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The Family

By Ken Anderson

Chapter 3 - Red and Blue Lights

Nick's newly-swapped and tuned engine rumbled powerfully as he eased off the clutch pedal and allowed his 240 to coast to a stop in front of the bright, neon-red line which had been hastily spray-painted across the lanes of the dusty street where the race was scheduled to begin. The surge of adrenaline was already causing his heart to beat faster than normal. His striped muzzle was agape as he struggled to take in large lungfuls of the thick, smoggy evening air, silently willing his paws to stop shaking as he gripped the steering wheel with enough strength to make its leather cover crackle under the pressure.

Next to him, Jake was shaking his head sadly, the ash-gray coyote heaving a sigh as he retrieved a pack of Marlboros from the pocket of his torn black jeans, before sticking two of the smokes into his muzzle and using his zippo to light them both.

"Here," he muttered, offering one of the burning tobacco sticks to Nick as the obviously-shaken white tiger continued to pant loudly, the sound of his hyperventilation almost overpowering the rumble coming from the car's engine bay.

"Take it. Suck down a good half of it, and get a grip, man. You've got this in the bag; I've seen you race enough times to know it. Seriously..."

Much to his friend's chagrin, Nick remained unmoved, his eyes still locked firmly on the road in front of him, until Jake let out an annoyed groan, and suddenly brought his open paw against the side of Nick's face with a resounding 'thwack!'

Snapping out of his daze, the tiger turned to face his friend with a look of pain and a grimace of anger spread across his muzzle. "HEY! What the hell was that for?!"

"Well, it WORKED, didn't it?!" Jake shot back, holding up the lit cigarette and waving it around in front of his face. "Now here. Take this and pull your head outta your ass, already! I don't need you with your head in the clouds, man, I need you RIGHT HERE! You've got a race to run!"

It took Nick a moment to realize that Jake had a good point. Once again, he was overthinking things. It was a curse of his, and it had been, for as far back as he could remember. Shaking his head rapidly to clear away his troubling thoughts, Nick gave himself a few good, hard whacks against the sides of his muzzle, before reaching out with two extended claws to pluck the cigarette from Jake's outstretched hand, and raising it to his lips to take a deep, lung-filling pull.

Sighing heavily, he released a cloud of smoke which filled the inside of the car with a thick, grayish haze. He closed his eyes and took another, smaller drag from the cigarette, allowing the smoke to trickle up from his muzzle into his nostrils as he savored the thick, heavy taste. Next to him, the corners of Jake's muzzle had turned slightly upwards in an approving smile, as he watched his friend's tense muscles begin to relax, his grip on the steering wheel becoming loose, almost casual, as he allowed one of his hands to drop away and come to rest on the shifter protruding from the center console.

Reaching up with his free paw, he stuck the burning cigarette into one corner of his muzzle, gripping it firmly between his teeth as he took one last, large breath, before opening his eyes, and turning to face his friend. Smiling slightly, he gave Jake a single nod, which the coyote returned with a grin. No words needed to be spoken between the two of them; they'd done this dance plenty of times.

"Let's fucking ride, yeah?" Jake called over, as both of them turned their heads and gave their attention to the other four cars which had quickly lined up on either side of them.

To their left was a dark-blue late 2010's Challenger, the one with the newer 392 Hemi engine, Nick took note, as announced by the small badge which was stuck to the front quarter panel near the passenger side door. On the other side of the Challenger was a Porsche, one of the newer models, he knew, but he couldn't get a good look from through the Challenger's black-tinted windows. turning his head to look across from him, he spotted Jake's eyes widening as he took in the other two cars they'd be going up against. On the far side of them was a mark IV Toyota Supra, still in relatively good condition; its owner must take some serious pride in keeping it tuned and running.

But that wasn't what had caught his friend's gaze. There, right next to them, was an all-black 1970 SS Chevelle, its white racing stripes giving the body a menacing look as the driver revved the engine, causing the entire car to visibly shake. It had obviously undergone a full resto-mod; the only old part on the car itself appeared to be the chassis. Nick felt his cigarette dropping out of his mouth as his jaw widened and his eyes began to bulge.

"Uhhh... Jake? Isn't that..."

The coyote was already rolling down the passenger-side window before he could even respond.

"Seriously?!" he shouted out, waving one paw towards the Chevelle, as he kept his gaze locked onto the blacked-out window on the driver's side.

As if to answer his question, the window of the car next to them began to lower as well, a thick plume of smoke rushing out into the night air as the smiling face of an aging, brown-furred German Shepherd turned to greet them with a quick nod.

