Unleashed

The Tracks (Long)

Pulling to a stop on a dirt road where other cars were parked Harry kills the engine as I throw my leg over the bike trying to get off. My legs felt wobbly and my hair was a mess.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yelled.

He smiled, “I told you it might get bumpy.”

“Bumpy, is an understatement! You hit every damn pothole from my house to here, and you were speeding! This isn’t fast in the furious, you are not Paul Walker on a motorcycle!”

“Did my speeding upset you that much?” he asked.

No “Yes.” I lied.

“Then next time I’ll go slower.” He says as he winks.

“Next time?” I shook my head, “There won’t be a next time. I’ll catch a bus or call my brother to pick me up.” I said as I looked around taking in my sensory for the first time. “Where are we?”

Motioning me to follow him he says, “I’m surprise you don’t remember. Maybe it’s because you came in the other way.”

Looking around as we walked I had no clue where we were, not until I saw the motorcycles.

“Why are we at the tracks?” I asked.

“Because there’s a race tonight and I wanted to see it.” he says.

“And you brought me?”

“Yeah.”

Looking up at him I ask, “Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs, “I wanted to see you.”

I blushed as I turned away from looking at him, to looking around the area, taking in the nearly same scene from when I first came here. There was drinking, people fighting, and racing.

“What is this place?” I ask.

“It’s a getaway.” He says as we head down a hill, “The town officials have no say so here, because it’s not in their jurisdiction. Racing on dirt roads, are illegal in Black water.”

“But you’re technically not in black water?”

He nods, “Exactly which means were not breaking the law.”

Walking past a crowd that was egging on a fight someone pushed into me and Harry grabbed my arm, “Watch it!” he yells reminding me when I first saw him fight at school.

“You know, I’m starting to think that you like being near fights, or at least being shoved by people that are watching.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because,” he says as he slows down his walking, “You tend to get mixed up in them unintentionally.”

Looking back at the crowd I ask, “Why do they do that?”

“Do what?”

“Fight.”

He shrugs, “It’s an order of power. To see who is stronger, who is weaker, who have good skills and who are just wasting time. Everyone here has done it at least twice.”

Turning from the fight as it became too gruesome I say, “Everyone here has fought like that before?”

He nods.

A sense of worry took over as I looked at him and ask, “Everyone like you?”

He slows to a stop as he looks straight ahead of him. At first he didn’t say anything. Watching him stick his hands into his pocket he nods as says, “Yes.”