Chapter 3: Donuts and racing don't mix
Pedro stepped out in front of the three cars and shouted to the drivers; "We all know what the circuit is?" Both the cien and the civic then flashed their front headlights to acknowledge what he had just said. After realising that the 350Z hadn't responded, he began to jog the left hand side of the car to talk to the driver. Pedro shortly reached the drivers side and as he bent over to the window, he became confused. "Whaaa…" He said surprisingly, believing the driver to be a bit more feminine.
"Look you got a problem asshole with me switching with Rachel?" Dom put forward to Pedro who couldn't understand why this has happened. This made him unhappy and probably changed his opinion on Dom. Pedro hadn't much time to form an opinion on him as he had only met him for a few seconds earlier that day, yet it was this comment that shifted his thoughts, feeling him to be a dickhead.
"Whatever." He replied, but at the same time, mumbled something to himself, most likely offensive.
"Pardon?" Dom said in a more threatening manner, after hearing him mumble something at him. "Are you gunna just sit there like a lemon or tell me the course?"
"If you insist." He paused. "Drive down the high street until you hit the freeway. There is the finishing line, a simple drag race to suit you rookie." Pedro snarled at Dom, thinking that he had gained the upper hand. Pedro knew that he would be able to slaughter him at the finish, believing this to be Dom's first race. Dom retaliated in great fashion. As Pedro was smirking at the prospect of Dom finishing well out in last, Dom opened the door, smacking Pedro right in the face, knocking him straight to the floor.
"That'll wipe the smirk write off your face." Dom replied with. The crowd had reacted mainly in Dom's favour. Cheering him on, many wanting him to finish him off. It seems that even before Dom had raced; he had already gained some fans. Dom showed his appreciation by waving to the crowd as he closed his door. Yet know he had to concentrate on winning this race. Pedro couldn't believe what had happened, though shocked as he was he picked himself up. Realising that his street cred was a state he turned towards Dom and stuck up his middle finger at him, trying so desperately to show he was hard. Yet Dom just took this with a pinch of salt, he was too busy concentrating on the business ahead of him.
Pedro began to slowly, once again, move in front of the drivers. Watched by all the drivers he pulled out a gun from his back pocket and held it upwards. All the drivers began to concentrate on his finger, which could at any moment pull the trigger signifying the start. Time seemed to slow down as everyone in the crowd began to become quiet. Dom began to sweat, knowing that a lot was riding on this race. He knew he had to win, not only to pay off his cousin's debt but also to piss Pedro off. Pedro's finger slowly tightened, pulling the trigger inwards and the gun fired, creating a small puff of smoke. Dom grabbed his handbrake and lowered it to the floor. At the same time he floored the gas whilst slowly lifting his foot off the clutch. The car's back wheels spun around fast but struggled for grip on the tarmac. A lot of rubber was subsequently burnt, producing a lot of smoke from his rear end. Eventually after about a second the car began to make progress moving forward, accelerating quickly.
The crowd behind gained a great view to watch the start of the drag. Of the three cars, of which Franky in the civic gained the best start, wasting no time to get going. Yet this turned out to be all that they would see, the smoke produced by Dom, created a kind of barrier, blinding them from seeing anything that was happening. Although Rachel had darted into the crowd just before the start, see had hitched a lift to the finish line from a friend, and so missed the start of the race.
However, a couple of blocks down from the start was someone that would have been annoyed o miss the start. Sat in a popular diner in town was an officer, on his tea break or donut break, depending on which side you was on. After hearing the gunshot, the policeman got up and ran outside, leaving the half eaten bagel on the table. Then hearing engines roaring like lions do, he got straight onto his radio. There was no doubt what it was, street racing again. He radioed for back up and got in his car and begun to follow the sounds of the engines.
Meanwhile back in the race, the cars had reached about a third of the way. Dom was sitting in first place. It seems that a good driver could easily make his car better than it should be. The cars were powering up a hill and just as Dom had reached the top of it he looked in his side mirror and saw that the cien was powering towards him. Dom had to hope that he had done enough. Franky's civic never looked like winning the drag after his good start, lack of racing over the years had begun to show as he was slow to change gears, causing him to lag behind the other racers.
Dom got half way down the hill and could see the finish line in his sights, then something happened which wasn't quite what he expected. The other two racers pulled off the course and down another street to the right, moving away from the finish. This confused Dom; was he going the right way, he kept asking himself. Then as he just looked in his rear view mirror he saw the reason. Just coming over the hill at that time were a plenty of cop cars, pouring over the top. "Shit." Dom said to himself. Then he realised just who was in the most danger, Rachel.
Dom sped up the finish line to try and find her. As he was driving there, she ran onto the finishing line to congratulate him. Dom then applied the brakes fully to bring the car to a stop. Metres from where she was standing. She ran to Dom to thank him, but all she got from him was: "Get in quick, the heat is on." Looking behind her, she saw just what was coming her way and began to contemplate getting arrested. She ran around the car and got in the other side, shouting at Dom to get a move on. "Wait a moment." He said. "I've got an idea.".
Dom then revved up the car and spun it around. By now all of those at the finishing line had driven off, down the freeway to escape the slammer, including Pedro with all the money. Facing the cop cars Dom began to drive straight at them, in kind of a chicken contest. Dom chose a car to aim at and drove straight at that car, never moving an inch. Dom had to get this just right or he would end up in a coffin or a cell, neither the way he wanted to start his new life in Seattle. With 10 yards between the two cars, neither had moved an inch.