Registered: 6 months, 1 week ago
It's just a Sunday drive. Evan wasn't thinking about any of the pointers he'd received or anything else. He approached turn three with one foot on the brake and the other on the launch pedal, applying pressure to both. The engine groaned, pushing against the brake pads. He had to watch the cars in turn four, the one directly in front of him and still see the flagman out of the corner of his eye. It was like holding a lit M-80; any second it would easyporn.top blow his hand off, but he couldn't throw it yet. There wasn't time to think. Evan had to rely on instinct. A flash of movement in Evan's peripheral vision, the roar of engines and Cindy yelling, "Green, green, green," all happened in the blink of an eye. It was go time. A Sunday drive it wasn't. Dale's car was fast and normally started closer to the front. Evan reached turn four with such a run that he either had to jam on the brakes or dive out of line. If he wanted to be careful, he should slow down and wait, not drive up to the wall and take a shot. Cindy's favorite expression was, be smart, not careful because being careful doesn't win races. Evan held his foot on the floor. The ten-foot concrete wall closed in as he screamed onto the front stretch, three wide. He took Dale's car all the way up to the wall and drove into the dark cloud of swirling dirt that chased the pack of cars. Evan was wide open, rocketing past cars. Then, like a lighthouse on a foggy night, there was a dim yellow light flashing in the dust storm. Cindy shouted, "Yellow, yellow, yellow," and a car appeared in front of him. It was stuffed head-on into the wall in turn one. Shit, nowhere to go. There were cars to the left, concrete on his right, and no way to stop before—Whether it was instinct or dumb luck, nobody could be sure, but Evan veered right and skidded up the pit entrance road. Come around, go left and come around. Get back on the track," Cindy said. "Great move, great move."
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