Post by cattamer on May 9, 2013 14:40:04 GMT -5
Preface
Before I begin on this story, I should explain a few things.
In the story, there are two main factions: Street Racers and Cops/police. In the story, street racing is the worst possible crime you can do. Street racers often did do things to deserve the bad treatment all street racers received, but not all. In fact, some didn’t even want to continue Street racing, but were forced to face the fact that if they stopped, they’d face ether death, or jail. So they continued.
This story is about a street racer, called Midnight. This tells his story.
Chapter 1: The Crash Site
Red and blue lights flash in the night, below a bridge. Near a river, and close to the underneath of the bridge was a pile up of cars. The night had been cold, with sheets of ice on the road. The pile up was caused by A street racer’s car going out of control, and crashed into the side guard of the road. Cars had piled up onto it when the drivers, speeding, unheeding the warning of the lights of the car crash, and of the slippery roads, tried to zip around the over turned car, and crashed into it. The crash site had become very big by the time Four O’clock came around.
Ambulances and police cars cover the space near the pile up. The chief of the police stands nearby with a companion, a person known for his kindness to the street racers, and a desire for them to be treated fairly. The chief looks over at the man and says “well Ben, looks like this morning we have an early start. Our cruisers have been chasing that car for two days now.” The chief indicated the street racer’s car, upside down, windshield smashed. “I don’t think our work is over chief. There isn’t anyone in that car.” The chief looked at the car. “I doubt the street racer could have gone far.” His voice trailed off.
A figure leaned against the side of the bridge, watching the ant like men scurry around the pile up. He shivered as the wind blew a gust threw his quite worn and tore up jacket. The moon’s light faded, as the black clouds covered it. Rain started to fall, but the figure didn’t seem to care. The figure watched a couple of the ambulances drive away, sirens going. He turned, walked to the river side and sank down, setting the side of his face against the wall. He would rest a few minutes, and then get away from here, before the cops got on his trail.
The street racer awoke with a start as a light shown on him. He had drifted off to sleep instead of just resting for a couple minutes. He soon saw the source of the light. A police officer was holding a flashlight on him. The Street Racer wasn’t sure what to do. There was nowhere to run. No escape, other than over the side wall of the bridge. The ice cold water was not too inviting. He gripped the top of the wall with his gloved hand. His gloves had seen many better days, but he hadn’t got any new ones, the police had been too close on his track to loiter.
Ben approached, slowly, not sure what would happen. Ben could see that this person was a little scared of him. ‘Is this the street racer that disappeared from the crash site?’ Ben wondered. Ben had to watch the street racer, and the ground. The ground was quite slippery. The street racer moved, and Ben was kicked off his feet by a jolting blow to his leg by the street racer’s foot. The street racer tried running, but Ben got up, pulling his pistol “stay right where you are, or I’ll shoot!” Ben said, he had no wish to shoot this guy, but he’d fire a warning shot if he had to. The street racer stopped, and just stood there against the wall, not wanting a bullet threw him, again.
An hour past, without anyone moving, then patrol cars arrived, blocking both ends of the bridges. Cops started moving in. The street racer retreated to on top of the wall. He glanced over the side, just then, a spot light shone out and was on him. Ben was glad the spot light was there, it was hard to keep track of a person dressed in black on a dark night. Ben was soaked from the rain, and shivered. The police were moving in, and the street racer had nowhere to go. Ben jumped forward, grabbing the street racer’s jacket. The street racer tried getting out of Ben’s grasp, and slipped. Ben was jerked over the edge by the sudden lurch of the street racer going over the side.
Ben heard a shot, then he felt the ice water rush over him. The street racer thrashed to free himself from Ben’s hold as they surfaced. Ben held on, and grabbed ahold of his arm with his other hand. The street racer tried going under, to escape, but Ben kept him at the surface. The street racer stopped struggling and started coughing when a wave from the struggle got inhaled. Ben started swimming to the shore, dragging the street racer along “you know you could help!” Ben yelled at him. When they got to the shore, Ben let the street racer go. The street racer on hands and knees coughed, and then as he saw a couple police cars coming their way, tried jumping back into the water. “Oh no you don’t!” Ben exclaimed, grabbing him. The street racer was soon pinned down and hand cuffed.
