FASTER THAN GOD
By Jashi
Heh. I hope ya liked the first chapter, as I certainly did. I love that song…and The Red Hot Chili Peppers…3_3
Troy and Xander use some…very colorful language. That is mainly why this is rated PG-13.
Enjoy.
CHAPTER TWO:
(Two Years Later)
Xander Cage shuffled his feet as he sat in the chair. He'd been here for nearly two hours. And Gibbons still hadn't shown up.
Where the fuck is he? I'm tired of waiting. At this thought, Xander got out of his chair and headed for the door, shoving a guard out of the way.
And of course, he ran right into Gibbons on his way out.
Gibbons was sweating, and he pushed X right back into the room. Grabbing a remote from the table, he clicked on the TV.
"Watch." the solemnly scarred face said.
X turned his attention to the screen.
"Exactly eight hours ago, California was the victim of one of the world's biggest explosions yet. In Sacremento, a huge, nuclear-suspected explosion took place at the city's center and the whole west side of the city was wiped out. What remains at hand is exactly who did it. Government officials are---"
Gibbons clicked off the TV. Xander jumped up, his fists clenched, his mind racing.
"Goddammit! What the hell is going on here?!" he yelled angrily, sending his fist to the table, shaking it.
"X, that's what we're going to try to find out. Look, we've already got the bomb. Come with me." Gibbons walked out, and motioned for Xander to follow. They walked through the hallway, until they finally got to a small room. Gibbons walked inside, and gestured to the downstairs lab.
"That was the bomb."
A car was sitting there, a nice looking Mitsubishi Spyder, actually. It was sure as hell scratched and banged up, but it wasn't missing anything vital, like maybe…the roof.
"You're shitting me. A car that's a bomb blows up in the bombing." X growled.
Gibbons shook his head. "No. We've been looking on the car, and we've noticed quite a few things going on with it that aren't…natural."
"Like what?"
"There isn't an ignition. There are high-tech military programmer-chips installed throughout the radio. Nitrous-oxide, you name it, this things got it."
"What do you mean, there isn't an ignition? Are you saying…?" Xander started to say, his thoughts confused.
"Yes. We have also found several A.I. Chips. Along with some remote control bindings." Gibbons stated.
Xander stared at the car.
"Who gets to drive?"
Gibbons smiled. "Not you."
X whipped his head around to look at Gibbons.
"What do you mean, I can't drive?"
"We've found someone for you to work with, X."
"God, no. I work by myself. If I work at all."
"Not this time. Xander, you aren't a good enough driver to get in an A.I., remote control-binded, wild, out of control car."
"Who's better than me?"
"Someone who lives up in New York, a girl named Troy Ruse."
Xander looked Gibbons straight in the eye.
"You aren't somehow planning to kidnap someone out of their natural home and make them be a screwy part of your NSA? And then when they refuse, threaten to lock them up forever until the life flows out of them?" he snapped.
"We hope we won't have to go that far."
"Go that far? What do you fucking mean, go that far? You shouldn't have gone that far in the first place."
"We do what we have to do." Gibbons's voice struck a final tone.
Xander turned away, still very pissed off. Gibbons handed him a map.
"The girl's name is Troy Ruse. She's a street racer in New York. Somewhat like you, only, probably one of the best drivers in the world. Started out as a 44th Street racer, then moved down to 178th West, 113th, and Damark."
"So she's gonna drive?"
"Yes. And you're going to bring her here. Take the stun-darts if you want. Be quick, be alert, get her out of here, you have two days." he stated and turned to exit the room.
X started after him, opened his mouth to protest, then stopped. He wasn't going to shake Gibbons, obviously.
He opened the map.
44th , 178th West, 113th, and DAMARK? How the hell did a twenty-one year old girl get on Damark Street?
You've gotta beat Markus to get on Damark…damn. She really must be one hell of a driver.
~~~Damark Street, New York City, 11:00PM~~~
(Troy's POV)
Here I am.
Again.
With the jackasses and dopers of the underground racing world around me. A thousand people, a million people, five people. Too many, not enough. Sex is in the background, pill bottles roll around on the floor when the cars start.
I am Troy Ruse.
