The Abandoned Tales

“Drive west to the Lone Stallion Ranch, the clock is ticking,” DJ Atomica’s voice excitedly commanded. A cakewalk, it’s only 2 miles down the road, the person behind the wheel of a Hunter Citizen thought. He’d been through challenges like this countless times, barreling down either side of the road with utter disregard for streetlights, innocent motorists, and billboards. It was a good life.

He didn’t mean to be such a reckless soul, it was just…

These damn cars! They’re so hard to control!

The certified joyrider decided to take the easy route. This included hitting a small-yet-steep ramp over a long, narrow block of median asphalt and making a clean landing. Three times. Things went smoothly, as they were hoped to be, but the Driver wasn’t out of the woods yet.

Coming off of the bridge, the final, unforgiving turn had to be made. You’d think bearing left after all this guy’s done so far would be simple, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. After boosting the entire length of the bridge, you’re hitting absolutely insane speeds even after running out of the stuff.

The Driver’s tactics were rusty, and more destined to fail than shooting an 1860’s-era Derringer pistol. Hit the emergency brake and turning to quickly slow down. This failed to work for several reasons. Firstly, he had hardly any road left to perform this maneuver. Secondly, he was still going much too fast. Thirdly, he was repositioning himself about 25 degrees in a car that can’t turn worth shit.

And with these bleak conditions, time began to slow down.

No, no, no, no…can’t do it can’t do it can’t do it…

Rubber and pavement, you’d think it would be a great idea to make an automobile. Except when it’s dragging two tons of metal in a direction it can’t roll.

Somewhere, the Driver swore he could hear the echoes of some teenager screaming “FUUUUUUUUU-,” but he wasn’t sure.

He braced for impact…

100 yards…

75 yards…

50 yards…

25…

10…

5…

Time slowed down.

***

Steam escaping the dead engine. A few birds chirping. The morning sun warming the surrounding air.  Black fading to normal vision. And one hell of a migraine.

There are some tricks you just can’t pull off…

But wait, for once, the Driver wasn’t thinking this…he really said it!

“I’ve always been mute…how bad was that crash?”

He began to unbuckle himself from the seat, struggling in his dazed state to pull the latch.