Deathrun

XIV. Stripping on Camera

I can't fuckin move. 

This stupid banana jumpsuit is constricting me like a snake, a heavy one. It's hot, scratchy, and covered in sweat, blood, as well as a bunch of unidentifiable muddy substances. With gritted teeth I unzip the front ferociously, pulling it down so that my arms are free and my legs are still covered.

Someone whistles down below.

I keep climbing.

Beneath me, there are chants of 'break break break break' as a tank rolls up the hill, about to clear a path for less powerful vehicles. Some trucks have already begun barreling through, and I heave myself up faster, knowing that I won't be able to hang on once the thorns begin crashing down.

One of the curved parts tears at my pant leg, and I suck my teeth as skin is caught on it. Warm, thick, liquid runs slowly down my calf, and I curse to myself to keep going. When I finally reach the top my arms are leaden, trembling, and I can see the branches below me falling due to the tank ripping through.

Run, crawl, scoot, dash over the tops of the huge thorns, their stems as thick as my torso, bobbing with each step. I can't believe it's possible, but the tank is gaining on me. And then I'm falling, a scream being pulled from my throat, tiny knives slicing at my skin as I plummet through the branches-

And land on hard metal.

The tank below me growls, churning steadily, a line of cars trying to push past behind it. How did you even get past the ice? Head swimming, I scramble up, shielding my face as wood rains down from above. Black spots cloud my vision, but I can see the light at the end of the bush.

"What the-" someone yells as I run down the front of the tank, leap onto the ground, and keep running. So far, I'm the only one out.

And the last stretch spread out in front of me

Is spikes

Long and glinting

Erupting from the earth

Lava glopping in pools on either side.

I smile to myself.

Goodbye, tires.

I leap between the spikes, weaving my way in and out, placing my feet carefully as I run so as to not get impaled. People are yelling behind me, angry, rough shouts.

"She has to stay with her vehicle!"

"Not fair!"

"Get her!"

Get her, Jaz.

I shake it off. That is until the first spike comes whizzing my way. I stumble and realize that they're throwing the things... at me. I move faster, zig-zagging between options of shredded feet.

In In In Out Out Out

Breathe

Whiz

I cry out in pain and double over. My side has been cut open, a spike clattering to the floor and rolling into the red magma with a sizzle. I close my eyes, head throbbing, swimming. You're not speared, you can run. I do, I try, I stumble and trip but I run. Transports with heavy tires come rolling after me, crushing the spikes as they go. The race was designed this way for a reason, to benefit all kinds of options.

Just not runners.

In Out In Out

Inhale, gasp, lungs on fire. My thighs have turned to lead, still weighed down by that stupid jumpsuit.

"Screw this," I pant. Off comes the bottom half. I can practically hear the audience scream from outside the stadium as I continue running, listening to the motors roaring behind me. My side is burning, bleeding, and I press a hand to it, fingers hot and sticky.

100 meters

In Out

"Angel run!" Shit, I'm trying. The front of the tank growls behind me, so close I can feel the overheating metal. Saint Merry, I can't feel my legs. I push harder, pumping my arms, wind ripping my tangled hair as my eyes water and my feet go hot with friction.

Not just friction, the lava laughs at me.

In

There it is

The white line, the freedom

I jump

Cross

Collapse

Out