“Every car’s fitted with two small cameras. One showing the driver, the other showing the road. See?” He angles his screen at me. “The race is streamed on this secret channel. The multiscreen thing means you can watch along with a specific driver, or just let it run random.”
I’m impressed. “Wow. That’s hard-core. How long have you been doing this?”
“One of the ex-football guys got me into it last year.”
I glance at him. “Don’t you freak out that you’re gonna get caught?”
“Hey, I’m only watching.” He shrugs.
I watch him scroll through the options.
“Get ready for this, Conley. It’ll be over in a flash. Three laps andthey’re done, and with cars like that, I’m telling you—literally, blink and you’ll miss it.”
“Is there a favorite?”
“The Aston Martin.” He nods, flashing me his screen again. “But the Dodge Super Bee isn’t a bad call, either. It’ll be close.”
“Wait a minute—there’s a Dodge?” I laugh. “Well, you know who I’m backing!”
A second later, and they’re off. Honestly, the footage flashes by so fast I can hardly follow what’s going on, so I focus on the road, leaning in as the rumble gets louder and louder, my heart hammering in my chest with every throb. I’m not a speed freak or anything, but seeing rides like these go head-to-head is something else.
My eyes dart back and forth over the makeshift track. Some of the sections are pretty steep. Put that together with the snowfall, and you’ve got a total showstopper. A wave of exhilaration hits me in the chest, and I clap my hands excitedly.
Dwayne gasps. “Shit, here they come!”
The distant thrumming’s getting louder and louder, and just as I blink, the first two cars go zipping past us, followed by a third, then a fourth, all streaking through the night in a blur.
“Fuck!”
“That Audi took that corner way too tight, it’s gonna—”
Dwayne doesn’t even have time to get the sentence out. The Audi goes skidding off the road, tumbling through the snow at the bottom of the hill. This is serious shit, but nobody seems surprised. The driver is already peeling himself out of the car, throwing punches into the wind, and I can tell from here just how pissed he is.
“The Dodge is winning!” I crow, only for my friend to cut me short.
“Take it easy, Lewis. That was only the first lap. It’s still anyone’s race.”
I turn back to the screen. A second car has just gone flying off the road. When I feel the ground rumbling under my feet this nexttime, I lean in for a better look, determined not to miss a second of the action, and as the Dodge takes the turn smooth as ice, I’m ecstatic.
“Still winning!”
“Come on, baby!” Dwayne yells at the Aston Martin. “Come on! Last lap, you got this!”
I glance at him. He’s hooked, and I’m not gonna lie—I totally get it.
“What’s the prize?” I holler over the roar.
“Money! There’s a shitload of bets on these races. Depending on the turnout, you can make a pile of cash.” He turns back to the track, frowning into his phone, his eyes darting between the screen and the finish line. “Fucking step on it!”
The cars are thundering through the night, the Dodge surging out of the darkness, and just when I’m thinking it’s game over, the Aston pulls an insane move in the final bend, cutting the corner and swinging into the home stretch as the driver slams on the brakes, sending the car skidding so sharp it teeters toward the ravine. My breath catches in my throat. The Dodge drops back, its driver caught off guard, the Aston kicking up a cloud of snow before swinging back and gunning it. A hand snakes out the window to wave a middle finger just as the car goes streaming past us, and before I know it, the Aston is over the finish line, the brakes being slammed on, and the crowd goes nuts, chanting words I can’t make out.
Wow. That was insane!
“Fuck yes!” Dwayne pumps the air. “That’s my girl!”
“Hey, it’s not all about the car, man. That dude candrive.”
He mutters something before racing down the hill, and there’s nothing for it but for me to follow. We pick our way down to the Aston, and as we draw closer, I finally get what the fans are screaming.