After a short talk with the two police officers, Ben pulled the street racer to his feet. Ben was cold, but the car was already warmed up. The street racer tried jerking away a couple of times, but Ben held on to him, even though he was almost jerked off his feet a couple of times. The street racer reluctantly got in the car, much to his own surprise he was in the front seat. Ben walked around and got in the driver’s side, and before he did anything, he made sure the street racer had no way to get out of the car. When Ben turned out of the lane onto the road to the police station, he noticed the blood on the side of the street racer. ‘So that was the shot I heard? I wonder who fired. I will give them a talking to once I find out whom. The chief will probably do something about it, since I could have been the one to get shot. Why did they fire anyway? I had him firmly.’ Ben was silent in his thoughts.
When Ben pulled up at the station, he looked over at the street racer, who had been as quiet as a mouse. Ben got out, and let the street racer out of the car. The street racer tried bolting, and ended up on the ground. “How come you keep trying that same trick?” Ben asked him, and got no reply. Ben took the street racer into the station, and let him loose in a cell. “You stay there while I go report.” Ben received a glare that sent a shiver down his spine. Ben walked away from the cell, and up the short flight of stairs to the office level. The chief looked up when Ben came in “well Ben, looks like you turned into a drowned rat. What happened?” Ben sat down in a chair, and proceeded to tell him about his capture, and his dunking. “He hasn’t said a signal word. I’m not sure who he is or if he had any connection with the crash.” Ben finished. The chief put down the papers that he had been working on. “So, the question is, what do we do with him?”
Chapter 2: A Choice
The next morning arrived, with the street racer still in his cell. He looked up when the cell door opened. Ben stepped in, and shut the door behind him. Ben crossed his arms and took a good look at his prisoner. The street racer’s eyes were a purple tint, his hair, which was long enough to cover his eyes, was black. He had several scars on his face. “You ready to say anything?” Ben asked, but received no reply. “Oh come on, don’t play silent with me!” Ben moaned. He hated the silent game, but what could he do about it?
Half an hour came and went, still no spoken word from the street racer. “Okay, well, how about you tell me who you are.” Ben said, getting quite bored with the silence. The street racer ignored him. “Okay then, I am supposing that I should call you something other than just plain ‘Street Racer’. Hmm, what should I call you?” The street racer glared at him “stif et cep.” He half snarled. “English?” Ben asked. ‘At least I got some words out of him.’ Ben thought. The street racer glared and then ignored him. Ben got up and went out of the cell, to go see if he could find out the translation.
“What?” The chief asked in surprise “he’s a prisoner, and he told you to stuff it?” The chief was evidently mad that the street racer had told Ben to stuff it. “So what all did he say? Anything other than ‘Stuff it’?” The chief sat down, trying to calm down. “The only thing he said was ‘stif et cep’, which I found out was ‘stuff it, cop’. We should be thankful he said something.” Ben finished quietly. “I suppose so.” The chief replied.
The street racer finally looked around his cell. It was secure, no escape. “Great.” He muttered. He didn’t want to stay in a jail cell for weeks on end. He got up as he heard footsteps approaching. The cell door opened and the cop who had caught him, and another cop, who looked like he was the chief of the station. “I’m going to cut to the chase,” the chief spoke up “ether you start talking in English, or you’ll be here an awful long time. And by long, I mean long.” The street racer crossed his arms and looked defiant. “What do you want to talk about? The weather?” He said half scornfully, in a quite bratty tone. “So you can speak English, you’ve just been a brat and hasn’t wanted to.” The chief growled. “Now, what’s your name?” The street racer uncrossed his arms “I’m not telling you anything, so how about you leave me alone, and how about leaving the door open on your way out.” He glared. “You’re quite the sassy and bratty little street racing kid.” The chief snapped. The street racers’ eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not a kid!” He snapped. Ben stepped back, and went out of the cell when his phone rang. “Helgo?”