"Dad?!" Jake exclaimed in surprise, "What're you doing out here? I thought you'd be waiting near the finish line, back at home!"

"No such luck, kid!" The cigarette-stained voie of Charlie Clayton shouted back, with a wide grin twisted across his muzzle, "When you told me there was a race going on tonight, I couldn't stop myself! Hahaha! Your friend Marco made it safely to the house, by the way! He's rooting for you two! Oh, yeah, hey Nick!"

The white tiger gave the elder Clayton a single nod as his ears perked up at the mention of his name.

"Sorry, kid, but that money's coming back with me tonight! No worries though, I'll give you boys back your stake!"

With that, the Shepherd let out another round of howling laughter as he rolled the window back up, sealing himself inside of the smoke-filled car. The clashing sound of loud heavy metal music began to fill their ears as the stereo in the Chevelle was suddenly cranked up to the maximum volume.

Shaking his head once again to clear away his thoughts, Nick smacked a paw against Jake's shoulder violently, causing him to turn around so they were face-to-face.

"Dude! You never told me your dad liked to race!"

"How was I supposed to know?!" Jake shot back, visibly sweating under his fur. "He spends half his time these days collecting his royalties and rocking out with his band, and the other half smoking and drinking on the driveway, buried under the hood of that car! I mean, I know he likes to take it out for a quick run at the track every now and then, but I never thought I'd see him on the street scene!"

Nick suddenly found his earlier anxiety slowly building up inside of him once again. Charlie Clayton was nothing if not completely unpredictable; he was extremely talented at anything he put his mind to, and was well-known for meeting any challenge, physical, musical, or otherwise, head-on and with often surprising results. Knowing him, there had to be at least twenty or thirty thousand dollars worth of upgrades under the hood of that Chevelle!

He'd been priveleged to ride shotgun while Charlie had taken a few laps on the track in it once, and Charlie had scared him out of his mind with the way he handled the heavy beast, ripping through every corner as if it was his last day on Earth! Suddenly, the new engine he'd recently swapped in was beginning to look at least a little bit inadequate...

"Don't let him get to you, man..." Jake muttered, almost to himself, as he reached a paw back to scratch the fur behind his ears nervously.

"Says the guy who looks like he's about to shit himself?!" Nick blurted out, turning his head to face the road in front of them once again.

"Yeah, alright, fine! This might be harder than we thought it'd be, but so what? Just 'cause he's my Dad doesn't mean we can't fucking smoke him! Now focus, man, we gotta win this!"

Jake's paws were shaking slightly as he pulled out his cigarette pack, and stuck another one between his teeth. Lighting it up with his zippo, he barely had time to take a drag, before Nick yanked it out of his muzzle and stuck it into his own.

"HEY!"

"Fuck off! I'm the one with the problems right now! I feel like a fucking amateur about to step into the ring with Tyson or Ali! Don't worry about me; I'll drive like we're gonna fucking die! You sit there and navigate! Now get ready, here comes the bag man!"

The short, stocky human with the money-filled backpack slung securely over his shoulders had threaded his way between the cars, coming to a stop at the head of the line. In his hands, he held an orange flare gun, the kind that was often included as part of an emergency survival kit. Looking towards each driver at the line, and receiving knowing revs from their engines in return, his eyes locked onto Nick's as he gave the tiger a single, silent nod. Nick returned the gesture, tapping his foot against the gas pedal twice as he signalled his willingness to continue.

"Let's fucking ride..." he muttered under his breath, effortlessly spitting the now-finished cigarette into the ashtray wedged securely into one of the cup holders.

With one final shout towards the spectators on the sidelines, the man raised the flare gun towards the sky, and with his free hand, began to visibly count down from five. When he reached 'one,' Nick's breath caught in his throat as the gun went into the air, and an eternity seemed to pass as the man slowly squeezed his index finger around the trigger.

BANG!

All at once, the hazy nighttime air was penetrated by the sounds of multiple engines roaring to life as every driver, Nick included, shifted their cars into gear and stomped their feet down on the gas pedals, sending massive amounts of smoke behind them as their well-tuned machines rocketed over the starting line.

Jake and Nick were suddenly pressed back into their seats by the g-forces as Nick threw the stick into second gear and slammed onto the gas, the car propelling itself forward faster than he had ever seen before. Allowing himself a short glimpse to his right, he tried not to stare as the entire front end of Charlie's Chevelle suddenly raised off the ground, the heavy car peeling out in a sustained wheelie as the sheer amount of torque produced by its engine threatened to rip the chassis to shreds. With a loud 'thud,' the muscle car landed on the street, its nose slightly ahead of the others, as Nick quickly shifted from second gear to third in an attempt to at least keep by its side.

