Race Life Pt. 9
Race Life
Pt. 9
The track was filled with the sound of race cars, the V8s just waiting to be released. The grumbling of my car was louder than I remembered, but I was on high alert.
Slowly making our way around the track, we passed the grandstands. I could hear the crowd cheering on, signs waving in the air. I quickly regained my thoughts and started to aggressively turn the car left and right, heating up the tires for max grip. I also checked if all the gauges were reading correctly and I fastened my seatbelt as tight as it could go.
"Hey dadio, how many laps are we running?" I asked.
At first there was no response, but a click came on.
*Click*
"Eighty buddy. No pit stops or nothing. Just go go go." He replied.
"Alright, just give me the heads up on the green."
"Will do."
I brought my attention back to the cars around me and started to swerve again. By now the pace car was exiting turn four as I was entering three.
"Lights out, green next time by!" Dad said over the radio.
I kept silent and shook my head, not that it mattered or anything. The pace car pulled into the pits on the exit of two, leaving the front row to maintain a steady speed until the green flag was dropped. My hand tightened on the gear selector, the front row was about to exit four.
"Green green green!" Yelled dad on the radio.
Every car lurched forward quickly, including myself. I shifted up to three as I entered turn four. The car above me was close, too close for my liking. I slammed the accelerator to floor as I exited turn four, upshifting to fourth. Cars were still all around me, I had to be patient.
The car above me was driving it hard into the corners, trying to pass me on the high side. I wasn't going to let that happen. Entering the corners, I started to drive it in, attempting to get all I could. For five laps we ran side-by-side. By doing this, the cars in front of us began to pull away and the cars behind us were becoming flustered. I had to make my move.
Entering turn one, I let the car slide up the track, making slight contact with the car above me. He got loose and that's all I needed. I successfully passed him, but he was hot on my tail.
*Click*
"Hey Al, he's not too happy about that. Stay clear of him and put it into overdrive!" Said dad on the radio.
With a somewhat clear track ahead of me, it allowed me to drive the car more freely. I started to pull away from the car behind me and was making good progress on the cars in front of me. It didn't take long before I caught the next target in front of me.
I said over the radio, "Who's in front of me?"
"Tom Gatler. It's his first race out here so his experience is zip to none. Be polite now." Dad said over the radio seriously.
I pulled right on his rear bumper and gave him a love tap, warning him that I was there and wanted by. I followed him for another lap-and-a-half and grew frustrated. He needed to move, now. Exiting turn two, I drove right up to his bumper, hitting him forcibly as he entered turn three. This caused his car to go up the track, opening the door for me. I pinched it through the gap and saw him in my rear view mirror.
"Any damage on the nose?" I asked.
"Mhhmm.. None from what I can see. Be more careful when you hot someone. A more experienced driver won't let you get away with that!"
The radio went silent and I got in my groove, passing a car here and there. Lap 25 approached and I noticed there was smoke on the other side of the track.
"Al, caution is out, slow it down. A car spun ahead. Watch out for any debris, we don't want to have to change tires."
"Will do." I replied.
I slowed the car down and got behind the car that was in front of me. I downshifted to third, then second. I took another glance at my gauges, everything looked fine. The pace car made its way back out on the track, collecting all the cars behind it.
"Hey dad, where are we running?"
*Click*
"Fifteenth. Not too shabby. Just keep those fenders nice and clean. I think we have a top-ten car, what do you think?"
"Most definitely! It's a little loose off of entry, but besides that, we're golden."
"Good to here. Settle in, the pace car lights are off."
Again, the pace car pulled off of the track as the front row got the green.
"Green flag! Green flag!" Dad shouted.
I quickly rowed through the gears until I was in fourth and put the hammer down. The car above me didn't even bother to fight over the position; he willingly gave it to me. What a nice change for once. Looking ahead, I saw that there were a few rows of cars ahead of me still not single file. It was my turn to get pushy.
The 77 car was in front of me, running the low line. Above him was the 09 car running the high line. Both of them seemed to be dead loose off of the turns, worse than me. I was just going to have to wait until one made an error. That wasn't long. Just three laps after the wave of the green again the 77 car drove it way too hard in the corner, causing him to wash up to a higher grove. The 09 car made it by and I shot the opening that was there for me. Exiting turn four, his front left quarter panel was even with my right rear quarter panel. I would surely get him in the next turn. I drove the car nicely in, he gained a little but I hit the sweet spot exiting two. I managed to pass him.