The chief glared at the street racer. “You’re one bratty kid, aren’t you?” He snarled. “What’s your name again?” The chief was trying to trick him. “You know, you could use your head, and remember I told you I’m not telling anything.” The street racer glared “and I told you, I’m not a kid.” The chief thought for a minute, then replied “then how old are you?” The street racer advanced, carefully “how old do you think?” The chief was a little worried at the street racers’ advance. “I don’t have a clue” he said.
Ben turned around quite quickly when he heard a crash. The chief was against the wall, and the street racer was standing right outside the door to the cell. “Oh no, um, sorry got to go.” Ben hung up and pulling out his gun, advanced. The street racer glared at him, and then looked at the enraged chief “If you ever do that again, I will have you shot!” The chief yelled at the street racer “like I really care.” The street racer replied quietly. “Get back in your cell.” A couple of police officers were coming up. The street racer slowly and reluctantly went back in the cell.
“What? You want to send him to a street racer jail? We don’t even know for sure if he is one of them.” Ben protested. “Do you have a better Idea?” The chief asked. “Yes. I do. Find someone who will take him on as a parole. You know, like I did with Matt and Kam.” Ben replied. The chief smiled “if you can find one, sure Ben, but it’s hard to find someone who will take in a supposed street racer.” Ben looked grave “you have a point there.” He said thoughtfully. “Maybe I could take him on, Matt is more of a help then a parole, and he’s on his last year.” The chief opened the lid to the Police Laptop, and while it was loading, said “you know, you have to get that kid to agree to your plan before you carry it out. And you have to get him to sign this.” The chief tapped his finger on the street racer and police agreement for parole. “I wonder if he’s in here.” The chief muttered to himself, while searching through the thousands of supposed street racers “by the way, Ben, did you ever find out wither this ‘Midnight’ myth had any grounds in it? I doubt there is such a person. They say he has nine lives like a cat!”
The street racer had his eyes closed when the cell door opened again. He opened his eyes and looked up to see a man, with his arms crossed. “You going to come willingly, or do I have to use force?” The man spoke up. “Depends where you are wanting to go.” The street racer replied. “You’ll see when we get there.” The reply came. Seeing that resistance would get him nowhere nice, the street racer got up, and let himself be hand cuffed and led out. He knew full well he could un-hand cuff himself whenever he pleased.
“We meet again.” The chief said grimly as the street racer was shoved in the door. “Watch who you’re shoving.” The street racer growled at the guard. The guard however, ignored him. “Sit.” The chief said. The street racer sat in the chair the chief indicated. “Now, I give you a few choices. Choose wisely, for it’s your own fate you are choosing. Which would you prefer, jail, or parole.” The street racer thought a moment “it really depends on the jail, and who the parole officer is.” He finally said. “Ben has kindly offered to parole you.” The street racer looked at Ben, evidently wondering whether or not to accept the offer. With parole, chances of escape might appear. “By the way,” the chief interrupted his thoughts, “you have to sign this for parole.” He shoved the paper at the street racer. “We’ll give you twenty-four hours to decide.”
Chapter 3: Saved by An Outlaw
“I doubt he will accept having to sign that paper, after all, if I were him, I’d say no. Who knows what kind of tricks we might do.” Ben and the chief walked down the hall, Ben talking his thoughts out-loud. The chief laughed “Ben, you think like a street racer some times, don’t you.” Ben joined the laugh. “The way to catch the mouse is to be a mouse.” He finished as they walked in the door. The street racer heard ‘be a mouse’, and he was wondering why a cop would be a mouse. “So, have you decided yet?” The chief evidently was tired of dealing with this person. “I’ll take the parole, but I’m not signing anything. I won’t promise anything, since your promises are empty lies to me.” The street racer watched Ben and the chief for any sign of agreement or disagreement. “And what makes you think we could agree to that, not knowing a thing about you?” The street racer shrugged in reply to Ben’s question. “Ben, could I speak to you for a minute?” Ben and the chief withdrew from the room.
