Saviors 101

Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Tee got the track-clear signal and chirped the tires coming out of pit row and onto the track. The acceleration was sharp enough to push her back against the seat like a heavy-duty all-body massage. By the end of Pit Row she was doing better than sixty despite having her pit near the end of the wall.

Her baby hummed. She shouted a thanks to the crew who knew better than to reply as she worked her way up through the gears and slammed into Turn One.

She could feel half of the other drivers thinking, “Get to know the track first.” And the other half just thinking, “Oh s**t! Here she goes again.”

By Turn Two she was up to speed and flew down the Backstretch. The lighter color of where the track had been scrubbed then dusted flew beneath her tires. The pale dirt sticking to any remaining oil and wicking off the scrubber’s moisture. She climbed high into Three and rocketed through the slot barely noticing as she did the same through Four. The lighter line of the de-oilers crossed and recrossed her path as she found the sweet spot on the track.

All gauges green. The steering wheel vibrating with the road. Down the homestretch, she signaled that she was ready for the first timed run.

She flew beneath the green flag and really opened it up.

And the Lipstick Lady answered. With a roar of power and steel better than any orgasm, her car would have lifted off if not for the airdams and body contours designed to glue her to the track.

You could push so much harder when there was no one else on the track. You could push so much harder when it was just you and the road. The car melted from her awareness, it was just an extension of her, seeking the sweet spot, lifting high on the entry and swooping down on the inside of the curve with a plunging thrust she could feel firing up between her legs.

Driving the gears up until you thought you were going to crest over the top of the world and then down, down, down, body slamming hard against the racing belts. Head jerking and twisting as the g-forces slapped the helmet from side to side.

By the time she rolled down the home stretch, most of the drivers had moved to the outer wall to watch her flash by. Candy-red color of the Lipstick Lady barely a blur at 223 mph. Under the checkered flag, she didn’t slow down. Now the car was really humming. Cold track or no, she had to ride it one more time.

And the Lady didn’t disappoint her. The same thrust and rise through the turns, the same hot flash of gears slamming her back and freeing her again. The same orgasmic rush as she flew more time around and over the line. Beneath the fluttering checkered flag.

Alone on the track.

Alone in her world.

Floating as she let the Lady coast the way home. Two hundred mph let her float through all four turns without touching the gas until she coasted down Pit Row and slotted in at the numbered marker flag for her pit position that Tommy and Jane were waving over their heads rather than holding still at the head of her pit-row parking spot.

She let her attention drift back to the headset. A release. A letting go. The outside world a painful violation as it entered her suddenly lax and languid body.

“Track record! You broke the track record! On both runs! Lipstick Lady rules!”

She killed the engine and lay there in the seat, letting her crew do all the work of removing her from the car.

They took her helmet which had muffled the shouting in her ears and amplified it with reality. Tommy and Jane hugged her fiercely and kissed both her cheeks. The rest of her Pit Boys and Gals were doing Happy Feet dances behind the wall.

She stretched long and slow, raising her arms over her head until every joint, every sinew in her body popped and crackled.

Fuck all, but that was awesome.

Bobby Joe hadn’t run yet; he was three pits down. And had enough race points to have to wait awhile for his run.

He held up a sign board that he’d scrawled on, grinning. The crews kept them handy in case of radio failure.

“10”

Damn straight!