DRIVE!
First Lap
The Wayfarer King
Jed spluttered awake. His sight sharpened through the noisy glare on a pink scarf sprawled across his windscreen that read - RACE FOR YOUR LIFE! - before the gale scooped it off and away. He breathed shallow through red teeth and thin blue lips, and with every heartbeat pain shot into his forehead. Mr. Kimberly slouched unconscious with his chin tucked into his chest - his toupée hinged and swinging - then the foul odor of excrement gagged Jed’s nose. Mike had shit himself.
Every new discovery made things worse. One by one vehicles slowly began to pull away, then Jed’s eyes widened. He pressed his hand cold against the glass. His entire windscreen projected a pixelated high-tech satnav display. In the top left corner, a small text token spun, that read “DRIVE!” like some kind of videogame loading screen.
‘The fuck is this?’ he said, then winced. A deep ringing throb in his skull muffled out the background din. He noticed something written down the left-hand side of his front window, then, a terrible shiver ran up his spine to clutch his throat. His heart drummed with a primal fear.
[Mission: DRIVE!ntrance Qualifiers (Course 7); time remaining: 9:17]
[Rule: Reach the safe zone]
[Rule: Place 5th or better to qualify]
[Rule: do not leave your vehicle]
[Distance to starting grid: 807 meters]
[Style Metre: Sleepy!]
[Style Leader: #5 Awake!]
Painful images and memories confused and zapped his brain, before he grabbed his head and willed them all away. He was still disoriented, but knew instinctively that to ruminate was a bad idea.
His eyes narrowed on the countdown timer. [8:59] ‘Entrance..qualifiers..?’ Then a moving blip on the map drew his attention. The map on his windscreen monitored other vehicles near and far; if it moved, it pinged. A guidance route appeared to lead from his location to the “mission” destination, the “safe zone”, which was close to the middle of town - a busy area - and away from his driving test route. He drew his head closer and squinted to see other cars through the unexplainable display. The names of other vehicles floated below their tires, where they opened into data tags wherever his eyes lingered. The tags revealed information of which he could barely make out, and couldn’t make sense of anyway.
[Mini Clubman] [stock] (C)
#5 / Title: --
Clan: --
HP: 120 / NM: 160
Driver: Pendle / Level: --
Passenger 1: Pendle
Passenger 2: Pendle
(36m)
[Honda Civic] [stock] (C+)
#7 / Title: --
Clan: --
HP: 158 / NM: 187
Driver: Williams / Level: --
(3m)
[Ford Transit] [stock] (F+)
#14 / Title --
Clan: --
HP: 85 / NM: 101
Driver: Cook / Level: --
(7m)
He tilted his head and spluttered, ‘No way!’
The words “DRIVE LIVE! connecting…” flashed at the top centre of his windscreen.
‘Whose car is this?!’ almost on key, more strange data appeared in the top right of his window…
[Title: DRIVEKING]
[Driver: Jed Sone]
[Race tag: #31]
[Age: 23]
[Clan: pending closure…]
[level: 87]
‘That’s...me?’ he said, then his eyes flitted back to the timer, which was now [8:01] and seemed to be gradually changing colour from green to yellow…
At the bottom of the window to the left, read the words,
[HUD: reduced pending trial completion]
[Mode: limited]
‘Mr. Kimberly’, he strained, nudging the man’s arm. Mike spluttered awake and speckled blood across his scorecard. Out of the two he appeared the worse for wear, when the distance in his eyes seemed to sharpen and turn to meet Jed’s, then he said
‘your nose’
Jed furrowed his brows. ‘..you what?’
‘..the mirror’
He patted his face and noticed blood on his fingers, then turned to his rearview mirror. His nostrils ran red, and his eyes were bloodshot. Mike’s eyes seemed to fade and sink in and out of consciousness. It was the glassy vinnere of death. Jed shuddered, then checked the timer again [7:19] before speaking:
‘You might need a doctor Mr. Kimberly, so don’t go back to sleep. You hear me?’