The street racer looked up when a couple guards came in. They grabbed him by the arms and pulled him to his feet. He wasn’t sure wither to fight or go along quietly. He decided he’d play along for a little bit. They took him outside, and over to a car, the door was opened and he got in. He could, if he wanted, un-cuff himself at any moment. He looked over at the drivers’ seat, and was surprised to see the cop who had caught him. He guessed he was going to a jail.
“So, do you have any ideas or questions to where we are going?” Ben asked the street racer. When silence answered him, he sighed. ‘Guess this guy is going to be a lot harder than Jade was.’ Ben glanced at the street racer, who had his eyes closed. ‘Guess he was tired,’ Ben focused on the road. An hour or so passed, and then Ben heard a slight click. He glanced at the street racer, who was looking at the door. Ben guessed something was up, and pulled over, pulling his gun out as well “I’m warning you, don’t you be doing anything.” The street racer looked at him and his gun, and pulling his hands out from behind his back, tossed the hand cuffs at him, then he sat back.
After a short silence the street racer spoke. “Did you think that I’d keep those things on?” He asked. “I didn’t know you could un-fasten them.” Ben said quietly. The street racer looked at him, and in the light, Ben could see the blood on his lip. Ben put his gun away and reached forward, to see if he was okay, the street racer blocked with his arm. “Aright then.” Ben said, taking his hand away. Ben started back on the road. “What jail are you taking me to?” The street racer asked, much to Ben’s surprise. “We’re not going to a jail.” Ben replied. The street racer looked up, and looked at him suspiciously again. “We’re headed to my ranch. It’s a beautiful place out in the country.” The street racer relaxed a little bit.
“By the way,” Ben said after fifteen minutes of silence. “The name’s Ben.” The street racer swallowed, and then looked at him “why are you doing this?” he asked. “Doing what?” Ben glanced over; the glare the street racer had given him was gone. “Taking me to your ranch, not knowing anything, for all you know I could be a murderer.” The last word he said with a little bit of uneasiness. “I know, I keep doing this same mistake. Want me to turn around?” Ben half smiled, Jade had done the same thing. “I never said that I was upset. I just want to know why. You’re a cop, your duty is to catch street racers, so how come you’re so laid back?” Ben tried not to laugh. “You never met a kind cop?” He asked. The street racer looked at the road “I did once.” He said quietly.
“Well, now you’ve met another one. Oh, by the way, you’re not really supposed to be un-cuffed till you sign this.” Ben set a paper next to the street racer. “I told you I am not signing anything!” He snapped. “Alright, alright! I just thought you may want to look at it. No one’s forcing you to sign it; all it says is that you promise to give me a chance. You give me and chance, and I give you a chance. A chance at quitting street racing.” Ben said, watching a couple cars zip by. “Great, there goes a speeder.” Ben turned on his lights and proceeded to go after one of the cars, whose driver was speeding quite far above the speed limit. The car pulled over once the driver saw they had been caught. Ben pulled up behind the car. “Will you do both of us a favor and stay here?” Ben asked the street racer. The street racer nodded, and Ben got out.
The street racer watched, and then recognized the vehicle. The street racer quietly opened the door. The other cars’ door suddenly opened, slamming into Ben. Ben hit the ground, and a man got out of the vehicle, smirking. “Well, cop, say good-bye to your life.” The man cocked his gun. “You won’t get away with shooting a police officer!” Ben snapped at him. Ben heard a foot hit the back of the man’s car, and as the man turned to find out what the noise was, the street racers’ shoe hit the gun. The gun flew, and the street racer landed on his feet. The man’s mouth was open, then he shut it, and snarled “traitor.” The street racer turned around, as Ben got to his feet, pulling his gun out. “Mister, you are under arrest.”
Chapter 4: Surrender, Trust and Friendship
After the police cars took the man in, Ben turned to the street racer, who was sitting against the passenger side of Ben’s cruiser. Ben held his hand out to him for him to get up. “You saved my life, and I’m grateful for it.” Ben said. The street racer looked at Ben’s hand. He slowly put his hand up, and took Ben’s hand.
