Fury versus "Fury"

Ready. Steady. Go!

The girl started the engine and hurried out of the junkyard. Gas. Full concentration on the road. She doesn't care about these sounds. The speedometer needle rose quickly and correctly to the number 70. The truck clumsily pulled out from behind a pile of rusty cars and headed straight for Plymouth. The "grin" of the track cleaner was reflected in one of the side mirrors. "Damn you! How is this trough catching up with me?!"  Bryant's excitement was throbbing in her temples and chest pains. She started to press the gas pedal even harder - 80 miles per hour, but the truck was only a short distance away. "Ooh! Soo do you want to chase more? Come on, try it!" the girl abruptly squeezed out a hundred miles at once, then turned sharply on a bend hiding behind a large rock. A few miles later, she pulled over to the side of the road, hiding in the huge shadow of a sandy hill, and turned off the engine. The dealer took a deep breath and leaned back in her seat, "Who is it? Why did he follow me?" The feeling of incessant anxiety made it difficult to think, and her throat felt unpleasantly dry. There is also this melody, which the radio station apparently put on endless repeat. A toggle switch clicked and silence filled the cabin. Taking a flat steel flask from the glove compartment, she went out into the fresh air. It's noticeably colder outside. The girl drank the drink greedily. The vodka burned her throat sharply and gradually calmed the trembling in her body. "The Department of Health Protection warns: drunk driving is a threat to life." the guy, now sitting in the driver's seat, deliberately parodied the announcer's voice. Bryant objected without looking back:
- It would be better to help with advice than to criticize.
- Well, what is it? According to that doctor, I'm just your hallucination. What did he say there? Don't drug abuse, sleep more and blah, blah, blah. And if an imaginary friend appears again, then just ignore it.
- That's enough.
- Oh, yes, do not forget about the timely intake of antidepressants.
- You're going to get it from me now.
"The girl's patience was running out, her free hand slowly clenched into a fist."
- You don't forget?
"Now greaser was already standing opposite, propping his chin on his elbow, standing on the snow-white roof of the hardtop."
- Enough!
A hysterical scream echoed among the bare hills. She threw the empty flask at random with a flourish. The sound of broken glass was heard, followed by the hum of a starting engine. A lot of bright lights simultaneously shone directly into her face, which made her have to close her eyes. The source of the bright light rushed towards her with a growl. The driver immediately jumped into her Fury and started the engine and drove away from the Chevy, which was clearly going to hit her. The machine almost crashed into the mountain itself, but turned off in time, only scratching the hull. "You know, at least in part I agree with him on one thing - to finally learn how to control fury. Your Fury." said the guy, who was sprawled out in the middle of the backseat again. "Shut up!" snapped Bryant, looking into the center mirror and noticing that her eyes seemed to light up unnaturally bright green for a few seconds, just like the glow of the dashboard. The sky finally turned a blood-red hue. The darkened large and small rocks contrasted with it, and were like teeth in the huge mouth of a Megalodon. She had to make a lot of quick maneuvers to avoid crashing into one of them. From such a rotation, the CV-joint would have been torn off long ago, but the Plymouth again demonstrated abnormal strength. Chevrolet also had to overcome such obstacles with great difficulty. A country road appeared nearby. It is so narrow that even a passenger car will be difficult to drive, let alone a truck. "This is my chance!" and again the girl abruptly turned gas, not giving the engine a break. The fenders of the beautiful oldtimer scratched against the sharp stone ledges, striking sparks. The truck driver was even worse off - the vehicle slowly started to get stuck, but that didn't stop him from pushing the rear panel of the sedan hard. The cowcatcher left a hefty dent and smashed one of the headlights. This clearly shouldn't have been done. The dealer's eyes shone with sepulchral green again, the protruding scleral vessels filled with blood. Now, the cocktail of anxiety, fear and doubt has been completely replaced by pure rage. No one ever, dares to touch her car! "You little shit!" taking out a sawn-off shotgun from under the next chair, she looked out the window, aiming at the annoying pursuer, while leaving her car without proper control. But it didn't bother the girl at all. She KNEW she wouldn't crash. And now the first shot was a miss! It ricocheted off the notorious battering ram. The second shot is minus the left headlight of the truck, and then the third is through the driver's window. "To the point!" fleeting satisfaction began to be gradually replaced by the realization of the action. She's probably just killed a man. The speedometer needle itself moved to the right side - 120 miles per hour. A little more, and the speed will reach its maximum. Trembling palms were gripping the light steering wheel again, and Carl Perkins' voice was coming from the speakers:

"I'm sorry, I'm not sorry
That you have said good-bye
I'm sorry, I'm not sorry
You're gone and I don't want to cry"