Chapter 2: Warehouse #14
Dom had got one foot into the Nissan before the driver floored the gas. The car revved up so far that smoke was being produced by the rear wheels at excessive amounts, enough to cover the car, making it invisible to those behind it. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the drivers hand moving towards the handbrake, realising what was about to happen he quickly grabbed the roof and holding on tight he pulled the rest of his body onto the car. Just as he got in the car pulled off producing a long eleven, a couple of metres long. Dom closed the door, yet this proved a great task. The door had been blown fully out due to its monstrous power and it needed a fully outstretched reach to grab the handle.
"How long it's been then, boyo?" Came from the driver, as she shifted from second to third, doing about 70 mph. Dom moved his head around to face his cousin, Rachel. Rachel had once lived in Los Angeles but when she was young her parents decided to move further north, as Los Angeles had become so dangerous. Gun crime was on the increase in the late 80's, scaring off the family.
"A long time, Rachel." He replied. "A lot of things have changed since then … still good to see ya." Rachel was about average height and quite slim. She was slightly tanned over her body, which was toned. She obviously knew how to protect herself! Rachel wasn't the prettiest of people, but was quite cute. She was wearing a low cut black top with jeans on and a lovely necklace; she obviously spent time dressing herself to draw attention to her breasts. "You slut!" Dom thought. Rachel seemed in a hurry, still flooring the gas, power sliding around each corner turning the car a good 80 degrees. "Have I come at a bad time?" Dom asked her.
"Supposed to be at a meeting, but nothing that has set me back too much. Look … you're not a cop are you?" She probed.
"That's the last thing I'd be." He confidently answered.
"Good, because where I'm going isn't … well legal." She said worriedly.
"I guess it runs in the family, a bit obvious if you ask me with you driving around town like this." Said Dom jokily
"I need the cash, that's all I can say, then I'm going straight." She said.
"What d'ya mean, girl." Dom asked.
"Needed some cash for my crib, so I went to a loan shark, ended up racing to pay the interest instead of letting them just break my legs. Last race before I can pay them off." She replied whilst turning her head to look out the side window, she knew just how stupid she had been. "So anyway what brings you here?"
"Long story." He paused whilst he built up his courage. "Look I need a place to say, just for a while whilst I get myself back on my feet again." Knowing what Dom was up to, Rachel was thinking of cheap hotels to go to, but then she remembered that family sticks together, altering her mind.
"You can stay at mine then, but only as long as you absolutely have to." She told Dom.
"Thanks … so is this it then?" They had arrived at an old, worn down warehouse. It was certainly derelict, made of wood; the building had begun to rot. The roof was made of girders and windows, many of which had become grey and dusty, showing he buildings age. So much that bird shit had begun to build up in some areas. The front doors had probably rotted so much that they had fallen off, as they no longer existed.
"Yeah, this is the meet place for tonight." Rachel coasted into the warehouse to reveal some 30 – 40 cars lined up at the sides of the warehouse. There were allsorts of cars from big, powerful American muscle cars like Dom's favourite the dodge viper to sporty European track cars like the Porsche 911. Music was blasting out from several of the cars, the music tended to a mixture of hip-hop and dance music (just with the bass turned right up), much of which Dom had albums of in Los Angeles. He soon recognised the music and it became a symbol of his past life in Los Angeles. He tried to ignore it, focusing more on the rock anthems that he hadn't heard before. Rachel parked her car about half way down on the left, as this was the first space she came across.
"Just going to book my place in tonight's race ok, wont be long." Rachel informed Dom. She got out of her car and walked off to the end of the warehouse, out of his sight. Dom began to look around at what his cousin had parked next to. To the Nissans left was a black Dodge Charger, similar to his late fathers. Dom quickly turned around to face the other way, as he didn't want to be reminded of what had happened whilst racing Brian. The car had scared him then and still now, many hundred miles from Los Angeles; it still sent a shiver down his spine.
