Speed Gang

Of course it was illegal. Crash never made any plan that involved honesty, the rules, or fairness. He was out to win and he'd lie, cheat and break a hundred rules to get there.

So why was I tailing him at breakneck speeds, drifting corners, tires squealing, head bouncing off the headrest?

Because I needed him.

I'd learned early on that I wasn't the natural leader of the gang. I was strong, fast, and smart enough to know not to be last. The tail end got caught. Never lag behind and never split up so far that you couldn't see the leader.

Crash drove his tiny Mazda right up the fountain steps in the plaza. My muscle car was low and heavy, too low for that nonsense. I swerved to take the right side road. Crazy Louie took the left, his hybrid scrapped together from parts he was quickly shedding all over the city. He'd have to ditch his ride if the chase kept up much longer.

Meeting on the other side of the plaza, we headed for the tunnel. Good-bye public eye. Slowing, we took the service exit to our lair.