I made quick work of the 09 and set my sites on the next three cars ahead of me. I managed to pass two in three laps, as dad came on the radio.
"Half way home buddy. Lets see if you can get some more spots, you're running eleventh right now."
A huge grin came on my face; I was nearly in the top-ten! It took me a couple of laps to get around the 91 car, but I managed. As I did I realized that lapped traffic was either going to help me or hurt me.
There was three lapped cars ahead of me. They all ran the upper line, which allowed me to easily pass them. The next car I needed to get by was the 4 car.
I approached his rear bumper, staying right on him.
I said to myself, "I want ninth, so move your ass!"
Entering turn one, I shoved the nose of my car under the bumper of the 4, lifting his rear wheels off from the ground for a quick second. He shot directly up the track which allowed me to get by.
"Ha!"
"Allan, take it easy!"
I looked in my mirror and saw him right behind me. He drove it in hard in the next corner, hard enough to make contact with me. He slammed me rear bumper, getting me loose but I held on to the bottom grove. I was driving the wheels off the thing just not to get wrecked by this pissed off driver. Again, he hit me, almost spinning me out.
"Oh hell no!"
"Alla-"
"Dad! I'm driving! Now, he's gunna get his!"
I moved up on the track, allowing him to almost clear me. I swept across the track to the bottom, clipping his rear bumper as I did. His rear end began to fish tail and he couldn't hold it. He spun out on the home stretch. His car went into the infield safely, not hitting any cars or causing any problems. The yellow flag waved for the second time.
"Allan! What is wrong with you? You drive like your mother, you know that? Full of road-rage! Jeeze!" Dad said angrily.
"Dad, it's all good. He won't bother us again."
"For your sake, I hope he doesn't!"
We lined up behind the pace car again. Ahead, I caught a glimpse of Trip's bright car. I would soon reach him. I didn't want to. I knew he would give me the hardest time passing him. I just couldn't wreck the guy. That would make things far more worse. I had to think of something. I was running out of caution laps as I did.
The pace car's lights turned off, dad gave me the signal to get ready.
"Alright Al, the lights are off. Get ready for the green."
"Ok, where am I running? I can't seem to keep track!"
"Ninth. Almost to the front buddy. Just a heads up, Trip is running in the fourth spot. By the looks of it, he's gunna go for the lead. There's only 36 laps left, so be smart."
I gripped the wheel tight; I wanted to beat Trip so bad. I couldn't let him win, I just couldn't.
"Okay, thanks for the info." I replied.
"Yup. Alright, get ready, get ready... green green!" Dad yelled into the radio.
All eight cars in front of me took off like a rocket, I closely behind. Reaching fourth gear entering turn one, I stayed right on the car in front of me. I couldn't let the leaders get too far; I was going to have to make some early passes.
Exiting two, I got a huge run on the car in front of me. He had the inside, which forced me to go high. The car felt like I was skating on ice. The bits of rubber that washed up the track got on my right side wheels. Entering three, we were neck and neck. The car rolling through the center, I mashed the throttle coming out. I successfully passed the guy below me.
"Eighth place." Dad said on the radio.
The next five laps passed by quickly, but I managed to pass two cars, moving me up to sixth. The inside of the car was blistering hot. It felt as if I were in a portable sauna. My ears were beginning to get sore from the helmet. Sweat fell from my upper brow, obstructing my view. My feet were the worst though. Being by the engine, all the heat transfers down to the pedal area. I just wanted this race to be over. I quickly shook my head from side to side, I needed to concentrate.
The leaders began to catch lapped traffic yet again and to my relief, the slow guys slowed them up. The top six cars became bunched together, bumper to bumper. I decided to follow the 42 car in front of me to see how it would play out. I noticed that Trip had moved to second and was knocking on the leader's door.
"Allan, go high. Take the high lane, they're leaving it wide open. The two lapped cars are side-by-side with Trip and the car behind him. You'll make up more time." Said dad, with a hint of aggravation in his voice.
