Disclaimer: Drift City/Skid Rush is property of NHN
It is the year 2015…
In the near future, the world economy had been crippled due to oil shortages. Attention became focused on an island hundreds of miles due west off the coast of Alaska.
It was there that a new natural resource was found: Mittron. This material quickly underwent research and development, thus the government deemed the Island be named—Mittron Island.
Mittron rendered the use of petroleum nearly obsolete by fueling vehicles to perform better, run longer, even decreases pollution. It costs very little to mine, making it a very valuable commodity. The world quickly watched as the potential for Mittron steadily increased. But it did not come without a price…
Soon after the mining of Mittron began, vehicles of unknown origin began to appear dubbed "HUV" (High-Tech Unmanned Vehicles) by the government. They began to disrupt operations and wrought havoc upon the pioneers on the island.
The OMD (Organization for Mittron Development), made calls all over the world, asking for skilled drivers to handle the threat of HUVs. The military was not to be brought in due to the volatile nature of Mittron.
Three mainlanders sought their way for fortune and fame…
Drift City: First Gear
Chapter 1: "With Key in Hand"
"Jack…Jack!"
"Mmph…"
"Wake up!"
Jack awoke with a snort, flailing his arms in random directions in the row he sat in. After wiping the drool from his mouth, he rubbed his eyes and looked back at his tubby friend who sat next to him while reading a Mittron Weekly newspaper.
"We there yet?"
"Just look out the window and see for yourself."
Jack slid up the window cover next to his seat and saw the roaring engine of the Boeing 747, looking further down towards the Pacific Ocean to see an island that produced another plane that passed by them.
"So that's Mittron Island?"
"That's what the ticket said, right?"
"Quit beatin' around the bush, Ricky."
"Yeah, it is. You missed the PA announcement a few minutes ago."
"Whatever;" Jack gargled with the Listerine in his carryon "is Cyrus awake?"
"He's meditating. It's unnerving when you look at him."
Next to Ricky, a Mexican adolescent sat with knees bent in his seat quietly thinking. Jack attempted to prod him with a magazine, but before he even get anywhere near him, Cyrus nabs the magazine and began reading it."
"Thanks, hermano."
"Man, don't scare me like that! Keep all your Gandhi stuff to yourself."
"It's Shinto."
"My bad."
"So, you decided on what car you're gettin'?"
"What?"
"They're letting us choose a starter car, remember?" said Ricky.
"Oh, right. Nah, I haven't decided; I was hoping they'd let us go check out the lot first."
On schedule, the pilot announced over the loudspeaker "Attention passengers, this is your captain speaking. We are about to touch down on Mittron Island; please fasten your seatbelts and place all carryon baggage in your overhead space."
The plane landed with a powerful thud followed by the whistling of the engine slowly dying into nothing. It was a slow five minutes before the plane aligned itself with the passenger bridge and made contact while a refueling crew swiftly went to refuel the mittron engine.
"Attention Passengers, this is your captain speaking. We have arrived at Gold Wing Memorial Airport, thank you for choosing Mittron Airlines."
The three of them got off the plane, carrying their single pieces of luggage with them. After a hassle-full time at the line, they got through customs and to the West OMD branch located at the airport.
Tossing his passport on the desk Jack opened it up for the poindexter clerk to have a look at.
"Okay; Jack Fielding; Apprentice Driver V1."
"Alright, thanks mate." Jack took his passport back and let Ricky present his passport.
"Richard Stelchek, Junior Mechanic V1."
"Thank you." Ricky took his passport and sat down next to Jack while Cyrus had his passport examined.
"Cyrus Erik Morales Sankai Elvira, V1. Student Driver V1"
"Just Morales, okay?"
"Wait, Erik Morales—as in the famous boxer?"
Jack rolled his eyes "That's his dad."
"Ooh! May I have your autograph?"
"Let's get out of here before a mob comes."
Getting out of the office, the three waited outside of the airport at the bus stop to wait for a ride to the Apartment Complexes to the north. Signs everywhere advertised the newbies, "Welcome to Moon Palace".
"Kind of a cheesy name for a place like this."
