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Another awesome update.

Just a little more time. And then we'll get to witness one hell of a battle.


Do I even need to say "MOAR PLZ!"?

say moar, you get moar.

But not yet.

I'll just taunt you with a nice little road known as...



That, my friends, is the final round in all of its 14 mile goodness.

omg those twisties @ the NC/Tennessee border are pretty awesome - its where my civic first saw some turns last Thanksgiving.

Okay, now is where it gets intersting.

1st chap posted since I finished my English 102 ppr. Glad that's over with.

Chapter 14: The Other Jersey Devil Pt. 2: Chosen Cosworth

Two Years Later: Atco, NJ NOPI Tunerfest

“Dude,” Dru said to his friend Zak Remus, “Why the hell are we here? I hate these rice-burners.” “You don’t like these cars?” Zak said, a die-hard audiophile, “Man, these suckers have gotta be loud.” “I wanna race,” Dru said to Zak, “Not look at the tens-of-thousands of flying robot wearing, fart-can rocking ‘I-Live-My-Life-At-A-Quarter-Mile-At-A-Time’ posers; where’s the autocross?” “Shit, brah,” Zak said, irritated at his comments, “Ya need some entertainment at times.” “I know,” Dru replied, “but 50 screens in one car? Come on! That is so damned stupid!” “You gonna run your 240?” “No I can’t, Zak,” Dru said, disappointed, “I bent the front spindle the other day trying to rally the car. I mean, didn’t you feel the rattling when we were driving down the road?” “Not really,” Zak said, obviously not as sensitive as Dru was when it came to ride comfort, “It’s always a pain in the ass to long haul with, right?” “Yeah,” Dru said, “But it’s just unsafe going around corners at a stronger g-force right now.” “So what’ll you drive then?” Zak replied. “Most of the time they have demo cars for people to run,” Dru replied, “I’ll just ask them if I can borrow one of those.”

“What do you mean ‘not for autocross competition use?”” Dru questioned. “That’s just the way they set it up,” an official with a Freddie Mercury style mustache said, “Now if someone else wouldn’t mind you borrowing their car, then I don’t see how it could be a problem.” “How much time do I have before the competition?” Dru asked, wiping his face with his hand in frustration. “About fifteen minutes to get back here and sign in,” the official said, “there’ll be announcements in-between five minutes for you to get a car.” With that, Dru went off, looking for people who’d allow him to borrow his car within a five-minute walk. “What’ll you do if you can’t find the car?” Zak asked. “Just give up,” Dru said, frustrated, but not that stressed, “It’s really just for my own enjoyment, that’s all.”

“Excuse me!” Dru yelled into the crowd, “If I could have your attention! I am in need of a rear-wheel drive car for me to compete in the autocross race. If I do win, I’ll donate $200 of the prize money to the owner.” There was silence among the people. “Who the hell are you?” a skater wannabe twelve-year-old kid said. “I’ve got a car,” a large man said, “Thing is, can you handle it?” “Great!” Dru said in joy, “Where is it?” “Follow me,” he said. The young driver followed the man to the parking lot. This man seemed terribly out of place at the tuner show. He wore a cowboy hat on top of his mullet. His muscular arms were covered in scars. Eventually, with eight minutes to spare, they reached the car. It was an old Corvette. “This,” the man said, “Is my L88 Corvette. Now if you wreck her in any way, I’ll cut your throat. Got it?” Dru, nervous about wrecking such a pristine muscle car, nervously uttered an “Understood” to the man. “Oh, and by the way,” the man said, “You seem like you’ve got some talent just from the way you acted back there. Name’s Road Buster-well, not really. If I did tell you my real name, I’d hafta kill you.” “Name’s Dru,” Dru replied, nervous and excited to get behind the wheel of a classic car such as this.

After getting signed up, something happened that shocked Dru into becoming a totally different driver than before; he saw his old school bully, Buck. He was sitting on the hood of his light blue Mitsubishi Eclipse. “Hey, retard!” he yelled, knowing that that trigger word might set him off. Dru, however, wasn’t getting angry. He now had something to race for. “I’m gonna beat him,” he thought as his eyes changed, “He’ll regret ever taking me on. This is war!” “Yo, punkass!” Buck yelled, getting off the hood of his car and heading over towards him, “Did you even hear me?” “I suggest that you stop picking on him, bub,” Road Buster said, coming back from the concession stand with a soda, “Or you’ll be talking through a tube when you wake up.” “No,” Dru said, “I’ve got this one.” “Oh,” Buck said, “So you are listening, huh. Now wemember, this car’s for big boys, and you ain’t even a big boy, Dwu.” “How ‘bout you shut your mouth and let your car talk for you?” Dru said, fearsome and controlled. “Okay then,” buck replied, “But be prepared to be blown away by my car’s power.”

The first to go was Buck. The race was a best-of-three time attack. Buck’s technique, while flawed in the eyes of Dru, got him an amazing time that wasn’t even beaten until Dru was up. As soon as the flagman waved his flag, Dru was off, getting used to the car. “Look at this guy,” Buck said to his posse, laughing, “He can’t even control that thing around the turns.” “I give him a half a lap more before things really start cooking,” Road Buster thought. By the time his first lap was done, Dru was behind Buck by almost two seconds. The second lap, however, began to look cleaner. “It’s different,” Dru said, downshifting and slamming on the brakes, “But not by that much compared to my 240.” This second lap would’ve been faster by three seconds, but Dru unfortunately knocked over a cone, costing him 5 seconds. “Shit!” Dru thought, hearing the cone go under the tire, “Well, I didn’t want to do this, but I guess that little mistake leaves me no choice.” The final lap, Dru seemed to push the envelope over the edge. Every turn, the tires spun with the force exerted on the chassis. Everytime he took a turn, he missed cones by inches. On one turn, Buck could’ve sworn that Dru tapped a cone. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway; Dru was faster by an insane seven seconds. It was revenge, and it was sweet for Dru.

From that day forward, Dru and Road Buster were good friends. Through Road Buster, Dru was introduced to a few shops in the northern New Jersey area that specialized in wrecked sports cars. About four months later during the college winter break, Dru headed up to a shop that specialized in wrecked 4-cylinder cars. It was below freezing, and the snow was beginning to fall. His father told Dru to take his Five Hundred, a car that Dru comically nicknamed the “Folvo” for its bastard Ford/Volvo roots. Walking through the boneyard, Dru saw the remains of burned out and busted up Miatas, Corollas, Civics, and even a SRT4 that seemed to be sideswiped by a large semi-truck that ignored it as it was changing lanes. As he continued through the junkyard, Dru ran across an old black Chevrolet Vega that was placed in between an MG Midget and a BMW 2002. It was a black car with gold stripes that sat on cement blocks. At first, Dru wondered what it was doing in a 4-banger specific graveyard, and then it hit him. “It can’t be!” he thought to himself as he walked over to the car. As he approached it, he saw the golden stripes were more than that. He wiped the still flaky snow off the side of the old seventies Chevrolet. On the stripe in Capcom-esque lettering stated what Dru was hoping to find. The stripe stated “COSWORTH TWIN CAM” boldly against the worn-flat black body. “N-no way!” Dru said in half-shock, half-exalting joy, “I think I’ve found my engine.”