More coming. I'm writing :3
Before I begin on this story, I should explain a few things.
In the story, there are two main factions: Street Racers and Cops/police. In the story, street racing is the worst possible crime you can do. Street racers often did do things to deserve the bad treatment all street racers received, but not all. In fact, some didn’t even want to continue Street racing, but were forced to face the fact that if they stopped, they’d face ether death, or jail. So they continued.
This story is about a street racer, called Midnight. This tells his story.
Chapter 1: The Crash Site
Red and blue lights flash in the night, below a bridge. Near a river, and close to the underneath of the bridge was a pile up of cars. The night had been cold, with sheets of ice on the road. The pile up was caused by A street racer’s car going out of control, and crashed into the side guard of the road. Cars had piled up onto it when the drivers, speeding, unheeding the warning of the lights of the car crash, and of the slippery roads, tried to zip around the over turned car, and crashed into it. The crash site had become very big by the time Four O’clock came around.
Ambulances and police cars cover the space near the pile up. The chief of the police stands nearby with a companion, a person known for his kindness to the street racers, and a desire for them to be treated fairly. The chief looks over at the man and says “well Ben, looks like this morning we have an early start. Our cruisers have been chasing that car for two days now.” The chief indicated the street racer’s car, upside down, windshield smashed. “I don’t think our work is over chief. There isn’t anyone in that car.” The chief looked at the car. “I doubt the street racer could have gone far.” His voice trailed off.
A figure leaned against the side of the bridge, watching the ant like men scurry around the pile up. He shivered as the wind blew a gust threw his quite worn and tore up jacket. The moon’s light faded, as the black clouds covered it. Rain started to fall, but the figure didn’t seem to care. The figure watched a couple of the ambulances drive away, sirens going. He turned, walked to the river side and sank down, setting the side of his face against the wall. He would rest a few minutes, and then get away from here, before the cops got on his trail.
The street racer awoke with a start as a light shown on him. He had drifted off to sleep instead of just resting for a couple minutes. He soon saw the source of the light. A police officer was holding a flashlight on him. The Street Racer wasn’t sure what to do. There was nowhere to run. No escape, other than over the side wall of the bridge. The ice cold water was not too inviting. He gripped the top of the wall with his gloved hand. His gloves had seen many better days, but he hadn’t got any new ones, the police had been too close on his track to loiter.
Ben approached, slowly, not sure what would happen. Ben could see that this person was a little scared of him. ‘Is this the street racer that disappeared from the crash site?’ Ben wondered. Ben had to watch the street racer, and the ground. The ground was quite slippery. The street racer moved, and Ben was kicked off his feet by a jolting blow to his leg by the street racer’s foot. The street racer tried running, but Ben got up, pulling his pistol “stay right where you are, or I’ll shoot!” Ben said, he had no wish to shoot this guy, but he’d fire a warning shot if he had to. The street racer stopped, and just stood there against the wall, not wanting a bullet threw him, again.
An hour past, without anyone moving, then patrol cars arrived, blocking both ends of the bridges. Cops started moving in. The street racer retreated to on top of the wall. He glanced over the side, just then, a spot light shone out and was on him. Ben was glad the spot light was there, it was hard to keep track of a person dressed in black on a dark night. Ben was soaked from the rain, and shivered. The police were moving in, and the street racer had nowhere to go. Ben jumped forward, grabbing the street racer’s jacket. The street racer tried getting out of Ben’s grasp, and slipped. Ben was jerked over the edge by the sudden lurch of the street racer going over the side.
Ben heard a shot, then he felt the ice water rush over him. The street racer thrashed to free himself from Ben’s hold as they surfaced. Ben held on, and grabbed ahold of his arm with his other hand. The street racer tried going under, to escape, but Ben kept him at the surface. The street racer stopped struggling and started coughing when a wave from the struggle got inhaled. Ben started swimming to the shore, dragging the street racer along “you know you could help!” Ben yelled at him. When they got to the shore, Ben let the street racer go. The street racer on hands and knees coughed, and then as he saw a couple police cars coming their way, tried jumping back into the water. “Oh no you don’t!” Ben exclaimed, grabbing him. The street racer was soon pinned down and hand cuffed.