Then he paused with alarm. Visible even through the torrential downpour, an eerie, unnatural darkness encroached in silence upon everything - from the muddy slopes below to the thunderous heights above - and at no leisurely pace. It was a sight to behold, and nothing the likes he’d ever seen before. With each vehicle shrouded by it he heard another alarm, another horn snuff out, and what almost sounded like glass shattering. His hand slowly went for the key, when his radio switched itself on.
[Only seven minutes to go!]
[Driver thirty-one, fourteen, seven, and five, might just make it, if they can get their arses in gear NOW!]
He twisted the key with a nervous energy - again and again - but as much as he tried, his engine didn’t start. His eyes darted back and forth from the brewing murky hurricane to his dash - the timer ticked away the seconds while the storm drew closer - with each vehicle engulfed, with every meter advanced, he fell more and more into a panic.
‘No, no, no! Not now!’
He reached for his door handle in abandonment, then froze. His eyes locked onto the first rule: don’t leave your vehicle. The mysterious gale shifted and seethed with menacing shapes, and almost like a dark hand it seemed to reach out and clutch a stationary Honda Civic seven meters ahead making him gasp with fright. The Honda pressurized under invisible forces - the crunch and pop of metal and plastics and glass sang a dreadful song of what would happen if his engine failed to spool - while debris scattered across his car. Then he yelped out loud and ducked at a rogue ballistic wing-mirror that spiralled towards him. The projectile twanged off his windscreen and cracked it. The Honda Civic’s data tag jittered, then it blinked off, leaving no evidence behind but a single wing-mirror on his bonnet still rotating and charred.
[Six minutes remaining!] chimed his radio.
‘This isn’t real!’ He bounced in his seat and shuck his steering wheel yelling incoherently, the anomaly almost upon the front of his hood, when he flew into a rage, and hammer-fisted the top of his dash and screamed,
‘PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST FUCKING STAAAAART!!!’
His engine groaned to life with an undead misery, while ahead the smog formed into the sinister shape of claws that scraped down his bonnet stripping paint and pulverising a headlight, when he rammed his gear stick into reverse and smashed his foot into the accelerator; his car dipped and redlined screechy into a backwards slide. His heart raced with adrenalin faster than the RPM of his engine, yet somehow and in the nik of time he’d managed to narrowly put distance between him and whatever it was.
[Oh! Hold the door, folks!]
His radio crackled with excitement, a voice more amused than concerned - like a crazed, zealous radio host commentating on a bloodbath - while a giant smokey maw collided into the ground where he was moments ago, then twisted into scornful eyes as black as ravens that glowered misty through the turbulence. It filled his veins with ice.
‘This definitely isn’t real!’
[Oof! It looks like driver thirty-one narrowly avoided disqualification!]
A sinister clap-track played fuzzy over undertones of anguished screaming, while Jed trembled breathless on the edge of paralysis - like a deer gripped by the glare of headlights - unable to avert his eyes. He pulled himself free and stared at Mike. Something locked away within Jed screamed in silence. He clutched at an old pain in his chest, then gritted his teeth. That same something in him snapped and clambered from its hole to meet him there in the pit of his gut. He threw the car into a reverse spin and in doing so blew up his [style metre]; he banged it into first gear and like a lunatic with his foot into the floor, he was off!
[Style Metre: Sleepy!] ~
[Awake!] ~
[Fun!] ~
[Wh...] ~
[Whoa! Hold the anchovies ladies and gentlemen! Pizzaboy’s bringing the pepperonis hot and spicy! I’d save that pep for the main course though; he’s gonna need it!]
The Style Leader changed from
[Style Leader: #5 Awake!]
to
[Style Leader: #31 Whoa!]
Jed’s eyes were all over his rear mirror, but the face in the shroud was nowhere to be seen. Then he knitted his eyebrows. ‘Oi, wait a minute. Pizza boy?’ His face turned red. He scanned the lofty heights and high rise windows for onlookers, but nobody was there. The rain was too severe to see anything, and for anyone else to see him for that matter. He fell more and more into confusion and anger by the second.
