A Yamaha GTS 1000 roared next to a Chevrolet Camaro 2014. The African American driver of the Camaro laughed at the motorcycle next to him.
"Ha! Nice ride bitch!" He cackled sarcastically. "I'll wipe the streets clean with you and your bike!"
The Camaro was bright yellow with burgundy red lines curving all around the car. Neon yellow light shone beneath the car.
The Yamaha was a sleek black bike with dark green lines outlining the body. The rider had a black leather jacket, black long sleeved shirt, black jeans, black sneakers, and a black and white helmet. Black leather gloves clutched the handles of the bike loosely. The rider turned his head to the Camaro driver.
The vehicles were parked in an empty lot covered by the buildings of Gotham. A large crowd surrounded them, watching the tricked out bike and car pull up to their starting line.
"Sexy huh?" The rider chuckled, turning back to look at the woman walking in front of them. "I'm going to enjoy stealing your ride."
"You wish," the Camaro driver said, also turning toward the woman.
The woman, a Caucasian blonde, was wearing a red and white checkered shirt that went just beneath her breasts, acting as some sort of bra. She wore ripped jean booty shorts and wore red lipstick. Her brown eyes shone with excitement as she raised two black and white checkered flags in the air, one in each hand.
She paused five feet away from the drivers, standing directly in front of the space that separated the two vehicles.
"Two laps around this area of the city. The GPS systems programmed into your rides will show you your route!" She shouted, allowing the crowd watching to hear. "First one to win gets the loser's ride. Are you ready, Gotham?!" She yelled, immediately answered with hoots and yells. "Ride or die, remember?!" Once again, she was praised with more screams.
"On my mark!" She yelled. The bike and car immediately started to rev, the healthy roars of the car sounding, allowing the crowd to hear how tricked out their rides were.
"Get set!" The rider of the Yamaha leaned forward as the Camaro driver leaned back, hand on the shift stick.
"GO!" She yelled, bringing down the flags. The vehicles shot forward, speeding into the streets of Gotham, taillights blazing in the night before turning right and mixing in with the other cars on the street.
The Yamaha pulled ahead of the Camaro, grinning as he sped swiftly past the others cars on the street. He slipped through the tight spots smoothly, laughing as the Camaro's wide body couldn't slip through as well. The Yamaha sped up, speed reaching 250 mph.
Behind him, the Camaro driver growled. He glanced at the blue fire extinguisher looking tank next to him labeled N2O.
No. Not now, he thought. It's too tight here.
The Yamaha took a sharp left, cutting off most of the cars on the street. He crashed through a fence, quickly approaching a high ramp that was actually the roof of a tunnel. He sped up again, reaching 289. His eyes narrowed behind his helmet's visor as he approached the ramp.
Not too far behind, the Camaro had just turned, speeding towards the motorcycle ahead. He cackled as he shifted when the car got too loud, speeding up next to the bike. The vehicles were neck and neck until the motorcycle zoomed ahead.
Blue fire flew from his two mufflers, launching him ahead and his speed increasing to 326.
The bike flew ahead, launching off the ramp. As soon as he landed, he hit the brake, drifting to the left as his GPS told him to.
The Camaro landed onto the same street as the bike sped onto the next street, flames dying out soon after. The Camaro shifted again before hitting the brake and drifting. He stepped on the gas and sped ahead onto the same street as the Yamaha, narrowly missing the black Porsche just around the corner.
The Yamaha roared as the driver pulled onto the next street, approaching the tunnel in which he started. The crowd made way for him and watched as the bike floated past them, a black blur with red strings of light trailing close behind.
The Yamaha didn't stop as he pulled into the final lap. He disappeared around the corner just as the Camaro came blazing in. The Camaro turned the corner, frantically searching for the Yamaha. They finally landed on the bike that was far ahead and turning to the ramp entrance. The Camaro driver's breath hitched as he was losing drastically. He should've used the N2O when he had the chance!
He sped up, weaving and shifting between the cars on the street. He turned to the entrance of the ramp to find it empty. He sped up even faster and landed on the street, only to see the Yamaha escaping four cop cars.
The Camaro driver smirked. He had it coming to him, he thought as he weaved through the cop cars and pulled up next to the slowing Yamaha.
"You're not giving up are you?!" He screamed over the loud noise.
"Like hell I'm not!" The Yamaha driver answered back. The Camaro laughed but stopped as soon as the Yamaha pulled in front of him, cutting him off.
The Yamaha driver couldn't lose his chance. He kept driving in front of the Camaro every time it swerved but keeping a safe distance so the Camaro couldn't hit him from the back or sides.
The vehicles expertly swerved through the other cars on the road, dodging the police officers that sped their way.
The Yamaha took a sharp right turn and flew straight to the finish line. The Camaro driver knew he lost and that no cop saw where the bike went.
He slammed his fist down on the steering wheel as he couldn't bring the cops to the finish line. Being the last place loser, he was left with the job to drive the cops away which could take from a half hour to five hours. The Camaro driver took a sharp left and sped away from the tunnel.
Meanwhile, the Yamaha driver flashed to the finish line and only started to slow down after he crossed it. He took a hard turn to face the crowd, leaving dark tires marks on the pavement next to him. He revved up his bike, letting the healthy roar pump up the crowd.
The woman who started the race gave him a pink slip. She blushed as she read it. "I don't know your real name so."
The Yamaha rider smiled beneath his dark visor that shielded his face. "It's fine," he said in his deep voice. "Thank you, Ora."
People in the crowd rushed up to the biker screaming his name and asking if he could give them his autograph.
The rider smiled and took out a marker. He started to sign everyone's papers or books and as soon as he finished, the tricked out Camaro wheeled into the tunnel. The driver parked the car before getting out, an angry look plastered on his face.
He stomped towards the Yamaha rider and almost socked him in the face when the rider showed him his pink slip.
"Hand it over," the rider sang.
"Shut it, clown!" He snapped but handed him the keys anyway.
The rider laughed and pressed a finger to the helmet. "Alex, prep the trailer, we're bringing home another one."
A male's laugh came through the comm. link. "All right. On my way. East tunnel right?"
"Yep."
"Awesome. I'll be there in ten."
"Kay. See you then."
"Bye." They both hung up and the rider turned to see that everyone had left, even the Camaro driver.
The Yamaha driver rode his bike next to the Camaro before getting off and leaning against the car, twirling the Pink Slip in his hands.
PINK SLIP, it read. Date: July 3, 2014. Race: North East Tunnels. Host: Ora Santiago (cursive). Car Won: Chevrolet Camaro 2014. Winner: The Dark Rider.