He didn't have to tell me twice. On the backstretch, I moved the car up a lane, getting a good run on the car in front of me. Entering three, I drove it in deep, clearing the car below me. My front-left quarter panel was even with the 37's right-rear panel, my next target. On the front stretch, I managed to overtake the 37 with ease. In front of him there was a gap, I decided to shoot for it. I jerked the wheel quickly to the left, filling the small space in a heartbeat. I looked in my mirror and was surprised that the 37 car backed off a bit. Looking ahead once more, I saw that there were only two cars separating me from Trip. I was running out of time.
"Dad! How many laps do I have left?" I asked demandingly.
"Enough. Go get 'em."
"Da-"
"Allan, forget how many laps, you have time! Drive the wheels of the thing!"
He was right, if I thought about it I would surely jinx myself. My head back in the game, I set my sights on the two cars in front of me, the 18 and 56. Three cars lengths separated me from the 18's bumper. Crossing the finish line I drove the car hard into one, gaining precious time. Rolling through the center, my front bumper tapped the 18's. I was there. Coming out of two I stayed right on top of him, I wasn't going to let him get away. On the backstretch, I moved the car slightly to the left, getting the 18 loose. He bobbled going into three, causing him to move up the track to the upper grove. I took the opening and shot the car on the bottom lane, mashing the accelerator to the floor, hoping it would stick mid-center and out. My car lost traction, and I scooted up the track. Thankfully, the 18 also moved up, giving me the much needed room. Coming out of four, I nabbed the position from the 18, putting me in third. I didn't even look back, I had to make quick work of the car in front of me just like I did the previous car.
The 56 was directly in front of me. I noticed he was running mid-center of the track, taking up both the bottom and top lanes. This guy was a road hog by the looks of it.
"Dad, if this guy doesn't pick a lane, I'll choose one for him!" I yelled over the radio.
"Go for it Allan, move his ass up!" Dad replied with excitement.
In turn three, about a car length separated me from the 56. He still didn't have a dedicated lane, talk about frustrating! Out of four my car was on the low lane, there's no way I could pass going high, I would lose time. For a whole lap I followed the 56, giving him a nudge here and there. I wanted him to know I was there, and that I wanted that position.
Crossing the finish line and going into turn one, I used the bumper. He kept it planted through the turn though, not giving in. My anger boiled over, I had enough of this shit. Out of four I nailed him hard in the left rear. His car got dead sideways, the nose of his car pointing towards the infield. However, he managed to save it. Being sideways, he lost time. It allowed me to go around him on the outside and make the pass, moving me into second. One more.
"Alright Al, you've got fifteen laps to get it done buddy. I thought I'd tell you that, you know what to do. Don't do anything you would regret." Dad said casually.
"Got it. Lets keep the radio silent please. It's just me and Trip." I replied, dedicated to catch his ass.
"10-4."
Ahead, I saw Trip had about six car lengths on me. I was definitely faster, but it would probably take three or four laps to catch him. I couldn't make any mistakes from here on out. Two laps passed by quickly, and I managed to cut his lead in half. By the looks of it, a lapped car ahead was holding Trip up. Just what I needed! I took a quick glance in my mirror, and I was shocked what I saw. The 56 car was gaining his position back. His car was surely getting better on this long run. Great.
Regaining my attention towards Trip, I noticed he cleared the car in front of him. The lapped car still ran high by the time I got to his door, so I made quick work of him. Trip was only ahead of me by two car lengths as I passed the start-finish line.
Trip angled his car deep into one, scrubbing some of his speed off. This allowed me to be right on his back bumper as he exited turn two. A huge grin came across my face. This was it. Coming out of four the two of our cars passed the line, nose to tail.
Dad's voice came over the radio quickly, "Ten to go."
Turns three and four passed by quickly. I managed to make no gain or loss on Trip. Our cars seemed to be dead even, this was going to be tricky. I still had to worry about the 56 car behind me. I took another quick glance and noticed that he had gained probably about a tenth more on us. I told myself that when it came five to go, I would use the bumper.
I followed Trip around the track for the next five laps, making sure not to let my nose get off of him. The start-finish line came up, and as we passed it, I heard the words I was waiting for.
"Five to go."
I moved my car up to the high lane, I had to try something. As turn one came, I managed to dive the car harder than Trip. It seemed as I was going to pass him, but mid-center and off he beat me. I once again pulled in behind him. I decided to try the same tactic in turns three and four. The exact same thing happened; I gained on him on entry, but lost all of it on exit.