‘Are you talking about me?!’
[5 minutes left, drivers! Light those fires and kick those tires and don't forget to strap yourselves in ‘cos it's gonna be a rough one out there!]
‘Oh just wait ‘til I see you!’
The voice snickered [Don't worry, Pizzaboy, with a car as slow as yours…] then the voice guttered deep and demonic.
[...you'll be seeing me real soon.]
Jed's heart skipped a beat, before the voice went back to normal.
[four minutes thirty seconds remaining!]
Central at the top of his dash were the words DRIVE LIVE! fixed to a pixelated emoticon that watched him. His eyes caught it for an instant, when it opened into more text that read “listeners general mood”.
Beside the emoticon was a connection counter steadily increasing in numbers, and underneath that another counter indicating which driver had the most ‘eyes’ on them.
DRIVE LIVE! 😓
Connections: 14,300
👁️ #5 (38%)
His eyes were wild and scathing - fully in the throws of an amygdala hijack - the words jumped from his mouth without a thought behind them ‘No, you cheesy bastard! You’ll be seeing me!’
[Oh, why not. We haven’t had a live chat with a driver in over fifteen years! Introduce yourself, Pizzaboy. You’re on the air!] Then the radio played back the first part of Jed’s conversation.
DRIVE LIVE! 😲
Connections: 79,489
👁️ #31 (48%)
‘Who the fuck is this?!’
[I’m your worst nightmare, kid! Just kidding. Actually that’s kinda lowballing myself]
‘Then I must be dreaming 'cause you just said my car can't compete!’
[Then keep on dreaming, Dicky! I can count the horses under your hood with the fingers on one hand. Though technically I have infinite fingers]
‘Good! Means there's more for me to snap when I see you’
[If you saw me you wouldn't know where to look]
‘Well I'll be looking at your boys in the mirror soon, maybe I’ll catch you there’
[Aaand that's a challenge, boys! It seems driver thirty-one thinks he’s gonna qualify in his deadbeat dad’s slow ass hunk of junk run-around from the early nineties. Sheesh! And you bozos say my jokes are bad…]
The DRIVE LIVE! connection counter rapidly swelled with numbers, and the emoticons flitted with activity.
DRIVE LIVE! 😅😂😵
Connections: 229,001
👁️ #31 (72%)
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
[...but it seems folk worldwide are tuning into channel seven now, and more for the horseplay than the horses, as an oddball with more hot air than sense gears up for a beatdown of legendary proportions!]
‘What did you just say about my dad?!’
[Oh, did I say deadbeat? My bad. I meant deadmeat. But don’t worry, he’s leashed on all fours right here beside me! Wanna hear him bark?]
The inhuman voice of something crazed and suffering barked at the whip through his speakers, then Jed flew into a rage and caved-in the car radio with his fist.
‘Live, right?! Then listen up! When I qualify, shitbox here’s gonna apologise, then he’s gonna shut it for the next week! Fifteen years of silence?! Then I’ll speak for everyone; FUCKIN’ SWIVEL!’
[Ha! Who do you think you are, bub?]
‘Who am I?!’ His eyes ricocheted about the cabin in search of a comeback, when he pinned one hot against the windscreen…
DRIVE LIVE! 🤣😂👌
Connections: 710,129
👁️ #31 (81%)
[Title: DRIVEKING]
[Driver: Jed Sone]
[Race tag: #31]
[Age: 23]
[Clan: pending closure…]
[level: 87]
...then he jerked forward and yelled,
‘I’m the DRIVE KING, you little bitch!’
A cold shudder ran up his spine. The radio host’s voice broke apart into endless echoes and wails while the storm came alive with crackling thunder about his windows. His windscreen overlay jittered on the fritz, then it tuned back in crystal clear. The voice guttered low and sinister…
[You shouldn’t have told me that]
DRIVE !ƎVI⅃ 😅🤭😲
Connections: 999,051
👁️ #31 (84%)
...before it changed back to its radio voice.
