Chapter 300: The Fast And The Furious, Part 3

"FOUL!" 

I heard that one word from all around me. 

"Foul, foul, foul!" 

Three more times in a shout enraged, in a cry deafening, like a giant intangible violent hurricane given a voice... and a mic. 

"Yellow card, red card, all the cards! You're foul and fouled, you foul-ers!"

Somehow there's always a mic.

"What in the fuck was that?!" Tyler the static-filled tornado continued to shout. "What in the - Sixth place, fuck's wrong with you people?! You could have killed him, what the hell?! That settles it, you guys are out! You hear me - OUT! O-W-T, out! So long, you murderers!" 

There was a swelling soreness pulsating in one of my cheeks, an aching pounding in my head. My eyes were open, but it felt like it wasn't. All around, roads, buildings, all was a blur, everything looked as if it was rotating on a swivel, and just in case life thought I wasn't already disorientated enough, I also fell a poor victim to double-sighted vision.

Things looked bad for me, things certainly felt bad, but I knew things could have been way, way worse. When Bob dropped those buckets... if I hadn't slowed, if I hadn't veered the slightest left for that one single fraction of a second - yeah, I still lost control, yeah, I still spun out, and yes, I nearly cracked my skull open careening into the side of a building  - but regardless, it was still a far better outcome than I could have ever hoped for. At the very least, it was a better fate than being toppled all the way over on my side.

"WHAT?!" Tyler, again, ever the crowing ear-grating rooster to snap you back to your senses, shouted out once more. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY'RE NOT OUT?! THEY JUST ATTACKED THE DRIVER!"

Aches, sores, they all just suddenly went away - and taking its place came the implosion of shock traveling throughout every vein in my body. 

Bob's not out? After the stunt he just pulled too? He very nearly turned my yesterday's lunch into today's sidewalk special, I'm with Tyler here - fuck you mean they're not out?

Amidst the speaker crackle of silent static, I could pick up some hush murmurs, unintelligible fast mutters that made me long for a new pair of ears, particularly ones more on the long and narrow... luckily, Tyler didn't have the same issue as I. Tyler could hear just fine, but what he was hearing, turns out, wasn't exactly as fine.

"DIDN'T BREAK ANY RULES?!" The Hurricane swirled even more intensely. "MY FUCKIN' ASS THEY DIDN'T! WHA -? YOU'RE ALL REALLY GONNA LET THIS SLIDE? FOR REAL NOW? SERIOUS?"

Silence again. Not even any whispers, nothing... nothing but the ambient hum of static, only to then be broken by Tyler once again shortly after, his tone, his voice, like a hurricane instantly dissipated.

"Alright, sure, whatever you say then, judges' call..." He sounded apologetic, he sounded bitter, but more than any other, he sounded like he was addressing me directly. "Right, where was I? 'Kay - ahem - so let's go over and have a look at eighth place here! Yep, they seem to be catching up quick! Just entered the red-light district! Seventh place better get a move on right now if he doesn't wanna lose it!"

That was my cue to get a move on, and I wasn't about to miss it. The crash had soared my horse's angsty level to the point where she was flailing her head, and throwing her silver mane all over the place... in time, through light pats and soft strokes, I managed to get her to calm down... at least enough to get her moving again.

Slowly at first, but with a little encouragement and some words of assurance, it wasn't long before her hooves began to soar once more, the sharp whistle of the wind breezing past our faces.

"Yeah, yeah, that's my homeboy!" Tyler cheered out, a bias plain for all to see. "You want revenge? I know you do! Fuckers' are close in front of you! Keep going!" 

Wasn't about to object to having the announcer himself feeding me intel on people's whereabouts. I'll take everything I get. 

"Oh, what's that? I'm not allowed to say that, am I?" Tyler asked, the echo of his inflection dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, show me where in the rulebook it says that then I'll shut the fuck up. In the meantime - Big Man! The eight place peeps are closing in on you, dude! Step it up a notch, you're too slow!"

Yeah, I know that already! My trusty steed was pushing herself as fast, and as far as she could go. By all accounts, this should be our fastest speed, but I just know that it wasn't. Turning too... every corner I steered us into felt wide, heavy... like before, now, she was struggling, I was struggling...

Something's wrong.

"Big Man!" I heard Tyler shout in a speaker so close by, his words ringing more urgently than ever. "They're closing in! Eighth place! They're about to throw red at ya! Watch out!"

I didn't even get to hear him finish before I started hearing the rumble, feeling the quake - like a thumping in my chest, sounding louder, beating harder - I immediately spun around, finding so dangerously near, the stamping of another's hooves reaching too close. 

These people here I didn't quite recognize, but they sure as shit knew who I was. We exchanged brief glances at one another, the driver up front had a gleeful sneer on his face, while her defender, an opened paint bucket gripped in both hands, looked anytime about ready to paint the town, including I, red.

They just needed to get a little closer.

They were getting that little bit closer.

Why won't my carriage go any faster?!

"WATCH OUT!"

