I’d Be There Soon

I did it again.

I won another race.

I was a professional.

Street racing was my life.

The mayor loved street racing so much, he made racing legal, as long as it was on the new freeway he built just for races.

And everybody had to wear a seatbelt.

I’d be there soon, at the final finish line.

The last race of the week was in an hour. Everyone would know my name. I’d be a race car hero.

****

It was six AM. Time for another race. Today was the last race until next Friday. The winner would be rewarded with a statue.

I got in my car. I buckled up. I revved my engine. The flag girl let down the flag. I sped off.

I weaved in and out of traffic. My crew followed right behind me, in case I needed repairs.

I bumped into another race car, knocking him off the road. I got ahead of the other six cars, my nitrous tank giving my twelve cylinder twin turbo charged engine the boost it needed.

I was ahead. I floored the gas peddle. The helicopter flying above me recording my every movement.

To add to the challenge, someone in the helicopter threw spike strips I had to dodge.

I drove around them with ease, nothing my Pagani Zonda Cinque couldn’t handle. She drove like the wind.

The next challenge was flames bursting out of the street and projectiles shooting out of the freeway walls.

I dodged those too, my reaction time being impecable.

Pulling up next to me was a McLaren F1.

I rolled down my window and tossed a brick through his.

He swerved into a wall and his car burst into flames.

The other driver would be ok as long as he wore his flame proof suit. If he didn’t, not my fault or my problem.

The mayor had actual children run out in the freeway. It scared the hell out of me the first few times, but you get used to hitting them eventually.

They have rubber suits on and just bounce right off your car and into the next racers car. Most of them survive. The ones that don’t have life insurance.

I don’t know what kind of parents would sign the release form for this, but it’s all part of the fun.

Besides, not my kids, not my problem.

I was almost there. I was almost at the end of the track. The statue in my honor would be mine.

I could see the bubbling lava coming out of the hole. If I was the first one to drive in and melt, they’d not only build the statue in my honor, a one hundred million dollar jackpot would go to my son.

I stayed in a straight line, going faster. The last racer bumped me with his Lotus from behind.

We both spun out. We landed in the lava at the same time. A tie.

There’d now be two statues for us.