Fic: Wild Force (pt. 10)
[ disclaimers and header info] [prologue]
[ part 2] [ part 3] [ part 4] [ part 5] [ part 6]
[ part 7] [ part 8] [ part 9]
"Well, if nothing else, that whole Race Wars thing made them all want a crack at Wild Force Kincaid," Mackenzie said, highly amused.
"Sure," Cale replied. "If you don't mind giving up your Friday and Saturday nights so you can accommodate them."
It had been weeks since Race Wars, and Cale had had her pick of the competition. In a way it was good; it gave a slight boost to her income from her part-time job at the bookstore, but in a way it was bad, too. It left her precious little time over the weekends for schoolwork.
"Has Hector found a fourth racer? You know he won't run it with only three." Mac, bless her, had taken to the whole street racing thing quite well. She acted as Cale's unofficial agent.
"No, not yet," Cale said, navigating the side streets. "We'll show up and if he can't find someone else we'll propose a bunch of two-car races."
"Good call."
"Thanks," Cale said with a grin.
Normal protocol had been changed for these races. Instead of showing up for the showcasing of the cars, Cale just showed up at the venue and got in line. As much as she despised the continued paranoia, this helped keep the races honest and everyone went home happy. Cale knew it was only a matter of time before they let her back in completely.
As Cale pulled in, she and Mac climbed out. Mac scouted a place to watch on the side while Cale took a seat on her hood. She nodded to the other two racers, drivers of a Honda S2000 and a Mitsubishi 3000 respectively, who returned the gesture. There would be time for socializing later. Right now, there was a race to run.
Cale watched as Hector paced up and down the line, cell to his ear. She only caught snippets of the conversation, but from what she could tell he was trying hard to get a fourth racer on such short notice. Finally, he hung up. With a dejected sigh, he dialled one last number. This conversation was much shorter, but left the man smiling. He held up his hands for attention and then called out, "We have a fourth racer!"
Everyone cheered.
"'Bout bloody time, too," the driver of the S2000 muttered. Cale hid a grin at that. She concentrated on the upcoming race, knowing she only had a few minutes before whomever it was showed up.
And those few minutes didn't take long as the crowd parted to let the newcomer in. Cale glanced over her shoulder and swore loudly. The S2000 racer gave her an amused look. Cale pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut as the red RX-7 came to a stop and Dom slid part-way out the window to toss Hector the cash for the race.
She looked up and caught Dom's eye. She couldn't read the expression on his face, nor did she want to. Keeping her face neutral, she gave him a polite nod and slid off her car. She strapped in, knowing that the others had done so already, and three engines turned over to join the fourth.
Hector took his place over the start-line, raising his arm. All Cale could see was the road ahead and Hector's arm as it dropped. All four cars took off as one, but the two Mazdas pulled ahead quickly.
Cale didn't have to fight so much for second place with anyone other than Dom at this point. She didn't waste time sparing him a glance at any point, because she knew she'd blow it if she did. She had seen him race and knew his car, probably not as well as he did, but enough to know that if she wanted to win this, she would have to play it smart.
She wished she could see his face when she dropped in behind him, giving him the lead. She drifted into his wake, watching as he glanced into his rear-view mirror at her. She imagined he was slowly working her plan out in his head and his sudden acceleration confirmed that. Can't slingshot around someone when you aren't close enough behind them now, can you?
Yes, well, Cale had no intention of losing this race, so she kicked it up a notch to stay with him. Once she was under the slipstream, she eased off a bit and let him carry her. He made her fight for it, though, as he continued to vary his speed, always mindful of preventing a crash.
The finish line was fast approaching and if there was anytime to hit the NOS now would be it. As soon as the moment came, Dom did just that, lacing his engine with the chemical and driving his ride forward. At the same instant, Cale dodged the RX-7 and hit her own trigger. She floored it as her RX-8 sped to catch up with Toretto.
The two Mazdas drew even with each other, each giving or taking half an inch at any given time. As top speeds levelled out and the finish line was crossed, the two racers were met with stunned silence.
The race had ended in a tie.
Dom skidded into a stop, perpendicular to the roadway, driver's side facing the direction from which they had come. Cale did the same, only reversed, matching the cars driver-to-driver. The two slid out and stood, staring at each other, the tongue-tied crowd keeping their distance for once.
The seconds seemed to drag out, as everyone wondered what would happen next. Dom was about to step forward, say something, even, when something sinister broke the stillness first: police sirens.
Dom and Cale didn't bother to glance around, choosing instead to get back into their cars and speed off. Dom went one way, Cale went another, and soon, she lost sight of the street-racer as they each went down a different route.
Cale had enough of a lead on the cops that she cut her lights, ducked down a sleepy neighbourhood, and picked a random driveway. As quickly and as quietly as she could, she changed the plates on her car, and added a few vinyl patches to mess up the colour scheme a bit. Soon, she was pulling out and heading back into the main streets.