As he worked his way around the car, looking at its glory, he began to feel something. It was as if something was calling him to the engine bay. He looked at the door to see if it was unlocked. It was, so Dru opened it to pop the hood. Inside the car, there was a smell of must and animal excrement. The seats were torn into as if a rats colony had gotten into the car and lived in the seats. The front windshield was broken with the spider crack heading to each corner of the glass. The rear left window was also smashed, which was letting snow into the car through its opening. The rear seat was entirely rotted, exposing the entire coil frame. The floorboard was not in good shape either; the decades of driving on salty winter roads had rusted them into orange Swiss cheese. Sadly for Dru, he knew the car was unable to be restored to its former glory. “If I could pull the engine out, however,” he thought, “I could drop it into my 240! Or better yet; the Spitfire!”

Opening the hood, Dru’s doubt was finally lifted from his shoulders; the engine was still there and fully intact. Even stranger was the fact that the engine seemed to be still in excellent shape. The aluminum valve cover was cold against Dru’s hand as he checked the spark plugs. “It’s like a new engine!” he thought as he checked the throttle linkage on the set of four throttle bodies. The blue and red racing fittings were shining as with the manifold and exhaust. As the snow kept coming down, Dru kept on staring at the engine as if it was an Aztec Crystal Skull filled with mysteries. “What is it,” he thought, while snow fell upon his leather racing jacket, “About this engine that draws me to it?” “What’re you lookin’ at there, kid?” a man’s voice stated, shocking Dru. “Oh, hi there!” he said, still in a daze from looking at the engine, “I was just wondering if I could possibly purchase this car.” “The car’s for sale,” the man replied with a grim look on his face, “But the engine isn’t.” “Why?” Dru asked, “Let me guess, it’s ‘haunted.’”

“Mmm-hmm,” the man said, “The original owner was named Brent Trevers, a young race mechanic for Cosworth in the 1970s. He was one helluva mechanic; apparently he tuned the engine to over 250 horses without a power-adder.” “What happened to him?” Dru asked. “Died one night working on the car twenty years ago,” the man stated solemnly, “While trying to test the engine, it backfired in his face. It seared all the skin off of his skull, killing him in a fiery holocaust. His friends decided to rebuild it and sell it for charity. The guy who bought it after the incident raced it every weekend out on Watkins Glen. One weekend, though, a Ferrari cut him off on his way to the races. His anger, for some reason that’s still unexplained, triggered what he said was an extra 200 horses in the car, and he was able to catch up with the Ferrari and tailgate him at over 160 mph for ten miles. He was so terrified when he regained his composure that the car kept on accelerating until it had passed the Ferrari and took the off-ramp at an insane 65 mph without losing grip.”

“So he sold it to you for scrap after being scared shitless by his angry driving,” Dru said, “that’s so cheesy. If you want the engine, I’ll go on ahead and find another car.” The reverse psychology wasn’t even fazing the man. “I ain’t kidding you!” the man said in desperation, “Something wakes up inside that engine whenever the driver gets mad!” “Well, I’m getting’ seriously pissed by your shit right now,” Dru exclaimed in frustration, getting in the man’s face, “So if you don’t want me to buy it, just say so--” All of a sudden, the twin-cam Cosworth engine exploded into life and began to idle for about twenty seconds while both the men stood silently. Once again, as the snow fell upon the car, Dru had begun to feel frightened. “I-is that a sign?” Dru asked, a little nervous. “No,” the man said, “That means that it must’ve chose you; it wants you to run it due to your anger. I’ll go get the forklift for you.” As he walked away, Dru stared at the engine. “So, you want me to give you new life, huh?” Dru thought as he looked at the engine, “Well, you’ve got it. You’ll become part of the greatest car to blaze down the Jersey Shore!”

Another chapter that was worth the wait Keep it up yo.

The Devil Twin-Cam appears! Getting a bit more interesting now.

Okay then, who;s up for some specs on a buildup of my dream car?

I believe I am!!!

Chapter 15: The Other Jersey Devil Pt. 3: Rebirth

The engine came into Dru’s garage within a week. It sat in the corner of the garage along with the Spitfire that had just been moved inside to get away from the terrible winter weather that had just come across Cape May County. Dru was also too busy to work on the car. He was working hard in his second semester of college trying to get a degree in mechanical engineering. To pay for the car, Dru worked whenever he could. He tutored students for a while, helped assemble bikes at Toys R Us during the Christmas season, and swept floors at his friend’s body shop.

May 12, 2006; Route 55, Mullica Hill Exit

One day in mid-May before finals, however, Dru ran across a man who he had never seen as he rushed to school for his Chem. II final that he was destined to bomb. While traveling down Route 55 in his 240 (which was severely detuned for gas mileage purpose during school), Dru ran across a dark green Pontiac. As he flew by the car, he realized what it was. “64 GTO, huh?” Dru wondered, “Illinois plates; damn, he’s coming from far places.” The car then flashed its high beams at him as if he wanted to race. “Okay then,” Dru said, stil going over Chemistry equations in his head, “Let’s dance all the way to the campus.” The two exploded from their cruising speeds. Dru tried to block the large GTO the best he could, but he couldn’t even try. It blasted past him. “Well, you’ve won,” Dru said, “Damn this KA24! Wait, he’s still going.” He was getting off at Dru’s exit. Dru followed suit, hoping to pass him in the turns of the hilly roads of Glassboro and Mullica Hill. He passed him while the big green machine was slowing down to make a turn. The back end swung out and barely missed a light pole as it powered through the turn. “Can’t stay and chat, Mr. GTO,” Dru said, “But I gotta pass my Chem. final.”

4:00 PM; Rowan University

After school, Dru’s phone rang. After picking up, there was another voice on the line. “You the kid with the Silvia?” the voice said. “Y-yeah,” Dru said, confused, “Why?” “Meet me at Deptford Mall, 5:00 PM sharp,” the voice said, “My GTO and I forgot to thank you.” With that, he hung up. Dru then ran and got into his 240 to head over to the mall.

At the mall, Dru saw the GTO parked with a man sitting on the trunk smoking a cigarette. “You’re early,” he said as Dru got out to meet this man, “Name’s Deuce. You drive really good.” “Thanks,” Dru said, “Why did you want to meet me here?” “I’ve heard from someone that you’ve got a project car you might need help with,” he replied. “My Spitfire?” Dru replied, wondering where he got the knowledge. “Exactly,” he said, stamping out the cigarette, “I’ve got the facilities for you in Camden if you want to assemble it properly.” “Thanks,” Dru said, “But why me?” “You drive that car like you built it,” Deuce said, “If you really want to build something properly that’ll smoke everyone, come to my shop tomorrow; got it?” “Okay,” Dru replied as they got each other cell phone numbers.