[Challenge accepted, folks! If Pizzaboy qualifies, then for the first time in over a hundred and thirty years DRIVE! Will be officially offline! All upcoming events will be postponed until a later date and the airwaves will be returned to your regular unscheduled broadcasting; we’re all in!]
[...but if he doesn’t]
DRIVE LIVE! 😲🤩🤞
Connections: 1,374,837
👁️ #31 (91%)
[The fate of your world is sealed]
ƎɅIꓤᗡ ƎVI⅃! 😨😱🤯
Connections: 2,178, 371
👁️ #31 (92%)
[and just wait ‘till you see the competition! Thanks for calling in! Boy that was certainly something]
His frown deepened in intensity, scouring and furious, then he noticed a pile of vehicles down the road at the junction. He flitted from his map to the other vehicles - double, triple, and quadruple checking, to make sure it was the right spot - before his foot eased off. The other drivers hustled and bustled dry under the shelter of an abandoned gas station. A heated row had already simmered down leaving some bloodied and scuffed, when Jed crossed into the circle on his map without getting noticed, before his map blinked green followed by the message,
[SAFE!]
Jed gasped - a bitter respite - while he circled the pack to calm down and regain his composure, not quite brave enough to stop his car yet. Then he blinked towards the live feed.
DRIVE LIVE! 😭🤬😡
Connections: 3,289,185
👁️ #31 (95%)
He eased on the brake, still rattled with adrenaline, then his eyes bulged. ‘Three million?!’ before he noticed the general mood ‘...oh shut up. As if he can do anything’ His car stopped, then he looked down at his hands. They were trembling.
He freed them, rubbing the blood back into his fingers, keeping a wary eye on his surroundings; the shroud was distant but not far enough, and yet nobody there paid it any attention, which only deepened his concern.
‘Ey, yo!’ he yelled brash through his window, still worked up, and sounded his horn to get some attention. Several youths, high-peaked and baggy, swaggered over in their own time to check his wheels, then scrummed around his window.
'What's happenin da boys?'
One of them shook his head. 'Mad shit, bro. Everyone's spooked'
'you all hearin that shithead on the box?'
'Hearin him, bro? He's in our heads! knows everything. Radio’s got everyone on blast. Nearly riled this pack into a frenzy before my man here flashed some dusters.’ His man beside him smirked and pulled them from his hoodie. Each knuckle was a pierrot masked silver skull with its own emotion; misery, laughter, surprise, and rage. ‘I call it The Cracker’
Jed puffed a smile up one side of his cheek and said 'nice' Then something twinkled in one of their eyes 'wait, are you Pizzabo...driver thirty one?'
Jed paused, then gave a cautionary nod towards the one asking, before their faces became animated 'alright bro, making some noise already, nice.’
Jed shook his head. ‘Listen, that geezer’s creepin somewhere. He’s watching us. Is everyone on it?’
‘Yeah we’re on it’ Then he grinned again ‘...but I guess we ain’t got nothing to worry about with the Drive King here!’
Jed sighed through his nose and shook his head while they chuckled, then he said ‘laughing stock’
One of them peered in. ‘hey, your old man alright?’
‘Hope so, he’s my examiner. I’m on my driving test’ There was more than one tilted head.
‘Don’t hang about lads’ then he gestured with his head towards the road that sloped up the hill. ‘There’s something in that brew…’
They followed the intensity of his gaze…
‘...and it’s coming for us’
...before a musical car horn honked, dispersing the hoodies who swiveled astride like curtains, revealing a gold coloured Volkswagen Golf filled with sneering sunglasses. The Golf’s window wound down, and through the smoke, the driver said 'You gone walked a bad road, white boy. The devil took a shine to you!'