"Let's hope the apartments don't totally suck. My mom paid for our first month's rent and gas money."
Ricky looked off into the distance, the orange blob sinking into the mountains "It's almost sundown, let's dump our stuff and head for the Government building."
"Hang on a bloody second, I forget;" Jack asked "who was your mom again?"
"Sankai Reiyou, you remember—the supermodel?"
"I thought you were Mexican."
"My dad's Erik Morales, remember? My mom's Japanese." Cyrus laughed while hitting the nearby lamp post, "My dad drives an RX-8 with hydraulics."
Ricky asked him "How did those two ever get married?"
"Mom's got really odd taste in men. She really won im' over since she speaks español." He joked, "And the fact that she was an Olympic silver medalist at jujutsu n' fencing."
"Lucky you, your mum and daddy are rich; and Ricky's daddy's a Mittron scientist."
"Hermano, would you just…" before Cyrus could finish, the bus comes by and let out its brake pressure. They got on board and rode it all the way to the seventh apartment complex.
7th Apartment Complex
"Mom said we'd be living on the second floor n' separate rooms."
"Don't sod off now," Jack checked his bag "we've still gotta get permits to get our motors."
"Alright, I'll meet you all downstairs when you're ready." With a nod, Ricky closed the door behind him and left his friends to go unpack.
Jack plopped his suitcase on the floor before tossing himself onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling fan slowly turning and wafting dust in the created breeze. The blades of the fan slowly began to pick up speed before they began to spin like a coolant fan…
One year ago
"Now!"
A red Subaru Impreza WRX hugs the final corner of a gravel road, zooming past a Ford Escort RS Cosworth and became neck and neck with it. Shifting a gear up, it gains enough momentum to finally overtake the Escort and cross the finish line. Coming to a stop with a rocky stop, the driver and co-driver step out of the car and remove their helmets much to the cheers of a crowd. From their sweat lined helmets, came polished blond hair that was just as identical as their sky blue eyes and pale skin.
"Way to go, dad."
"Ata-boy!" said the driver, "Your timing's getting better."
An ESPN-3 camera crew clamored around them, shoving microphones in the driver's face. He raised his hands in resistance, being force fed questions from the correspondents.
"Mr. Fielding!" a reporter badgers him "You've won the California Invitational, what's next?"
"Isn't it obvious?" he said with a grin "The world!"
"Dad," said Jack "Could we chivvy along? I promised I'd meet Ricky over at the pub."
"Course' we can; hop in!"
Like the Dukes of Hazard before them, the father/son team hops into the Impreza and revs the engine to scare off the reporters. The beaches of Los Angeles were spread before them, with surfers and the golden sun basking its residents in a comforting glow. Pulling into a parking lot, the two find a space and enter the nearby bar "Black Pearl".
Inside, a uniformed Ricky sat at the bar waving at the Fieldings; two pints had already been prepared for them. With a hearty high-five, they sat down and laughed as they grabbed their beers.
"So Ricky," said the eighteen year old Jack "you've been accepted by the OMD?"
"You know it." Ricky swished his lager around, "Which brings up the question, why won't you join up?"
"I told you; I'm gonna go race internationally, I don't wanna join your little environmentally friendly lot." Jack finishes his pint, "Besides, you wouldn'tve even gotten your position if your dad wasn't a Mittron techy."
"Jack, I'm telling you—Mittron powered cars will change everything!" Ricky defended his position.
"That's what they said about Hybrid cars a couple of years back and guess what? We're still trying to perfect it."
"You don't get it, do you?" Richard snapped his fingers to emphasize his point "It runs longer, burns better, even makes cars go faster! Plus, its dirt cheap to get! That beats the hell out of those Hybrids any day!"
"I'll stick to burning petrol, thank you very much. Least' we know that we can always get more."
"Cock-up, son." Mr. Fielding patted him on the back, "Maybe sharking you a bird with a nice set of baps will make ya feel better!"
"Wha-what!?" Ricky was confused.
Jack leaned over and whispered in his ear, "My dad's old English. He means I should 'cheer myself up by getting a date.'"