May 13, 2006; Somewhere in Downtown Camden, NJ; 8:30 AM

The next day, Dru brought the Spitfire and the engine to the shop. It was being towed by one of his high-school friends’ truck. He followed behind in the Folvo. They were dropped off in the shop, and thus began the massive workload.

The first issue was to install the large in proportion Cosworth engine in the small chassis. After opening the clamshell hood, they discovered a horrible truth; the suspension was shot. “So what do we do now?” Dru asked Deuce who was going over to the bench. “We screw our original plan,” he said, grabbing a plasma cutter and putting on a set of goggles, “And go all out. Road Buster’s funding the entire build, so money’s no option." The torch went on, and the cutting began.

First off, the entire car was stripped down to the unibody frame. The first thing to do was to strengthen and lighten the front end to hopefully achieve a better weight distribution. The first part of this was the rebuild of the suspension. All new hand-bent aluminum upper and lower control arms were installed along with a set of Tein coilovers on all four corners and ’95 Toyota Supra crossdrilled brakes. Overall, this lightened the front end by 100 pounds. The next thing to tackle was the drivetrain. The Cosworth engine was rebuilt from the bottom up. The engine was strangely in great condition. They started with a bulletproofing of the engine with a fully rebuilt Dart bottom end. The next thing was to tackle the cylinder head. The valves were given a look-over, and oddly enough seemed very advanced for thirty-year-old cylinder heads. The cams were next. A special set of cams was designed by Deuce, and built in the very old-school way of cam grinding in which a mechanic physically grinds away the metal from the cams themselves with a grinding wheel. After the rebuild, Deuce installed a new EFI system that looked very similar to the old set of throttle bodies, and gave the car a substantial power boost with a wide range of performance and efficiency fuel curves.

The next trick was to balance out the rest of the car. Dru figured a clever way to do so by taking the rear 6-speed transaxle of a ‘97 Corvette and substituting it for the original independent rear suspension’s differential. Next, a cut down torque tube was installed, and thankfully the original size Spitfire driveshaft fell into place. They used this as a template to make one out of aircraft-grade aluminum. After all was said and done, the car was dyno-tested, creating over 270 rwhp via a set of deep-dish dark-bronze Watanabe RS8s that were covering the Supra brakes.

* * * *

The car was ran hard for about a year. It still wore its old and chipped highway-sign green paint. It was quickly being known around the Garden State as the other Jersey Devil. It ran the mountain passes of High Point as well as the Jersey Turnpike and the Garden State Parkway in the infamous Exit “60-0” races. After a year of running, Dru sent her back to Deuce for some new lightening techniques and regulation-specifications to compete in his local SCCA races at the new Thunderbolt Speedway. He headed up to Chicago where Deuce lived to have the work done. During the time, Dru headed out to California and ran into Keisuke Takahashi, an up and coming Japanese muscle car racer in Irwindale. He met him again after the Spitfire was getting ready to be painted. Now he was tearing up the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia on the Skyline Drive, getting ready for the battle that would make him or break him.

This post has been edited by Turbo_Levin_13 on May 19 2008, 04:53 AM

Good work on covering Dru's past so far. Keep it up. And btw, I've thought that the Cosworth would be a Sierra or an Escort. But well, guess the Vega Cosworth fits the fic more.

Another nice update. Keep 'em coming

But I think you forgot a double-apostrophe around here:

Anyway. As is usual, I'll be looking forward to the next chapter.

And I'll especially be looking forward to the most probably action packed battle between Keisuke and Dru.

Yeah, thanks for catching that one, Meteor. (goes and makes changes, which were really done about 8 hours ago lol)

And I gotta warn you, the finale will be very, very, very long. (Tail of the dragon race=2-3 chapters)

This post has been edited by Turbo_Levin_13 on May 9 2008, 07:36 PM

That's relatively short actually. I've seen races that go over 4 chapters.

Neux chapter to post and expect moar to come at a faster rate; I'm done my spring semester, and hoping for at least a 3.7 GPA (damned chem'll be a high-B if I bombed my final )

Chapter 16: Fireworks

Two Months Later; July 4th 7:15 PM

It was a relatively warm July by the time Keisuke had come to Wildwood. Driving through the midsize shore town, he went down Pacific Avenue. At the recreation center, people were gathering for the monthly hardcore revue. All the hotel parking lots were filled with SUVs that had license plates from as far as Canada. “Feh,” he thought as he stopped at the last light on the street turning on his left turn signal, “Americans and their damned hemi-powered SUVs; they’re the only reason the world’s in an oil crisis.” The small 302 gurgled as he cruised down past the convention center. People were walking down the street wearing patriotic clothing. His Paxton supercharger whistled in a very low tone as he passed them by. A small kid looked at Keisuke’s car and pointed in joy at its sight.

He eventually parked in a small lot next to a water park. The walk was not as long as he thought; he was right next to the amusement pier that Dru was talking about. “Where is he?” Keisuke thought, looking around the booths. “Yo!” a familiar voice said in a happy tone from behind. “Hey,” Keisuke replied with less enthusiasm. “What’s the matter, man?” Dru said about Keisuke’s serious look. “I’m just ready to take you out,” he said with ambition, “That’s all I’m here for.” “Dude,” Dru said in a lax tone, “Ya gotta chill out a bit, man! C’mon! I’ll take you around here and show you the sights. We can deal with the rivalry later.”

The first stop of the tour was the boardwalk. Dru, who was with some of his friends, started showing Keisuke everything that he held near and dear to his heart. The two eventually got a little more friendly and ended up talking about their past races. “Man,” Keisuke said, “I remember back in Japan I raced this guy who was so well-versed in throttle controls that they called him the ‘God Foot’. I barely beat the guy and his BNR34 Skyline.” “No kidding, huh?” Dru said, “Well there was this one time that I smoked this guy in a Chevelle SS. I beat him by fifteen seconds in a battle at Bethlehem Pennsylvania.” “Y’know what,” Keisuke said, as the group walked down the boardwalk, “You’re not a bad guy after all. I’ve got a question for you, however.” “Go ahead,” Dru said. “Did you know of anyone by the name of Ryousuke?” Dru’s face suddenly changed expression; he had become much more intense. “Why?” he replied. “He’s my brother,” Keisuke stated. More silence as the rest of the group walked ahead and the crowded boardwalk began to thin out. “It’s settled then,” Dru said, “I won’t hold back one bit; not against someone who’s related to my hero.” “How do you know of him?” Keisuke asked. “It was one day in June five years ago,” Dru said, “He came through here and decimated a 1000-horsepower Supra with his 13B-powered Miata in a highway battle out on the Garden State Parkway. It was like a sign when he exploded past the Supra at over 150 mph with me on the sidelines in awe. Afterwards, I bought my 240SX, customized it for racing and began to research everything about Ryousuke Takahashi.” “Then why didn’t you ever hear of me?” Keisuke asked. “I was so focused on Ryousuke,” Dru replied, “That I didn’t even pay attention to your stats.” “Well then,” Keisuke stated, “How about we check out your car?” “Sounds like an idea,” Dru replied as they continued walking down the boardwalk.

