The Last Lap

Gabe reached for the bottle of whisky shaking and batting away a small army of flies. A cold clammy sweat coated him. He smelled of urine and feces. He took a long chug then swapped the bottle for the headset on the coffee table in front of him.

He fumbled the small clear bag that sat beside the headset removing the small fuse like tube that housed the iridescent kaleidoscope shards that fueled the headset. Cleverly called SHARD the potent fuel had a clever acronym that slipped his mind at the moment.

He slide the small tube in the compartment near the rear of the headset and smiled to himself as it slid in with a satisfying pop. Then he slid the headset above his head and tighten the knob. There was a brief buzz then the needle like device penetrated the rear of his skull like a forceful lover.

He let out a soft groan and relished in the sensation of delight and pain that came with the devices activation. There was the sound of the shards release that sounded like a fresh soda can being snapped open. As his eyes grew heavy they found their way to the digital clock on wall, it was 9:01pm. It was the last thing he saw before his eyelids slid shut like gates and he found himself lost to blackness once more.

When Gabe finally awoke, he wiped the sleep out of his eyes, and sat up in a large luxurious bed. The satin sheets caressed his naked body, and the sweet delicious odor of fruit and flowers tickled his nose elating his senses. Looking besides him at Jocelyn his beautiful fiancé he felt euphoria and desire all wrapped in one.

He leaned in and buried his face in her long black and auburn hair, like a child snuggling a blanket fresh out the dryer. He showered her with kisses along the nape of her neck and earlobes. Every sensation felt heightened and brought him euphoria.

He lost him self savoring the woman like a last favorite meal. Tasting her everywhere, her body received him, and flowed for him like a celestial water fountain for him to drink up. Even her most forbidden parts tasted like a heavenly delicacy.

Jocelyn returned the favor and pleasured him back in a similar fashion. The two took their time going back and fourth until eventually his tongue gave way to his manhood. Every second with the beautiful woman left him experiencing a strange overwhelming out of body lucid dream feeling.

Only this was no dream, it was beyond that and every sensation felt magnified and amplified till he felt entwined with the women in the space above, as if he was looking down on their bodies, as their souls engaged in the act of love making on their own.

Jocelyn was the first to jump from the bed when their intimate deed was done. “Wow what got into you tiger! What a wake up and breakfast in bed mmmm. I guess the big race must have you all fired up hu..”

Elated and excited Gabe sat up, beads of sweat stinging his eyes as they fixated on the beauty before him. “Yes, of course today is my day. Today I claim greatness!” He swallowed down the fear inside like a bad dose of medicine, exuding only confidence in his words. Jocelyn smiled softly glancing at him with admiration and hope. “I know you’ll do it. Make me proud baby!”

The morning was a vast blur of heavenly sensations, steaming hot water, steaming hot coffee, and a pre celebratory mimosa all tickled Gabe’s sense before he found his way driving from his lavish Florida home to the Daytona Speedway.

The custom street legal Bugatti was a gift from his racing sponsors and the only non Chevy car he was allowed to drive. Aside from Jocelyn it was his prize possession.

He took the ride to the Speedway as a warm up and time to clear his mind, carving up the hot Florida roads like a Turkey on Thanksgiving. Jocelyn took a long time getting ready, and would have a car take her to the speedway later. It gave him time to relish in the soft symphony of classic music, and find a calm before the chaos.

Arriving at the Speedway under the warm Florida sun all seemed perfect. There were butterflies in his stomach, but that was to be expected. The nervous feeling telling him something was off, always came with the big races, he thought to himself, forcing the feelings of fear to the back of his mind and pressing on into the stadium.

The roar of the crowd and engines alike sent Gabe’s blood into a boiled frenzy. His heart raced with anticipation to get behind the wheel and let it all hang out. He needed to be first, there was no exception.

Mainly he needed to decimate his old friend and rival Andy in the rankings. The two had been friends through high school and beyond, but recently Andy had become a rival revealing his pompous nature and trying to take credit for Gabe coming into the sport, when in fact it was the other way around. The thought of Andy beating him turned his skin purple with rage, no he couldn’t let that happen.

He met with the mechanics and made sure his car was finely tuned, then played to the press as he was expected to, promising a decisive victory.

By that time Jocelyn had arrived. The scantly clad woman in her short clingy dress was a magnet for eyeballs, and she exuded more radiance then brightest of LED bulbs.

As he approached her his heart felt torn in two, both proud and pleased that such a beautiful woman was indeed his, yet also slightly shamed and jealous that her skin-tight outfit exposed so much of her to all the eyes at the illustrious event.

Gabe made his way to his beautiful trophy in a steady confident stride, shaking off any waning feelings of jealousy or animosity, and gave her an endearing kiss. In the limelight she pulled away sooner than usual, but it was still enough to set his heart and loins ablaze.

He gripped his helmet, and made his way to pit, prepared to provide nothing less than victory. The crowds eruption was a drug in itself, sending adrenaline coursing through him like an IV. He had already made quite a name for himself, as one of the fastest up-and-coming NASCAR drivers to hit the scene. Today he aimed to cement his legacy.

By the time he found his way into the snug interior of his Chevy Z1 his skin was damp with sweat, and his breath short as a man who had just completed a marathon. He took a long sip of water and found his way onto the raceway.

As his engine revved and the car sped off pushing him into his seat, a smile smeared its way across his face. This is what he lived for, he thought to himself as the car ripped the tarmac to top speeds of above 190.

The cacophony of roaring engines and shouting fans a symphony that delighted his ears. Blurred faces a slide show that aroused and delighted him. Fear pushed down deep to his belly, as instincts took over. Gripping the steering wheel until it felt his knuckles would burst through his skin, and pushing the pedal down so hard he thought it may break through the bottom of the car.