"Oh, okay…I was going to say…"
After setting things straight, he looked to see that his dad was gone. The door was slightly ajar before the bell above it went off with a ring; figuring his dad must've gone outside for a smoke, he heads for the door and accidentally bumps into an OMD officer and made him spill his drink.
"Oh, sorry bout' that, mate."
"Sorry? You made me spill my damn drink!"
"I'll pay for it, hang on a sec…" as Jack reached into his suit pocket for his wallet, the Hispanic officer grabbed him by the collar and reared his hand back.
"I needed that drink, you stupid brit…!"
"Ain't no reason to fight in here, we're all friends, right?"
"Yeah, friends." The half drunk officer cocked back again and threw a punch, only getting stopped by another hand. Tossing him back into his seat was a junior officer, uniform nearly devoid of rank. His shoulder length ponytail and thick five o'clock shadow struck a chord with Jack as being a deranged drunk.
"He ain't done nothing, let im' go."
"You stay outta this, Cyrus! This jackass owes me a drink!"
Cyrus twisted his superior's arm in one direction and shoved him to the floor, flinging a plastic Corona bottle at his head, knocking him out cold.
"Sir, you hadda nuff'." He turns to Jack "Sorry bout' that, hermano. Name's Cyrus Morales."
"Jack Fielding; appreciate the save, mate."
"I heard a' you. You're Mike Fielding's co-driver; saw your race earlier."
"Thanks for noticing; by the way, did my dad go out the door?"
"Yeah, just now. Y'mind getting his autograph for me?"
"Sure, no trouble."
Swinging the door open, Jack saw his father talking with other jumpsuit-wearing members. Michael was very reluctant to talk to them, backing against the Impreza.
One of the crew members stepped forward and asked "I'm not going to ask again, where is the Azoth?"
"I'm not telling you anything!"
"Dad?"
Not wanting to take any more stalling, the other driver grabbed Michael and pressed a pistol against his ribcage. The hammer on the gun began to click back and he threatened him with a firm jerk.
"Last chance, tell us where the Azoth is and we won't kill you."
Michael saw Jack hiding behind a Camry, grinning mischievously. He let out a hearty chuckle before telling them—
"Go to hell."
A loud bang shattered the ennui in the air. Among the screaming and panicking, Jack was staring at his father's corpse slumping over with a bullet wound in his side. Frozen with fear, he couldn't help but cower in fear at the fact that they had just shot his dad. Ricky bursts through the door and saw the horrifying sight.
"What's going on?"
"Get down, Ricky!"
Before the assassin raised his automatic pistol, Jack yanked Ricky down to the ground and made the gunman miss his head by several inches. The group of strangers beat a hasty retreat, jumping into several black and red striped Nissan Skylines they bolted out into the darkness without a trace.
Jack and Ricky rushed over to Michael who was bleeding through his wound. On the ground next to his body was a small pocketbook, inside was a badge and an ID card.
"OMD?" Richard looked "You didn't tell me your dad was an OMD Driver!"
"He didn't tell me diddly." Jack rested his fathers head on his forearm, "Stay with me!"
"Oi…" Michael said weakly "Stay away from the Homunculi…"
"Homunculi? Who are they!? What the hell is the Azoth?"
Cyrus had come outside to see Richard and Jack tending to Michael, and began shouting for an ambulance.
Two days later…
On the headstone, two names were inscribed—
Here lies Rebecca and Michael Fielding; two lovers who chased after their dreams
Jack sat down against a tree, setting a clear cup down next to the headstone and popping open a Guinness, pouring it in before knocking the bottle against the rim of the glass.
"Bottoms up, dad." He smiled "Now you're up there with mom."
As he downed his half of the bottle, the loud crunching of the grass beneath sneakers let him know that Ricky had come by. He sat down next to him and placed a bouquet of Azaleas upon the grave.
"You going to be fine?"
"Ricky," Jack asked "what's Azoth?"
"Beats the hell outta me. Why'd you ask?"
"I heard my dad talking about some stuff called Azoth before he was killed." He put down his father's badge on the headstone, "He also said to stay away from the Homunculi."
"I think I might've heard of them; around the office, it's said they're supposed to be some rogue OMD Drivers who disbanded and made their own organization on Mittron Island."
