call_me_chas (call_me_chas) wrote in morningstar_mnr, @ 2009-06-21 22:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | car, chas, deacon, jimmy, max, npc |
On to LA
Langham was outraged. Davis deserved everything he got for being stupid enough to have tackled Ferrell.
The original plan was that Davis was to have crippled the co-driver, hopefully badly enough that Ferrell would pull out of the race. Since the little fag stayed in company all night long, Davis was supposed to have made sure that Ferrell wouldn't have been driving anywhere.
A broken arm or leg would have done it, but no the stupid son of a bitch had gone for a kill and now Langham was left to finish the race on his own.
Luckily they had done their homework and he had found his way onto the old road that paralleled the freeway and, at that time of the morning at least, he could really open up and DRIVE.
But he kept checking his mirror - those two black guys in the Nissan were too close for comfort but there was no sign of Ferrell. Maybe Davis had done some damage after all?
Not damage, not to his body, but in Charlie's opinion Deacon's pride might have been hurt by Davis and Langham's assumption that he'd be brought down so easily. That could be why Deacon had elected to win the race the hard way, by taking a murderous short cut through a series of industrial areas. No normal car could have taken those rough narrow roads, but Car with her hard suspension and roaring engine powered over potholes and gravel, taking a straight route where both clogged freeway and the old road made curves.
Charlie braced himself in his seat, eyes flicking back and forth between the screen of Deacon's iPhone and the road and called out the turns and spotted hazards.
Things were about to get interesting. They were all well in city limits now and soon would have no choice but to get on the main roads for a bit to get to their destination. Of course no one wanted the cops following them to the finish line so it was well off in a warehouse district. The shortest route there took you straight through a fairly busy section of town. And it was coming up on this section that brought all three racers back together.
Langham felt sure he was going to win. The Nissan wasn't too far behind but its exhaust was dark and thick and that was fine. But his good mood was shattered when a black Challenger shot out from between two buildings up ahead and took the lead.
"Fuck," he screamed and floored it. The Lamborghini's engine scremed as he threw the car into a gap between the cab in front and a cargo van. He squeaked through, not even wincing at the shudder of the car as he left a smear of paint on the van's bumper. The Challenger was two cars ahead. Langham gritted his teeth, cut across in front of the cab and forced a way up the inside, sending a cyclist tumbling.
Deacon looked in his mirror when he heard several horns honk and swore. "He's gonna bring the cops down on us," he growled, and pushed Car faster, dodging in and out of traffic. "Find the quickest way to get off this main road before we're all fucked."
"Errrmmmmm," Charlie murmured, "Yes! Take a right at the next intersection then first left. You'll have to drive like blazes, but with any luck the cops will be after that stupid bas- look out here he comes!"
The nose of the Lamborghini appeared level with the passenger side rear wheel.
"Sorry, baby," Deacon murmured to the car then jerked the steering wheel to the right, purposefully hitting the Lamborghini and making Langham swerve, nearly running to a parked car on the side of the road.
The Challenger sped ahead, the Lamborghini close on its tail once again, neither driver noticing that the Nissan had finally given up the ghost as the car started spouting steam, the radiator having given out. Deacon took the turn Charlie had indicated, skidding around the corner followed closely by Langham. The next turn was taken even sharper and Deacon shifted gears quickly, keeping Car under control and wasting no time shooting ahead again - while Langham tried to steady his own car.
Here they were back in the less populated streets and flying all out down alleys and through warehouses, sometimes Langham and sometimes Deacon in the lead. But as they shot out from the tighter streets and into a wider area behind the warehouses both cars were neck and neck and the finish line was in sight.
The Lamborghini was pulling ahead and Charlie was bouncing in his seat anxiously. "D! The Nitrous!"
"Not yet," Deacon said, eyes darting from Langham to the finish line and back. "Not yet...."
There was the tale tell glisten of water on the road coming up quickly and just as the Lamborghini hit it Deacon slammed Car into its side again, causing the vehicle to skid and hydroplane for a moment. But a moment was all Deacon needed and hit the Nitrous button, Car shooting forward and slamming Deacon and Charlie back in their seats as they rocketed ahead and across the finish line.
Charlie's shriek of triumph was echoed, did they but know it, by Langham's squall of fury. He howled again, hammering his fists on the steering wheel and causing the car the fishtail wildly as it crossed the line, the whoops and cheers of the spectators, some of whom had flown from Miami in order to be there, bitter to his ears.
