55. Ashes of Nico
It didn’t make any sense.
Anderson’s mind was in a turmoil, his heart was stuck in a worried frenzy. Why would Carl, who had everything he could ask for, be a death car racer? It wasn’t adding up. These people raced for the money, some of them were hardened criminals, racing for their freedom…so why?
Jason saw the white look of fear on Anderson’s face, glistened by the beads of sweat that slowly tricked down the sides of his face. He punched Anderson’s shoulder and laughed heartily.
“Ooh, seems like someone has found a favorite racer, huh?” he asked with a mocking scrutiny in his eyes, and placed his arm over Anderson’s shoulders. “You know what they say around here, never fall in love with a racer, because he could literally die at any time.”
Anderson’s heart clenched and a cold shiver ran through his spine. Jason led him into a dark tunnel that stank of alcohol, tobacco smoke and sweat. His insides curled and he felt an outburst tugging at the base of his throat. He wanted to retch out his guts; this place was so eerie, despite the boisterous atmosphere that hung in the air.
Jason got them front row seats and suddenly dragged Anderson as he broke out into a hobble. All Anderson had to do was pick up his walking pace. Jason wasn’t as fast as he thought and he was gasping desperately for air by the time they arrived at their seats. He dropped on the plastic chair with an exasperated sigh and his eyes widened when he heard a sharp crack. Anderson glanced at him and shook his head with a frown.
“Damn, these seats weren’t built for muscular people like me,” Jason remarked, attracting stern stares from the spectators around them. He lowered his head and sighed, “Jeez, tough crowd. One can’t even crack a good joke in here, huh?”
Anderson frowned when he saw the beaten-up cars, crawling out of their holes to the cracked asphalt. He noticed the rusted spikes jutting from their wheel wells like sharp teeth ready to bite and tear anything apart. The car bodies were painted carelessly with slashes of black, fire-orange and a blood-red color, each holding a monster-like welded armor. He winced slightly when their exhaust pipes screamed, belching out smoke and flames. Anderson quivered in fright, his eyes desperately searched for which car was Carl’s, but he couldn’t see the drivers’ face.
There was only a dashboard, with skulls next to the drivers’ names. There were various huge screens around, camera angles set up perfectly to monitor the entire race. The drivers’ names were being called out by an announcer. Each receiving either a loud cheer or standing ovation, or a disgruntled boo.
“Headcrusher!” The announcer bellowed and the dashboard lights focused on the name.
“Yeah!” Jason screamed ecstatically. “Let’s go Headcrusher! Crush some motherfucking heads!”
Anderson’s heart was pounding with terror, but he couldn’t ignore Jason’s spit that flew around each time he yelled. As he was about to confront him, the announcer yelled out a name that made Anderson freeze instantly.
“You all know him, you all love him! *Nico!*”
It felt like his guts had just been hit with a sledgehammer. He stared at the dashboard and his eyes flickered when the lights glowed on the name Nico. Could it really be him?
He grabbed Jason’s flesh arm and pointed at the race track, “Which car is Nico’s?” he demanded hastily.
Jason was taken aback by the desperation in his tone, but he pointed a stubby finger at the only black car on the asphalt and Anderson let go of him immediately. The buzzing crowd made the ache in his head unbearable. He winced when they roared again and he soon noticed that a timer was running down. His fingers quivered; their tips felt like tiny, frozen islands. It was a terrible habit of his that he had forced himself to let go of years ago, but he shoved his fingers into his mouth, his clattering teeth nibbling gently on them.
*Three…two…*
“Oh please god, if Nico is really Carl, keep him safe tonight. I’m begging you!”
*One!*
“Round One!” The announcer’s voice boomed and the cars’ engines roared and flamed on queue.
Anderson could barely watch, but each time he looked away, he found himself dragging his eyes back to the dangerous asphalt. The cars clashed against each other, but Nico’s was safely at the back. That made Anderson wonder what exactly he was doing. Why wasn’t he trying to make it to first position yet? A particular red car rammed into another firmly, but the spikes on the receiving car’s tires caused terrible damage to the red car, causing its tires to skid off the main track.