After a short talk with the two police officers, Ben pulled the street racer to his feet. Ben was cold, but the car was already warmed up. The street racer tried jerking away a couple of times, but Ben held on to him, even though he was almost jerked off his feet a couple of times. The street racer reluctantly got in the car, much to his own surprise he was in the front seat. Ben walked around and got in the driver’s side, and before he did anything, he made sure the street racer had no way to get out of the car. When Ben turned out of the lane onto the road to the police station, he noticed the blood on the side of the street racer. ‘So that was the shot I heard? I wonder who fired. I will give them a talking to once I find out whom. The chief will probably do something about it, since I could have been the one to get shot. Why did they fire anyway? I had him firmly.’ Ben was silent in his thoughts.
When Ben pulled up at the station, he looked over at the street racer, who had been as quiet as a mouse. Ben got out, and let the street racer out of the car. The street racer tried bolting, and ended up on the ground. “How come you keep trying that same trick?” Ben asked him, and got no reply. Ben took the street racer into the station, and let him loose in a cell. “You stay there while I go report.” Ben received a glare that sent a shiver down his spine. Ben walked away from the cell, and up the short flight of stairs to the office level. The chief looked up when Ben came in “well Ben, looks like you turned into a drowned rat. What happened?” Ben sat down in a chair, and proceeded to tell him about his capture, and his dunking. “He hasn’t said a signal word. I’m not sure who he is or if he had any connection with the crash.” Ben finished. The chief put down the papers that he had been working on. “So, the question is, what do we do with him?”
Chapter 2: A Choice
The next morning arrived, with the street racer still in his cell. He looked up when the cell door opened. Ben stepped in, and shut the door behind him. Ben crossed his arms and took a good look at his prisoner. The street racer’s eyes were a purple tint, his hair, which was long enough to cover his eyes, was black. He had several scars on his face. “You ready to say anything?” Ben asked, but received no reply. “Oh come on, don’t play silent with me!” Ben moaned. He hated the silent game, but what could he do about it?
Half an hour came and went, still no spoken word from the street racer. “Okay, well, how about you tell me who you are.” Ben said, getting quite bored with the silence. The street racer ignored him. “Okay then, I am supposing that I should call you something other than just plain ‘Street Racer’. Hmm, what should I call you?” The street racer glared at him “stif et cep.” He half snarled. “English?” Ben asked. ‘At least I got some words out of him.’ Ben thought. The street racer glared and then ignored him. Ben got up and went out of the cell, to go see if he could find out the translation.
“What?” The chief asked in surprise “he’s a prisoner, and he told you to stuff it?” The chief was evidently mad that the street racer had told Ben to stuff it. “So what all did he say? Anything other than ‘Stuff it’?” The chief sat down, trying to calm down. “The only thing he said was ‘stif et cep’, which I found out was ‘stuff it, cop’. We should be thankful he said something.” Ben finished quietly. “I suppose so.” The chief replied.
The street racer finally looked around his cell. It was secure, no escape. “Great.” He muttered. He didn’t want to stay in a jail cell for weeks on end. He got up as he heard footsteps approaching. The cell door opened and the cop who had caught him, and another cop, who looked like he was the chief of the station. “I’m going to cut to the chase,” the chief spoke up “ether you start talking in English, or you’ll be here an awful long time. And by long, I mean long.” The street racer crossed his arms and looked defiant. “What do you want to talk about? The weather?” He said half scornfully, in a quite bratty tone. “So you can speak English, you’ve just been a brat and hasn’t wanted to.” The chief growled. “Now, what’s your name?” The street racer uncrossed his arms “I’m not telling you anything, so how about you leave me alone, and how about leaving the door open on your way out.” He glared. “You’re quite the sassy and bratty little street racing kid.” The chief snapped. The street racers’ eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not a kid!” He snapped. Ben stepped back, and went out of the cell when his phone rang. “Helgo?”