Our cars crossed the line, four to go. This time I pushed Trip's car into one. The rear end of his car became loose, but he held on to it through the corner. On the backstretch, I tried the move again going into three. This time he couldn't hold on to it and his car washed up the track slightly. There wasn't enough room for me to go low, so I back off yet again.
Crossing the line there was three to go. I had to make something happen. As Trip entered turn one, I stuck my nose even lower, clipping his left rear quarter panel. His car got out of shape instantly, but he still managed to hold on to it coming out of two.
"What the fuck? Move!" I yelled out loud.
The two cars roared going down the backstretch. I could hear people cheering in the grandstands; they were liking the show we were putting on. I just had about enough of it. Going into three, I drove the car as hard as it would go. I hit Trip pretty hard. I could hear the medal of the car tearing; his rear bumper was smashed up. I could only imagine what the impact did to my car. He went straight up the track, allowing me to get the bottom lane. Coming out of four, our cars were even crossing the line.
"Two to go!" Yelled dad.
Trip and I both drove our cars way too hard into one. The two of us washed up the track. I thought Trip might have gotten into the wall, but he didn't. He got a run on the outside of me getting out of two. I cursed at myself for being an idiot. Our cars were yet again even going down the backstretch. I looked back in my mirror and saw the 56 car was right behind me. He was still in the game.
Entering three, Trip and I ran side-by-side, with the 56 right behind me. We stayed that way through the whole turn and exiting four, I saw the white flag wave above.
"Final lap! Go Allan, you got it!" Dad screamed over the radio.
We were a pack of three tightly together. If any of us made a mistake it would probably cost the other. We all had to be careful going into one, that didn't happen. The 56 car gave me a huge push, which caused me to move up the track only a little bit, but it was a big enough hit that I tapped Trip's car. I kept on the gas, and I still had the lead coming out of two. Trip was still by my side, not letting up. Down the backstretch the 56 car was slamming hard into me. I only had to hold on to it for half a lap, I could do it. Boy was I wrong. The biggest shock came in turn four.
Entering three, Trip and I were neck and neck. It was going to be between me and him. Mid-center, the 56 car hit me hard in the right rear quarter panel, sending me straight up the track towards Trip. It was a violent hit. My front end hit Trip in the driver's door, sending his car hard in the wall. On impact, the front of his car was torn to bits, disappearing in an instant. It was such a hard hit that his car barrel rolled down turn four, a-fire, ending up on all fours. The front of my car was smashed in as well, but not nearly as bad as Trips. My car washed to the bottom of the track, coming to rest right by Trips. To my horror, as I looked over, nothing was left of his car.
"Trip!" I yelled.
Cars flew past us as they took the flag. I could hear people yelling, the announcer in shock at just what happened. Still looking over, I saw that the fire was no longer burning, but I was still scared inside. I took the wheel off of the car and then scrambled to take my helmet off. I was shaking; I could barely get a hold of the strap. Once I did, I reached over to the window net and yanked it down.
"Allan! Are you alright?" Said dad over the radio.
"Yes! But Trip..."
My voice trailed off and I ignored everything dad was saying over the radio. I climbed out of the car and fell as I did. I didn't care, I got right back up, threw my helmet to the ground, and ran over to the driver's side of Trip's car. The roof of the car was about three inches lower than it should have been. It looked as if Trip's car was a smashed up soda can, utterly destroyed. Reaching the side, I threw my gloves off and took down his window net.
I yelled, "Trip! Are you okay? I'm so sorry! Trip?"
There was no response. My heart began to pound. I took my head out of the car and yelled out, "Help!"
An ambulance soon came over, as did the safety crew. A German shepherd approached me and tried to push me away from the wreck. I resisted, I wasn't going anywhere.
"Please, Allan, back up. We need room to see if he's alright." He said in a sincere tone.
"Alright? He's not fucking alright! He's not moving!" I yelled at him.
A tear rolled down my eye, two more safety crew men came over and grabbed my arms. I tried to fight back but it was no use, I was exhausted. They took me to the nearest ambulance and set me inside. They quickly shut the doors and the van began to drive off. Looking out the back window, I could see people trying to get Trip out of the car. A stretcher lay by, this couldn't be good. I began to sob in my lap, that asshole in the 56 car ruined everything. I pounded the bed I was sitting on in frustration. That got the medic's attention.