With the Chevelle having a slight lead, all five cars hurtled down the dirty, cracked street, struggling to remain side-by-side as they quickly approached the merger which would turn this four-lane back road into a two-lane stretch of certain death. Nick could almost feel someone edging closer to his car as he struggled to keep his position next to Charlie. At his sides, two of the other cars had suddenly tapped their brakes as soon as they'd realized they weren't going to be able to overtake them, and the five vehicles quickly slotted into two distinct lines behind the Chevelle and the 240 as the merger grew closer by the second.

The road suddenly turned from decades-old asphalt and loose gravel to the smooth, black river of modern-day pavement as Nick quickly smacked the stick into fourth gear and slammed his foot down on the gas once again.

"Right, we're coming up on the feeder road!" Jake shouted, motioning with one claw extended as the lamps above the raised inner-loop freeway came into view. "Get ready to hang a right onto the ramp! I think I see the blockers up ahead!"

Nick could almost see them as well. The two blockers, a pair of menacing, jacked-up trucks, hastily backed away from the entrance to the freeway on-ramp as the racers barrelled towards it at an alarming speed, the spectators on either side of them cheering wildly as they sped in tandem towards the most dangerous part of the course. If they were lucky, there were no cops patrolling the loop tonight. If not, well...

Nick shook his head to clear away the alarming thoughts as the Chevelle next to him suddenly began to pick up speed. In an instant, Charlie had overtaken him by a full car length, swerving to put his rear bumper directly in front of Nick as they all poured onto the freeway in one long, adrenaline-fuelled line. After the last car had passed, Nick caught sight of the two large pickups in his rearview mirror, moving to block off the freeway entrance ramps as they continued on. At least some people were doing their jobs...

The two-lane road immediately became six lanes of chaos as Nick heard a few of the other drivers attempting to speed up in order to pass him. He caught sight of the old Supra as it wove its way through the others, coming right up against his rear bumper in what seemed like a matter of seconds.

"Fuck!" Jake exclaimed, turning back to look into the pair of bright headlights which suddenly shone throughout the cab. "He must've seriously revamped that old 2JZ!"

"Yeah, tell me about it!" Nick shouted back as he kept his concentration on the road ahead of them, the two turbochargers under his hood releasing their piercing wail as they struggled to keep up with the throttle. "What the hell does your dad have under his hood, anyway?!"

"You think he tells me?! That car is like his baby; he only ever lets James come near it! If I ever popped the hood, I'm pretty sure he'd knock me the fuck out!"

The rest of their conversation was drowned out by the roar of engines as Nick struggled to keep up with the elder Shepherd. Even from this vantage point, he could already tell that passing Charlie was going to be a challenge, if he even managed to do so at all. The old, smoke-stained bastard was driving like a bat fresh out of hell. No matter how it ended, this was going to leave mark on his pride.

As they continued to speed along the empty highway, Nick caught sight of Jake lighting up yet another cigarette as he stood on the gas pedal and tried his best to keep up.

"Hey! Light me one of those, will ya?!" he shouted over the sound of the engine.

Jake nodded his head and stuck another cigarette into his muzzle, passing the one he'd just lit over to his friend. Nick took the smoke between his teeth and sucked down on it deeply, drawing in a sharp breath from one corner of his mouth as he struggled to concentrate on the task at hand. Charlie began to speed up slightly, widening the distance between them.

Nick grumbled under his breath as he took yet another drag from the cigarette, not removing his paws from the steering wheel. Jake reached over his body to roll down the window slightly, letting in a loud rush of air as the smoke started to pour out into the dusty, smog-filled night.

Just then, it happened. It was almost as if the wind had been pulled out of their sails. Nick's eyes went wide and Jake drew in a tense breath as a figure in the shadows far behind them suddenly came to life.

The siren began to howl.

The red and blue lights began to flash.

Somebody was about to go down tonight, and it seemed as if the fury was already being directed at them.

"OH, FUCK!" Nick screamed at the top of his lungs, as he caught sight of the car steadily picking up the pace in his rearview mirror. Almost instinctively, he drove the gas pedal down into the floor, willing his car to speed up as he suddenly forgot that there was a race going on at all.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!" Jake's voice echoed, as the coyote turned around in his seat to get a better look. "We're gonna have to run! This race just turned into a fucking cop chase! Forget the stake, man, nobody's making it to the finish tonight!"