Jed shrugged as he lit a cigarette. He took a drag, then said, 'all roads lead to hell. The devil can spit shine my arse'
Then the driver's grillish grin sank sour. 'we at the end of that road, brotha. Your arse gonna need more than spit for what he got in store for it'. He revved his engine, then said 'for all of us', before he drove to the inner edge of the circle where his music dropped the base and thudded loud enough to wobble his Hard Serpent bobblehead.
'take it easy' he said to the hoodies and handed out fist bumps. Those gathered seemed to heighten in spirit as the timer ticked away, while Jed’s mood steadily worsened. He seemed lost to the crowd, distant - where there was laughter and energy, he alone seemed to slip further away, further into unease. He’d witnessed a gruesome and horrific scene mere minutes earlier, and he’d spotted something even worse in the shroud, a threat the others couldn’t even imagine. At least not yet. ‘Nearly time’, he muttered, his eyes intensifying on the countdown, then he noticed something. There was a tuned Audi S4, and a BMW M3 competition growling away in the corner.
[Audi S4] [stage 2] (A)
#5 / Title: --
Clan: --
HP: 465 / NM: 428
Driver: Chang / level: --
(14m)
[BMW M3 Competition] [stock] (A+)
#6 / Title: --
Clan: --
HP: 503 / NM: 479
Driver: Edwards / level: --
(14m)
They were parked side by side and faced him head on, drivers hidden behind dark-tinted windows ajar and close enough to hold a quiet conversation.
‘First and second’ he muttered, then juttered his chin. ‘Wonder what mine would read’, when his driver’s side window flashed and drew his attention.
[BMW 318iS E30][tuned] (C+)
#31 / Title: DRIVEKING
Clan: pending closure...
HP: 134 / NM: 172
Driver: Jed Sone / Level 87
Passenger: Kimberly
Surprise slapped Jed across the face. ‘You’re voice activated?!’ He flitted through it with wobbly eyebrows, ‘what the hell are you…’ he said, then tutted.
‘Thought I had more horses than that...’
Across the way, far outside the shelter obscured by the rain, was a Ford Focus ST. It’s driver was a suit under an umbrella with a phone against his ear.
[Ford Focus ST] [stock] (B+)
#5 / Title: --
Clan: --
HP: 250 / NM: 270
Driver: Kent / Level: --
(24m)
‘...third’
Jed’s expression deepened with worry. He thought for a minute, his fingers tapping against the wheel, as a row between several other drivers waged on. But his gaze reached beyond them. He was eyeing their cars.
One driver in particular was clearly on the edge. He sat and rocked on the bonnet of a luxury 5 series BMW, where he gripped his head by the scruff of his hair.
[BMW 5 Series 540i Performance] [stock] (-A)
#1 / Title: --
Clan: --
HP: 335 / NM: 331
Driver: Patel / Level: --
(11m)
‘Third or fourth...’ Rosary beads hung from his rear view mirror, and he clung to a cross around his neck. Jed jutted his jaw to rub his chin, before he rolled up beside him, then coughed. The man looked up in fright, wild-eyed and twitchy. Jed met his eyes with a relaxed calm while lighting another cigarette, then passed it to him through the window.
‘How’s it goin?’
The man paused for a moment to study him, the threat in his eyes dissolving into a nervous apprehension, then the wall gave way. He took the smoke, then shook his head.
‘We’re fucked, mate’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah. These clowns don’t have a clue. They think it’s a bloody race! I know what’s really going on’
‘Me too.’
‘I’ll tell you the tr--’ The man’s eyes widened. ‘y-you do?’
‘Aye’, he said, taking a long, slow drag from his cigarette, before blowing it all out the window. ‘we’re already dead’
Fear overcame the man while thunder clapped.
Jed continued, ‘this is purgatory. That’s not a storm on the horizon, it’s an undead army, and they’re coming for our souls. Don’t you read the bible? It’s all there in Barry’s three-zero-five, chapter two’ The man’s horror turned into confusion.
