Coast To Coast: The Darkest Hour

Chapter 5: Pain from the Past

5: Pain from the Past

Midnight ignored Ben most of the way to Baste, he ignored Ben’s questions and only glared at Ben when he asked how many times he had gotten caught and escaped.

“Just be quiet already!” Midnight finally growled when Ben asked another question about Midnight’s past.

“Quiet is one thing I am not,” Ben replied, “Besides, why would I want to be quiet when I am in the same vehicle as the top notch street racer?”

“So that I am not completely ticked off when we finally get to where I’m going?”

“I have no problem with that, Midnight, I can deal with you being mad, or you could change the conversation so everyone is happy.”

Midnight glared at Ben and then back at the road. In the distance he could see the sign that read; “Welcome to Baste.”

Midnight slid to a stop in front of the gas station and immediately got out, not giving Ben a chance to move, or even say anything.

“There you are, Midnight, I was wondering when you were going to get here,” Flame hugged Midnight, ignoring the scowl on his face, “What’s wrong?” He asked.

Midnight just put his thumb in the direction of the Mustang.

“I think he means I am the problem, mister,” Ben got out of the car and started walking over.

“Whoa, Midnight, when did you start picking up hitchhiking cops?”

“I didn’t, he was in the car when I got it back, and I didn’t think to check for cops just sitting around.” Midnight started pumping gas into the Mustang’s tank.

“Well, if you didn’t already know, Midnight, I have to say, you are under arrest,” Ben pulled out his pistol.

“I guess a cop never learns, I got away once, I can do it again.”

Flame slipped a phone into Midnight’s jacket’s pocket, “What’s de plan?” He whispered.

“There is no plan,” Midnight whispered back, “Because I’ve been getting annoyed all the way here, I didn’t make one!”

“Great!” Flame gulped, “I’d prefer not to end up in a jail cell for the next fifty years!”

“Let my buddy go and we can talk about me maybe not thrashing you,” Midnight spoke calmly, as if he was the one giving the options.

“Excuse me, but I’m the cop with the gun,” Ben replied.

The pump kicked off and Midnight replaced the cap of the gas tank. He waved at Flame and walked back to the drivers’ door and got in.

Ben slid in beside Midnight and put his gun against Midnight’s side, “Don’t make me shoot you, kid.”

“As you should know, I’m no kid,” Midnight responded and reached for the keys to start up the car.

“Then act like an adult and quit making a stupid decision.”

Midnight looked over at Ben, then at the review mirror. Flame was standing there, concern written all over his face.

“Look, cop, I doubt it will matter to you, but if I don’t win this race, I’m pretty much finished.”

“Finished street racing?” Ben asked.

“No, finished as in dead, six feet below dead.”

“I see. I suppose then you should finish the race, and then get arrested.”