One red light
Link checked his belts and harness one final time, giving them a hard tug to make sure they were tight. His other hand went up to his head and neck restraint, doing the same check to confirm the tether was securely anchored to his helmet. Better to know they were tight and secure now than find out the hard way that they weren't.
Two red lights
Link's left hand went to the steering wheel, squeezing the leather causing it to crack and squak beneath his gloved fingers. His thumb rubbed against the metal spoke of the wheel checking the grip he would have on it when it came time to turn it in anger. In front of him several of the other cars roared to life as some of the more excitable drivers revved their engines. Link let out a deep breath he had not even consciously held as his heart joined the engines and began to race. .
Three red lights
His feet found both the brake and clutch pedals and pressed them both to the floor. His right hand disengaged the parking brake next to him before moving a few short inches to the gear lever. With the clutch engaged it was safe to put the transmission into first gear where a high ratio would launch the car from its position on the grid. With that done his right hand joined the left on the wheel and the long seconds ticked by as he anxiously adjusted his grip.
Four red lights
His right leg rotated so that the ball of the foot remained pressing down on the brake pedal while the heel found the throttle. All three pedals were now pressed hard to the floor. The engine in front of him roared to life, climbing quickly in tone as the tachometer jumped to redline. Soon the high pitched whine was joined by a steady beat as the engine bounced off the rev limiter. But Link could not hear any of it as his senses were filled with an entirely different percussion. His pulse pounded hard and fast in his ears and he felt as though he could go deaf from that sound alone.
Five red lights
Every car on the grid was now singing their own one note songs. The symphony was a simple one but it resonated in every driver nonetheless. Link's eyes were glued on the same thing every other driver was wholly focused on. The bright grid of LED lights which hung above the start finish line. Fractions of a second ticked by like minutes as everything the day had built towards prepared to be unleashed.
Zero red lights
By the time the red lights had been replaced by green Link's feet were already moving. His right twisted to release the break while his left lifted to disengage the clutch. He could feel the engine start to engage with the rest of the drivetrain and surge power to the rear wheels. The tires spun and smoked as they struggled to reconcile the power being sent through them with their own grip on the asphalt below. Link lifted and feathered the throttle, riding the line between acceleration and loss of grip. The sooner the tires got hooked up the better but he could not risk letting the engine slow and bog down either.
Before his eyes every other car on the grid began the same battle. Some cars fishtailed as their drivers lost control of the rear, others got better starts and began to move forward with purpose. The instant Link's tires began to grip the track his foot slammed the gas pedal down to the floor. He had work to do and no time to waste.
He had spent all of the short qualifying session replacing a snapped belt in the engine leaving him to start in the back after not setting a time. With the entire field in front of him and only ten laps to race he had to make up ground fast. Right now was the best time to make up positions with all his opponents bunched up. Every corner would spread the field out and by the end of the first lap positions would be hard to make up.
His car launched out of its spot on the starting grid and he began to take the car up through the gears. By the time he crossed the starting line he was already in third gear and had passed a few of the cars with poorer starts. Looking up ahead of him he saw himself gaining on most of the cars in front of him. He had gotten a good start and his hopes of a good finish were still alive for now.
He began to snake his way through the back half of the field, passing cars on whichever side there was room. When two cars took up either side of the track he gunned for the middle. When another car looked to block him off he kept the throttle pinned and forced his car between his opponent and the pit wall causing a deep thud as the other car banged off of his. Link winced beneath his helmet as he imagined what damage had been done but had no time to dwell on it as he continued up the hill which led into the first turn, a left hander which sat right at the crest of the hill. It was long, wide, and flat out even at racing speeds. Link cut to the inside before letting the car swing back to the outside after the crest of the hill for the lead up to the first real challenge of the track.
