Once again uploading late and I do apologize. A family emergency nailed me with a tough setback on time. Nonetheless I had some help in deciding how to progress the story, but I'll keep him anonymous for now. Anyhow, I hope the long wait is OK, and the chapter as well.

Reaction time to rival that a Pro-MOD drag racer, I got off the holeshot and captured first place before my opposition even left the starting line. I quickly backed off the accelerator and coasted before the first corner and waited for the Inferno to catch up and file in front of me. This race would be one of endurance, not shear speed and steering, and I had to treat it as such. I needed to let them all pass by me before we entered the first corner as soon as they caught up.

I knew they didn't have to worry about their tire tread wearing or overheating, nor did they need to worry about fuel consumption, which staked me at a monumental disadvantage on a course with sweeping turns such as this one. I couldn't full throttle or input steering too hard, and I was struggling trying to formulate a plan, which wasn't going brilliantly. My reverie was interrupted by the loud growl of 3 throaty V8's screaming by me on the right side at double my speed.

Once the first corner approached, the rival crew was able to powerslide through and over the curb and maintain a decent form of speed on their exit. Myself on the other hand, I had to drop my RPM's down to 2,000 in 2nd gear to make sure I wouldn't encounter wheelspin on the entry and exit. My line was pretty much running the outside wall of the turn and inching closer towards the middle of the course. I could faintly see the other drivers ahead of me, but I knew their lead would increase if I didn't take a few risks. I didn't want to lose, losing was something I didn't do. I applied full throttle in 3rd gear, waited until the tachometer needle met redline, and shifted into 4th.

Or at least I tried to.

I let off the gas all the way, pushed in the clutch pedal and tried connecting my shifter into the gate of 4th gear, but it wouldn't budge at all. The transmission was overheating from driving all day; something I should've been wary of. Now I only have 3 gears on a course that requires wide open throttle and long gearing to make any sort of progress. I kept chugging along to the best of my ability, which was behind the pack of drivers. Turn after turn was the same old story; pedal the car to the point of borderline pedestrian speed, lose precious time and essentially give up the race at every corner. A sharp right came up after a short straight-away and I mentally prepared my line, apex, and exit. The finish line was in sight and I had 2 more turns until I was home free.

Of course Lady Luck came back to meddle with my already piss poor bout of luck. Unfortunately a taxi pulled out directly in the middle of my line as I was about to enter. As if the rotten bout of luck I was experiencing wasn't enough as it is.

In a panic I shoved the shifter into neutral, the lever grinding against the transmission synchros until it finally gave in. This meant I couldn't input any throttle in an attempt to salvage my line. My balding rear treads made it so I slid out further coming closer and closer to a concrete construction barrier. They may as well have been bias-ply tires, the lack of traction I had here. I was sweating bullets in the 5 seconds this has all been occuring, and it didn't help that in 5 more seconds I wouldn't be able to feel anything.

It seemed as though time slowed down for me to make a move. I engaged the shifter into 2nd gear and hit the throttle, keeping it planted as far down on the floor mats as it could. I could feel the cheap plastic pedal beneath my boots flex under the added tension, but I kept it matted and applied full opposite lock on the wheel in attempts to countersteer and drift out of this scenario. All I had to do now was maintain position and pray to the car gods that this night wouldn't be my last. Smoke clouded my peripherals as the engine was whimpering and whining sending the tiny plumes out between the gaps in the hood and straight through and out the back of the exhaust tips.

The wall was coming closer now.

3 seconds until impact.

I knew I wasn't getting out of this unscathed, nor was the car by any stretch. I fumbled for the seatbelt buckle in attempts to lessen the blow the inertia would send to my body upon impact. Because of my clammy state the buckle slipped once and I almost dropped it. I felt like Neo. Every valuable second being wasted by a force completely out of my control, no way to counter it.

2 seconds.

I finally clasp the belt into the buckle on the bench seat and prepare to brace for a brutal impact. At this point me and the car found ourselves on a patch of dirt leading up to the impact point. Dust, dirt, and debris sent through the front grille clogged up the carburetor within an instant, and soon the engine was feeding on the trash mixed in with the oil. I shifted my glance to the oil pressure gauge and saw it rapidly increase all the way until it was maxed out. At that same moment the engine died all together, leaving nothing but a 2 ton heavyweight at 50mph with a horror-stricken pilot to endure a miserable bout of pain.

1 second.

Times up.

Nothing could've prepared me for the agony I was facing.