"Did you know my old man?"
"I didn't even see his name in the ranks. I really didn't know he was even enlisted."
The sound of a Jeep Liberty's door slamming shut signaled the coming of another who came to pay respects. Coming to a stop, Cyrus set down a reef of flowers next to Jack's bouquet.
"You're Officer Morales, right?"
"Quit bein' so damn formal, hermano. Jus' call me Cyrus."
"What are you doing here?" asked Ricky.
"I'm payin' my respects to im', what's it look like?"
"What right do you have?"
"He's the father of hermano, I gotta at least give em' respect."
Jack stood up and cleared his throat, looking back one last time at his parent's gravestone. He fished out of his pocket the key to his father's Impreza and knelt down to dig out a small hole in the ground in which he buried it with him.
"I've made my decision."
"What're you gonna do, hermano?"
"I'm joining the OMD."
Richard showed signs of disagreement "You're serious, aren't you?"
"My dad knew something that got him killed, I'm going to find out what."
"Revenge won't bring him back."
"No," Cyrus sided with Jack, placing a hand on his shoulder "but it'll definitely be satisfying. I'll see if I can pull some strings for you, hermano."
Just as Cyrus walked off with him, Rick made stops them with a proposition.
"Wait," he said "my dad's a scientist working on Mittron Island. I'll see if he can give you a recommendation."
The three of them walked back to their cars, no longer as strangers, but as friends…
The Present
"Hello?" Ricky knocked on the door "You okay in there, Jack?"
Jack rolled out of bed and ran both his hands through his hair. Unlocking the door and yawning loudly, he met with Ricky and Cyrus again to head to the bus stop again.
"Are you out of it? You're looking awfully tired."
"Nah; its nothing, just jet lag."
"Hang tough, hermano." Cyrus warned, "This job's going to get tougher."
"I'm sure I'll get better after I get myself a motor."
They get on another bus that takes them three blocks down the street to the OMD Government complex. Along the way, a red Toyota Supra crossed the street next to them and created a great dust cloud behind him.
"What the bloody hell was that?"
"If I didn't know better," Richard said sarcastically "I'd say that was a Supra doing one ninety."
"You know what I meant."
"That's how the cars are around here, hermano. Don't forget that since you're the police, you can go as fast as you want here."
The minute they get off the bus, Jack ran towards the front door within the enclosed building like a kid in a candy store. He urged them to hurry up, wanting to get to driving as quickly as possible.
"C'mon!" Jack whined "Let's hurry and get our motors already!"
"Jack, are you familiar with the letter D-M-V?"
"Ricardo's right." Cyrus nodded, "We might be here for a while."
"Y'never know. You two are mainland OMD."
"Please," Ricky sighed "give me one reason why this place is better than America."
With the double doors sliding open, they received a pleasant greeting beginning with the air conditioner on top of the door wafting a cool breeze on their heads. In the doorway stood a cheongsam clad beauty, her jet black hair cascading past her shoulders. She was surrounded by a plethora of low ranking vehicles fresh off the assembly line, as well as many booths with very short lines.
"Welcome to Moon Palace!" said the beautiful girl "You three must the ones from the mainland."
"Okay," Cyrus "that good enough?"
"Wow…" Jack began drooling uncontrollably.
Ricky punched him in the arm, "Quit slobbering over the help."
"A…" Jack walked past the attractive manager and placed his hand along the hood of a snow white sport compact with an emblem—labeled Drifter—on the rear "a 1994 Nissan 240SX S13! These are fantastic for drifting!"
Cyrus was almost completely dumbstruck, "We're bein' greeted by a pretty girl, and he's drooling over the car."
"Sorry about that, love;" Jack nodded politely "my name is Jack Fielding. These are my friends Richard Stelchek, and Cyrus Morales."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Suyeon. I'm the manager of vehicle certifications."
Cyrus looked around "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say we're supposed to go to you when we want some cars."
"That's right; my job is to get rookies started by issuing them new cars."
"Out of curiosity," Ricky looked at the model names on the back of what appeared to be a Korean SsangYong Korando, having the crest 'Ironia'. "Why do these cars look similar builds to real cars but have different names?"