In front of him he could see the lead cars already braking for turn two at the third brake marker. Link put his car as far to the right as he could for a wide entrance into another left hand corner. He flew past the third marker and jumped on the brakes only once he hit the second, swerving inside of a slower car that had slowed sooner. His feet danced over the pedals, tapping the throttle with his heel as he downshifted from fifth gear down to third.
He ended up turning in sooner than his rivals but that was all according to plan. As they aimed for the center apex of the one hundred eighty degree hairpin he hit the inside curb earlier, driving in deeper and letting the car swing out wide while other cars were at the apex. Using the brake to get the car to rotate he aimed for his second apex, getting a straighter and thus faster exit onto the next straight.
Once again the car swung out to the right before Link took it right back across to the left. His greater momentum carried him past yet another opponent. Clearing him just as they approached the next turn. He hardly slowed for the fast right hander, staying in third gear as he dabbed the brakes to get the car to turn in. He was back on the throttle almost immediately as he took the car through the corner and drifting out almost to the grass on the exit. The next corner was much the same, another right hander with barely a lift needed to take the sweeping turn. To Link's satisfaction he once again got a great run through the corner, allowing him to catch and pass another car through the kink which led up to the fifth turn.
The engine hit redline in fourth gear for a mere instant before Link was on the brakes just past the third marker and downshifted before turning in hard for the left hander. The exit of this turn began the long climb uphill. The engine didn't even make two hundred horsepower and it was times like this when that fact was easy to feel. The car struggled to accelerate uphill but still the speedometer slowly ticked upwards nonetheless. He managed to get a run on the car in front of him but much to his frustration had to back out on the approach to the next corner.
Turn six was a fast left hand kink. The racing line was narrow and taking two cars through side by side would be a gamble to say the least, far too risky for the first lap of the race. Unfortunately this also meant that Link would have to wait until even further into the lap to make another try for a pass.
The long uphill climb continued, leveling off just in time for turn seven, a slight right kink that would be completely inconsequential were it not for what laid after it. The hardest corner on the course. The one turn that made every adrenaline junky with four wheels and an engine want to come to this track, The Corkscrew. A left right chicane made complex by the steep drop off in the middle.
Link braked as late as he dared and turned in for the blind first apex. His heart went into his throat as the front of the car dipped down and he made the near sixty foot plunge, his car jumping from fifty miles per hour up to sixty in a near instant as it's power was aided by gravity. He could feel the suspension crying out in pain as it compressed at the bottom of the drop. Through what felt almost more like luck than skill he hit the second right hand apex and swung out wide using as much of the track as he could.
Link's foot jumped back on the throttle as soon as he thought the car was settled which was apparently sooner that the car in front of him as he managed to get to it's inside on the short run to the next turn. With the shorter line Link was able to easily complete the pass through the long downhill sweeper, coming out wide on the right before shooting over to the left for the penultimate corner.
A dab of the brakes to make the car turn in and back on the throttle early. His momentum carried into a run on the next car but they took a defensive line, knowing it would be difficult to impossible to pass around the outside of the final corner. But Link had a plan. He drove the car in deep, braking a bit later than he normally would for the final left hander which was the slowest on the course. Not to be out done his opponent drove in even deeper, only to lock up the brakes as he struggled to slow for the sharp corner. He slid far past the turn in point, allowing Link to cut in early and easily make the pass. Once again on the start finish straight he accelerated hard, working his way up through the gears. As he crossed the line he checked the position board. He had made it up to tenth from twenty fourth on the grid, thanks mostly to passes made at the very start. From here on out it would be harder to overtake however. Not only were the leaders already spread out from each other but there was a reason they were the leaders. They were the best on the track.
But Link was better, that much he knew. But with only nine laps to go and the toughest passes still to make he didn't have much time to prove it.
Impa took a sip from her tea, savoring the pleasant taste and aroma as she sat back and watched the cars take their formation on the grid from her seat on the hill overlooking the track. Taking a long breath of the fresh afternoon air she relaxed in her seat. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and a cool pleasant breeze blowing. All in all it was a perfect day to enjoy a bit of racing.
