Song(s): Le Disko - Shiny Toy Guns, Keeps Getting Better - Christina Aguilera, Welcome to the Jungle - Guns n' Roses
Eat away!
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Chapter One, Part One: The Race
Jack Mitchell crept out of the shadows of the warehouse and looked both ways before turning back and waving the crowd in. The people flooded in first, laughing and stumbling their ways to the outskirts of the abandoned parking lot. I watched from my hiding spot in the warehouse; the garage which was previously used to unload supplies from trucks. It was completely dark – all part of Brendan’s masterly crafted chorography – but I could see the way the bright overhead lights casted strange shadows on their drunken faces, twisting the images around to make them look like teenage clowns. Most of them kept looking both ways and laughing, like they were afraid of getting caught, but were brave enough to stick it out until they were.
Our cue was coming up soon. I adjusted my leather jacket, brushing down the sleeves. I could see from my peripherals that Brendan was doing the same thing, so I decided to psyche him out just a smidge. I ran my fingers through my long platinum blond hair with black streaks underneath and ruffled the straight layers, trying to look sexy. After that, I slipped my hands into the cool leather of my gloves and strapped the Velcro. I flexed my fingers a couple times as I grinned at him.
“I can’t believe I’m racing a chick,” he said, a disbelieving smile on his face as he looked down at the ground.
“Nervous?” I gibed.
His head shot back up. “No way. You?”
“You wish,” I said with a wink.
I felt bad for leading Brendan on like this, knowing he’d take it as an opportunity to expand our friendship – something he’s wanted to do since the third grade, when we met – but part of me couldn’t help but taunt him. I was riding the high of my adrenaline rush, and I felt so elated that I could’ve sworn I was going to break out laughing.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I heard Jack’s voice faintly announce, “Welcome to this year’s Niagara Falls Secondary end-of-school celebration!”
An eruption of cheers broke out. I turned to Brendan and saw him putting his helmet over his tree bark brown curls, letting it rest on the top of his head. I smirked one last time before I put my helmet on, keeping the visor up so I could see.
“I’d like to introduce you to a very good friend of mine,” Jack said, turning to the audience. Several girls looked flustered, thinking he was going to choose them. But he turned to Kiara Harmon, my best friend, and waved her forward. She sashayed out of the audience in three inch tall stilettos, the world’s shortest short-shorts, and a black leather jacket, looking like Rihanna’s wanna-be blond twin in the music video for Shut up and Drive. Seeing Kiara in all black was shocking; usually she didn’t wear anything but pink Hollister “This is Kiki, our flag bearer for tonight’s race.”
More applause, cheers, and a few whistles came from the crowd.
“Now, I’d like you all to help me welcome Brendan Jones and Ronnie Macintyre!”
Brendan turned to me. “You ready?”
“Oh yeah,” I said, slapping down my visor and kick starting my motorcycle.
We road slowly up to where a make-shift starting line was spray-painted across the flat pavement. My adrenaline spiked as I shifted from face to face of the crowd, watching their wasted faces cheer and laugh. I pulled in my front brake for a burnout, listening to the pistons whine underneath me as my back tire created clouds of smoke. When I was done, I turned to Brendan, imagining his face full of unease.
His canary yellow Yamaha FZ6R posed no threat to me. Brendan called it ‘the hornet’, because his taillights stuck out like a stinger. I called my Buell 1125CR ‘the black stallion’, because it was an American beauty, rather than a peppy Japanese hunk of metal.
The crowd grew silent as Kiara strutted to the middle of the roadway, in between Brendan and me. She shifted her weight on one hip as she pulled out the checker bandana from her back pocket. She held it up in the air by her manicured fingers, flicked her wrist downward, and the bandana fluttered to the ground.
I gunned the bike to life and took off, the night air hitting hard and cold against my torso. I was out of the parking lot and onto the road within seconds, speeding down the empty path. I could see the glare of Brendan’s headlight in my rear-view mirror, gaining dangerously close. I pushed the throttle harder, feeling the road glide by underneath me like the swiftness of a steed.
Eat that, I thought smugly.
The first turn was approaching, so I slowed my bike down and rode the curve like a surfer rides a wave. When my bike straightened out, I sped up, feeling my senses heightening. I passed a number of houses and buildings with their lights all out, their dark shadows shooting by.
The road veered off into both directions, but someone – no doubt Brendan or Jack – marked off the right side with fluorescent orange pylons so the only direction you could take was left.
This was the corner Jack had warned me about, I reminded myself. His words came floating back into my head.
“Right after the second left turn, it shifts right. Watch out.”
I gripped the handlebars harder and took the turn, leaning with the bike. I got ready to turn again, preparing to tilt my body right, when I noticed a shadow flutter in the road. A figure in a midnight black cloak became apparent in my headlights, a hood concealing its face. As I rounded the bend, it looked up, like it just noticed that a motorcycle was coming at it at about a hundred and thirty five kilometres per hour. That’s when its hood slid off, revealing the beautiful face of a girl about my age. Her hair looked like stretched out caramel, spiking straight down to the middle of her torso.
Something glittered off the beam of my headlights, and I spotted a long wooden staff she held in her left hand. On the end was a crescent shaped blade that glittered like a mirror.
I jerked the bike to the left side of the road, trying to dodge the girl while trying not to loose control at the same time. I attempted to swerve back to dodge the cement median, but I was going much to fast.
Time didn’t slow down like it did in the movies. If anything, it seemed to dart by like a speeding bullet. One minute, I was winning the race, the next, I was swerving away from a random girl standing in the middle of the road.
My bike hit the median with a metallic screech and threw me off my seat, sending me flying through the night air. My mind had gone blank; no flashbacks, no thoughts, no emotions. The only thing I could feel was the wind sailing around me.
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