Getting off at the Convention Center parking lot, Keisuke got a chance to see the car he would be facing. It was small; some sort of British car as Keisuke could guess to the best of his abilities. The British racing green shimmered in the dusk time sun. A white stripe broke the car down the middle as before, but now it had the number 13 in the middle of a circle that was placed on the stripe. The bumpers, which where carbon fiber, made Keisuke wonder how truly serious his opponent was about his lightening to such an already small car. The top was off, which revealed the 4-point roll cage, black Sparco buckets, and wheel-less steering column (Dru kept the wheel in the trunk). Down the side of the car close to the bottom was a stripe that Keisuke didn’t see the first time he saw the car in Chicago. It was white also, but on the upper stripe was the lettering “COSWORTH TWIN CAM” in bold lettering. As he continued looking down the car, he saw the 4-outlet racing-style exhaust. Looking at the wheels, Keisuke saw some sportier crossdrilled brakes poking through the holes in the wheels The bronze rims were the same design as the ones on Takumi’s AE86. The front wheels had some negative camber, but nothing truly ridiculous like on a VIP car. He thought he saw it all until Dru pulled the carbon-fiber clamshell front clip forward. Under the hood, there was the Cosworth engine. It sat in the engine bay as if it was a jewel with two Tein coilovers and tube control arms serving as guards. The exhaust was a flat ceramic-plated bronze as with the injection stacks. To Keisuke, it was official. “This guy ain’t dicking around at all,” he thought, “Putting this much money into such a car? He must either be an idiot, or a madman behind the wheel.”

As the two sat and marveled at the car, the sound of high-revving engines came in as a crescendo in from Pacific Avenue. “Ah shit!” Dru said, “It’s these guys.” “These guys?” Keisuke repeated in question form. “If it’s who I think it is, then they’re known as the “Proto-Hyphs of Philly. They swear that they are the greatest racers in all of the Delaware Valley. They’ve never even approached me, well that is until tonight.” As soon as he said that, one Suzuki Kaktana and two Kawasaki Ninjas came through, acting as an escort to the big blackl Escalade-frontended van. They stopped their bikes in a very classy fashion, pulling three stoppies right in front of the group. At this time, Dru went over to the side and was making a phone call. Behind the van, there were four high-profile sports cars. The furthest to the left was a pearl white Ferrari 360 Modena. The rims matched the car, and the sounds of some Hip-Hop track were playing from a very loud sound system. The middle left car was a blackberry-colored Nissan Skyline GTR R34 V-spec II. It had all the cliché mods done to it; widebody kit, blowoff valve, nitrous fogger, deep-dish “JDM-tyte” rims, and a ridiculously huge rear wing. The mid-right car was another cliché “JDM-tyte” blood red Mark IV JZA80 Supra. The furthest right car was a dark-blue Lamborghini Diablo SV with a weird set of aftermarket rims on it. The Escalade van pulled up and unloaded its cargo. It was an orange and green Mazda RX8 with a full-blown Super-GT style bodykit on it. The engine was loud, obnoxious and gave Keisuke an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“Yo, Dru!” an obnoxious twenty-something Italian-American man wearing an overload of gold jewelry said getting out of the passenger seat of the van, “You ready to get spanked, buddy?” “With what?” Dru said, looking at the strange Mazda RX8, “That thing?” “Mm-hmm,” the man said, “This’ll shut you the hell up with your little British piece of shit.” “How about you put your money where your Mafioso mouth is, Vinny?” Dru said. At this point, a crowd who responded to every word that fell from these two’s lips surrounded the group. “Y’know what,” Vinny said, as the crowd died down with their “oh shit”s, “Damn”s and “ooooooooooooooh!”s, “I figured that this would be taking it easy on you with my RX8. I could’ve had you run against my 1000-horsepower Supra.” “Puh-leez,” Dru said, spitting on the ground, “That’s the wrong model that you’re racing, bub. You should’ve realized that since you were destroyed by Davey and his A70 in the Pine Barrens five years ago.” “That shit’s ancient history,” Vinny said, trying to save face, “How about you put your money where your mouth is?” “Okay,” Dru said, “How about a circuit race. We start here, run into Cape May, up the parkway, and back here before the fireworks.” “You serious?” Vinny said, laughing, “Well then, let’s start, bucko!”

After the two pulled up to the makeshift line at the end of the boardwalk, Dru looked over to Keisuke with a smile. “Hey,” Dru said, seemingly laid back before the race, “Why don’t you come with me on this race?” “Won’t I be a hindrance to you?” Keisuke replied. “You’ll be my navigator,” Dru said, “And I just want to show you something, too.” “Show me something?” Keisuke wondered as the announcer yelled for the drivers to get into their cars. “You’re taking your boyfriend with you, Dru?” Vinny said, smoking a cigarette. “You think you gave me the handicap,” Dru said, “But it is I who really has the advantage over you.” “W-w-w-whoa,” Vinny said, “Way too fancy-schmancy language for me, buddy!” After getting into their cars, the two began revving their engines as the light was red. It changed, and one got off the line very well. Dru’s Spitfire exploded off the line as Vinny smoked the RX8s tires for at least 75 feet before getting grip. “N-no way!” Keisuke said in shock, “I-It’s like a rocket!” The two headed full-throttle down towards the peninsula of Cape May.

The two cars dodged the heavy holiday shore traffic with ease. As soon as they got to the bridge that went into Cape May, however, the traffic thinned out. This is where the fast RX8 could fly past the Spitfire with ease. It did, and Keisuke watched as it screamed by with the 13B yelling. “His upshifts are terrible,” he thought, “This man is not worthy of driving a rotary!” He looked across at his pilot. “He’s smiling?” Keisuke wondered, looking at Dru carefree countenance as he upshifted into fourth, “How can he be smiling now?” Keisuke saw exactly why; about a ½-mile ahead of him the drawbridge was just beginning to close, and Vinny was slowing his Mazdaspeed-style RX8 down to avoid falling into the ocean. “I see,” Keisuke thought, “He’s gonna blow past him as soon as the drawbridge closes!”