‘Barry’s th-three-zero-five?’
‘Yeah. If you don’t come first they’re gonna sit you in a bathtub of bleach and flay you alive with violin strings’
The man swayed faint into a panic, off his hood, then fell over himself into his car. Jed took another drag before flicking it out the window, shook his head with a chuckle and said ‘good luck, mate’, then the voice broke again on the radio…
[Holy SMOKES ladies and gentlemen! News just in! Driver number three has hauled ASS from waaay across town, somehow defying all the odds out here to make it in time before halo seven’s trial gets underway...]
Jed gazed upon the foggy slopes of yonder. About him the rowdy rumpus simmered into a curious expectation of onlookers and suspenseful, quiet banter, as the faint whine of an engine at speed grew louder and closer, until murky fog lights could be seen flickering on the horizon, on the approach through the veil.
‘That kid’s flying man’
[...a very wise decision indeed, folks; his designated trial run was halo number five! Boy let me tell you, nothing over there but power houses and big boys bringing big toys from grizzly American imports to German and Japanese juggernauts. Unbelievable! Has he figured out that there’s more than one race, or is he up to something? There’s only one way to find out!]
[One! minute! Remaining!]
Jed’s heart fluttered at the timer warning. It was close now. There was another vehicle on the road too, presumably driver fourteen, making its way in its own time. Driver three blew past driver fourteen like a rushing river without skipping a beat, followed by the echo of a distant horn blast.
‘Shit, he’s coming in hot’
The crowd shuffled and started to move behind and into vehicles for safety, reversing out the way to make space, before it emerged round the corner thick from the rain into view, into the safe zone, and into a manic spin! It careered under the shelter’s roof where its tires found something dry to screech on in a sideways slide hot and wispy into a disabled bay. It radiated an aura, as if fresh from hell, battlescarred and bruising for a fight as it revved its engines. It was a silver Suzuki Swift Sport.
[Suzuki Swift Sport] [stage 1] (B)
#3 / Title --
Clan: --
HP: 189 / NM: 244
Driver: Smith / Level: --
(9m)
Jed sunk even further into his chair with a troubled look about him. ‘Fourth or Fifth. ..shit’
The [Style Leader] updated from,
[Style Leader: #31 Whoa!]
to
[Style Leader: #3 Unbelievable!]
[Unbelievable! Driver three has ARRIVED! WOW! What a phenomenal entrance! He’s gone through hell to get here, folks, and that ain’t no joke!]
DRIVE LIVE! 😩😰🤔
Connections: 7,119,045
👁️ #3 (64%)
An amused crowd quickly gathered.
‘Man that’s a whip!’
‘What’s goin on, mad lad?’
[Aaand it looks like sunday morning driver fourteen and her clique have finally decided to join us, but it’s gonna be bad news bears for those girls if they don’t ditch the heels and kick those wheels]
While some gathered around the Swift, Jed’s eyes were firmly on the familiar claw marks down its backside. The almost ignorable, seemingly missable scrapes and dents peppered from bonnet to boot. While they laughed and bantered, Jed sighed through his nose in contemplation, wondering where it’s been, and what possessed the driver to risk all that to change racing brackets. It unnerved him. He shuddered. Then, mobile phone screens brightened, as a shadow cast everything into darkness.
Everyone finally stood and stared in silence. The storm had crept up on them. All eyes were on the teary smiles lit inside the last car at the cusp of the safe zone, number fourteen, when it was caught by the shroud. It rattled and popped, and flung glass and plastics everywhere, even making Jed flinch, safe behind his window. All that could be heard was its horn on full blast, then moments later, it rolled into the safe zone at walking speed. Its horn fizzled out, entirely stripped of paint, and flooding red and gory from the cracks of its doors with what remained of its driver and passengers. The shroud swirled tumultuously into ashen vapour, while everyone swayed frozen to the spot, lost in time. The light of day poured into their eyes, then like a bad dream, the shroud was gone.
Jed winced away in disgust and retched, before his map straightened him up again.
