4-134 - 13th December – 5 p.m. – Market

Mom had made the food hot, piping hot. It filled my heart and soul with some hope. But I saw the sadness in her eyes. “We’re not staying,” she said. “We have no chance of making any of the rent demands. Even if you win tonight.”

“I’ve a hundred credits left,” I said. “I also earned twenty minutes online of credits, I could sell those.”

Tsomak shook his head. “We’re not going to do it,” he said. “Best just enjoy tonight for what it is. See your friends and win, but keep the credits.”

He’d already resigned himself to being kicked out. He moved to the living room, head low and feet shuffling over the wooden floors, while Mom and I cleaned up. “Didn’t he get any work today?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “Without you, we wouldn’t have eaten. We need to move, now rather than later. What I can get for the stuff in here would give us a little hope back there.”

“I’ll win that race tonight,” I said. “You can have it all.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Mom said and put the last of the dishes away. “Keep your money. You might need it.”

“Mom,” I said. “I—I’ll be home later.”

Mom pulled me into her, and I hugged her tight. “Okay, be sure you’re safe.”

“I will,” I whispered. “Always.”

I moved to sit in the living room with Tsomak for a few minutes, checking the time. The guys would be meeting up soon. But I needed to see him, to talk to him. “You got a plan at all?” I asked him.

He glanced at the kitchen, but Mom was still busying herself with things. I had no idea what, but she stayed out of the way.

“She thinks we can head back to Roterdon,” he said and sighed.

“I know. Is that not an option?”

“Only one set of prospects for me,” he said. “I can get work, but not in Roterdon.”

“Where?”

“Molsk,” he said.

I shivered as images filled my head, and not good ones. “You can’t. That would be suicide for me.”

“You can’t come,” he answered honestly. “Suicide would be the easy way out.”

I didn’t know what to say, what to do. There was literally nothing left but for him to take the worst jobs in the underground factories.

“Look, Rusty, you’re nearly eighteen. You know the way the world, our world, works. Your mom and I can live down there for quite some time, save up, do okay. But we can’t stay here. I’m not fit enough.”

Now I knew why he’d used my nickname earlier. I felt it, but I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded.

“When we’ve got some funds, we can resurface.”

“You really think that?” I asked him.

“Yes.” There was a long pause, then he said, “You need to make your own way, and it ain’t down in Molsk.”

I stayed silent. Had it really come to this? Maybe . . . I could do okay. I had friends; I had job prospects.

Tsomak kept his eyes on me. “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Promise me you’ll look after my mom.”

He didn’t answer me, and my stomach churned.

I stood and said, “I’ve got a race to win, then hopefully one more good sleep before . . .”

“I’ll look after her. I promise.” Tsomak stood with me, and I made to move. “I said I’d look after her and you the day I moved in, I’v—”

“You did.” I held my hand out to him. “You trained me in everything you know. Thank you.”

We shook hands, and I felt bad. Like “this was the last time” bad.

I couldn’t do anything but give my mom another hug and kiss, then make a run for our track.

“You’re late,” Daisy said.

“Had to work late,” I replied and gave her a quick hug. “Then had to get dinner from the market with my wages.”

“Have you eaten enough?” Bail asked. “I’ve got some leftovers, if you need?”

I patted my stomach. “I got fed at the hotel today, too, but thanks. I’ll take it for breakfast if you don’t mind?”

“Fuck no, you know my sister always makes too much. I’d have enough for days if I didn’t palm it off on you.”

“She just wants you to grow strong!” I laughed.

“Fat is more like,” Daisy added, and wobbled an imaginary belly at him.

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Bail threw a dirty cloth at her, which she anticipated and caught to throw back.

I moved to the car. “How’s she looking?” I asked.

“Regulator’s working like a charm.” He grinned. “Performance is up twenty percent.”

“Twenty percent, that’s amazing.”

“Come on,” Daisy said. “Get those clothes off and get into the leather; it’s much safer.”

“Yeah,” I said, then glanced down. I’d hated putting the dirty clothes back on after my shower, but they were all I had worth anything, even if dirty.

“I’m sorry.” I ripped my clothes off, and Daisy helped me into the race leathers we had stored. “I just went suddenly tired from the work. Don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Car’s all set,” Bail reassured me. “The other races, so far, went well. No one’s lucked out, though.”

“That is good. That means I have a chance to take a few leads tonight and, if possible, win. How’s the circuit looking?” I asked and glanced over at the map on the wall.

“No slick or debris,” Bail said.

Our car . . . wasn’t anything special. This was just us, literally throwing everything and anything together to get a running vehicle over the years. As a small team, five of us, we’d put all of our extra credits and our winnings back into it to upgrade. The latest cost, a simple fuel regulator that would make such a difference. Hopefully, it was one that would win me this race.

I tapped the roof of the car; it was a box on four wheels with a sort-of engine, and I do mean a sort-of engine. It ran on scraps, and if I wasn’t eating the food Bail had brought, it would run on that, too.

My competition, Dimi, didn’t have much more, either. His car had four solid wheels, and he made everyone know it was far superior to our little rust bucket.

“You really think that’s got a chance against me today?” Dimi asked.

His laughing and jeering as I was rolled out of the small garage got my back up. After the day I’d had, the notice my family had been given, and the fact that I would be on my own from now on, I didn’t need to see his gloating ass. I scrunched my fists, breathing in slow and steady.