"Don't you think I know that?!" Nick yelled back, incredulously.

The sound of Jake's cell phone blasting "Cry Freedom," By Chaos Theory, his father's band, suddenly caused both of them to sit bolt upright in their seats.

"What the fu--"

"PICK IT UP!" Nick shouted, slamming the shifter into sixth gear as he kept his foot on the gas. The sound of the transmission grinding loudly told him that he'd fucked up the movements. He'd completely forgotten the clutch pedal.

"Yeah?!" Jake's voice called out as he raised the phone up to one ear.

"Put me on speaker!" Came the familiar voice at the other end. Jake did so, tapping the speaker icon nervously, as he tossed the phone down into the center console.

"You guys seeing those lights behind us?!"

"YEAH! It's fucking obvious, dad, what do you want us to do?!" Jake yelled back.

"Listen to me! First, get ready! When I tell you to, I want to you to shift to neutral, and stand on the fucking brakes! Nick, you're there, right?! You can hear this?"

"Yeah, I hear you, man! What're you up to?!"

"Just do it! You'll see!" Charlie's voice yelled. Jake could hear his father panting loudly into the receiver as he struggled to make sense of the words.

Nick and Jake exchanged worried glances. Jake shrugged his shoulders as he met his friend's gaze. "Fuck it! Do what he says!"

Ahead of them, the Chevelle suddenly moved into the next lane on the right. The muscle car began to slow down a bit, until the two cars were neck-and-neck. Craning his head to the right, Nick saw the driver's-side window roll down, revealing the determined face of Charlie Clayton, his eyes appearing to glow with a fire he'd never seen in them before. Glancing in their direction, the elder Shepherd gave Nick a terse nod, his paws gripping the steering wheel as he continued to gasp loudly for air over the speaker. Behind them, the other cars quickly sped up, the Challenger and Porsche peeling away onto a nearby off-ramp as the Supra attempted to gain the lead.

"If the fucker calls backup, we're all screwed!" came Charlie's voice over the phone.

"So what're we gonna do about it?!" Nick shouted back, his heart leaping into his throat.

"You two are gonna take the next exit and head back to the house! Take the long way, and leave this one to me! It's coming up in maybe two seconds! Be ready to brake, and swerve to the right!"

"Got it!"

Behind them, the police cruiser had begun to catch up. Its black-and-white exterior flashed by continuously under the street lamps as it edged its way closer, the driver behind the wheel milking its Interceptor package for all it was worth.

"NOW!"

The sound of screeching tires and smoking rubber filled the air as the two cars suddenly slammed on the brakes. Charlie had braked sooner, and quickly slid behind Nick as they suddenly began to decelerate.

In what seemed like an instant, the Chevelle turned around completely, performing a one-eighty spin, as Charlie quickly thrust the shifter into reverse.

"HOLY SHIT!" Nick exclaimed.

"If I don't make it home, Jake, tell James I fucking love him! And you better not pull any shit!"

"DAD! What the fuck are you thinking?!"

"I think you've already done enough time, kid! I'll take this one! Don't worry, if I burn this car, You and James know where to find me! The old apartment! You know where it is!"

With that, the call suddenly terminated. Nick's breath caught in his throat as he heard the tone. Jake's eyes seemed to go wide. Flicking his eyes towards his rearview mirror, Nick could only watch as the scene suddenly unfolded.

A loud screech pierced their eardrums as Charlie suddenly braked, before shifting his car into third gear. The loud roar from the Chevelle's engine pierced the sky as Charlie began to rocket towards the cop car, all thoughts of winning the race completely forgotten.

Nick struggled to shift his vision between the mirror and the road as he tried his best to see what was going on. He barely managed to witness what happened next.

The sound of the engines suddenly dropped away. Next to him, Nick could vaguely hear Jake's scream as the coyote watched his father barrel towards the other car, veering quickly to one direction, before swerving in towards its side. The sound of crashing steel assaulted their eardrums as the heavy muscle car managed to catch the cruiser directly in its front wheel-well, causing both cars to flip, spinning wildly as they crashed down onto the pavement.

Nick couldn't say anything as his best friend's loud, piercing howl assaulted his ears. His mouth suddenly went wide, dropping the lit cigarette into his lap. But he couldn't feel it, as his best friend's sudden, agonizing wail started to reverberate through his vision.

"NOOOOO!"

---

That was Chapter 3 of the Family. I'm currently working on the next one. Sorry for the cliffhanger, as usual. I always feel like I gotta apologize when things just don't work out...

--Ken.