Car skidded to a stop as well and Deacon punched the air in triumph then leaned over and kissed Charlie soundly before stroking the steering wheel and murmuring praise to the car.
Among the spectators stood Jimmy and Max, neither shouting or cheering but pleased none the less. Max lead the way towards the Challenger but paused near the Lamborghini and bent, peering into the window at it's driver.
"Such a shame," he said to Langham and made a tsk tsk sound before continuing on towards Deacon to congratulate him.
Deacon and Charlie were already out of the car, the organisers drawing them across the tarmac to the very informal winners celebration, much of which, to Charlie's amusement, consisted of being cuddled and kissed by various pneumatic blondes while a couple of journalists from online street racing mags blurted questions at them and waved microphones. There were no cameras visible, which was a relief.
It was also a relief to see the little red Nissan limp into the parking lot, the driver and co-driver looking disappointed but grinning at the welcome they got. Charlie waved, beckoning, but then he heard a gravelly London accent and his smile fled.
"Well, well, look 'oo's of the 'ook," Jimmy said with a smirk and glanced at Max. "Or are they? Whaddaya say, boss?"
Deacon turned as well and held Max's gaze.
"The deal was I win. Well we did," he said.
"Yes. You did," Max replied, looking at Charlie for a moment then back to Deacon. "And I never go back on a deal."
He held his hand out and Deacon took it and they shook.
Charlie's mouth opened but nothing came out for a moment. Which was a blessing because he felt quite nauseous with relief. Jimmy's smile broadened and he drew breath to comment about the green look on Charlie's face, then remembered that the last time he had poked at Deacon's family he had ended up pinned to a wall. He slapped Charlie on the shoulder, hard enough to sting, then nodded approvingly at Deacon.
"Well done," he said.
"Thank God," Charlie managed finally and surreptitiously squeezed Deacon's hand. "D - I - um - need to call Mum. I promised I would as soon as we arrived."
"I met your Mum," Jimmy said. "She's a nice lady."
Deacon's eyes narrowed as he looked at Jimmy but he spoke to Charlie. "Sure, Charlie," he said. "Go give her a call. Tell her we'll be home soon."
Max chuckled and laid a hand on Jimmy's shoulder and squeezed. "Come on. We have winnings to collect," he said and lead the man off.
"Thanks, D," Charlie said and detached himself from one of the blondes who had come back for another pose, passing her on to Deacon. Watching her wind herself around his lover didn't worry him in the slightest. He reckoned Deacon had earned some adulation. But his phone was in Car so he headed across the tarmac, threading through the celebration and crossing the open space.
In the Lamborghini Langham looked up and spotted Shaw - alone. For one moment he didn't do anything - then Max's warning about what would happen to his little girl if he lost the race sounded in his head again and he saw red.
Slamming his foot on the gas pedal the Lamborghini jumped forward, flying across the tarmac straight at Charlie.
Charlie had paused level with the front of the Nissan and was commiserating with the Newman brothers. Luckily they were quite philosophical, having been in it for the glory and having done much better than they had expected.
"There's always next time," Charlie suggested. "I don't think D will be doing this again, so you'll knock 'em dead."
"Hah, we'd beat you," Matty crowed and Charlie laughed and walked on towards Car. The sudden roar of an engine wasn't that unexpected. What did shock him was that it was the red Lamborghini and that it was coming right at him.
If anyone shouted a warning no one in the group surrounding Deacon, including Deacon himself, heard. And it wouldn't have mattered if they had, they'd never have made it to Charlie in time. But someone else heard, someone else saw what was happening - and they acted.
The big black Challenger suddenly came to life - despite the keys being in Deacon's pocket - and with screeching tires also shot towards Charlie. The engine growled a deep, wicked sound that should never come from a vehicle and Langham only had time to glance out his window in surprise before the Challenger slammed into the driver's side door of the Lamborghini, shoving it sideways.
The explosion blasted out the windows in the Nissan and sent a few people tumbling. Deacon turned in shock, eyes widening, and then he was running for the burning wreckage.
"Charlie!!!"
Jimmy saw him run, saw the flame and smoke rising. "Jesus Christ," he said to Max. "Langham did for the little queer!" And he joined the others hurrying to get a better view.
The two cars were locked together in a mess of twisted metal, the smaller lighter car wrapped around the front of the Challenger. In the flames a figure could just be seen draped across the steering wheel of the Lamborghini, but the fire in the Challenger was too intense.