To his right was a rare car, a vehicle he wouldn't expect to see modified, one of the only cars he believed to be beautiful. A Cadillac Cien stood before him, Dom proceeded to opened the door and get out to get a closer look. The car was blue with a silver man pointing to the engine stretched across the side. The alloys were painted gold, complete with spinners, which looked like a hurricane. Dom knew that this was a fast car, a specification he had longed for. A car with 720 bhp would slaughter anyone in a drag, with nos it was unbeatable. Then he remembered Rachel, he had to stop her racing, unless she liked blowing thousands of dollars.
Dom to move towards the end, quickening up as he got closer. He scanned the place to see if he could see her and stop her closing in on the deal. He spotted her at 11 o'clock, talking to a bloke near what looked to be an old, run down office. He was quite small, about just short of 5 foot and seemed to have had his fair share of pies over the years. He was wearing a red shirt, black shorts and a pair of brown sandals. He face looked as if he was Mexican, and also included a long, caterpillar like moustache, blue eyes and a lot of stubble on his chin. He was bald but wore a distinct green bandana, probably belonged to gang.
"Dom." Rachel called, as he jogged over to her. "This is my cousin Dominic." She told the stranger. "Dom this is Pedro
"Pleased to meet you, homie." He replied, I a deep Mexican accent. Dom just nodded back to him, he wasn't impressed.
"Pedro is the race organiser around Seattle or event manger as he likes to be called." Rachel said whilst giggling.
"Look Rachel, there's summuts I have to tell, you its about one of the racers." Urgently Dom said.
"It'll have to wait, the race its about to begin." She replied.
"If I don't tell you know the race will become pointless." He rapidly butted in with. Suddenly Pedro announced from a megaphone details about where the race was to begin. Without wasting a second, all the people presents rushed to the sides, towards their cars, leaving the centre clear. Car engines began to roar as they were revved up, and then all the cars began to pour out of the exit. Dom looked around and began to panic; he had been left on his own. Nevertheless, in all the confusion a 350Z pulled up besides him, the door opened and out came an order.
"Jump in, quick." Rachel hadn't quite forgot him. Once he had clambered in, she drove off into the city centre. Dom posed the question to Rachel.
"Do you know what you're getting yourself into?" He probed her with.
"Course I do, more street-wise than you obviously think." She replied, quite annoyed at his probing.
Your up against a cien, what were you thinking?" He said.
"I don't know, look I'm desperate for the cash." Worriedly said.
"Pull out now, while you still can, there's always tomorrow." He answered.
"Then I'll have to forfeit my money, I might as well stay in." She replied
"Then let me drive, currently your far too nervous to race and although that's acceptable it's ruining your driving." And Dom was right. All her confidence had suddenly gone, once he mentioned the cien. She couldn't power slide anymore, and resorted to going around the corners slower. She even once spun the car, a sign that she'd lost it. "When I was in L.A., I was top dog on the underground, unbeaten I was for the last two years. Street racing was my life. Give me a chance; you'll increase your chances … it'll pay you for letting me stay."
"I … I don't know." She replied nervously.
"Let me know, soon." She calmly said. Already at the starting line were the other competitors. Sat in the middle was the cien, which Dom had seen earlier, ready to go. A racer of the name Razer was driving the car. He couldn't be seen though; he had his windows tinted, stopping anyone from seeing in.
To the right of the cien was a Honda Civic Type-R. The car was red, with lots of vinyls over it. On the bonnets was a raging tiger, looking like it was jumping out from the engine. On the back there was a massive spoiler, painted yellow to make it stand out. Across the back screen was a massive alpine sign that had been sprayed onto the car. Down each side were the number one and the driver's name, like normal racers have on them. It read Franky, and he was someone who liked racing, as his car shows. Franky was one of the older drivers at 31, he had short blonde hair, medium build and was racing in a suit. He had been racing for a good ten years around Seattle. Franky had just got out of prison for stealing cars and was raring to get back to his old winning ways.
The 350Z soon pulled up, to the left of the cien in the only space possible. The suddenly one of the cars doors opened and a figure ran out into the crowd to watch the race. The driver's side window began to wind down to reveal to the crowd just who was the final racer …