At the drawbridge, Dru flew past Vinny just as the bridge shut. “This guy’s good,” Keisuke said, “The only way he would’ve known what to do was to actually know the bridge’s closing time. He must be some sort of a math whiz to figure out the top speed he had to maintain. It also doesn’t hurt him that he’s got no fear; the bridge is split in two by the toll, and he just flew right by Vinny on the left. This guy; he’s scary.” And Keisuke still hadn’t seen Dru’s true potential; that would have to wait until the Garden State Parkway portion of the race.

“Keisuke-san,” Dru said as the Spitfire began to slow down to allow the RX8 to catch up, “When we get to the freeway, I want you to focus on the speedometer. As of right now, the calculated top speed of that RX8 is 185 mph just based on his flyby earlier.” “Why are you slowing down, Dru?” Keisuke said, “You’ll lose the race.” “AS I was saying,” Dru spoke, not straying from his original statement, “With this car, an odd thing happens after the opponent gets a certain distance away from me.” “What’s that?” Keisuke said. “The engine I have,” dru said, as the headlamps of the RX8 barreled down upon them, “can gain over 50 horsepower at will when I’m over 1000 feet behind someone.” The speedometer read 95 mph as they got onto the parkway. The RX8 was a blur of light as it passed the Spitfire.

“As it is now, my car’s top speed is around 170 mph,” Dru said, smiling, “With the extra 50 horses, it can do 190 easily.” “But won’t I slow you down?” Keisuke wondered. “I’ve already calculated for that incident,” Dru said, upshifting into sixth, “Without you inside, it can do 200 easily.” The car then exploded as soon as Dru mashed the accelerator. A violent surge of power hit Keisuke like a 20-lb sledgehammer, shoving him into his seat. The speedometer needle began its climb “100…110…120,” Keisuke thought, watching the needle jump as if it was a tachometer for his hi-revving FD3S. By the time it hit 150 mph, the small car was about three car lengths behind the RX8.

Keisuke was white with fear. He was inside a small car that was pushing 175 now, and was still accelerating. “It is true,” he thought, “He’s amazing; handling such a small car at these speeds!” The Spitfire then blew past the RX8 about a half-mile from the parkway exit. Before Dru hit the brakes, the Spitfire was up to 181 mph. The brakes came about three seconds later than Vinny’s RX8. “His braking’s even worse than I thought,” Keisuke thought, putting his hand over his face due to the shame that was brought upon the rotary gods by Vinny’s terrible driving. The last half was a full-throttle race down Pacific Avenue into the parking lot. Dru had gotten there a good fifteen seconds before Vinny. Keisuke got out, and was still in shock. “How was that?” Dru said. “It’s official,” Keisuke thought, watching the fireworks, “These will be some insane battles; no doubt about that.”

End of Pt. 2__________________________________>

This post has been edited by Turbo_Levin_13 on May 12 2008, 07:30 PM

GG Dru! You sure showed that poser!

MOAR PLZ!

New chappy, everyone!

Chapter 17: The Scenic Route

10:00 PM; Front Royal entrance of Skyline Drive, Shenandoah, Va.

It was a warm July night as the crowds packed into the park, waiting for the street race. Usually, Shenandoah Park had campers in the boundaries at closing, but the officials stated that there would be a “training exercise” going on in the forest that night. It was actually the start of one of the most memorable street race series known to man. It had already been four months since Keisuke left for the United States, and in the process, he was chased by the cops, involved in a highly illegal over-the-road race and stopped a criminal with a sexy bounty hunter of whom he turned around and broke her heart. Keisuke had also made a new mechanical ally in his grabber blue 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 302, and made some new friends across the country. It had all come down to this, however. Sitting in the light of his Mustang’s high beams looking at the park entrance, he was still wondering if this was part of his brother’s training or if he had veered severely off-course.

It was about fifteen minutes later that Dru came. The sound of the Cosworth Devil Twin Cam crescendoed into the valley as it came closer. The crowd began cheering as they saw the small British sports car pull up to run the race. Dru stepped out, dressed in a Phillies Chase Utley jersey with a fierce look of determination. “His aura,” Keisuke thought trying to keep a poker face demeanor, “It’s really strong. I didn’t notice this the other night. Was he trying to hide his true potential from me?” “Yo,” Dru said to Keisuke, “You ready for this?” “As I’ll ever be,” Keisuke said as he got into his blue Mustang.

The two lined up for the beginning of the race. The crowd, which differed strongly from the composed Japanese race fans, was whooping and hollering. Heavy metal blasted from some car’s expensive sound system. Out of the crowd came Deuce with a large flashlight, who was showboating for the people. “You all ready for the race?” he yelled. They responded with a din of yelling. “Alright then, we’ll start this b*tch when I turn on my flashlight. You two ready?” Both Keisuke and Dru nodded from their cars and began revving their engines. The flashlight turned on, and the two blasted at full speed into the valley.

When Keisuke was looking at the map for this course, he found out that it was over 100 miles long. The section that they were running however was about 5 miles. Its profile was much more hilly and lower than any road Keisuke had run before. The turns were also very high-speed with some mid-speed hairpins thrown in. It was really like a Grand Prix-style touge. First, Keisuke thought he would pass Dru and leave him behind, but what Dru said about the engine when he rode with him made him think again about doing so. “If I get too far ahead of him,” he thought, quickly downshifting into 4th while making a mid-range downhill left turn with Dru only a small distance behind him, “He’ll become much faster. It’s only 50 horsepower, but the power-to-weight ratio will go up so much more that he’ll probably match the acceleration of my Boss. I’ve got to keep him in my sights for now until the mid-speed section.”

“He’s falling for it,” Dru thought, smiling, “He’s gonna try to stay a small distance behind me, hoping that I won’t pass him. He thinks that’s my only trick. When this thing is behind for a good 2 miles, it gains about 25 horses that stays with the engine for the rest of the race. The 1000-ft rule only applies until you pass the opponent. The 2-mile rule works for a good mile after you pass. Well then, let’s do this.” He downshifted into third to take an upward right-hander at over 70 mph; right now was not the time to push it against Keisuke; He’d have to wait for a few more turns to do that.

While Dru sat waiting, Keisuke kept looking back in his rearview. “I know you would be killing me for this, aniki,” Keisuke wondered, “but I’ve gotta keep my distance pretty close. It’s really hard to feel his aura right now. It’s as he’s suppressing it for the meantime. What are you planning, Dru?” The two swung through another uphill mid-speed left-hander. The rear ends of both cars broke free from the boundaries of grip and begun spewing smoke out into the valley from the squealing tires. The two engines also roared in protest to the loss of grip as they regained control. They were performing textbook drifts through each turn as they finished the first two miles of the course.

