner did I think that, when a few more spotlights lit up the forest
. My hope of them only being there to disperse everyone faded; they wanted to crack some heads and my fleeing was something they weren’t putting up with tonight. I remained defiantly still, daring them to come find me.

It was apparent they were coming for me on foot. The sight of handheld flashlights bouncing through the fog confirmed their actions. Under the circumstances, things looked dire, but I wasn’t worried
; I would do what I needed to avoid getting busted.

But something I hadn’t prepared for was hunting me as well. The cops pulled out the K-9 unit; they
really
aren’t messing around tonight.

The sound of the dog barking in the distance sparked some concern in me. One thing
was for certain; I couldn’t hide from animals, their senses were way too keen.

The dog’s paws pitter-pattered on top of leaves while it sniffed through the forest, growing ever so close to where I was hiding. The policeman encouraged the mutt on by saying, “Get ‘em, boy
,” every time the pooch got worked up into a frenzy over a scent.