The sharp speaker screech, the flicker of movement right then, or just the mere sight of that red paint swaying, any and all could have been the justified reason why I did what I did.

Almost like an impulse, I forcefully wrench back on the reins. I saw arms fly, heard my horse's cry, and I shut my eyes tight, bracing, teeth gritted, for the wet, gloopy impact.

But instead, I got the answer to my question in that same very instance. It was like the clap of thunder, that sound I heard, it was just as instantaneous too, and just as tumultuous. My eyes flung wide open in time to see that I was safe for one second, but even more in danger the next.

Suddenly, I felt myself leaning a hard left, falling a hard left - and my carriage was falling with me, everything was falling with me - paint buckets in the air, Eshwlyn, Riona - I saw them all fly.

A loud crash, a hard jump, and then out from the slightest corner of my eye, there was one of the wheels of my carriage, doing as any wheel should, which is to spin and spin forevermore.

Only wished it wasn't spinning itself away from me. 

One of my wheels came loose, one of my wheels rolled away astray, gradually coming to a full stop, laying flat onto the road after an unsteady wobble once or twice.

As did the rest of my carriage. Wearily creaking, it laid tilting forever left, slumped in an angle just like a wounded animal. Looking ahead, Eighth place had already left me far behind the dust - briefly, they looked back, their eyes in awe at their stupendous luck… and my unparalleled misfortune.

I could hear Tyler from above, from the right, from everywhere else, croaking weakly into the mic, it almost sounded like the speakers finally broke. 

"I… uh… umm…" He sounded reluctant, he sounded hesitant. I suppose the best way to put it - Tyler didn't sound like Tyler. "Big… Man's carriage has popped a tire. His… his cargo has fallen off. His weapons are gone… um… and he's stuck. Eighth place now."

Somehow hearing it was a whole lot more believable a prospect than actually seeing it firsthand, than actually being the one there myself. Once again, I felt the soreness, the throbbings, the poundings in my aches. 

My horse expelled a husky dispirited grunt.

Whose fault was this? 

Bob's? He dropped the bucket, it hit the wheels… he spun me out, he must have knocked one of them loose. Yeah, it must be him. He did this. Or… or did he?

I didn't bother checking for any damages. I went ahead and kept forging on like a dumbass who thought himself invincible. I was the one that decided this, I was the one who pulled those reins back.

Mine?

"Erm," Tyler kept his voice low as if he was trying to keep things on the private despite being broadcasted all over. "Um, I see we have ninth place coming up on eighth. Seems like they'll get there soon enough. Eighth place better do something."

Do something.

I remember those words. Those were Nick's, those were his, those spiteful bitter words from before. Coming from Tyler, all a sudden those words were sounding much, much different. 

The crowing rooster snapped me back to my senses.

I hopped off the broken carriage, feeling the sole of my boots hit the pavement hard, firm. The outcome hasn't changed just yet, despite everything, I'm still standing, aren't I?

Yet to be toppled.

"Oh-Woah-Woah, what's this?" 

Tyler's face was easy to imagine with how bemused he sounded not that I could blame him, that is. 

I took a couple of steps forward, eyeing my trusty steed who looked back at me with a glance curious and uneased… unease that I subsided with a few pats to her neck, soft scratches around her ears, slowly inching myself closer and closer.

"Sorry for putting you through so much," I whispered, grazing one hand lightly across her face. "Barely even know me, yet you've been nothing but good to me." 

She gave a snort, then gently pushed her head against my chest.

"Forgiven, huh?" I smiled at her, lifting her jaw and meeting both her gleaming green eyes. "Then you don't mind working with me for a bit more?"

A mighty neigh loud and proud with her held up high. 

That's a yes, then.

At once, both hands swiftly put to motion, I began detaching the harness that was keeping her latch onto the carriage. I did the left first, then I went around and uncoupled the right.

Not a moment after, I heaved in a heavy breath, sounded out a tight grunt - and with a sharp exhale, found myself taking a hold of her reins only on a more personal, physical level.

"He mounted the horse!" The speakers crackled to life, reemerging back with a fervor once thought lost. "Ahh, judges? Say - oh, you better say that's allowed right now! You better say he can do that otherwise I'm gonna shove this mic up all your as - huh? it's allowed? FUCK YES, LET'S GO, BABY! THAT'S WHAT WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR! THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT! WHOOO!"

"Alright, let's go," I proclaimed, turning us right around to retrieve our once lost cargo. 

Yes, this felt so much better. Every clop of her hooves, every shift of her balance, I could feel them all like it was my own. This felt just like home.

Now I'm ready to race.

"Hey, how about a name?" I suggested aloud. "You can't be Ash, sadly. The name's taken. Umm, how does Lyn sound? You like Lyn?"

She gave a whinny, and lifted her head, tossing her silver mane so freely.

That's another yes, then.

"Okay then, Lyn," I picked up my cargo that laid limp in the streets, brushed the grime away, blew the dirt, and placed them both in front of me, fastened securely beneath an arm. "Let's go win us some princesses."