Chapter 2: Ready..Steady...
In a red and gold suit with helmet under arm and a confident grin on his face, stood Clutch Knight. Media called him the "Golden Kid" (Though now he was older they called him the "Golden King) in his first year alone, he'd passed every test with flying colors. He had even beat the king of the sport himself, Tom DeReign.
"Your Majesty." Cam said, dripping sarcasm with an over exaggerated bow.
Ryan's eyes were like steel, "What do you want Knight?"
Holding up his hands defensively our opponent said, "Easy McAllister, I'm only here to wish you the best of luck."
A snort of laughter escaped my lips, "Yeah, sure."
Clutch Knight walked away and called over his shoulder, "From the looks of things, you'll need it!"
I started towards the garage again, "Come on guys, he's just trying to get under our skin."
"Mission accomplished." Muttered Cameron.
"Remember Cam, murder is illegal." Said Ryan with a half amused smirk after seeing the dark looks Cam was sending in the direction that Clutch had just walked off in.
I chuckled as we reached our destination. Cam and Ryan went to their respective cars and started touching up a few things and checked their gear for the race. I lifted the door to my garage and for a moment stood and remembered all the trouble I'd gone through to make my Mazda MX3 the best in the field. Every spare hour I'd had, along with long nights accompanied by endless amounts of caffeine. All for this, the sport I loved. I walked over and ran my fingers lightly over the smooth surface of the hood. Beneath it lay my baby, the engine I had shed blood, sweat and tears over. I remembered what it sounded like the first time I'd started it. Like a sputtering, wheezing pile of nuts, bolts and old tubes. It had taken me months to get it anywhere near the equivalent of a working engine. Giving the hood a fond pat I meandered over to the glass case in the back of the room. In it, was my suit. Solid black with silver stripes down the sides. On the table with my tools was the matching black helmet.
"Well old friend," I whispered to the Mazda, "it's now or never, lets make this count and show 'em what we got."
