Sonder

Chapter 7

After some music and homework at his local library, Nick is reclined in his car, "standby" mode. The book Slaughterhouse-Five is housing his hands in his lap.

An alien flood of strobing lights fills the cab and brings Nick out of standby. Corey's ford Taurus is flashing its eyes and snorting.

"Beat you to your house!" Corey yells out his window.

A bit foggy, Nick hardly knows where he is. But his hands and feet have already responded.

"Shut your mouth when you're talkin' to me!"

[See attached maps, Figures 7.1, 7.2]

The two sedans, as old as the hellions operating them, groan and wobble through the empty lot with its parking lines and titanic lights pulsing above and below. The traffic light turns amber, only causing the two boats to accelerate into their parallel left-hand turn.

The longest stretch of asphalt in the city extends 5 miles due north. The cars lick the road with their incandescent lamps. School zones, parks, shopping centers, residential centers, gravel pits, and slaughterhouses are all ahead. But, it's nighttime. All the rules are off.

Engine for engine, the Buick doesn't stand a chance against its younger cousin with the extra .5 liters of compression and combustion space. The Buick will need to cheat a little. Before reaching 50 miles an hour, Nick bends right down and then up a hill bearing northeast. He gives Corey a farewell bird and Corey brushes it away with a smug flick of his wrist.

Each driver wills the traffic lights to favor their individually anticipated routes. The Taurus tears down 3 miles, taking one right and sprinting 17 blocks east.

The Buick pays for the angle. Residential rain drains form humps that buck the Buick and only to bring the muffler crashing into the concrete. After miles of bumps and sparks, Nick takes a broad left turn under an emerald green traffic light. Corey is at the red. They gesture and rant at each other like madmen. Corey becomes indifferent to the ruby light glowing overhead. He spins his wheels through the intersection and begins to close on the Buick. They'll have to calm down a bit. They're about to pass the cop depot. 

The Buick's tail raises high along with bright break lights and a swerve to the east. The Taurus swerves around the turning Buick, but turns east in pursuit one block later. 

There are stop signs. But, they hardly slow down. California stops. Speed hiccups. 

Churches and train tracks. Still no cops. This is their known next. Along the train tracks are silos and industrial buildings. The road is dark, pocked with potholes. They avoid a near T-bone. Corey is in the left lane. They ride a double yellow, their faces feet apart. They are jeering and sneering through open windows, insane with adrenaline. 

"STOP!" Screams their marrow.

"TOO LATE NOW!" Cackles their nerves.

100 yards ahead there is a stop sign. That road is known for semis, any time of day or night. Their cars are neck a neck at 75 miles an hour.

"Stop!" Nick screams at Corey.

"Stop!" Corey screams at Nick.

Too late now.

Death is there at that intersection. Stowed behind grainhouses, it might as well be a cliff. 

Look what he got me into. They both muse

*CRASH* *SMASH* *RIP*

They both burst through that invisible Stop barrier as if it were cosmic saran wrap. They cross a vacuum chasm into infinity. There's nothing left. There's nothing right.

They're alive.

They died here in some alternate universe, most certainly.

But, they will also live here forever. a moment of immortality. Time freezes, like the bullet time in so many contemporary movies. They're in an eternal now.

*SNAP* *CRACKLE* *POP*

The film on the opposite side of the intersection is torn. Time and sensation are reborn. The noise of their screams and engines echoes along with curses and rattling undercarriage. They are just coasting, losing speed. Their feet have been levitating above their accelerators in suspense.

Realizing this, they both slam down their feet for the sprint remaining. Less than one mile of backroads, the Buick cuts in front of the Taurus attempting to hold the lead. But, Corey, unphased by such maneuvers, simply taps the Buick causing it to swerve out of the way. Side by side once more, they fly up  one last hill and another stop sign. Deluded by a sense of invincibility.