“Okay, now!” Dru thought, mashing his foot down out of the last turn and upshifting into third. The car just reached a new level of performance that started to make Keisuke worry. Dru was beginning to gain on him at an alarmingly increasing rate. “How,” Keisuke said, looking in his rearview at the headlights that were closing in on him, “How the hell did he catch up so quickly?!” After a half-mile, Keisuke began to notice a faint energy that was growing. “His aura,” Keisuke said to himself, “It’s gotten stronger. Is there something else about that engine that makes it so powerful?” The two continued their battle down the mountain, now in a real competition for the first win.

the writing is outstanding and the story is absolutely driving... But I have to correct something here...

There was no transaxle or torque tube in 91... They didn't move the tran to the rear till the C5 in 97. Even the bad ass ZR-1 used the ZF tranny mounted directly to the LT-5.

Thanks for spotting the error, Wheels84ss. Just corrected it.

Not a problem... I'm pretty good with domestic muscle Great story though... can't wait to get to conclusion...

Nice chappy, good work. Stuff sure is getting intense out there! Though one thing bugs me, you know, staying behind to avoid getting passed. Well, if you're behind, then you are passed. Unless of course, you're referring to one of the Devil Cosworth's rules, then sorry, my mistake.

Another well done chapter. Keep it up!

This battle is gonna be intense! No question about it.

OMG new chapter!

Next round; mullholland Drive. Famed racing grounds of Steve McQueen

Chapter 18: Passed

“We’re at the third mile marker,” someone said over their phone, “Keisuke and Dru were just in a dead heat here.” “Well, you won’t believe it,” the one on the other phone said, “But Keisuke’s just been passed about a half-mile from where you are.” “No way!” the man at the third-mile mark said. It was true; Keisuke Takahashi was passed. However, the terms of the move were still very cloudy even to the people who witnessed it.

* * *
(3.25 miles into the course)

“I’ve just gotta hold on a bit more!” Keisuke said, shifting his Mustang into 5th down the long uphill straight. The green Spitfire was still on Keisuke’s tail, waiting to make a move. “The next turn’s going to be a braking battle,” Keisuke thought to himself, “If I brake just a millisecond slower than him, he’ll pass me. Please say that these Brembo brakes can hold out just a little bit longer!” About 300 feet from the turn, Keisuke began to brake. Dru however was going in so fast that he had to brake further back on the course to avoid flying into the valley below.

As the two cars swung around the corner, Keisuke noticed something strange. “He’s gone?” Keisuke panicked, “No! He’s in my blindspot! Dammit, he’s got me!” In the Spitfire, Dru waited patiently to smash on the gas; do it too soon, and he’d lose power too early, do it too late, and Keisuke might have too much momentum to win. “I’m going out on a limb here,” Dru said, downshifting and swinging the detachable racing wheel to the right, “and pass him at the three-and-a-half mile marker.” As they rounded the corner, Dru saw it shine from the glimmer of their headlights. “Checkmate,” Dru said, smashing down on the gas. The Spitfire roared into life, rushing past Keisuke at a blinding pace. “No!” Keisuke yelled as the green Spitfire flew past him, “I can’t give up!” Keisuke said, watching the square taillights of the Spitfire disappear into the night. He then gunned the engine, and went at a higher rate than he had previously in America. He still wasn’t all-out, as Ryousuke told him never to do so unless he’s in a final do-or-die situation. It was now Keisuke’s job to catch up and pass.

Dru, who just a week ago ran up here for two weeks straight, knew what was next. “It’s the half-mile mid-to-low-speed section after the 4th-mile marker,” the thought, “There, Keisuke’s power won’t matter. It’s my win for now.” When the Spitfire passed the 4th mile marker, Keisuke was still about a second behind. “The power should be cutting out right as soon as I get out of here,” Dru thought, “By then, he ought to be so far behind that it won’t matter how fast he runs in the mid-speed final half mile.”

To Keisuke, this was do-or-die time. He had conserved his tires well for the first half of the course, but started ripping through them in the last mile. “I’m hoping to win in the last half mile,” Keisuke thought to himself braking hard and downshifting into second, “This isn’t over yet; not by a long shot!” The big 302’s supercharger whizzed as he gassed the engine out of the turn. He was beginning to see his rival up ahead. “Even if it’s just for a second,” Keisuke thought while he caught the tail lamps trailing into the next turn, “I can still see him. I’ve just got to see him for more time now as I continue on.”

By the time they got out of the mid-low speed section, the two were only a half-second apart. “Never underestimate a touge driver,” Keisuke said, hoping to still catch a victory. “This is bad,” Dru said, “With this small of a distance between us, I don’t think I can win. I’ve just gotta hope that his tires are worn pretty damn thin.” The two went almost tandem into a wide right-hander. “He’s lost power,” Keisuke thought with more hope coming into the picture for him, “I can pass him!” As they went through the turn, though, Keisuke’s car began to drift closer to the guardrail. “Shit!” he thought, “This is what I feared was gonna happen. I’ve got the power, but no grip whatsoever! Dammit, I shouldn’t have panicked when he was catching up!” The race was now in its last quarter-mile. “Ah, f**k it,” Keisuke said, “Now let’s try to pass him, worn tires or not!” He smashed on the gas at the straightaway hoping to pass him long enough to brake into the turn and still keep the lead.

“He’s lost grip,” Dru stated to himself after seeing the erratic Mustang’s movement, “It’s a straight right now, but the last section of course is a mid-speed right-hander. If he passes me now, he still can’t beat me.” The blue ‘stang passed Dru on his left. His lead then increased to a carlength into the turn. “Not good enough, bud,” Dru said slamming on the brakes, “It’s over.” Keisuke’s car was so out of whack, that the loss of grip had caused him to scrape into the guardrail in a last-ditch effort to win the race. Sparks began to fly as they went into the last 300 feet in a dead heat. Dru passed Keisuke however by half-a-carlength in the end. It was round one to Dru, and now Keisuke was playing catch-up.

Still going great. Keep it up

Round 2's up next. Time to see what happens then.


In other words: MOAR PLZ!

Ask and ye shall receive.

Oh, and btw, I'm going to try and finish this before the beginning of June; I've already got the second chapter done, and am currently writing up the third.

In the future, I'm gonna be working on three fics; Initial Ski, and two possible collabs that I'll keep secret until we post the fics up.

Chapter 18: Mulholland Madness

Two weeks later; Mulholland Drive, Los Angeles

The battle at Skyline Drive had decimated Keisuke. This decimation, however, made him even more determined to come back from behind to win the tournament. He had gone back to LA the next day and met up with Gene and his buddies who helped set up Keisuke’s Mustang for the battle at Mulholland. By the end of the first day, Keisuke had made 50 passes down the mountain. All the data they collected on the first day allowed Gene, Jon and Daley to set up the Mustang for the intense turns of the famed LA highway where the famed Steve McQueen once drove down in his classic Jaguar. By the end of the first week, Keisuke was getting closer to the track record. It seemed that everything was working In his favor for this one.