The chief glared at the street racer. “You’re one bratty kid, aren’t you?” He snarled. “What’s your name again?” The chief was trying to trick him. “You know, you could use your head, and remember I told you I’m not telling anything.” The street racer glared “and I told you, I’m not a kid.” The chief thought for a minute, then replied “then how old are you?” The street racer advanced, carefully “how old do you think?” The chief was a little worried at the street racers’ advance. “I don’t have a clue” he said.
Ben turned around quite quickly when he heard a crash. The chief was against the wall, and the street racer was standing right outside the door to the cell. “Oh no, um, sorry got to go.” Ben hung up and pulling out his gun, advanced. The street racer glared at him, and then looked at the enraged chief “If you ever do that again, I will have you shot!” The chief yelled at the street racer “like I really care.” The street racer replied quietly. “Get back in your cell.” A couple of police officers were coming up. The street racer slowly and reluctantly went back in the cell.
“What? You want to send him to a street racer jail? We don’t even know for sure if he is one of them.” Ben protested. “Do you have a better Idea?” The chief asked. “Yes. I do. Find someone who will take him on as a parole. You know, like I did with Matt and Kam.” Ben replied. The chief smiled “if you can find one, sure Ben, but it’s hard to find someone who will take in a supposed street racer.” Ben looked grave “you have a point there.” He said thoughtfully. “Maybe I could take him on, Matt is more of a help then a parole, and he’s on his last year.” The chief opened the lid to the Police Laptop, and while it was loading, said “you know, you have to get that kid to agree to your plan before you carry it out. And you have to get him to sign this.” The chief tapped his finger on the street racer and police agreement for parole. “I wonder if he’s in here.” The chief muttered to himself, while searching through the thousands of supposed street racers “by the way, Ben, did you ever find out wither this ‘Midnight’ myth had any grounds in it? I doubt there is such a person. They say he has nine lives like a cat!”
The street racer had his eyes closed when the cell door opened again. He opened his eyes and looked up to see a man, with his arms crossed. “You going to come willingly, or do I have to use force?” The man spoke up. “Depends where you are wanting to go.” The street racer replied. “You’ll see when we get there.” The reply came. Seeing that resistance would get him nowhere nice, the street racer got up, and let himself be hand cuffed and led out. He knew full well he could un-hand cuff himself whenever he pleased.
“We meet again.” The chief said grimly as the street racer was shoved in the door. “Watch who you’re shoving.” The street racer growled at the guard. The guard however, ignored him. “Sit.” The chief said. The street racer sat in the chair the chief indicated. “Now, I give you a few choices. Choose wisely, for it’s your own fate you are choosing. Which would you prefer, jail, or parole.” The street racer thought a moment “it really depends on the jail, and who the parole officer is.” He finally said. “Ben has kindly offered to parole you.” The street racer looked at Ben, evidently wondering whether or not to accept the offer. With parole, chances of escape might appear. “By the way,” the chief interrupted his thoughts, “you have to sign this for parole.” He shoved the paper at the street racer. “We’ll give you twenty-four hours to decide.”
Chapter 3: Saved by An Outlaw
“I doubt he will accept having to sign that paper, after all, if I were him, I’d say no. Who knows what kind of tricks we might do.” Ben and the chief walked down the hall, Ben talking his thoughts out-loud. The chief laughed “Ben, you think like a street racer some times, don’t you.” Ben joined the laugh. “The way to catch the mouse is to be a mouse.” He finished as they walked in the door. The street racer heard ‘be a mouse’, and he was wondering why a cop would be a mouse. “So, have you decided yet?” The chief evidently was tired of dealing with this person. “I’ll take the parole, but I’m not signing anything. I won’t promise anything, since your promises are empty lies to me.” The street racer watched Ben and the chief for any sign of agreement or disagreement. “And what makes you think we could agree to that, not knowing a thing about you?” The street racer shrugged in reply to Ben’s question. “Ben, could I speak to you for a minute?” Ben and the chief withdrew from the room.
