“Holy racing hell….” Zamara’s voice trails off as she cranes her neck, taking in the full picture of the monster we’ll be climbing.
“That’s why,” I say.
Chapter Twenty
MOUNT MEGA, Giga’s ugly bitch of a sister. What she lacks in height, she makes up for in width and multiple jagged peaks. No actual roads. More like mountain paths not even fit for the surest-footed goats. As far as I know, not even Ace has driven this mountain. My palms sweat and we haven’t even reached the first incline yet.
I point at the glove compartment and say, “Time to earn your keep, Navigator.”
Zamara snorts as she takes out the tablet from the depths of what Screw calls my supply closet. She’ll find next to everything in there. A first aid kit. My knives. The binoculars she used yesterday. Flares. Possibly a gun, but I never checked.
She cues up the computer-generated map of the entire mountain, which includes all changes in terrain in the last twenty-four hours and the upcoming obstacles we will be facing. I’ve visualized the route countless times, but without actually driving it, I don’t have a feel for the course. Therein lies the challenge. Without guardrails, one wrong move can send us plummeting to our deaths. Or as I call it, “A day in the life of a Terra One racer.” I’m hoping my all-terrain tires last until we reach the first refueling station.
As thick vegetation gives way to sparser brush, Zamara touches her own earpiece and speaks. “Mac, how are we looking?”
I grin. She means in relation to the competition. Since I passed the roadster, I’m currently in tenth. Static precedes Mac’s reply in both our communication devices.
“Ace is minutes from the summit.”
Cursing under my breath, I tighten my grip on the wheel. “Then we have work to do.”
“Bedlam is trailing close behind him,” Mac continues.
“No surprise there,” Zamara says, never taking her eyes off the tablet. She shifts the view from vertical to horizontal, then uses her thumb and index finger to enlarge the image. “We’re coming up on the first incline. Fifty yards.”
I slow down to first gear when I make the turn. The first incline stares us in the face like the jagged scar on Brody’s neck. The path is so narrow, I’m not sure it’ll hold the body of my GT. As if to mock me further, a portion of the incline chips off near the top. Muttering a prayer to the racing gods, then cursing the organizers for thinking Mount Mega is drivable, I keep my left foot on the clutch and my right foot on the brake. Then I rotate my right foot ninety degrees so my heel is perpendicular to the gas while maintaining my toes on the brake. This way I can apply gas and brake at the same time if needed. Applying pressure to the gas pedal with my heel, I maintain pressure on the brake. Slowly, I lift my left foot off the clutch and give the gas more pressure. The GT jerks forward, causing a surprised squeal from Zamara.
“If you’re going to screech every time I do something, I’m going to gag you,” I say through gritted teeth. I can’t run up this steep slant the way I normally would. The ground is too unstable. I can feel the tires digging in. Too much speed can destabilize the slope. Without looking, I can tell she’s sending me one of her incredulous looks. When I finally feel we won’t roll back, I move my right foot totally over to the gas pedal.
I hold my breath throughout the climb. The crunch of gravel and pop of rocks strain my already stretched-thin nerves. Passing someone, I can do. Driving like a maniac through torrents while dodging lightning bolts, no problem. But pushing up unknown terrain? Give me a sec. If I were alone, I would have gunned it. Much to Mac’s irritation, for sure. But I have Zamara’s life to consider too. She’s here to get us both safely to the other side of this mountain.
A collective sigh of relief comes from Zamara and Mac when we reach the top.
“Had me panicking there for a second,” Mac says. “Thanks, RC.”
I laugh. “You’re welcome.” I shift to second gear and ease the GT closer to the mountainside. We plan on taking the tightest racing line this terrain presents. I’m still pretty much driving blind. The idea of it pumps much-needed adrenaline into my system. I lick my upper teeth.
“All right, at the next corner is a set of uneven S-curves,” Zamara says as if we’re just taking a lazy drive to the beach.
Silently thanking her for keeping it together, I make the turn faster than I would have liked. The loose gravel catches the rear tires the wrong way, and we fishtail toward the edge. My fearless navigator screams, catching a glimpse of the ravine—and we’re not even that high up yet. So much for thinking she’s calm.
“My bad,” I grimace out, pulling the wheel to the left so we return to the mountainside. The safer side. “This is slower going than I thought.” I press a button on the dash, and a screen flips out. “Call. Mac,” I say.
“Why didn’t you do that yesterday when we were barreling through a lightning storm?” Zamara smacks my arm.
“Because there would have been too much interference in the atmosphere for a proper signal to come through. The earpieces are on a different frequency,” Mac answers for me. Good thing since my mind is on negotiating the S-curves. More like squiggly lines made to look like a stony trail. How the hell did Ace and Bedlam get through this with their lowered cars? The stones alone are already wreaking havoc on the underside of my baby.
Zamara blushes and mumbles an apology. I’m not sure I like this
