3. First Blood
"He got passed? That sneaky piece of shit! That's it! Time to use my monster horsepower to catch up now that I'm on the bottom of the mountain. I gotta beat him to the stop sign ahead!" realizes Pete as he passes Lex's sidelined S13. He quickly redlines his engine and pulls ahead on the straightaway, rocketing ahead past the finish line, without the strange car in sight.
"He's gone this far already? What kind of monster is this Eurotrash?" The trees blur by in the peripheral illumination of his HID headlights. He takes on the moderate curves, cutting through the apexes. Pete's body hugs the lateral bucket seat support. Finally, at nearly 100 miles per hour and a mile down the road, he finds a pair of familiar taillights.
"There he is," smiled Pete as he stepped up the pace of his fast Z32. Soon, the taillights become closer and closer.
"Jeez, you're not that fast. It's time to pull over now, bitch!" He honks his horn and flicks his light beams, motioning the strange car to pull over. It then speeds up, ignoring Pete's angry request.
"That little bitch! Get the hell back here, Eurotrash!" yelled Pete as he downshifts and guns his car forward.
"You wanna play this the hard way? Fine! You won't be able to get past the intersection ahead if I'm in front of you!" The Z32 then pulled into the left lane and rocketed ahead as if the strange car was standing still. Almost immediately, Pete could see the familiar two pairs of circular headlights in his rear view.
"I'm almost there, now. There it is!" Seeing the glowing red sign in the distance, Pete jerks his parking brake for a quick second, initiating a high-speed slide, much like the one he performed at the top of the mountain. He stops about thirty feet from the stop sign, perpendicular to the road.
"Now, you can't avoid me, you little Eurotrash bitch," Pete mumbled to himself. Quickly, the oncoming headlights of the strange car illuminate the white paint of his Z32 300ZX. It then makes a chirp, chirp, chirp sound as it slows down and stops from a 60 mph cruise. Pete immediately steps out and marches over with intimidation to the mystery car. He takes his fist and pounds on the driver's side window, peeking inside to see a silhouette of the driver.
"Hey, Eurotrash! Can you hear me, you little bitch? You think that you can just sneak up like that and pass us like that? There is no way that this little shitty Bimmer is faster than my Z32 or Lex's S13! This is our mountain and if you race us, you play by our rules! You don't sneak up on us and consider it a legitimate race! Either you race me on the downhill again starting at the peak next Saturday night at 10 pm, or next time I see you here, I'm pushing you right through the guardrail and toss that Eurotrash Bimmer right over the goddamn cliff! Got that, little bitch? Hey! You fucking hear me?" shouts Pete at the driver, egging him on for another competition. The mystery car then revs up and clunks into reverse. It then rockets backwards and snaps a 180- degree spin and skillfully takes of in the opposite direction.
"Don't you run away from me!" yells Pete running after the car. Just as soon as the taillights of the mystery car disappear behind the bend, Pete sees some familiar headlights come around and illuminate his face. "The S13," He muttered.
"What the shit was that, bro?" asked Lex, as he pulls up by Pete.
"Damned if I know. He's a rude little shit though. Never even showed his face when I challenged him."
"You challenged that guy? He passed you like nothing back there! You don't even come close to skill like that! Jesus, Pete you let your anger get way out of control! You should have never challenged someone like that! He's way out of our league! He probably some old pro driving his old rally car through here late at night. Picked us off like a couple of posers!" scolds Lex, trying to talk sense into Pete. But it's like talking to a brick wall when he's pissed.
"Whatever. I'll be waiting next weekend. He'll come. I know it."
©2005, Marc Gabriel Palardy, All Rights Reserved