Every night that Keisuke went out, it seemed that someone in an exotic European supercar wanted to take Keisuke on. He turned all of them down, causing them to chase him down the road in anger and out of disrespect. Keisuke just left them all in the dust. One day however, Keisuke saw some young kid in a white FC, which reminded him of his brother’s Mazda that was slammed into the touge’s stone wall, ending his life. The sight of the white Mazda sparked a fire in Keisuke. “I won’t lose,” Keisuke thought, “This is all part of my brother’s plan, I can feel it. I can’t lose!” By the end of that night, Keisuke shattered the original track record by two seconds. He kept improving up until the day of the race. He was ready to take Dru down hard.

The day of the race; everyone who was a serious car nut in LA (and there were a lot of them) showed up to watch what would be the best race in the Drive’s history. From West Ventura Boulevard to the beginning of Mulholland sat a massive number of spectators on the sidelines. Ironically enough, the cops were too busy with their annual Gala to really even pay attention to the race. Even the local broadcasters played in on the act, stating that Mulholland would be closed due to re-surfacing of the road that night. Some local DJs and TV personalities were there, too. Down the four mile course sat some of the most diverse vehicles in all of LA. You had ’32 rat rod Fords, blown Hemi Cudas, Civics, Corollas, and other tuners, high-roller Mercedes, exuberant Lamborghinis, and elegant Ferraris all lined up down the famed drive. They knew what was going down tonight; one of the greatest street races in LA’s history.

The first to show was Dru in his Spitfire. The engine revved like an angry wasp, ready to sting its final blow to take down its prey. Next was Keisuke in his Boss 302 followed by Gene’s Nismo-tune 350Z, Jon’s red ‘stang, and Daley’s Astro Van with Gene’s uncle’s “Maglio Speed Shop” on the side. The four pulled into the lot. Opening the van, Keisuke and Gene grabbed a computer out of the back. They then began going over technical details involving the best way to beat Dru. Keisuke developed the entire scenario in order for him to get an advantage against the British sports car. It seemed like when Ryousuke died, Keisuke took his brother’s analytical skill with him. This time, Keisuke was prepared for that haunted engine’s tricks.

After the briefing and final checkup of the Mustang, the two cars lined up for the race. “Keisuke,” Dru said, “Since you lost last time, you have control over the rules of the race.” “We’ll start in single file,” Keisuke said, “You can go ahead out front, and I’ll be in the back. If I pass you by the finish line, I win. If you are much further ahead of me at the end of the race, you win. If we are close at the end, we go again. If that does happen, we switch places.” “Sounds fair,” Dru said, trying not to sound shocked by Keisuke’s decision to run behind. The two got into their cars, and waited for the signal. The signaler dropped his hands, and the two were off.

“What are you planning, Keisuke Takahashi?” Dru wondered, as he tried to increase his lead, “When I’m out in front, I don’t have any advantage unless I get angry. Shit, he got me.” He smashed on the brakes as he headed into a hard left-hander, “I bet he’s just conserving his tires, waiting for the end of the course to pass. I should have never underestimated his mind. He has truly outwitted me on this course. Now I’ll show him my skill as I pull away.” After he said that, the car was engulfed in white light. “H-his aura?” Keisuke wondered, still conserving his tires, “It’s visible! There are only two people I know who actually have that happen to them; Takumi’s father and now this kid!” As soon as the aura became visible, the Spitfire began pulling away. “Now I’ll show him what true speed is!” Keisuke thought, pushing the envelope as they rounded a mid-speed right-hander, “No one defeats Takahashi Keisuke in a shutout!”

Looking in his rearview, Dru was stunned to see the ’69 Mustang in his rearview. “He’s damn good!” Dru thought, gassing out of the left-hander, “He must’ve done his homework on this track. Well at this pace, the battle will be decided near the end. If I conserve my energy until that point, we’ll be side-to-side and ready to battle the last quarter mile in a drag race after the turn. I’m counting on you to pull me through this thing!” The Spitfire then began to drift through the turns, with Keisuke following suit. It was a tandem drift battle with both drivers now switching places at each turn. The crowd roared as they swung through the turns, barely missing the guardrail or the solid rock walls.

The battle continued into the area home to the rich and famous. The many celebrities and executives ad heard about the race. Most headed out before the race started, but some decided to set up shop outside their houses and watch the race, using it as an excuse to hold lavish parties. At one of these houses, some famous pop singer who had too much alcohol in her blood, was walking out to her Land Rover to go home. “What the hell are you doing?” someone said. “I’m, going home,” she said in a drunken stupor, “I’ve gotta go home and rest up for my concert!”

Starting up her SUV, she pulled out right in front of Keisuke. “Shit!” he yelled, swinging the Mustang into the dirt to avoid the idiotic drunken starlet. After barely getting away, he was passed by Dru. “Now it’s settled,” Keisuke said, “We’ve got about three-quarters of a mile left, so I’m done conserving my tires! Time to go full-throttle!” At those words, he smashed down on the accelerator, ready to do battle with the infamous Dead Man’s Curve being the battlefield that would either make or break his chances of winning.

This post has been edited by Turbo_Levin_13 on May 22 2008, 07:05 PM

Another nice update. Keep at it.

Hurrah for drunk drivers interfering in the battle


I request MOAR.

This post has been edited by Meteor on May 22 2008, 09:13 PM

Kinda short update, but still all good in da hood.

Chapter 19: Flaws

At this point, both Keisuke and Dru were dead even; Dru behind by a carlength with Keisuke in front. If Keisuke could hold on for a bit longer, he might have a shot at victory. However, he wasn’t sure if the Spitfire had any more tricks up its sleeve. “I can’t fall for any more of his moves, “ Keisuke thought, braking hard. As of right now, Keisuke was braking much later in order to compensate for the lagging heated brakes. Dru, whose car was much lighter, broke much further, but he couldn’t pass Keisuke. “So it’s also fatiguing in the brakes, too,” Keisuke pondered as he took the hard right. Unlike Skyline Drive, Mullholland was a very twisty road much similar to the touge that Keisuke was used to. It was an easy road to run, but it was very hard to master.

The first few times down, Keisuke spun out in a few turns due to he not being used to the muscle car’s weaker braking. His FD (which he horribly missed for both the braking and downforce) would’ve been able to brake at 90 mph into a turn from a good 150 feet away. The lightweight chassis allowed him to do so. The Mustang would take the same kind of curve at the same speed due to the well-built and robust custom suspension, but the mass was too strenuous to make the braking range the same. His Mustang needed the slotted and crossdrilled Super GT style rotors to make sure it came to a complete stop at a red light. Now Keisuke was able to sympathize with GTR owners and their braking issues.

