The Racer (A.K.A Ryan Cooper)

By Nathan Berry

(Just for the record there were no Pagani Zonda F's or Porsche GT2's or Bugatti Veyron or Dodge Challenger or Honda S2000 or Mclaren F1 in the 80's but then again I couldn't set the story in the year '07 or '08, so the reality in terms of the cars is messed up. Anyways enjoy 'coz it took me long….And please rate highly, probably going to be only one chapter released but if I have time will release more. Like I said, enjoy!!)

It was on the 13 July 1980. I was sure I was prepared, but when I got onto the drag strip I lost all confidence in myself. Then again with a 1,209 hp Pagani Zonda F I didn't really need confidence. What I didn't realize however is that I was I was up against a 1,300 hp Porsche GT2, so yeah all hope was lost….or so I thought. (That day I had brought a Bugatti Veyron and my Dodge Challenger for grip, my Honda S2000 for drift , my Pagani Zonda F for drag, And my Mclaren F1 for the speed challenge) at the autobahn event I wasn't troubled until the last race the ½ Mile drag. Normally this would be something to look forward to, this time however it wasn't, after seeing that Porsche that is....

All I could do was hope for something to happen to his car, or I could make something happen… So I did, I cut the hose to his secret weapon, Nitrous. All that would have to happen is that a match would have to drop by mistake and his car would be done, beyond repair. I also had money down, 100,000,000 to be precise, only then I didn't know what I was up against.

But my Zonda was lighter than the Porsche, so I would have an advantage there. It came the time to race, and I put the clutch in and floored the throttle, the V12 screaming like a trapped banshee in my ears. The noise was deafening, but it was a welcome sound. Here came the lights: first red, then orange, then green.

I was really fast off the line and went shooting past the Porsche and in 10 seconds was on the finish line. I had done it and couldn't believe it, but there was a problem that i hadn't noticed. My brake light was flashing red, and this could only mean one thing, that the loser in the Porsche had sabotaged my brakes. I only had a few seconds to think, before I was faced with a concrete wall in my face. That was it, my racing career done and dusted.

Unless there was something i could do....................................

To be continued