"Allan, please calm down. What just happened is horrific, but I need to see if you're okay." She said.
I shook my head in disbelief. I just left my best friend's side. I needed to get away from these people. The medic approached me and sat next to me. She put her arm around me and said, "Honey, I've seen my fair share of crashes working here. The important thing right now is to make sure you're alright. Will you please cooperate with me?"
I looked up to her, she must have been older. She was a brown colored equine, with wrinkles around her eyes. She seemed like the grandma type. In defeat, I accepted.
On the way to the medical facility area she gave me the short checkup. I barely complied to her requests and still shed a tear here and there. Once the ambulance stopped, the rear doors opened, and I was greeted by dad, mom, and Gwen. I hopped out and mom hugged me.
"Allan! Are you alright?" She stammered.
"Mom, I'm fine. Where's Trip?" I demanded.
Dad walked up to me and put his paw on my shoulder, saying, "Allan, it was a bad crash. You're lucky you walked away from that. Trip isn't so lucky. He has been taken to the hospital."
I couldn't believe it, Trip was hurt badly, maybe even dead. I collapsed on the ground and threw up. Gwen came around me and put her arms around me. She smelled of her sweet perfume, it was soothing. I grabbed her arms and held them tight. I didn't want to let go.
The medic came over and talked to my parents. It seemed as if I was good to go. Dad walked over and said, "You're good to go Al."
I looked up to him and said, "Where's the keys to the truck. I'm not going to abandon my best friend's side!"
He replied, "Allan, there's nothing we can do. They don't want a bunch of people over there."
"I'm not a bunch of people! Give me the fucking keys or so help myself I will fucking walk there!"
I lost it, why wouldn't they give me the stupid keys? I wanted to yell and scream out in frustration.
Gwen then chirped up, "Please, can we go?"
Mom then butted in, "Steve, give me the keys, I will take them. Now!"
My dad handed over the keys and my mom grabbed them quickly. She looked at Gwen and said, "Gwen, get him up and lets go."
Gwen helped me up and I held on to her tightly. We followed my mom towards pit road. As we walked, I heard people cheering and clapping. I looked around and saw that they were all looking at me. I couldn't believe it, people actually cheering for me? A large bull came up to, I recognized his face. It was Jake.
"Hey buddy. Everything alright? I'm sorry what happened to your friend."
I replied in a quiet voice, "Thanks Jake, I'm fine. We are going to the hospital right now."
Jake nodded his head and Gwen turned to him, "Jake, you can come if you want."
"Nah, it's your guys' thing. Let me know what's going on. Best of luck to you both, from me and Ashley."
He gave me a pat and walked in a different direction. The three of us walked for a couple more minutes until we finally reached the truck. I climbed into the front passenger's seat and slammed the door. I was ready to go.
"Allan, you don't want to change first?"
"Mom, please, just drive. Hurry!"
She nodded her head and stepped on the gas pedal. The truck accelerated quickly, I was a little surprised. Exiting pit lane, we made our way to the highway. Thankfully we beat all the people leaving the race, so we didn't have to wait in traffic or anything. On the highway, I saw that my mom was doing 90mph, she was hauling. It took about fifteen minutes to get into town. Mom slowed down in the city limits and made her way to the hospital. Ten minutes later, we finally arrived.
"Allan, I'll drop you off in front."
I didn't even reply. As she stopped, I jumped out of the truck and didn't even shut the door. It was a good thing Gwen was there. I ran through the doors and straight to the clerk.
"Can I hel-"
I cut her short, "Trip! Where is he?"
"Oh, um, the race incident? Lets see... he's in critical care right now. Nobody can see him right now, but you are more than welcome to wait in the lobby just outside. Fourth floor honey."
That's all I needed. I rushed to the nearest elevator and hit the button to go up. The elevator ringed and I stepped in, hitting the number four as I did. Thankfully there was nobody in the elevator with me because I just let it all out. I cried like a little baby. He was in critical care, that wasn't good. The ring came again and the door opened. I wiped away my tears and ran into the lobby, spotting his parents. The look on their faces hurt me, I was genuinely scared.