As of right now, they were just a quarter of a mile from the infamous Dead Man’s Curve. Dru was also facing a few problems with his car, too. First off, Dru realized a major weak point of the Spitfire; the weight. Sure the car was under a ton, but that weight could be both a blessing and a burden. It allowed him to accelerate to sixty mile an hour in under five seconds at the lowest horsepower setting. It also allowed him to corner at over 1 G on the skidpad due to the weight, too, but there was a dark side to having a light sports car. When racing in Shenandoah, there was a strong front coming through the valley. A few times, Dru was wishing he had put a few dumbbells in the car to prevent it from being taken into the sky by a rouge gust like a kite. He didn’t even put a GT-style wing on it, because scaffolding would’ve made it look like a wannabe Porsche GT3. He was regretting those words every time a gust hit his car while he was going 50 mph over the speed limit. He saw the Youtube video of the Porsche racer that pulled a backflip due to the wind. He didn’t want to become the first classic battle-ready Spitfire to fly without wings.

The weight also was a problem for Dru if it rained. Even before he built up the Spitfire, his lightweight 240 had a nightmarish incident on Route 73 during a torrential downpour. While making a lane change, Dru hit a puddle and begun hydroplaning. In a heavier car, this would be easy to correct, but by the time Dru corrected it, he was in the opposite lane facing the grille of a black Peterbilt longnose tractor-trailer. He was able to save himself by swerving to the left, but he lost control again and ended up in a drainage ditch. After that, Dru put in a $3000 two-thousand-watt sound system, all-weather tires, and a backseat after he repaired the car in his boss’s body shop. With the Spitfire, he tried to get the weight down because it was a strict racecar for the track; he never had any intentions of running it on the street as a daily driver like his 240.

The other problem was what Dru feared the most before Dead Man’s Curve. His brakes were beginning to give out due to his occasional lack of common sense. “Shit!” he yelled, as he pulled back allowing Keisuke to keep his lead, “I forgot to replace the pads after Skyline Drive!” This was a common thing for Dru; he seemed to forget some sort of major important detail that would eventually come back to bite him in the ass. All Dru needed now was for the pads to wear down to metal and screw up his brakes. They were easy to replace, but he didn’t have time to break them in; the next race was a week away in Tennessee and North Carolina. That would give him only about 1500 miles on the brakes even if he vigorously practiced for the four days he would be down there. “I’m gonna have to!” Dru said angrily, “If I win, I won’t have to worry about the brakes! Ah, shit! Why am I so stupid?!” By this point Keisuke was about five carlengths ahead. When Dru pushed down on the accelerator, the engine roared to a new level that is only reached when the driver is clearly pissed off. “Yes!” Dru thought, “Now I’m ready to decimate you, Keisuke!” The car then exploded faster than it ever had during the race, closing the gap quickly. It was once again a dead heat.

“He closed the gap?” Keisuke thought, shocked because of the dramatic change, “He hasn’t been more than 300 feet behind me the entire race! He must be really pissed, because I’ve never seen it go that fast. It won’t matter if I can block him for a few more turns!” To Keisuke, the race was finished, but just like at Gettysburg during Pickett’s Charge, it ain’t over ‘til it’s over; flaws or no flaws.

This post has been edited by Turbo_Levin_13 on May 25 2008, 06:31 PM

Holy. . Can Dru keep going with those worn brake pads?

Keep going yo.

Chapter 20: Dead Man’s Curve

There were only a few more turns left. Dru stuck to Keisuke like an angry wasp. The Spitfire had gained an extra 100 horsepower due to Dru’s frustration. It was frightfully approaching over 400 horsepower. At those numbers, the lowly Spitfire could do 0-60 as fast as a Ferrari FXX and could pull a top speed that equaled the Lamborghini Diablo. However, the brakes were going on both cars, so Dru couldn’t fully uncork the true power of the car until the last eighth-mile stretch. The car was truly a deathtrap being driven by a suicidal genius.

Keisuke was also beginning to feel the pressure. “I can beat him!” Keisuke said, “It’s going to be a braking battle again, and I’ve got to hold out as long as I possibly can. I’m gonna get as close as I can to the mountain face!” The two flew past the timer, and he was amazed at what he was seeing. “I-Impossible!” He said over the phone, “That’s impossible!” “What is it?” Gene said on the other line. “At the rate they are going,” he said, “Keisuke will have shattered the course record by six seconds!” “Is that so?” Gene spoke again, “How did their brakes look?” “They were glowing red, and it seemed that Keisuke’s front right was sparking when he slowed down going into the curve before Dead Man!” “Okay, thanks for telling me that,” Gene replied, hanging up.

“What’s going on?” Daley queried. “I want you and Jon to go down in the Astro and meet Keisuke at the finish line,” Gene said, walking over to his Z, “It could get pretty hairy on the way down, so watch out for anything odd at Dead Man’s, got it?” “Understood,” they both said in unison as they headed over to the Astro. “This is not good,” Gene said, thinking on the hood of his Z while the Astro puttered down the hill, “I designed the Boss to be used for high-speed runs, not heavy duty mountain pass running. Shit, Ryousuke; I hope that both are okay. I mean, Dru was your friend, right?”

The battle had just about reached it’s explosive climax. The two cars, Keisuke’s blown and bright blue 1969 Mustang Boss 302 and Dru’s possessed Cosworth-powered 1975 Spitfire 1500 rocketed towards Dead Man’s curve. “Okay,” Keisuke said, swinging the car to the right just before the turn, “Wait for it, wait for it, NOW!” He punched on the brakes, and the Mustang began its run through the turn. “C’mon!” Keisuke said, trying to fight the failing brakes, “You can do it!” His brakes seemed to give up however, and Dru’s petite Spitfire was now right next to the big Mustang. “Shit!” Keisuke yelled, “Not good! C’mon, baby! Push it a little bit more! I can’t lose, I CAN’T LOSE!!!” Exiting the turn, it was an eighth mile drag of sheer desperation to the finish. “That’s it!” Keisuke thought with a last glint of hope as he got off the brakes and smashed the gas pedal to the ground, “He may be better with power-to-weight, but I’ve got tons of torque!” As he accelerated out of the turn, Dru started to lose control from his brakes seizing up. The Cossie engine, however, roared to life and broke the brakes loose, causing it to explode forward. The two were now even down to the line. It had become a battle that would be decided by the fates rather than by one driver’s skill.

“They’re roaring down here from Dead Man’s!” Someone yelled at the finish line. “That aura!” Dru said, looking over at Keisuke’s rainbow aura that erupted around the massive car, “He’s so much better than I am! I still can’t lose, though! I won’t! YOU AIN’T GONNA WIN, YOU SONOFAb*tch!” The two cars crossed the line almost at the same time. The verdict came after someone with a camcorder caught the finish; it was Keisuke by a front wheel. The crowd cheered, and enveloped the blue monster in it’s sea of bodies. It still wasn’t over yet. Now it was time for the overtime at the Tail of the Dragon in the South!”