LEG EIGHT: RACING INTO THE SUNSET
St. Lucia is a quiet city. Touristy, but not overly so. On the ocean, but not prone to fierce storms. Most towns in Larryia love it when the Road Racers blast through. St. Lucia can't wait for it to be over. The sooner the racers zip through the town, get onto the Lucia Narrows Bridge (longest suspension bridge in the world) and off the South Island entirely, the happier the people in St. Lucia are.
Krazy Red Karver doesn't give a damn what makes the people in St. Lucia happy. There's not much he gives a damn about right now at all. His purple Camaro roars into the sleepy town, narrowly missing other cars and occasional pedestrians. Linda protests loudly and incessantly. Karver doesn't respond, except for an occasional mean-spirited laugh when she gets lively enough.
Toomblee's Silver Bullet isn't too far behind the road-raging Karver. She would like to pass him, of course, but senses that now is still not the time. Lots of anger. Lots of bad magic. She keeps her distance from the old Camaro, but the madman DOES clear a wonderful path. She zips through the empty streets he inevitably leaves behind, happy at the absence of obstacles.
Behind her, Lynn Cutter is doing precisely the same thing, edging a little closer to the Silver Bullet. The little cat toy on her dashboard starts to squawk though, giving warning.
"Police are chasing somebody, coming in from the west side of town. Looks like they'll hit the bridge the same time everyone else does."
Forewarned, the Larryian cowgirl starts watching sideroads, alert to danger. She has a feeling that the racers behind her aren't so well informed. Might be a good time to lose them.
The Murdermobile chases Cutter's taillights around sharp St. Lucia corners, over slight hills, down a tree-lined boulevard. Clarissa is less focused than she was on Kell's Vektor a few miles back, but she's got her eyes locked on the 1980 Camaro ahead of her. Nero is still grinning at her.
About thirty seconds behind the Murdermobile is St. Lucia's worst nightmare. Dietrich Kell, Laura Blair, Duncan Hawke, Lena van Der Prutt and Prince George von Brightonburg are roaring in, tangled up in a knot none have managed to unravel yet. The gaggle of heavy-horsepower cars swing and block and bump all over the highway. Civilian traffic dodges this way and that. A few go off the road when hasty evasions prove impossible.
Normally, Wade Gree might be in trouble in St. Lucia. The mega-booster for his car's stereo system violated several St. Lucia city ordinances. Right now, of course, his thumping hip-hop...he hasn't fiddled with the CD changer, finding that the music sort of fits this car...is the least of the sleepy town's worries. He watches the wad of cars up ahead contend for position and chuckles to himself.
Karver zips through town with little trouble. He's out in front, with no one save the weird little Ponkapaugi critter close enough to bother him. The purple Camaro loses some of it's bullet-like speed as he negotiates a few street corners, travels up, then down the little hills that add to St. Lucia's postcard charm. He doesn't slow down enough to suit Linda.
"Is this race all you care about?!?" She demands. "Why won't you TALK to me?"
Karver snarls, and pulls onto the Lucia Narrows bridge, over a mile of straight road, and punches the accelerator. Hard G-forces press Karver, his wife, back into their seats. Linda falls silent.
Toomblee isn't too far behind the racing Camaro. The Silver Bullet pulls eases onto the bridge. Ahead of her, Karver's purple ride bulls people out of the way, sideswipes a van from the local Civics Center, and leaves the Kobald an utterly unimpeded path. She giggles and bounces as her racer accerlerates. The madman certainly cleared a wonderful path!
Cutter can see the Ponkapaugi's little car zip onto the bridge, but even over the roaring of her engine, she can hear sirens. She pushes her Camaro past it's 'cruising speed'. Behind her the Murdermobile does the same.
Clarissa and Nero can hear the sirens too. The bridge spires loom ahead. The redhead gives up on passing Cutter for now, keeping an eye out for whatever is headed their way. So does Nero.
"There." The Goth says, pointing. Several roads lead to the bridge, and coming down one is an entire wolf pack of blue-striped St. Lucian police cars, lights flashing, sirens blaring. There's still a few moments before the constabulary reaches the bridge ramp. Cutter and the Murdermobile both take advantage, zipping onto the mighty span just ahead of the pursuit train.
The posse of competing racers not far behind them isn't so lucky. Dietrick Kell is the first to sight the wolf pack of approaching police. He hits the gas, trying to beat them onto the bridge. Laura Blair, running alongside this and unable to see the cops, figures this is another attempt to leave her behind and edges the Vektor over, not quite trying to run Kell off the road. This also prevents Hawke, Van der Prutt, or Brightonburg from zipping past them and onto the bridge. The police cars and the five racers merge violently, vehicles swerving and tires squealing. Ahead of the mess, the wildly painted Subaru the Police are chasing accelerates, pulling away from lawmen and racers alike.
