Drag Pt. 2

Raad's vision blurred, the neon traffic lights dancing nauseatingly in front of his eyes. His body felt weightless as the Mustang flew through the air.

The silent scream ringing in his ears came to a screeching halt as metal met gravel with a sickening crunch, with only the thin strap of his seat-belt keeping his rag doll body from being flung out in a hail of shattered windscreen. Red sparks burst on contact as the car lurched again into the air, landing hard, skidding fifty feet with pieces scraped off in its wake, and settled finally with all four tires on the road.

Shaking his head slowly, Raad winced as shards of glass from his now disintegrated windows dug deeper into his face. Biting back swears and tears, he tried to pluck out the bigger pieces, and set his eyes on his attacker.

The bulky black Ford 150 stood menacingly at the traffic lights, steam billowing in the cold night air from the heat vents on its wide hood.

Although the truck's front steel grill had dented significantly from the collision, the Mustang's side had taken the brunt of the brutal impact. The passenger-side door had caved in and the bright red paint had been cruelly scratched off, revealing the dull bruised silver underneath.

As Raad stared, the 150's driver-side door swung open and a pair of heavy boots thudded onto the ground. Raad gritted his teeth, anticipating the fresh hell he was about to face.

Stepping out from behind the door and armed with an assault rifle, Haji sneered down at the mutilated Mustang and it's driver. His thick mustachioed lips curled into a scage smile, Haji sauntered towards his prey, chuckling at his near certain victory.

"Raadi," Haji drawled in an almost sing-song voice. "You honestly thing you could get away from us?"

His boots crunched the glass on the asphalt as he taunted.

"From your family?"

Drag

Blood pounding in his ears, Raad's hand clawed at the cold metal of the gear knob, shifting hard into third. The engine howled with a deafening din and lurched forward, pressing him into the hot leather of his seat. Tires chewing the tarmac, Raad's ruby red Mustang, growling its V8 tenor, tore into the chilly November night.

Not to be outdone, Taha cackled while twisting the valve of the blue cylinder nestled at his side, unleashing nitrous-oxide to course through the pipes of his venomous green EvoX. Thirstily sucking in gallons of oxygen, the Mitsubishi chased after the glowing red embers of Raad's taillights.

Neon flames sputtering from the exhausts, Taha pulled level to the roaring Mustang and peered with eyes screaming from illicit chemicals at Raad staring laser-straight ahead, face contorted with concentration.

Too much is on the line, Raad agonized through gritted teeth. Slamming his heavy boot heal down till the pedal clanged against the metal floor, his crimson beast bellowed with hot rage and inched its nose ahead of the turbo screeching machine barreling alongside it.

The flickering lights of the intersection came closer at a sickening pace. With the end of the grueling trial in sight, Raad's knuckles whitened as his grip tightened around the steering wheel. Clenched jaw set in silent prayer, he willed the Mustang to go faster, just a bit more faster.

Taha's eyes flashed to the rising threat. His drug addled body twitching with every slight movement, a guttural lament escaped his throat.

Sensing victory drawing nearer, the Mustang thundered louder, a pack of rabid hounds under the hood, maws foaming, eager for the kill. Raad's vision tunneled until he could only see the fulgurating traffic lights. Tasting the rising bile, his mind blackened to a singular purpose: winning tonight.

Blaring white lights from his left snapped him out of his war-trance, and Raad just caught a split-second glimpse as the massive pickup truck smashed into the side of the Mustang.