As the cars below her began to rev up in anticipation of the start she felt a pang of nostalgia. Part of her wanted nothing more than to be down there herself. She may be past her prime but surely she could still handle those underpowered roadsters and show those younger drivers a thing or two. But she had to remind herself that no matter how much she thought her reaction times were still sharp, her old bones were simply not up to the task.
She would have to be content watching from the sidelines. Her eyes scanned through the line up as the lights went out, taking note of every car and their position in the field. When the lights went out and the race got underway she took particular note of the forest green car that started dead last. He had gotten a good start, a very good one at that. It began to quickly rise through the pack on the run up to turn one. Impa chuckeld, either they had jumped the start or they were very lucky indeed. Her interest grew to surprise when not even an attempted block and contact from a competitor slowed the green car's charge. The driver was either too aggressive ot stupid and she half expected to see him lock up the brakes and go straight off the track at the first hairpin.
But as the field came by once again to complete the first lap she second guessed her assumption. Somehow that green car with the number eighty-six hand painted on the side had somehow made its way up to tenth. Even with the great start they still had to have passed about a half dozen cars in one lap by Impa's counting to make it up that far.
Impa sat up in her seat and adjusted her red cap to keep make sure the sun was out of her eyes. She had come to watch a simple club race but it seems things had just gotten quite interesting indeed.
Another minute and a half ticked by before the cars came speeding past her once again. She kept an eye out for car number eighty-six again and took notice of where it ran. Ninth position, whoever was driving that thing had managed to make up a decent sized gap and pass another car in one lap. Her eyes quickly scanned through the field, taking note of the gaps between each of the front running cars. Adding them up Impa estimated that the green car had about seven seconds to make up to catch the leader.
He may have had the pace to do it but passing these cars would be a different challenge altogether than merely catching them. Every corner they didn't make an overtake would be another chance for the leader to extend the lead thanks to the advantages offered by a clear track. The green car may continue to move forward, and might even land a top three finish, but they would probably run out of laps before they could make a serious challenge at the lead.
And yet lap after lap she was given reason to doubt her assumption. The green car would close in a single lap what most would take multiple to whittle down. One by one the challengers ahead fell, and at one point even fell two at once as they made it three wide down the front straightaway.
Whoever was behind the wheel was in a league of their own, that much was clear. But as the race went on her attention turned from the question of what they could do and towards the matter of why they were here. This was little more than a club race in small roadsters with less power than a lot of street cars. If they were as good as they looked then what were they doing wasting their talent at this level?
By the time number eighty-six made it into second place with two laps to go Impa was no longer surprised. She would have to meet the driver after the race, that much was clear. Now the matter of the win came into question. Impa now knew better than to underestimate whoever this was but this would still be quite the challenge. The gap between them and the leader was nearly four seconds. If the leader could keep it clean and mistake-free it seemed they had the win in the bag. They could afford to give off some of that sizable lead and still probably easily win.
However as the leaders came by to take the white flag and start the final lap the lead had been cut in half and then some. Whoever was in that car was far from done. Impa's hands went to the binoculars which hung around her neck. She was not going to miss a single second of this.
The race had passed in a blur for Link. The lap count had quickly been lost as he instead focused on the task at hand, catching and passing as many cars as he could as fast as he could. Every corner he drove in deeper, braking later and accelerating sooner. Everything else around him faded except for his car, the track, and the obstacles between him and the leader.
It wasn't until he saw the white flag that he actually took stock of his situation. A glance towards the position board showed him in second place. That was good but he didn't like what he saw in front of him. There was far too much daylight between him and the leader. He could catch him, that much he was confident in. But by the time he did he may only have one or two corners to try and set up a pass. If the leader was any good he could defend for that long.