The front left quarter panel made contact first, crumpling under the contact of the barrier. The fender bracing and the control arms and axles went shortly after, the wall showing no signs of budging. Soon the drivers side door plowed into the erected structure, I was thrown by the shear amount of inertia out of my seat as the car was making impact. The belts holding me down instantly gave way leaving me vulnerable to whatever came next. Once the entire car came in contact with the barrier, the plume cloud of smoke erupted from the motor and the hood pins became unclasped and threw the shaped piece of metal off the car completely, now my vision totally blinded.

But it wasn't over yet.

The weight of the car and the weight of the barrier tipped over to the left side, sending both the concrete and the car airborne with all that kinetic force behind. Now sitting airborne in a flying car, arms flailing and voice hoarse and panic-stricken, it was inevitable the impact was going to hurt like a bitch, and as much as I knew that, I wasn't even remotely close to ready to endure any of it.

And there was the crunch.

After flying at least 15 feet upward, barreling and careening over the desolate, dark street was my landing zone; hard packed dirt. The car came down on the roof, sending a shockwave throughout the entire chassis, aching to be let go of the immense amount of tension and stress. Next my body slammed down onto the hard-packed ground with the roof as my shock absorber. I could feel my skeleton buckle under the immense amounts of pressure, and it kept building. As the rest of the car collided with my back and folded around me. My body was forced to fold into a ball to absorb the impact of 2 tons of steel coming down hard on me. I felt like I was on fire, every bone and ligament aching for release, the pressure becoming too much for my body to handle. As the car rolled over one final time, all of the broken glass began piercing my skin, leaving trails of blood in every which direction, My forehead nailed a sharp piece of glass leftover from whatever window it was shook out of, and pierced through my already barbarically bloody skin. Once I felt the vertigo fade away I felt nauseous, if I felt anything at all. My vision was blurry and my ears were ringing. My breath was hitched in my throat and the only noise I could make was a faint whimper.

The pain was immense.

I was trapped inside a dented and broken shell of a car whilst my lifeforce slowly begins to fade away due to loss of blood and probably even nerve damage by this point. I tried summoning whatever leftover energy I had to kick out a panel and slip underneath the wreckage. Unfortunately, the moment I made contact, was the moment my femur bone broke contact with cartilage, leaving it broken and leaving my emotional state in tatters. I began thinking this all happened for a reason. I suspected foul play for a split second, then realized nobody was that petty to slip underneath and sabotage my car.

The corners of my vision grew black with a regretful haze as I came to the conclusion this was the end of the road for me. All it took was my brash and infantile impatience for my life to close the curtains on me.

I had a wingman.

He could've blocked my opponents from passing or ram them off the road allowing me to win. 20/20 hindsight really is a whole bitch at times, this one being the worst account of my ignorance. Neville would've been the one to lead me across the finish line in one piece, but instead here I am in a weakened state and comparing my situation to a bunch of 'what if' scenarios. I felt hollow thinking back to what I had 'accomplished' over the years.

I lost a girlfriend. My best friend.

I won street races.

I was victim of a hit.

I won more races.

I got locked up for standing around.

I jumped a bridge with an entire police force chomping on my ass.

I'm neglected by my old family.

Wallowing in self pity seemed like the only thing I was capable of doing right now. May as well recognize all of my bad omens and unkept promises since the inception of my racing. Had this incident not occured I would've been an errand boy with a never ending agenda. I would've progressed to higher class vehicles until my debt was paid off. And at that point, what would've been the reward? Calling the odds between me and Darius even? Nikki still relentlessly making my guilty self that much worse?

I lost her before I lost anything else the moment I crossed that finish line.

And yet my good fortune wasn't over yet, as now there were inbound sirens - Cops.

I just remained folded in on myself as the Doppler Effect from the sirens grew louder and closer. I began to relax, tension no longer an option as there is no escape opportunity to be on high alert for. My fate was sealed as tightly as the handcuffs to my hospital bed and the shackles to my prison cell would soon be. Instead of letting my eyelids drift shut, I squeezed them together tightly as the pain flared up again from all parts of my body. I've struggled by this point not to let any tears flow, but in my current form it wasn't as though somebody would notice. I let burst a massive dam of emotions and let the the tears stream down my rough patchy skin and puddle beneath my seat. My body racked with sobs and wails as my shuddering figure grew louder within the confines of the wreckage I've caused.