"OMD Motors as well as several other companies on the island paid manufacturers to use the make and model of select cars. Revenue from mining mittron is so high; it isn't difficult to buy licenses."
"No joke?" Jack nodded "I've already decided. How bout' you, Cyrus?"
"I dunno, I'm thinkin' about it."
Without any warning; a Toyota Spyder crashes through the front door of the OMD building, sending glass and metal every which direction. The three drivers had dived out of the way to safety, Cyrus shielding Suyeon from the shrapnel with his coat. Out of the Spyder came a pistol wielding robber who still wore his OMD Driver badge around his neck.
"A'wright!" the messy haired mulatto driver shouted "This is a robbery!"
Cyrus whispered to Suyeon, "Hold tight, querido."
Ricky spotted a letter opener among the debris, using his fingers to inch it closer to him and gripped it in his hand. Eyeing Cyrus from a few feet away, his Hispanic friend silently acknowledged him. With a plan in mind, Ricky slid the letter opener along the floor and let Cyrus pick it up off the ground, flipping it to grip the blade end to throw it like a makeshift throwing knife.
With a shrill shout, the robber dropped the gun after being hit in the hand with the bladed end. It gave one of the tellers enough time to hit the alarm and call out the security from the rest of the building.
"Damn!" the would-be robber hopped back into his Spyder and backed out of the building as fast as he could.
On the floor, Jack found the key to the S13 laying in front of his face. He noticed the thief attempting to make a getaway, his blood beginning to boil at the thought of him getting away.
"No you don't, you bastard!" he swapped up the key and jumped through the open window of the S13, shoving the key into the ignition.
"Let im' go, hermano!" Cyrus shouted over the roar of the S13's engine "He ain't worth it!"
"I'll chase the arsehole down and beat the crap outta him!" Jack revved the engine "Gang way!"
Going through the hole made in the front door, he drove off after the Spyder, making a right turn on his way out of the government complex.
"There he goes again."
"Is he always like that?" asked Suyeon.
"You should see im' on a bad day." Cyrus groaned, "Let's go after im' before he gets hurt."
On the road, Jack cruised along at a steady 130 mph. He admired the decent interior colored a nice snowy white, leather seating, and an integrated GPS built right into the dashboard. The gas pedal felt light beneath his foot, the steering wheel tightened to his liking, the new car smell filled his lungs, and the growling of the engine gave him a sense of power that his father's rally cars didn't.
"Let's see what this baby's got."
He floors the pedal, rocketing around a corner as he pulls the handbrake. Adjusting for the angle of entry, he lets off the brake and slams the gas pedal, shifting back up one gear to come out at an impressive 150 mph. The GPS read that he and the Spyder were heading down the De Roshell Shopping Center.
"Attention, driver!" the GPS hollered at him in a woman's voice "Pull over to the side of the road and leave the vehicle. I promise you will not be charged with grand theft auto."
"Oi," Jack tapped the GPS several times "these new GPS's don't know when to shut their faces."
A window appeared on the monitor, displaying the camera feed of a gorgeous fiery eyed lady wearing hoop earrings. She looked very irritated due to the fact that Jack had tapped the respond button on the display.
"I'm not an A.I., you idiot."
"Oh?" Jack cracked a smile "Got a name, love?"
"None of your business." She snapped at him, "Get out of the car and maybe I won't press charges."
"Whatever, when I'm done you can have it back."
Meanwhile, the driver of the Spyder looked in his rear view mirror to see the S13 coming up close. He began to panic, looking at all his gauges to see that he was going about 165.
"No way!" he shouted "How the hell can a rank one car keep up with me?"
He made a right turn, drifting into oncoming traffic, managing to come an inch away from a fire truck. Jack quickly follows, swaying one way first, and then slamming his rear end into the turn to sharpen the turn. He came out right next to the Spyder, neck and neck.
"H-how!?"
Jack grinned, "Amateur."
He slammed into the Spyder, shaking the driver inside. The mulatto driver attempting to slam him back, but came across empty air as Jack quickly decelerated to avoid it. Annoyed, he tapped a button on the steering wheel that made flames erupt from the muffler to propel him forwards even quicker.
