Primal Threat - Earl Emerson [44]
As he floated over the washboard, aware that the shocks, both front and rear, were moving like crazy, he realized there was so much wind in his face and behind his sunglasses that his eyes were watering and he was beginning to lose his vision. He was like a kid on a runaway horse. And then he was in the gravel and touched the brakes, felt the rear tire skid, heard the noise, felt the back end kick out, and let off the brakes as the bike wobbled. He could feel himself beginning to crash. It was going to end in a bloody, tumbling wreck. Don’t crash, he said to himself. Don’t do it. Through sheer force of will, he held the bike upright and picked up even more speed. He could see the bridge now. More gravel patches came and went so quickly he didn’t have time to panic.
He was carrying so much speed he began to veer toward the right side of the bridge and the eight-inch concrete lip that stood in lieu of a railing, and then as he hit the first of the concrete, he saw Kasey’s Porsche parked at the far end, the front end sticking out three or four feet into the roadway. Zak was headed straight for the front bumper. He tried to shift his weight. Tried to straighten out. Was flying. Maybe forty, forty-five. Maybe fifty. It was hard to guess. And that damn Porsche was going to kill him. Wrestling the bars did nothing to change his line, and he knew he was going to clip it. There wasn’t anything he could do but keep on. And then he was past it, had cleared it by a fraction of an inch, shooting up the road into the dust, skidding the rear tire to show off.
When he turned around, the white Ford was nowhere in sight. If they’d really started ten seconds behind, he’d beat them even more handily than Giancarlo had. “Shit!” yelled Kasey, his back to Zak as he watched the white Ford come skittering down the logging road.
The Ford was sliding sideways, overcorrecting and sliding in the other direction. For a second Zak thought it was going to run off the road, but it managed to avoid an accident, and then as the Ford came across the bridge Scooter gunned it, showering pebbles on the spectators and peppering Kasey’s Porsche.
“Nice,” said one of Nadine’s friends sarcastically, as she shielded herself. Instead of asking if everyone was okay, Kasey went directly to his SUV to check for damage.
While the Ford turned around in the distance, Kasey walked over to Zak, who said, “That parking job almost got me killed.” Kasey ignored him. Moments later the Ford pulled up behind the girls, enveloping everyone in another cloud of dust.
“We’re not paying,” said Kasey.
“What do you mean you’re not paying?” Nadine joined the duo. “If you’d won, you’d make Zak pay.”
“He played us. A guy plays you, there’s no money owed.”
“You underestimated him,” said Nadine. “It’s your own fault.”
“How much did I win by?” Scooter asked, scanning their faces eagerly as he strutted toward the gathering. “How close was it?”
“Not close at all,” said Kasey. “The bike won by five seconds.”
“Bullshit.”
“No, it’s not bullshit. He came down that hill like something from Cape Canaveral.”
Scooter turned to Zak. “I’m not paying.”
Zak looked at Kasey and then turned back to Scooter. “Spoken like a true gentleman.”
One of the things Zak had savored about his relationship with Nadine was their ability to spend time together without either of them feeling compelled to speak, and hiking up the hill after the race was one of those times. Zak was exhilarated over winning the race but quickly put it into the past. He was with Nadine now, alone, and happy about it in light of the fact that only two hours earlier he’d been of the opinion he might never see her again. They stopped twice to look at the view and assess the burgeoning sunset. As they approached the Jeep camp, Zak pushing Giancarlo’s bike, they closed in on the white Ford and the group surrounding it.
“How many times can I win the same bet?” Hugh asked, placing his face close to Stephens. He slapped Chuck on the back and approached Scooter tentatively. “I think you owe me something.