My consciousness was fading due to my immense blood loss, shards of razor-sharp glass embedded into my once decent looking skin. The sirens grew louder, and the civic cars grew closer to the point where the ambient blue and reds are seen radiating in hues off the polished steel buildings. Bigger shades of red and blue cascaded through the complexes behind my crash site and were closing in within the next minute. I heard the modular V8's coming from the South, but now there was a 3rd V8 coming from the Eastward side and closing in faster than my black and white assailants were. Abruptly, the pavement was shaking as 2 tires were skidding in my general direction. The miniature cataclysm I was feeling subsided as I heard the opening and closing of a car door, with light airy footsteps to follow. I felt the door I was leaning against give way and fall to the side as 2 pairs of hands guided me out and into the backseat of what looked like a Blue sedan, but with my blurry vision and black-dotted peripherals the make and model seemed uninteresting at best. I was tossed onto a bench seat and had the door slam shut as the other 2 occupants got in the front seats and sped off with me in tow. The passenger kept sparing glances over her shoulder, but when I coughed and heaved, only did they look back and show me their face.

The last thing I saw before blacking out completely was a ponytail and a trenchcoat.

The horizon was hued in a rich shade of black and grey, infused with the neon lights of Fortuna as Nikki and I trekked along the University Campus at midnight. Both of us in Junior year of high school, we wanted to expand our little stint in racing into a full career; and P.U would be the place to do it. My arm around her waist and my leather jacket draped around her as we strolled let the world know that we were an inseparable pair. Territory under control of TFK never spared a moment's worth of silence, and we both got a taste of just that, as a Porsche Cayman S, Aston Martin DB9, and Alfa Romeo Brera screamed by inches away from the sidewalk we were on, and continued on down the stretch. The night life in Fortuna was definitely a riot, one to be involved with if you had the proper connections. If you weren't racing at full throttle, your faithfulness bound only to your crew, TFK wasn't the avenue for you.

After Nikki decided she'd had enough of the campus scenery, we found it best to leave and head for home back in the outskirts of Downtown. We rounded the corner to the parking complex and ascended what felt like years worth of stairs until we reached the top level. Tucked neatly in the further corner of the concrete structure stood a 1995 Mazda MX-5. It wore a blemish-free white paintjob like a runway model. RS Watanabe 15" wheels wrapped in 235/50/15 Toyo Proxes made it a grip monster. But don't you believe for a moment that she was down on power by any means. Oh no, she got the royal treatment, a transplanted Renesis Rotary motor from an RX-8 gave her a healthy dose of 250hp.

As Nikki approached, I was about to offer her the door, but she'd rather Dukes of Hazzard style hop in the passenger seat, which was fine by me once I stifled a laugh at her antics. I slipped in shortly after and slotted the key into the ignition, flipped my oil cooler fans on and turned the key with the clutch in. The 1.3L roared to life and peaked at 9,500 RPM; apex seals on the rotor gliding beautifully along the rim of the chamber it was housed in. I slipped the sequential dogbox transmission into 1st gear and fishtailed out of my parking spot down towards the bottom of the building. I shifted my G-forces towards the left side of the car as I directed the motion fluently down the spiral towards the main road. I glanced to my right and saw the brightest smile, I swore the sun was blinding my vision. But no, it was just Nikki, and through my eyes that was pretty much the same thing.

We coasted down the backroads into Downtown, carving out every apex and racing line the road threw at me. My concentration couldn't possibly be broken.

But, it was.

Nikki yawned beside me and that was my queue to slow it down some and cruise along sensibly. Her appreciation was gifted through her heavy and tired form leaning up against mine and taking my body hostage. I could feel her breathing slow down and her eyelids droop further down as she was nearly knocked out. I gave her forehead a faint kiss and went to upshift.

"I love you, John"

I smiled in acknowledgement, knowing she was far past the stages of waking up again. I merely kept my eyes forward, smile never leaving my lips as I trekked into Downtown, rotary spinning in rhythm with my heartbeat. All of the sudden, a loud crash was heard, and my vision clouded instantaneously with pure white. The car disappeared from beneath me and I was intangibly bounded to a seat as the picture seen through my eyes changed to one of a hospital room. I looked around as far as my head could swivel and saw nothing but a lifeless corpse hooked up to a heart monitor with an oxygen mask and IV's coming out of it. I allowed myself to walk over and lift the cover off the figure. What I uncovered was surreal. It couldn't be possible. What did it mean?

It was me.

I shot up and spiked the monitor levels through the maximum and set an alert off as I leaned on my elbow and stared around to make sure this was real and not another hallucination. I pinched myself multiple times, and concluded I wasn't dreaming. Just then a nurse threw the double doors to my room open and in tow followed the face that stole the smile from my face merely moments ago. Although that face wasn't as happy.

Nikki.