“This is so exciting!” Jason exclaimed. “We have three undefeated people racing together in one night. It’s like a dark heaven!” he rolled his eyes dreamily. “Headcrusher has never been defeated. He holds the record for the most kills. Twenty-seven men. He’s won the race six times in his career, only second to Nico.”
Anderson’s ears pricked attentively, “Nico?”
Jason nodded, his eyes glued to the screens, “Uh huh. Nico doesn’t kill much, he likes to play it safe, and that’s why we the fans cheer for Headcrusher more than him. But Nico is a very skilled racer, you see. The times he has killed men were only when those men ruthlessly pursued him on the track.”
Anderson swallowed and swiped the sweat off his forehead with his sweaty palm. His heart was pounding in anticipation as he asked, “And how many men has Nico killed?”
“Just sixteen.”
Anderson gasped, “By kill, do you mean…like death, death? Those men out there really die?”
Jason rolled his eyes, “What do you think this is, Carl? Some Lego or anime? This is the real deal. Those men die out there and the ones that survive do with serious injuries. Only the racers favored by the spirits of the asphalt come out with no scratch.”
“Lap 3! Release the guns!” came the announcer’s voice that was like a rapture to Anderson’s ears.
“Guns?” his eyes widened, “What guns?”
Jason grinned, “Oh, you will see.” He said, his tone laced with excitement and malevolence. “Come on, Headcrusher…now is your time to show them what you’ve got!”
Anderson’s arms went up at the sound of rapid gunfire. His eyes watched the screens in horror when he saw Nico’s car being pumped with bullets from a much larger Ford Mustang. Jason’s wild screams told him that the Ford Mustang belonged to the Headcrusher. His mouth felt dry, his cold fingers went into his mouth again and he crouched when his stomach churned.
Nico managed to go around the Ford Mustang and swerved the car into an alley. The screens became blurry, but the last thing Anderson noticed was the Ford Mustang racing into the tunnel also. All he could hear now was gunfire once more and at last, Nico’s car burst out of the tunnel, heading towards the finish line.
“Aw shit!” Jason exclaimed and glanced at the dashboard. “Six guys have been killed.” He said with a straight look, then a sudden excitement spread on his face. “Awesome! It’s just Nico, Headcrusher and Valmor left! “
“Who the fuck are you rooting for?” Anderson asked with a frown, irritated by Jason’s aggravating voice.
“Headcrusher, of course! Ooh, popcorn! Over here!” he yelled and bought two wraps of popcorn. He handed one to Anderson and tore his open. As he was about to eat, he screamed again, spraying the popcorn all over himself and Anderson. “There he is! Come on, Headcrusher!”
Anderson sucked in air and watched nervously. Everyone was on their feet now, screaming their lungs out and cheering on their favorite racer. Anderson’s heart was thumping so hard that it felt like it was carving a hole into his chest. Headcrusher was firing at Nico again, Anderson’s only hope was that he was so close to the finish line.
But something happened.
The thick metal plate Nico was using as a shield suddenly collapsed to the ground and the motion made it skid backwards, barely missing Headcrusher’s car, but it couldn’t miss Valmor’s. Headcrusher fired into Nico’s car ruthlessly, just as he was edging towards the finish line. A bullet struck and punctured the gas tank and a second one caused a spark.
Anderson’s eyes widened and flashed with the lightning quick orange flame right before the loud explosion rocked the atmosphere. Nico’s car erupted like a firestorm. A cloud of black smoke billowed, thick and fast while orange and yellow flames licked the atmosphere in a blinding flash.
Anderson felt the shimmering heat from the explosion, his eyes watched with disbelief as the fire hungrily roared through the wreckage.
And with a loud roar from the crowd and Jason in particular, Headcrusher crossed the finish line.
“No…” Anderson’s lips trembled weakly, his lungs refused to breathe.