[Times up!]
[Entry license trial begins in 10…]
The crowd screamed into a frenzied uproar, scrambling in terror for their vehicles like crabs in a bucket.
[9...]
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought!’ yelled Jed, bashing his horn at their backsides. The crowd dispersed, and all that was left was a lone boy who spun with a limp towards every car door that slammed shut behind him, unsure what to do with himself. Jed shook his head.
[8...]
‘Get in your car, dickhead’
The boy jumped frightful, then turned to meet him.
‘Can’t’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s fucked. Left it couple e’ mile down the road’
Jed’s eyebrows animated ‘you ran miles in this weather just to run a car race on foot?’ The boy nodded, covered in slutch and soaked through, then Jed suffered a grin.
‘Then you’re fucked too’
[7...]
The boy’s apprehension turned pleaful with fear, while Jed sighed.
‘How much do you weigh?’
The boy shook his head.
‘Doesn’t matter. You’re a wet paper bag’ His rear window wound down, then Jed said ‘Get in the back’
The boy gasped with relief, then climbed through the window.
[6...]
‘Leave your seatbelt off ...and don’t touch my shopping’
‘Why no seatbelt?’
‘You’ll see. Do you watch any sports…’ His passenger status updated, then Jed scoffed.
[BMW 318iS E30][tuned] (C+)
#31 / Title: DRIVEKING
Clan: pending closure...
HP: 152 / NM: 198
Driver: Sone / Level 87
Passenger: Kimberly
*Passenger: Biscuit
‘Biscuit?’
‘How’d you know my name?!’
[Final 5!]
‘Shut up and answer’
Biscuit shook his head.
‘Do you watch rallycross?’ Biscuit shook his head again.
[4...]
His expression worsened, and there was a pause, before he spoke again...
‘...do you play video games?’
‘Yeah, I love games’
‘Then get on this. We’re squadding up. This is a coop game, and you’re player two’
The M3 competition and the Audi S4 prawled passed his window, unseen eyes that watched him through tinted glass - perhaps curiously - when he glared right back, hit the clutch and stuck it into first gear, and kept the revs high under the din of engines much larger and more more powerful than his. For a moment there was a hesitance about him, before he joined the huddle, crammed and packed towards the start line, as cars bumped and scraped into each other fighting over position to a high octane orchestra of gasoline and horns.
It was the most beautiful sound in the world; a dark temptation that belied his past and shadowed his present now trembled his hands; his future balanced on a needle-thread, and although his heart drummed to the horns of war, it panged with every second counted down to a deepening sadness. Something he’d only just found was about to slip through his fingers once again, and it seemed there was nothing he could do to stop it. Then his eyes chased the changes around his windscreen. His map guidance had been updated.
DRIVE LIVE! 🙏😩🤢
Connections: 8,733,106
👁️ #31 (61%)
[Mission: DRIVE!ntrance Qualifiers (Halo 7); time remaining: 0:00]
[Rule: place 5th or better to qualify!]
[Rule: do not leave your vehicle]
[Distance to finish line: 4.7 miles]
[Style Meter: Whoa!]
[Style Leader: #3 Unbelievable!]
He took an instant to skim over them while Mr Kimberly stirred and groaned into consciousness. ‘What...what’s going on?’ he asked, oblivious and groggy, but Jed’s eyes were elsewhere and closed, and nothing could reach him now. Somewhere within, he’d let go of his resolve, then his eyes welled, and his face lifted with relief into a sad smile.
[3…]
The words fell mournful from his lips, ‘straight and narrow… Straight... and narrow...’
[2…]
‘Straight…’
The rage within Mike’s voice thudded Jed’s ears dim in the background, blended in with the whine of turbos, the thirst of exhausts, and the roar of engines. Jed had found his calm.
‘...and narrow’
[1…]
‘Jed...’
‘Jed’
‘I’m sorry, Elly...’
‘JED!!!’
[DRIVE!]