The First Run - 4

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The rain had begun to ease off by the time we arrived at the disused racetrack. It was more or less an oval, with a chicane along the one side and a helix spiralling down on itself on the other side, but nothing major. The pits were falling apart and the remains of a few old racing Zoomuses were idling in their stalls. It was Region 57, what were you expecting? There had been only one proper racer from 57, Pros Widdline, and he had never won a Hyper GP race, though he ended up on the podium a few times. Apparently there were faithful 57-ers that believed they could also reach that high, though the silence of the track proved otherwise, fairly resoundingly as well.

'So what is it you're supposed to be delivering?' I asked Markro. Since I had said yes to the possibility of working for his boss, if we got there alive that was, he hadn't pointed a gun at me. Though I didn't expect him to be friendly, and I was fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, right.

'An letter,' he said, scrambling over a large fence that ran along the perimeter the track, itself rusting and full of holes a small child could get through. We weren't that small, this time definitely unfortunately.

'A letter?' I asked, an eyebrow raised. 'Can't you just read it to him over the Halo-Core?' Markro shook his head.

'The boss doesn't like to not have physical evidence of something,' he replied. 'Trust me; he's used it several times.'

'Sounds like a charming man, your boss,' I said. 'And possibly my future boss,' I thought to myself.

'He's not the nicest, friendliest or most caring of men, but he runs a good business, and does it well. Along with a side-project or two, which is where I come in.'

He said little more as we scampered across the racetrack. The grandstand on the far side of the track was beginning to collapse in on itself, and I could see hundreds of faces in its shadow watching as a dozen hopefuls throttled up and powered around the now powerless track. The tiles that would have lit up to show the way were now dull and lifeless, as if they had simply lost the will to live. As we walked over the track, I almost thought that I could feel the presence of a hundred ghosts, hear the roar of the engines as they braked hard for the helix, checking around them before preparing to lean into the banking, hunkering down with their head close to the tank for maximum slip-streaming of the racer in front. It was a haunting experience, and yet it was perfectly normal. It was Region 57, after all. What else was new when it came to poverty and abandonment?

We re-scaled the fence to leave the track, and dropping down the other side made our way past the old grandstand. The warehouse was on our right, and we could see a side door that looked like it could be opened. Markro extracted his gun, but I, having none, simply slid in behind him.

'What's your name, by the way?' Markro asked. For some reason I had to think for a minute. It's strange that when someone asks you what your favourite music artist is you can answer in the blink of an eye, but if someone asks you your name you have to do a quick double check on the memory files to make sure you've got it right. I've never understood that.

'Xayne,' I said. He glanced over his shoulder.

'Nice to meet you, Xayne.'

'The same here, when you're not jumping off a bridge onto me.' Markro smiled, then stuck his foot out and kicked down the door.

The warehouse, large and thick with dust, was empty. There was a broken window the other side, and a needle or two lying around that area, where apparently some drug-addled maniacs had broken in as a place to shoot up and die hard. Never did drugs, never wanted to. I can understand why some do, but I can also never get my head around the idea.

'There it is,' Markro said, pointing into the corner of the warehouse. Standing there on the ground was an old two-seater model with the bars instead of the wheel, itself with a thin line of dust on it, but nowhere near as much as the rest of the building. 'Must have put it there a while ago as a precaution, or an escape hatch.'

We walked over to it and Markro inspected it briefly. Aside from the dust, which with a quick wipe-down would disappear as if it had never been there, there looked to be nothing physically wrong with it. Pulling down a small hatch under the steering column, he extracted a plastic key-card and slid it into the slot. After a cough and a splutter, the Zoomus fired up.

'Oh, beautiful,' Markro said, patting the side of the Zoomus affectionately.

From behind me I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Taking a quick glance outside I saw two men with large two-handed guns, XF-38 Betas.

'Company,' I hissed to Markro. He cursed, looking around for a way out. He spied something by the main entrance.

'Hit the button,' he said, pointing to just by the side of the main doors. I scrambled over as he gunned the throttle, diving on board. As I slammed the button to open the main doors, I heard shouting from outside the side entrance.

The Zoomus moved off, heading for the door. It was now open fully. But where was I to run to?

'Jump!' Markro yelled. I shook my head in disbelief. It was insane. Madmen didn't do this kind of shit. And then I remembered that right then, I essentially was a madman.

I moved to the side and timed it. Just as the nose of the Zoomus was passing me by, hovering on its Zero-G cushion as if gliding on water, I pounced. I slammed into the seat, almost flying straight over and into Markro, pushing him out. The Zoomus went left, and Markro had to yank right on the controls to keep it from slamming into the side of the warehouse.

The back of the Zoomus took a hit from the men, who had now gotten into the building and were firing away. A second shot went wide, missing us just barely.

We sped out of the warehouse, banking hard right to run behind the grandstand. Markro, seeing that I had finally managed to manoeuvre myself into the seat so that I was actually sitting and not just flopped over it with my legs sticking out, laughed wildly as he headed towards the Zoomus highway. I sat back, breathing heavily. 'Never again will I have a dull moment,' I thought to myself.


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