The street racer looked up when a couple guards came in. They grabbed him by the arms and pulled him to his feet. He wasn’t sure wither to fight or go along quietly. He decided he’d play along for a little bit. They took him outside, and over to a car, the door was opened and he got in. He could, if he wanted, un-cuff himself at any moment. He looked over at the drivers’ seat, and was surprised to see the cop who had caught him. He guessed he was going to a jail.
“So, do you have any ideas or questions to where we are going?” Ben asked the street racer. When silence answered him, he sighed. ‘Guess this guy is going to be a lot harder than Jade was.’ Ben glanced at the street racer, who had his eyes closed. ‘Guess he was tired,’ Ben focused on the road. An hour or so passed, and then Ben heard a slight click. He glanced at the street racer, who was looking at the door. Ben guessed something was up, and pulled over, pulling his gun out as well “I’m warning you, don’t you be doing anything.” The street racer looked at him and his gun, and pulling his hands out from behind his back, tossed the hand cuffs at him, then he sat back.
After a short silence the street racer spoke. “Did you think that I’d keep those things on?” He asked. “I didn’t know you could un-fasten them.” Ben said quietly. The street racer looked at him, and in the light, Ben could see the blood on his lip. Ben put his gun away and reached forward, to see if he was okay, the street racer blocked with his arm. “Aright then.” Ben said, taking his hand away. Ben started back on the road. “What jail are you taking me to?” The street racer asked, much to Ben’s surprise. “We’re not going to a jail.” Ben replied. The street racer looked up, and looked at him suspiciously again. “We’re headed to my ranch. It’s a beautiful place out in the country.” The street racer relaxed a little bit.
“By the way,” Ben said after fifteen minutes of silence. “The name’s Ben.” The street racer swallowed, and then looked at him “why are you doing this?” he asked. “Doing what?” Ben glanced over; the glare the street racer had given him was gone. “Taking me to your ranch, not knowing anything, for all you know I could be a murderer.” The last word he said with a little bit of uneasiness. “I know, I keep doing this same mistake. Want me to turn around?” Ben half smiled, Jade had done the same thing. “I never said that I was upset. I just want to know why. You’re a cop, your duty is to catch street racers, so how come you’re so laid back?” Ben tried not to laugh. “You never met a kind cop?” He asked. The street racer looked at the road “I did once.” He said quietly.
“Well, now you’ve met another one. Oh, by the way, you’re not really supposed to be un-cuffed till you sign this.” Ben set a paper next to the street racer. “I told you I am not signing anything!” He snapped. “Alright, alright! I just thought you may want to look at it. No one’s forcing you to sign it; all it says is that you promise to give me a chance. You give me and chance, and I give you a chance. A chance at quitting street racing.” Ben said, watching a couple cars zip by. “Great, there goes a speeder.” Ben turned on his lights and proceeded to go after one of the cars, whose driver was speeding quite far above the speed limit. The car pulled over once the driver saw they had been caught. Ben pulled up behind the car. “Will you do both of us a favor and stay here?” Ben asked the street racer. The street racer nodded, and Ben got out.
The street racer watched, and then recognized the vehicle. The street racer quietly opened the door. The other cars’ door suddenly opened, slamming into Ben. Ben hit the ground, and a man got out of the vehicle, smirking. “Well, cop, say good-bye to your life.” The man cocked his gun. “You won’t get away with shooting a police officer!” Ben snapped at him. Ben heard a foot hit the back of the man’s car, and as the man turned to find out what the noise was, the street racers’ shoe hit the gun. The gun flew, and the street racer landed on his feet. The man’s mouth was open, then he shut it, and snarled “traitor.” The street racer turned around, as Ben got to his feet, pulling his gun out. “Mister, you are under arrest.”
Chapter 4: Surrender, Trust and Friendship
After the police cars took the man in, Ben turned to the street racer, who was sitting against the passenger side of Ben’s cruiser. Ben held his hand out to him for him to get up. “You saved my life, and I’m grateful for it.” Ben said. The street racer looked at Ben’s hand. He slowly put his hand up, and took Ben’s hand.
More coming. I'm writing :3
