Chapter 2: Race Night
I round the corner of a warehouse and see a couple of rhinos standing in the road. I slow to a stop and open the window.
"You lost boy?" asked the one wearing jeans and t-shirt sporting the logo of some obscure band I never heard of.
"Just out for a drive." I reply, the code word for tonight to let them know I have been checked out already.
The other rhino, dressed in tan shorts and a tank top, looks at the first as he nods and waves me through. I notice his thumb move away from the button on the radio he is holding. Early warning in case the cops decide to visit. There are pairs like this scattered throughout the area keeping an eye on everyone who comes and goes.
I grab my phone and shoot a quick text to Toast saying simply "here" and pull down into one of the driveways. Immediately I can smell a difference in the air, the tangy smell of exhaust and oil and the occasional whiff of burnt rubber. The sound is more of a giveaway to what is happening, loud thump thump from over taxed subwoofers blasting out music and the brap brap of engines as they are revved to the redline.
I pull around a building marked "Easy Cheesy Mouse Snacks" and the scene unfolds, cars of all colors parked in rows with crowds walking and standing in between. Headlights and multi colored undercar lights the only illumination in the parking lot. Music fills the air from a dozen sound systems. I sigh as I hear at least 4 of them blasting that damn pop song from Gazelle that has been way too popular as of late. Some cars have the hoods propped up to show off their latest engine work, others closed tight, hiding the secrets of performance. Mine will stay closed, that is for sure.
I find an open spot to the edge and slowly back in. Noticing a few muzzles turn to look at me, but after sizing me up they turn back to what previously held their attention. I double check my gauges and make sure everything is in range and then flip the kill switch. The car shudders a bit as the engine is silenced. I sit taking in the view, and steeling my nerves before I open the door and step out into the crowd.
I am walking down the row of cars so I can size up the competition when a badger looks over to me.
"crap" I mutter under my breath, I recognize him immediately, and if I know him, he knows me.
I force myself to be calm, halting the involuntary twitching of my tail. Time to test the disguise.
"You're new here. names Martin" the badger says as he offers me his paw.
I ready my practiced expression and reply "Max."
Taking his paw in mine I give one firm shake before letting go and putting my paws in my pockets.
"You driving that blue Conga Shadow over there?" motioning to my car.
"Yeah, thats mine."
"Is it fast?"
I glance left and right.
"Faster then anything I've seen so far."
He chuckles.
"Well we'll see about that, if there is anyone you want to lose to, go find the ferret in the hoodie, named Toast, and he will set up a run."
I resist the urge to correct him on my buddy's species.
"Will do" I say as he turns and goes back to the crowd of deer women he had been talking to earlier.
"Guess it works." I mumble to myself.
I continue down the line noting which cars I know and which I don't, noticing a few sporting my "VA" sticker and I smile inwardly. That one I hooked up the kid with a new exhaust, freeing up 10 horse power. that one a lightweight flywheel setup, full fuel system tune on that one.
After walking the line and mentally tagging a few potential marks, a weasel, in his signature grey hoodie and long black slacks, approaches me. Everyone knows he wears the covering clothes to shield his furless back. Not everyone knows that it was not a bar fight that made him that way, but from when he ran into squirrel family's house, to save them from a fire, that he got the scars on his back. After all, he has the image of a tough guy to uphold, not one of a soft hearted hero.
"You must be Max." he introduces himself to me. Only I catch the look of recognition in his eyes.
"Yeah, thats me."
"Got a guy interested in running you, if you have the cash."
"I'm good or it."
"Ok, the red Herd Frakus over there is first up, 2 bills good for you?"
"Rather do 5 hundred."
"I'll check with him and let you know."
"You do that."
I head back to my car pleased with how fast the first nibble came in. Time to go fishing.