He opened his mouth, and more hurtful words poured out. “Heard you’re getting kicked out. ’Bout time. They need the room for someone who’s worth it.”

“Fuck off, Dimi,” I mouthed at him.

“Sore spot, huh?” He laughed again. “Should have known. Better just get this over with, then. I need to put you on your ass and take the titles tonight, too.”

He turned his head. It continued bobbing, and I knew he was still laughing. “Prick,” I said to anyone who was listening. No one was.

Once he was in his car, he turned to me and nodded.

I gave him a nod back and slid into my own car. The feel of the tight bucket seat around me was comforting.

“All ready. You good?” I heard Daisy ask on the internal comms.

“All good.” I flexed my hands on the wheel and turned to watch the lights above us.

The small track stretched out before me, beckoning me forward with its twists and turns. I knew every inch of it by heart, having raced here countless times before. But tonight was different. We all knew this might be the last race we would get to run before Artem’s City Enforcers, ACE, shut us down. They were getting faster out to our location every time we raced. I could feel the tension in the air as I revved my engine and waited for the lights to change.

As I pushed my car into first gear, the gears screeched in protest. “She’s not going to last without a rebuild.” My friend Bail’s voice crackled over the car’s comms. “Probably only got this one race left in her.”

I knew he was right. We had all been expecting this day to come, and I had a lot riding on this race—not just my own pride, but the money of my fellow racers, as well. I didn’t want my last race to be this shitty view of the streets here. With my twenty minutes time off Velas, I slipped into Aug-World.

The streets in front of me changed, and I was fully immersed inside on a perfect racetrack. This, this made Aug-World worth it. I relished the thrill, spectators cheering all around us. I thought of the stakes, and my stomach twisted nervously remembering the slice of cake I had wolfed down before the race. I cursed myself for being so foolish, knowing it would only keep repeating on me and making me feel sick.

The lights flickered.

Almost . . . almost.

The lights changed, and I floored the gas pedal, my gears still protesting as I pushed the car to her limits. The city tunnel came into view. We would pass through a branching tunnel and under one of the supply rivers, then go through a total of four turns before returning right back where we had started. It wasn’t hard.

The tunnel came up, and I navigated under it with ease, outpacing my opponents and pulling ahead. But as we exited the tunnel, rain started to fall, pelting the track and making it slippery and treacherous. There didn’t need to be any debris on it; the rain was enough to cause mayhem.

I had no choice but to drop a gear and slow down, and that’s when Dimi saw his chance. He pushed forward, trying to pass me on the wet track.

“Back off,” I shouted into my comms, knowing that if he kept pushing, he would not only ruin my race, but his own as well.

In slow motion, I could see what he was doing and the line he was taking. Clocking my own speed, I worked out his final stretch in my head. “Dimi, slow down! You’ll never make it!”

“Fuck you and your family,” he said. “I need that win!”

“What?”

Daisy’s voice came over the communicators, saying, “He’s out for blood, Rusty.”

Bail added, “He got an eviction notice this week. They’re going to be kicked out on Friday, too.”

This helped me understand Dimi’s aggressive tactics. I shouted out my window, “Slow the fuck down!” But he didn’t listen.

“You can’t back off,” Daisy said. “Rusty, we all need this win more than he does.”

“I know,” I replied, and I pushed the gas down once more, shifting up another gear.

As we approached the final turn on our first lap, Dimi pushed forward even harder. Needing to keep up, I found myself unable to slow down as the bend loomed closer and closer.

“I can’t,” I said. In the blink of an eye, my mind whirled, seeing my own demise from the car slamming straight into the wall. I pumped the brakes, trying to get my speed under control, but it was no use. The wall was rushing towards me, and as I tried to shift down a few gears, the engine didn’t whine, it screamed in protest.

My left side glanced off the wall and flipped me up into the air. The next thing I knew, I was careening towards Dimi’s car at full speed.

Dimi put his hands up in a vain attempt to save himself, and I saw smoke rolling off his tires as he braked.

But there was nothing either of us could do to avoid the collision. The front of my car smashed into his, and we were sent spinning in a circle of death and destruction.

My car flipped and skidded along the gravel at breakneck speed. Aug-World vanished and the shit streets around me came back into view. Just when I thought it would never stop, the car struck the wall with a sickening thud, and I was flying through the windshield.

Not only my life passed before me then . . .

My mom and Tsomak. My funeral?

What?

“Mom?” I was standing next to her.

“Rusty, you shouldn’t have; you just shouldn’t have. We didn’t need this, but we need you.”

Flying. I was flying.

I wanted to fly so badly.

This was all I ever wanted.

The view of my mom and the sounds of her sobbing faded, and reality hit me once more. I wasn’t going to be flying for much longer.

I hit the tarmac with a sickening crack. My helmet bounced, and the pain in my neck spread; then my body bounced, and I was no longer flying, but sliding on the tarmac. My leathers could only protect me from so much, and I felt them rip, then searing hot pain ripped through me as first my skin and then my muscle tore with it.

My helmet bounced off the curb, the plastic front shattering. When I finally flipped over, the pavement came at my face with nothing to stop it from slamming down; my arm twisted underneath me with a snap.

As I lay there, dazed and in pure agony, all I could think was that I should have listened to my gut and stayed away from that damned cake. Bile rose in my throat, and even with the agony I was in, I managed to turn just enough to vomit over the pavement before I passed out.