"Great, NOS."
"You have one as well."
"What?"
The operator replied, "The button on your steering wheel releases the latent energy in your Mittron Booster. It regenerates with time, now hurry and catch him!"
"Well, aren't you helpful all of a sudden? Thanks, love."
With that, he turns off the radio and follows suit after him with his own booster. He made a left turn, rocketing past additional traffic to find him traveling past the local Car Center.
In the OMD government complex, the operator at the other end of Jack's radio slammed her delicate hand on her desk in anger of his blatant disregard for authority. She looks at the group of workers centered on her satellite tracking system, looking at how Jack maneuvered right between two cars waiting at a stoplight to inch closer to the Spyder. The two of them made a turn to the left, coming within several centimeters from one another before they came out of it.
"Whoa, look at that guy go!"
"You don't see that kind of drifting around here."
"This guy just won't give up!" the rogue driver got on his radio "Help me out!"
From off the sides of the road, four other cars (though lower in rank) joined the renegade in formation. They broke off and began to surround Jack's S13.
"Damn…" Off of Jack's GPS, set of blue dots bolting down the adjacent road. With precise timing, a SsangYong Korando and a Hyundai Tiburon III rammed into two opposing Mitsubishi Eclipses and sent them rearing into their two friends. Jack swerved past the wreckage and stuck his thumb out the window; Ricky then came on the onboard radio and replied to him.
"You didn't think we were going to let you be a glory hog, did you?"
"Alright, I'll buy you a drink later." Jack laughed, "A Hyundai? I never thought I'd see the day, Cyrus."
"It sucks less den' I thought it would."
"Yeah, yeah—I'll just take care of this schmuck and head back."
The driver of the Spyder shouted in fright, gunning it around a corner towards a bookstore. He veered past a compact car and hit his booster to make distance between him and Jack.
On his right, Jack spotted a truck built for transporting cars had no cars currently on it. Feeling daring, he thumbs the booster and zooms onto the ramp, making a jump that would inspire the Duke boys. He lands square in front of the Spyder, making him panic and jerk his wheel to the right, effectively making him crash into a detour sign attached to a pickup truck. The Spyder vaulted forwards, making the bottom of the car face straight up. Underneath him, Jack peeled out and through his windshield flipped the bird to the driver as he skidded to a stop while the Spyder went tumbling along the road to a halt on its side.
The driver came out of his car through the shattered windshield, crawling along the ground in a bloody mess of cuts and scrapes to collapse in front of a pair of sneakers. Jack knelt down and posed a question to him.
"Who the hell gave you a license?"
Booming sirens had caught up to them; several police cruisers caught up to them and slid to a stop. OMD officers applied handcuffs to his frayed hands, reading him his rights while shoving his head into the ground.
"Joseph Anderson!" said the attractive officer "You are under arrest for the act of treason against the OMD!"
Jack looked to his friends behind him and sighed, "Let's get out of here."
"Shouldn't we go return these cars first?" Ricky looked at the slightly dented cars they borrowed.
"C'mon, hermano. Maybe a good night's rest will help."
As Jack got back into his seat, the operator made another appearance on the monitor.
"Oh, ello'. Listen, I'm—"
"Thank you."
"Eh?"
"Thanks for catching him, you made our jobs a little easier."
"Wasn't a problem; it's what I'm supposed to do as an OMD driver, right?"
"After what we saw, we're willing to let you keep your cars."
Cyrus and Ricky peered over Jack's shoulder to look at their very good looking operator.
"Sorry if I came over as a bit rough, no hard feelings?"
"Erina."
"My name is Erina."
"Huh, that's a pretty name."
"I think I might enjoy working with you, Officer Fielding." She finally cracked a smile, "Erina out."
After Erina signed off, Ricky gave Jack a solid noogie to his scalp, "You dog!"
"Oi, knock it off."
"Officer Fielding." Cyrus teased him, "Don't that sound good?"
"Eh, Ricky."
"Yeah, what?"
"I gotta admit," Jack looked at the pileup of cars and the alarms going off down the block "mittron cars sure are somethin'."
If you're still reading, thanks for reading. Drop me a review.