Wade Gree is faced with a wall of cars, some with flashing lights, some with 'exempt from traffic laws for the duration' race tags. He can't get past them, he notes, as they're veering all over the six lanes of the massive bridge. He waits, keeps pace.
Krazy Red Karver, on the other hand, is building his lead. He's crossed the mile-long-or-more bridge in around thirty seconds. He zooms off the other end of the span, through Saveall's Rest, the smaller sister town to St. Lucia. His lead grows.
Toomblee is having trouble keeping up with the Larryian, but she's doing her best. Cutter isn't far behind the Kobald. They exit the bridge only a few seconds ahead of the Murdermobile, which is steadily gaining on Cutter's Camaro.
Dietrich Kell is swearing and yelling. It's understandable. His plans have been upset. The Lucian Straights bridge is a mile long and straight. He'd planned on using it to pull away from his competitors, to accelerate up to something close to what his car is capable of. The police are impeding him.
His eyes note, suddenly, the bridge's wide 'breakdown' lane. Wild Arse shortcuts seem to be working for everyone else, they can work for him. He veers into the lane and accelerates, pulling alongside, then ahead, of the howling police cars. He almost clips a car that'd pulled over to the let the emergency vehicle's by, but that too gives him an idea. Cars were pulling over for the cops, which meant they might as well be pulling over for him. The low-slung supercar roars, picks up speed, as her driver laughs.
Duncan Hawke and Lena van der Prutt exchange a glance. There's more than an agreement on tactics in the smoldering stare, but both get the message anyway. They have to wait. Plenty of civilian cars are in the breakdown lane now, but there's finally the glimmer of a chance. The DB9 and the XK repeat Kell's manuever, accelerating in an effort to catch the Kieric and his supercar.
Laura Blair tries to follow them, but the St. Lucian police are irritated now. A white-and blue prowl car blocks her, and suddenly the cops devote two cars toward sealing off the breakdown lane. It doesn't help them catch the Subaru they were chasing, and is the primary reason for a week-long rash of vandalism directed at the department, for in Larryia, interfering with the race is a serious faux pas, but it does make them feel better for a moment. Blair curses the cops and their mothers.
Behind her, Brightonburg is more circumspect. If impeding a couple of cars helped them catch the outlaw, so be it.
Gree, who's situation hasn't changed due to the cops, doesn't really care.
Karver, meanwhile, is doing something no one has managed to do, save Hawke the day before: Grabbing distance and expanding his lead. He can see Toomblee and Cutter in the rear-view mirror, but they're shrinking. He passes out of Saveall Heights, and the road starts to incline a bit. It's hill country for the rest of the leg.
"Don't you even want to know who it was?" His wife demands.
For the first time since her dramatic revelation, Krazy Red Karver looks at his wife. His teeth are bared in a sadistic grin.
"Sure." He says.
Toomblee notes the madman drawing further away. She'd have to catch up. Not now. Later, the race passed into the mountains. She'd be in the best possible territory then. She'd be faster. Already, the road is begining to undulate, up a hill, down a smaller one.
Cutter is more worried about the car behind her than the ones in front. The big, black Bel-Air is close on her bumper now. She can see the redhead driving it clearly enough to note the blue eyes and glasses. Cutter's mouth quirks slightly. Kinda hot, that little redhead. She blocks as the Murdermobile tries to slip by on the inside of a curve, pulls away, slightly, as the two Chevy's roar up a hill.
Murdermobile and Camaro top the crest of the hill. The downhill run isn't as steep, and not terribly long. The big Gothwagon accelerates, with surprising ease.
"We got the weight advantage! Go!" Nero shouts. Clarissa stomps on the pedal, turns slightly. The Murder pulls alongside the Camaro despite Cutter's attempts to block. There's not much downhill left. Still, cowgirl and co-ed match gazes for a moment.
"Something really familiar about that woman..." Clarissa muses.
"Pass her!"
Clarissa blinks, her concentration back on the road. Inches by inches, the Murdermobile pulls ahead of the Camaro, completing the pass just as the road becomes level, then uphill once again.
Kell is off the bridge, drawing well ahead of his nearest competitor. He sees a car up ahead. Though for a moment he thinks it's a racer, the shape is wrong, and so is the distance...the ones ahead of him have more of a lead. It's the Subaru the police were chasing, he realizes.