I beat Markus on Damark Street six months ago. I beat Jack Schitt, also known as Andrew Kinlling, two years ago.
I beat everyone.
Life is the only race I lose.
I am forever damned to be on the underground. I can't do anything other than these street races beneath society.
Society fucking needs to suck that guy's balls over there. Maybe if society would accept us as we are, cops wouldn't come over here all the time, I wouldn't be driving from street to street, maybe we could go fast in peace.
A bald, very muscular, tattooed guy walks over to me.
"Hey." I offer up a neutral, cautious greeting.
"I want to race Troy Ruse. For one thousand dollars, if you could point me to her. Or if she's not here, I'll just be on my way." he says this seriously, but with a cocky glint in his eye.
I stand up to my full 5'11" height. This guy still is a couple inches taller than me.
"Make the man lose some bucks, Ruse. Come on, no one's raced in a while." Benji says from behind me.
"You mean one hour." I say back jokingly.
Back to Mr. Skinny-Ass over here.
"Sure. I'll race. One thousand? And if I lose, you get…one thousand. What are you racing with?" I ask routinely.
"Pontiac GTO. One thousand sounds fine."
Well, it better fucking sound fine. GTO? Beautiful cars. You can do all sorts of shit to them.
"Fine. GTO versus El Camino. Pop your collar, player. Let's get this shit going." I say, with a little cockiness in my voice. I turn to tune up my El Camino a bit.
"Shit sounds fine."
~~~a half an hour later~~~
Game set match. In my El Camino at the starting line, I check everything. Nitrous-oxide components, spikes, everything. One thing goes wrong, I go speeding into big, hard, concrete wall.
I roll down my window.
"I never got your name."
"Xander Cage."
Hmm. He's probably one of those car/board/anything jackers that do crazy stunts and then throw the car off the cliff.
Why waste a good car that you could fully temperament with and make it a fucking Street Machine of Speed?
A stupid, fucking insensitive person, that's who.
I suppose maybe I care too much about cars. Maybe I know too much, am too good.
It doesn't matter.
Fire up the engine. Rev it up a bit. It's show time, I suppose.
I am Troy Ruse.
I hope God doesn't forget me out there.
(the Narrator's POV. Me, basically.)
Xander gunned his engine and the man standing between the two cars waved his arms and ran.
GO!
Troy flew in the car, speeding, zooming, flying, Xander close behind. They raced, each emitting screams of nitrous-oxide, clashing with spikes, until they were almost there.
Then the unthinkable, the truly unthinkable happened.
There was a small street leading out on to Damark, a small, small street. One car could fit through there. Troy happened to be racing on the left, the closest. Just before the end of the race, just before she could reach across the line, a cop car swung out into the street.
Troy's El Camino went flying.
It flipped over the cop-car, twirled and rolled on it's side a good eighty feet. It screeched and skidded on the street until it finally hit a wall.
The crowds on the side were screaming and running away from the scene, at the fact there was a cop.
Xander skidded to a stop, and jumped out of his GTO, running towards Troy's car.
"Oh shit, Gibbons's gonna kill me, Gibbons's gonna kill me…" he muttered, hoping deep inside she was still alive.
The car wasn't burning, nor threatening to blow. The side window broke, and hands emerged from the broken wreckage, getting cut on the glass.
"Holy shit…" the bloodied and battered Troy muttered. "Damn, I haven't done that in a couple years. Jesus CHRIST!"
Xander helped her out of the broken window.
"Jesus, are you alright?" he asked, slowly, inconspicuously reaching for his gun with the stun-darts in it.
Troy eyed his hand.
"To think…" she said softly, a smile on her face. "I just survived that to have you shoot me in the head."
Xander sighed. He hated it when people thought things like that. Troy's eyes rolled back into head and she fell forward. Xander instinctively caught her. He reached for his gun and shot her with the dart.
"That'll put her out for a while…at least until we get back to Gibbons…"he muttered to himself. He carried her to the GTO and put her in the back seat, quickly driving away, back to the NSA.
~~~~~~~~~~
Holy crap, that RHYMED! DUDE!
The "Pop your collar, player." was meant to be a joke. ^_^ xXx is not mine.
~~WSHNN
