Isolation-#Wattys2015

Excerpt 17-Asphalt

Even at 100 miles an hour I could feel how much the car was having to fight to pull itself through the heat. The air was so humid that I was leaving a vapor trail and there was steam coming off the black tar of the road. The ride itself was rather smooth, but I could tell from the way the smaller bumps felt that the tires were melting and then hardening again quicker than I could think. Hope these tires hold out. I could feel how hot it was around me through my uncovered mouth and the tips of my fingers, hell the leather on the steering wheel was leaving marks on the Chitin on them. Even through the suit was nearly freezing me on the lowest setting, I could still feel the heat from the car's interior.

"What's the temperature Doc?", I asked through my suits built in radio.

"Nearing the 180 mark", James answered, "you should be close to the first turn now."

I peered ahead and saw a red stop sign near a 4-Way intersection. I wasn't too familiar with how the road laws worked, because I'd only ever driven my truck off road, but I was pretty sure that they didn't apply in this case.

"Right turn right?", I asked slowing down and pushing the shifter down to 5th gear and then to 4th.

"Yes", James said, "you can ignore the stop sign, every second counts."

"Rodger", I said downing the car to second and 45 miles an hour before I went around the corner. I put the pedal to the carpet and shifted into 3rd gear as the engine fought the melty tires to bring the car back to speed. I could smell the burning rubber and see the black marks I was leaving in the rear view mirror.

"The rubber on these tires is melting", I called.

"How do you know?", James replied.

"I can smell it", I told him, "I can feel it too. They way the engine is screaming makes me think I should be doing a lot better than 121 MPH."

"Try to stay at speed", James said, "if you stop those tires will melt to the pavement and you will never get back here before this place becomes a cremation chamber."

"I'm going as fast as I can", I replied putting the gas as far down as I could, "it would help if I wasn't leaving tire behind me."

"Stay at speed", Mike said, "the air rushing around the tires will cool them off and help keep them hard."

"I'm doing my best here guys", I replied, "there's only so much I that I can do from a driver's seat though."

I shut off the radio as I continued down the long straight away. After what seemed like an eternity of empty road, the car's engine began to sputter, soon it died off. The RPM gauge dropped to zero and the speedometer began to drop off. I looked down at the gas gauge and found that the needle was resting on empty. I pressed down on the brake and soon the car stopped. I popped the trunk open and climbed out of the car. As I did I realized that there was another, expensive car close to me. It was white with red stripes and had a large wing over the back, telling me it was either someone's custom car, or a race car. The tires were melted to the road and the bumpers looked like melted cheese oozing out of Calzone. The paint on the body was peeling off and there was steam coming from underneath the hood. When I peered inside the window, I saw two bodies a male and female human. Their skin was raw and peeling, the heat no doubt. The man's hand was melted on the steering wheel and woman was holding his other one. I doubted that they were alive in there, and I didn't dare touch the metal handle out of fear of burning my fingers off. I quickly walked around to the trunk of the Honda and pulled a cotton strap to open it. I pulled the metal gas can out of the trunk and then popped the gas cap of the car off, beginning to fill the tank.

"This isn't going to blow up in my face is it?", I asked, "because...I'm kind of attached to what I've got left."

"No", James said, "for spontaneous combustion the oxygen content in the air would have to be damn near 90%, and that alone would kill you."