"No oh God no please," Deacon chanted as he ran, brought up short by the intense heat coming off the cars and evaporating the tears on his cheeks. Try as he might he couldn't get close to the Challenger and began shouting for someone to call 911, get water, something - ANYTHING!
His voice carried over the roaring of the fire to the Nissan and its drivers who looked at each other then shouted back.
"Here," Lee Newman yelled. "Over here!"
Matty crouched over Charlie, shielding him as best he could from the heat.
Deacon's head snapped around and he hurried in the direction of the voice, Charlie's name coming out in a gasp when he spotted him. He ran towards them, dropping to his knees beside Charlie and the other men.
"Charlie!" he said desperately, "Oh God please, don't you do this to me. Charlie.... c'mon, Mouse, open your eyes..."
"He jumped," Matty said. "Or fell, couldn't see which. Smacked right into the front of the car and slid off. Man, we thought ..." He stopped as Charlie twitched and his hands rose, searching, then fastened on Deacon's hand.
Charlie's eyes opened, lids squinting, and he croaked a word. "Car?"
Deacon gave a sob of relief and pulled Charlie to him, holding him tight. "Oh thank God," he said, that Charlie was asking about Car completely escaping him for the moment.
Charlie winced as he was gripped, then relaxed against Deacon, holding him tight and burrowing his face against his neck.
Newman got up and looked at the two burning vehicles then at his own damaged car.
"We better go," his brother said. "She'll drive - far as a workshop anyway. Someone was saying something about calling the fire department, and the police are gonna be involved too. There was a guy in there."
"Yeah, best get going while we can." He looked down at Deacon and touched his shoulder. "Hey man, we're gonna go before the police arrive. You'll be okay. They'll look after you."
Deacon just nodded, finally looking up. "Thanks," he said. "For watchin' out for him. No go on and get outta here."
Newman nodded and the two brothers hurried to get in their car. Deacon moved back enough to look at Charlie and quickly gauge him for injuries.
"Are you okay?"
"Just knocked the wind out of me," Charlie murmured and raised a hand to feel the back of his head. "Ow, got a bump there too. What the fuck happened? That bastard Langham was driving right at me then .." He looked past Deacon's shoulder at the inferno. "Oh dear God!"
"I thought you were in there, Charlie," he said, the fear flashing over his face again. "There was the explosion and I couldn't see you and..."
Charlie placed his hands on Deacon's face and looked into his eyes. "Car saved me," he said, his voice shaking with certainty. "Langham was driving at me and Car knocked me out of the way and smashed into him. She saved me for you. Deacon, she did it for you." He hitched himself up until their foreheads touched. "She loves you almost as much as I do."
Deacon kissed Charlie hard, so thankful he was ok, then turned to look at the burning wreckage that was Car. "Thank you," he said to the car - and whatever it was that had possessed it.
Charlie echoed him, his voice husky. "Thank you," he said, then began to scramble to his feet. In the distance a fire truck blared but police sirens were closer still.
"Do we need to run, D?" he asked. "I know we have false plates but what about serial numbers and stuff?"
Deacon looked towards Max, who was standing calmly and on his phone. Max noticed him and nodded giving him a quick thumbs up to say he had it handled.
"I think we're okay," he said. "If we're caught so's Sandberg after all."
Charlie rubbed the back of his head again, his hand on Deacon's arm to steady himself. "Well I'm glad that bastard's good for something," he said. "Gah, I feel sick just thinking about it."
He turned away from the burning cars and the shadow that had been Langham. Girls were still squealing in ecstatic horror, people were taking photos!
"D, can't we go?" he begged. "We need to find a phone - everything was in the car. Our wallets, phones, cash - apart from a few dollars." He put his hand in his jeans pocket. "I have about enough for a burger each and a call home."
"Yeah. C'mon." Deacon stood and helped Charlie up and Max came over to meet them. Before Deacon could speak he put a wad of cash in his hand.
"Get a cab and go to the Hilton," he said. "A room is waiting for you. I'll take care of things here and be by in a bit."
Before Deacon could respond Max was walking off again, headed to where the cop cars were appearing. So Deacon lead Charlie the other way - the burning cars hiding them from view - but not without many looks back at the wreckage of Car.
"I wonder," Charlie murmured as Deacon flagged down a cab, "who she was?"
But they agreed that they would probably never know.