As the race passed its midpoint it was only himself, Andy, and John Singleton leading the pack. He had fought the urge to urinate long enough, and eventually gave way to the warm liquid as it flowed down his leg and puddled in his seat. The heat of the engine and the warmth of the urine left him feeling almost childlike wrapped in a blanket, and having an accident in bed or peeing in the community pool.

None of that mattered now, all that mattered was winning. Tires burned and screeched, and the three racers found themselves locked in a tight battle. As Andy pulled ahead, Gabe gave into the urge and bump-draft his rival in hopes to keep pace. Behind him, John evoked a similar tactic against him.

As the car pushed to 200mph and warnings came through his headset, Gabe couldn’t help fight the feeling of deja-vu. It was like he had been there before, and played out this scene in his dreams hundreds of times. Something in his gut told him to take heed, to play it safe and wait for the right moment to strike.

He clenched the wheel tighter, fighting the urge to back off. Maybe it was pre-determinism pushing him on, he thought to himself as he tightened every muscle in his body to an almost aching point, and kept the accelerator floored. It was lap 192 now, and the end of the race was near. His worst fear was manifesting, as he was second to Andy. He needed to make a move, and do it fast.

Once more he could feel his brain and heart collide in conflict, but at the next corner he felt compelled to make his move. A slingshot pass out the draft was risky, but race defining, and if timed correctly he could pass Andy and close out the race.

Part of him fought maneuver, and told him to wait but there was no choice. As he rounded the corner, he felt reflex and instinct take over. As he shot out of the draft to pass Andy his heart filled with vigor and determination. His timing seemed on point, only he didn’t anticipate John’s bump draft against him. A move that sent his car spinning.

That one hit was the worst thing that could happen to a racer, and Johns second bump ensured his fate. His car caught air, and took to the sky like a paper plane. The world fell silent, and the car flew in slow motion. It was liberating at first, experiencing the feeling of flight. Besides such and epic accident would surely make the history books, he thought to himself.

Then the car hit fence and wall. The crunching of metal sounded like some grand beast, the heat felt like flames from hell. As his vision blurred, he watched Andy shoot ahead, leaving the accident behind. Next came the pain of steel penetrating and cutting body and bone. Then darkness took over once more.

He awoke in a hospital bed. His world became a series of flashes. There was no concept of time, and suddenly he found himself drowning in a sea of tears, as the revelation that he had no sensation or ability to move his lower half struck him. His screams echoed through the hospital and the rush of nurses that answered his call could offer no remorse.

Maybe it was the drugs, but the scene played out like a slideshow. First he saw Jocelyn on TV with Andy, celebrating and congratulating him.

Then scenes of her before him in the hospital, her face cold, distant, and callous, as she explained her decision to move on and support a winner. “I’m sorry babe, but I can’t do this. I can stand by and support you through this. You’re a lame now, your career is done. I need a winner. I’ll always be here as a friend, but that’s it.” Her final words were like poisonous daggers skewing his heart, and all he could do was scream bitter and harsh words of animosity as she turned and walked out.

His world went from heaven to hell, and just as he found himself drowning in his own self-made sea of despair, he felt a firm shock to the back of his head. Like an orifice ripping from inside, the needle from the SHARD device dislodged itself.

His head ached and buzzed, as if it had taken a blow from a baseball bat. His mouth was like hot pavement, and while the pangs of hunger clawed at him, a veil of nausea fell over him. Memories slowly flooded back into his brain like an overflowing tub. How could Jocelyn leave him for Andy like that? How could his career be over with one mistake?

He glanced at his phone. It had just changed to 9:02pm. It was one year after the accident. It had only been a minute, but SHARD better known on the streets as Clock Stopper or Memory Milk played with time. That’s why it’s full name was Synthetic Hyper-Adaptive Reality Drug. Combined with VR and Nero link it manipulated time and put you in a hyper realistic state of reliving a memory. He had lived out the most influential day in his life in the course of 60 seconds.

Now he was back to his current hell. All he wanted was more SHARD. He needed to replay that day, and see what went wrong. He lifted himself into the wheelchair and glared at the empty bag on the coffee table. He grabbed his phone and clicked on his bank app. He was down to 100 credits, not even enough for an hour replay. He glared around the empty apartment, and saw the keys hanging by the door and knew what he had to do.

His body grew tense, and he wasn’t sure if the urge to vomit came from the SHARD trip or what he was about to do. Either way, it was too late. Maybe it was predetermined, but moments later he had Johnny Singleton on the line.

“Hey Johnny… I wanted to ask a favor… You know my custom Bugatti.” There was a silence before Johnny hesitantly replied. “Yea.. What about it?” Gabe swallowed the lump in his throat, as a tear fell down his soiled and stained shirt. “Well do you wanna buy it?” Again there was silence.

“Fuck man your just going to spend it all on more of that shit. Come on man, you gotta get clean. I’m not down.” Johnny’s voice was loud and authoritative, as if speaking to a child, but Gabe stood cool and collected knowing Johnny wouldn’t refuse his offer.

“Don’t worry about that man, I’ll get clean when the times right, but you didn’t let me finish my offer. You can come pick it up now for a million credits, and a thousands credits worth of Clock Stopper. I mean Andy would be all over this but I’ll be damned, I rather you have it.”

There was a long silence before Johnny replied. “Ok, I guess, but for God’s sake brother, you gotta promise you’ll get clean. Things will get better.” Johnny’s voice was broken, having given into temptation. Gabe smiled through his tears. “Sure man of course I will, just hurry before I change my mind. I just need one more trip back and everything will be fine.”