Nonetheless Link drove his heart out every turn, hearing the tires beneath him squeal as he pushed them to the edge of adhesion. He was gaining but it wasn't until turn six that he saw a ray of hope. It seemed the leader had taken notice of his charge and had gotten a bit nervous. On the exit of the fast left hand kink they had gone wide. Not by much but by just enough. The rear tires kicked up a cloud of dust as the back end slid out from the sudden loss of traction.
The leader steered into the skid and quickly managed to recover. But they had lost their momentum and in these cars momentum was everything, especially on an uphill climb like this. Link felt as though he would press the throttle pedal right through the floor as he squeezed every ounce of speed he could from the engine.
By the time they approached the corkscrew Link was almost to the leader's bumper. It was close but not close enough. The only good passing opportunity between there and the finish was to out brake the other car into the final turn. However Link didn't much like the thought of waiting until then to try and make a move. He needed to make every opportunity presented to him and make some opportunities of his own when he could.
He knew he could try to make a pass right here and now into the corkscrew, but the racing line was narrow and treacherous and he was further back than he would have liked. He could dive bomb it but he was just as likely to end up in the tire barriers at the edge of the track than actually come out on top. But he could not settle for second. He had to try.
He was not about to back out and let himself doubt, even for a minute, that he was capable of winning.
The leader's car leaned forward as it's weight shifted under braking but Link didn't lift. Swerving to the left he stuck his nose to the inside before finally getting on the brakes past the point he had done so on any lap so far. The tires smoked and squealed and he feathered the pedal as he tried to get as much stopping power as he could without locking the brakes up. He turned towards the apex but knew in an instant that he was carrying too much speed.
Still he did as much as he could to make the corner. He felt and heard a bang as his momentum carried him across and into his opponent. The wheel in his hands rocked back and forth as he struggled to keep the unsettled car not ply pointed in the right direction but rotating back the opposite way to make the second part of the chicane. Against all odds he just barely managed to keep it on track.
Unfortunately his struggle with the car meant he could not get back on the gas as soon as he usually would. His opponent jumped on this opportunity just like Link would have done. But as they approached turn nine Link knew the fight was already won.
He had the inside line for the downhill sweeper and used that to his advantage, pushing his rival wide and forcing him to lift. With that done Link knew he just needed to take a defensive line through the last two turns and keep his car right in the middle of the track to deny the former leader of any room to set up a pass. As they came down the front straight for the final time Link's fist shot up in the air. His tires were shot and his car had more than a few new dents that needed repair but he found it difficult to care about that right now. After all he had just won, what did anything else matter?
He felt he could have reached up and taken the checkered flag out of the marshal's hand right there.
Up on the hill overlooking the track Impa slowly rose up from her seat, careful not to move too quickly and lose her balance. Her knees popped as she stood up and she steadied herself with the walking cane she had taken to carrying around years ago. The small crowd of spectators began to clear out and leave the track but she was going in the opposite direction, towards the pedestrian bridge which ran over the track.
As the drivers went through their cool down laps before making their way back into the pits and garage Impa went as fast as her old bones could carry her. There wasn't much in terms of post race celebrations at these sorts of events. At most there would be a quick ceremony with trophies handed out before the drivers packed up and left. Assuming that whoever was driving that green car hadn't also driven it to the track the process of loading it up onto a trailer should also give her more time to find them.
With each step she took Impa though back over the events of the race and what she had witnessed. The winner was talented, that much was clear. But there were plenty of unanswered questions as well. Who exactly were they and why were they racing at a simple club event when they could and probably should be doing so much more? There were multiple occasions during the race in which they had banged fenders during a pass or kicked up a bit of dust after going wide out of a turn. It was an aggression that was well suited for a short ten lap race but could they also show the patience needed for longer events? And most importantly Impa wanted to know if they would be a good fit for what she needed, and how to get them on board.
As Impa crossed over the pedestrian bridge her eyes narrowed scanned the cars entering exiting the track into the garage area, taking note of where her target was going.
There was only one way to get the answers to these questions, and that was to ask them in person.