The Subaru doesn't slow down, but the Vektor is moving at an impressive clip. He draws alongside soon enough. The Kieric can't help but notice the blue paint job, the 'xTI' logo on the front bumper, and the fanciful jungle scene, complete with leaping Jaguar, airbrushed down the side.
The Kieric chuckles. The Subaru's driver turns his head. His expression, concealed by blue tinted glass, is unreadable.
There's a flash of motion from a side road, a howl of sirens. The Subaru veers off onto another road, a Chevy Corvette in police colors with 'Interceptor' written across the back in hot, close pursuit. Kell notes that the Subaru's license plate reads 'DACZAR', and that Duncan Hawke's Aston Martin is coming up fast from astern.
The Devon's Islander has a welcome tug in his belly. He's back in the groove, and if he can pass Kell, he can move back towards the lead. His deep-green DB9 is on the Vektor in a heartbeat, but the Kieric isn't an easy mark. The black car slides across the road and back again, cutting off the naval commander's attempts to pass. They don't bump and scrape like the Larryian drivers. Their mutual school of racing is a less physical one, more akin to fencing than hacking at someone with a battle axe. For a few, too-brief moments, both drivers feel at home.
Duchess van Der Prutt isn't a fencer. She was close enough to see Hawke move up on Kell, but she doesn't pursue. She turns, heading onto the same side-road the Subaru had ducked down, and accelerates. The road isn't gravel, but it's got a gentler incline and cuts off the main highway not far ahead. She grins. Above her, to the left, she can see glimpses of Kell's Vektor, Hawke's DB9. The road begins to curve upward...not far now...
Prutt blasts onto the highway close enough to Kell that the Kieric is forced to swerve to avoid her. His tires taste gravel, and with a sudden grip of fear, the Kieric driver realizes his car is spinning. He turns opposite the spin, let's the car do what it wants. When the violence of the motion has reduced and the hood pointed the right way, he gives it some gas. The Vektor slides, almost effortlessly, back onto the highway. He's lost speed though, and can't keep Hawke from slipping by.
The Kieric snarls and pursues.
The herd of police cars chasing the Subaru isn't giving up, but word that the Regional PD is on their quarry's tail means they're not directly chasing anymore. As they zip down the highway, still doing their best to impede Blair, Brightonburg, and Gree, they get the word to disperse to cover avenues of escape and such. The posse begins to disperse.
Laura Blair hits the gas, but she's badly placed to get by quickly, and long seconds pass before she can scoot by the cops. Brightonburg is in a similar situation.
Wade Gree is not, and more importantly, no one's really noticed him. The Supra leaps forward, cuts past a police car that had been intent on blocking Blair but which hadn't paid much mind to the rice-burning street racer, and begins to accelerate away from the cops and the other racers.
Blair sees the Wellutrian's sudden charge, and finally bulls her way past an uncooperative cop. The Charger roars, the tone changing with each rapid shift of gears, and soon the midnight blue muscle car is even with Gree's wildly painted tuner. Blair tries to pass, but the Wellutrian slides into her lane, edging her over. She gives up the attempt only to make another, which Gree blocks with more uncharacteristic aggression.
Gree smiles with satisfaction. He might not be getting many moments, but he knows how to capitalize when he does get them.
The Charger and the Supra weave and duck, looking for an advantage as Brightonburg's tiny racer advances on them. The Prince shakes his head at his ill fortune, but knows he's only a long sprint away from his previous top five standing. He looks for a good chance to slip by Gree and Blair. Soon he might very well be challenging the leaders. He wonders idly who's in first at the moment.
"The Prince." Linda Karver confesses. "I slept with Prince Brightonburg."
Krazy Red Karver looks back toward the road. There's homicide behind his smile.
The racer's tear into Norlan Heights, the next checkpoint, near sunset.
CURRENT POSITIONS
Krazy Red Karver is in 1st place, and strengthening his lead! Can raw skill maintain what road rage has given him after the layover? Only time will tell.
Toomblee and Clarissa and Nero are tied for 2nd!
Lynn Cutter is in 3rd place, probably noting that Toomblee's car might fit in the Murdermobile's trunk.
Lena van Der Prutt and Duncan Hawke are exchanging smoldering glances while tied for 4th place, while in 5th place, Kell rolls his eyes at them.
Laura Blair and Wade Gree are tied for 6th! Will the Wellutrian hold onto his looked-for advance, or will the hot-tempered Larryian run him off the road?
Prince Brightonburg is in 7th, and though unaware of the potential trouble he's in, should likely be thanking his lucky stars he's not in 2nd.
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Hope the cameo was enjoyed.
