Another woman walked in and sat next toAlv’swife as we watched the riders on their bikes before the colour of the screen flickered black. The noise from the speakers and outside erupted, the bikes sprinting towards the first corner.
“The firstunofficialrace of the season!”Alv’swife cheered, a huge grin on her face. “My favourite race becauseArmasis last and unlikely to win.”
The woman beside her laughed, and the noise vibrated from the pit boxes where the other teams listened. “Somehow, it’s only unlikely and not impossible with that man.”
“First corner is smooth! No rider faults from what I can see, though you all know how rare that is on a first corner when they’re all huddled together.”
“And speaking of the devil,” the other wife sighed, “Armashas overtaken — god, how many? — six on the second corner.”
“What a great start,”Alv’swife groaned. “Anyway, for those new toStormSprint, my name isCallyand this here —”
“Peggy,” the other wife jumped in. “Wife of 42. Dickson. Who just nearly wiped out 94. Prick.”
The women continued, making jabs at their partners and the other men on the circuit, all in good nature. Laughter could be heard from those listening up and down pit lane, men cackling at the commentary.
The race wasn’t a secret to the public but was rarely reported, mainly because it was considered an unprofessional risk.
But seeing all the men that had passed riding their bikes to the grid, you could feel their grins even through their helmets.
Nothing would stop them.
“Here comes NixonArmasapproaching on the side,”Callycontinued. “God, that man is fast on the straight. He’s gaining on his teammate — the best rider and man to walk the planet, or should I sayrideacross the planet — my husband,AlvaroMendes. If I recall correctly, Nix said to give a wave as he passed him. Jerk.”
I watched with bated breath as he approached, going too fast for the corner they were about to turn. The turns were wherehe had passed multiple people at a time. We’d had sixteen corners so far, and he had passed at least fourteen people, gaining onAlv.
He backed off, clearly braking hard metres behind his teammate.
Alvhad kept a steady pace, confident and controlled, but now he didn’t brake as soon as he had before.
His knee almost touched the tarmac as he turned with the track, but then the bike wobbled, swerving right and left in little movements.
“Save it!”Callycried in French, standing as the room went still. “Save it!”
But the bike continued to wobble, and then it was no longer leaning but was veering along the track, slowing right in the path of the man keen to get the fastest lap.
There was no time.
There wasn’t a second for him to change course.
One red bike smashed into the other, and plastic splintered along the tarmac. Nixon was thrown off the saddle and onto the grass. By the time the bike was offAlv, the camera angle had changed, and you could seeCally’shusband lying in the middle of the path of other riders, his helmet having gone in Nix’s direction.
Callywas screaming asCrisran out to pit lane, talking into a device. “Red flag! Fly the red flag!”
“Alv, Alv,” she cried.
The camera panned out, showing Nixon standing on the grass, cradling one of his arms as he limped back towards the track. Towards his teammate.
Alv wasn’t moving.
There were very few moments in my life that didn’t feel real.I prided myself on being practical and logical. Ready.
I wasn’t ready for this.
Cally’sshrieks were heartbreaking as she ran out towards the track, where the men had wheeled their bikes only twenty minutes before.
The mechanics held her back as Peggy pulled her into a hug.
“I have to get to him!” she shrieked. She wailed so hard, so quickly, I had to recall her words to translate them.
