The Grey Rush
Two hours ago he was on a plane from Bullworth, now he was in the seat of a highly modified sports car ripping down a main street in a city he had just arrived in. The only thing that kept him going in the right direction was the GPS on the dashboard in the car. Hunter O'Davis was racing for his first paycheck, something he sorely needed. The black sports car slipped through the night and sideswiped a opposing driver in a white coup, into a construction site. Nearly halfway to the finish line across the city of Los Santos. He had come here for this, the racing scene in this west coast city was one of the best in the world and a great place to get started for an aspiring street racer.
Two more racers ahead of him remained, their red brake lights learing out at Hunter as he chased them. He pumped the brakes around a tight left turn and hit the gas to bring him out of it. He had never driven one of these cars but he was a quick learner and was adapting. It was quick to get up to speed but once it did it had great turning and control. He flew past a movie theater with lines of people gawking at the illegal race as the cars blew past. The racer ahead of him suddenly slowed down dramatically, he had blown a tire. Hunter roared past and took aim on the leader who had just drove up a highway on ramp.
Dodging through cars, trucks and other vans on the highway Hunter noticed the police scanner going off. The cops had finally taken notice of their race and had scrambled a police chopper to find them. He concentrated on the leader first. He finally was closing on the red black convertible, the driver was blaring hip-hop and drinking a 40oz beer, not even noticing Hunter as he drew close. With a few quick moves Hunter overtook the leader and plunged into a tunnel, the finish line at the tunnel's end.
The now second place driver finally took notice and floored the gas passing Hunt and a semi which blared it's horn. The driver was using the truck to hold Hunt in second by positioning his car in front of Hunter and the truck on Hunt's left, the wall of the tunnel and the guardrail loomed on the right. Hunter smirked and drove his smaller, shorter car under the semi's trailer and out the other side, passing both vehicles and crossing the finish line.
The racers came to a stop a little down the road and met with the race's organizer, a man named Wiggy. They got paid, Hunter made $5,000 and the car for his win and told to scatter to throw off the police.
Hunter headed for a hotel, and to crash for his first night in Los Santos. He had come a long way in the last 6 months. He was finally alone and had some cash to just decompress and analyze his situation. His life had had some crazy turns. First his father, Malcom, came over from Ireland with his parents a long time ago and enlisted into the military. He killed overseas in while serving his second tour of duty. His mother, Katlyn turned out to be a military gold digger, a woman that married troops for their paycheck and housing and dumped them after they were discharged. She immediately fell into a bad crowd with crack dealers, and became addicted cocaine, beating her two children, Hunter and his sister Maddy. Maddy was killed in a car accident that unfortunately his mother survived a year ago, she was 16 years old, Hunter 26. His mother turned her greif into anger and blamed it on Hunt, who had nothing to do with the accident.
Finally Hunter had enough when he had to drag his mother to a hospital after she overdosed on heroin. She survived and Hunt left. Left his grandparents and all his Irish friends and family to make out a new life in Los Santos as a street racer. He had always been good at cars. Fixing them, customizing them and driving them. Now he was going to prove it.
