Disclaimer - you know the drill. Buy ins are how much you pay to race, and winner takes all e.g you each put $50 in winner gets $100 back if there are two racers.

Fuel

Alan swallowed uneasily as he pulled up into the empty car lot for the races on the first Friday after the news report. The lot was crowded with people even though Rubia had change the locations of the race three times. Rubia had sent 'Al' a text letting him know when he'd be racing and how much the buy ins would be for each round. Alan was making between $1,000 and $10,000 a night depending on who he raced and what the buy ins where and he was yet to be defeated.

He grabbed a baseball cap and pulled it low over his face and grabbed a pair of aviators off his dashboard before trying to blend into the crowd. He really didn't want to be recognised and fortunately no one seemed to pay attention to a 15 year old. Thom and Max had left earlier to have a go at winning some money before 'Al' showed up and stole the show – again.

3 hours later and $5,000 richer Alan was racing away from a small group of police cars. Due to the large crowd they had attracted the attention of the local police force a lot quicker than normal. He swerved right to avoid a group of people trying to escape the cops on foot, smacking his head of the side of the car and ended up heading in the wrong direction of Whartons. About five miles down the road he lost sight of any police cars. He made a left turn and tried to work out a way back to Whartons without running into any police cars ignoring the dull throb from his head. Thanks to the report everyone knew 'Al' drove a black Chevy Impala 1967, he would be caught straight away if a cop saw him. As he turned right at a fork in the road he thought about getting another car, something less noticeable. He finally realised he was on the right road that led to the back of Whartons by 1 in the morning. Alan blinked trying to stay awake as he negotiated the tight bends and steep declines of the road, as soon as he got back he was crashing for at least 12 hours.

Gordon looked at the clock. 10:43 . Alan should be up by now he thought clambering out of the lounger by the pool. Gordon gave the water a longing look before shaking the thought out of his system he needed to apologise to Alan not swim away his guilt, how would that help Alan. He jogged lightly up to his room – Virgil was probably still asleep and he'd have hell to pay if he woke him up – and turned on his computer waiting impatiently for it to start up. Gordon flopped down into the spinning chair he had stolen from his Dad's office about a week ago and spun round in continues circles, he finally heard the rewarding beep letting him know the computer was ready for use. He made sure the camera was pointing at him and clicked the first name on the list of contacts. Alan.

Alan moaned as he heard the trill of the computer at his desk. That was it he was unplugging that thing at night. Last term he had tried to turn it off but due to having over protective brothers it was programmed to turn it's self back on at night. Alan's head was pounding, he reached up and gentle felt the right side of his head only to discover a bruise that made him hiss in pain. Realising the computer was still shrilling he flung the first thing he could grab at it. He watched his mobile phone fly through the air then there was silence. He sighed happily and lay back down to go to sleep. Then he was pretty sure his worse nightmare occurred.

"Hey Alan! Why are you still in bed?"

Alan shot up throwing the bed covers off him as he scrambled for the screen if the bruise was as bad as it felt his brothers couldn't see it, he quickly hit the camera so it wasn't facing him and grabbed the wall plug pulling it out of the socket and relaxed against the foot of his bed when he realised it was over. Hopefully Gordon didn't take it too personally.

Gordon stared at the blank screen trying to work out what had happened. Then his senses kicked in. Alan had a massive bruise down the side of his face! He ran downstairs thumping Virgil's door as he passed yelling for a family meeting in the lounge straight away, no one messed with his little brother and got away with it! That was his job.

John listened quietly to Gordan's rant about what had happened.

"He just got up and hung up on me! Why answer if you're going to hang up it's plain rude."

"you woke me up for that?" Virgil asked in disbelief.

"What? No! Alan had a massive bruise on his face! I mean it streached from his above his eye down to his mouth!" Gordon cried looking at his father for help. John quickly stepped out of the room while everyone was distracted and moved into the kitchen, called Alan on his mobile as he went. He leaned back against the cabinets of the modern kitchen as he listen to the dull beeps. The beeps stopped and were replaced by a quiet breathing noise.

"Alan?" he asked quietly if what Gordon said was true Alan would have one hell of a headache. "You there buddy?" he heard a quiet moan and heard the phone being moved before Alan answered.

"Yeah, sorry I had a little bit of an accident." Alan said, voice barely above a whisper. Why did his head hurt so much, he just bumped it right?

"You okay?"

"Yeah just bumped my head on the car when I was racing last night."

"Alan you race in straight lines. How could you have hit your head?"

"I was um … using some evasive skill?"

John sighed "The cops showed up didn't they?" He could hear Alan's phone rustle as he guessed Alan nodded.

"I'm okay it's just a little headache. I'm gonna grab some paracetamol then go have lunch. Okay? I'll call you again later Johnny boy." Alan said pulling himself off the floor where he had stayed since hanging up on Gordon.

"Okay," John said sceptically. "I'll talk to you later." John smiled as he heard Alan grunt in reply then hung up he turned towards the door to see Virgil staring at him as if he had two heads. Crap, Alan was going to kill him.

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