Sweet Carolina(43)

Dell cursed as they cut off his next bid for the lead. He backed off and settled in behind the pair for another lap. They came into turn four and Dell eased up on the bumper of the low car.

“Careful,” Russell cautioned. “Those two aren't gonna to give you an inch.”

“Fuck them,” Dell said and tapped his grill against the lead car's bumper again. This was fucked up bullshit. It was obvious he had the faster car. They teamed up to shut him out, but he wasn’t going to let them get away with it.

“Don't do anything stupid, Dell.” Caro's voice came through his headset.

“Winning isn't stupid,” he said as he gave the lead car another nudge, forcing both cars toward the wall, creating a gap on the inside. Dell cut left, slipping down the track on the front stretch into turn one. His combatants closed the gap, cutting him off once again.

Dell could taste the win. Could see the checkered flag come down as he crossed the finish line in the lead. No one was going to snatch it from him and get away with it.

Two laps to go.

He made one more bid for the lead and they cut him off again.

“So that's the way you want to play it,” he muttered to himself. They weren't going to give him track position, so he'd take what was his, and be damned the consequences. If he wasn't going to win, they weren't either.

Dell drove under the white flag. One more lap. They thought they had it won, but Dell wasn't ready to concede the race. They rode high in turn one and Dell punched the nose of his car alongside them on the inside.

“Three wide,” his spotter said.

No shit.

They realized their mistake and in turn two, they crowded him onto the apron. Dell crowded right back, grinding against the closest car – forcing him and his partner in the conspiracy to go high.

“Three wide!” his spotter yelled in his ear.

The cars bumped and rubbed through the backstretch into turn three. They forced Dell back to the apron in the turn, hitting him with a solid bump intended to take him out of the race. Dell countered with a quick jerk of the wheel, sending them all careening toward the wall.

“Dell!” Caro's voice.

“Fuck,” he said as the outside car hit the wall first. Like boxcars on a runaway train, the second car followed the first in a shower of sparks and grinding metal. Dell glimpsed clear track ahead, then a cloud of smoke obscured his vision.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The impact rattled his teeth, then he was spinning inside the cloud. Crumpling metal and screeching tires added to the surreal tableau. He caught glimpses of bright colors interspersed with showers of sparks as he spun. Another jolt knocked the breath from his lungs. His body slammed against the restraint and back against the seat. He was weightless. Then the world tumbled in a kaleidoscope of colors, some bright, some dark and all accompanied by the devil's orchestra.

In the back of his mind, he understood what was happening, but he was helpless to stop it. He was nothing more than an ant in a tin can being kicked down the street by a giant.

He heard voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. He shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears. His head pounded and his shoulders ached where the restraints bit into them. Too tight, he thought, wondering how it got that way. It wasn't too tight when he started the race.

Dell opened his eyes. His world was upside down. He shook his head again and still his world was upside down. He swatted at the hand trying to unhook his restraint. No. Can't take it off.

“Easy man. We'll get you out. Just take it easy.”

Dell turned toward the man speaking. His head spun with the effort to make sense of the helmeted head poking upside down through his window. Dell reached for his own helmet and fumbled with the fastener. A gloved hand grabbed his wrist.

“Leave it on, Dell. We'll have you out in a minute. Let us do the work.”

Dell mumbled something in response, then his world went black.





Chapter Twelve





Time slowed to a crawl and Caro watched in horror as the scene played out before her. She'd seen plenty of crashes, but none as violent as this one. And Dell was right in the middle of it. Her stomach lurched and her lungs ceased as the mass of twisted, grinding metal encased in smoke, sparks, and the occasional flame careened around turn four and came to an eerily silent stop on the grass buffer between the track and pit road.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she chanted. “Dell,” she shouted into the microphone. “Dell!”

Russell put a hand on her arm, momentarily drawing her attention away from the horrific scene on the track. “Give him a minute, Caro. He'll be okay, you'll see.”

No, she didn't see. Emergency crews were on the scene almost before the mass of metal came to a complete stop, but it did nothing to ease her anxiety. A cloud of smoke obscured her vision. A lone figure emerged in a clear spot, only to be swallowed up again by the smoke. Caro's heart skipped a beat. She realized the man swaggering out of the acrid mist wasn't Dell and her heart stopped completely.