"The Factory" is set in what the Author "Casanova Da Vinci" calls 'The Hardline 80's', one of the pinnacle turning points in world history. Based on cross genre influences of "The Fast And Furious", as well as the ground breaking "Burnout" game (for break-neck visual stimulation), the story is pretty much Non-Stop from the first race...
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The Devil’s Crown – The Hardline 80’s
The Sunset Strip that stretched the whole length of the 105 was ablaze with the loud revs and roars of heavily customized cars; Japanese imports mostly while through the dust clouds more common GTO’s and Chargers made their way to the top of The Devil’s Crown starting position. The pyre burning its beacon that could be seen throughout the whole city of Redstone, signaled the beginning of the races that ran sixty-six miles in crisscross formations around deep L-bends, tight alleys, sheer faced cliffs and hazardous conditions. All of this added up to “Devil’s Run 66”: The Redstone Race Circuit.
For me it had been a long day, the stress from working two jobs that didn’t appreciate my skillset sent me into an oblivious and parallax overture that could only be quenched by road and rubber.
‘You’re fucking late, man, you were supposed to have been up here ten minutes ago,’ Justin Danes shouted across a clump of cars being worked on in the Pull Pits.
There was a reason I was late, I just preferred not to bite to the SOB.
‘Did you pick up the parts I asked for?’ I asked avoiding his question that would have only resulted in a slagging match.
Justin pointed over to our Pull Pit where I set my eyes on the Viper; The Viper was both all-American and a true exotic, with lots of curves and bulges in all the right places to let you know it means business. The long nose, bodacious body, and predatory stare gave the Viper a menacing look, while its 645-hp, 8.4-liter V-10 could catapult it to 60 mph in about three seconds – but this was the Viper ACR, with all kinds of aero aids, special tires by Kumho and carbon-ceramic brakes that Dodge says is the fastest Viper on any racetrack.
‘What do you think?’ Justin asked, turning to the small cabinet and taking a hold of the keys before throwing them in my direction.
Catching them out of the air with no hesitation I jumped inside to the soothing welcome of the hi-res leather upholstery, it’s almost liquid change of shape holding me into place perfectly.
‘She’s beautiful. Who am I racing?’ I spoke dreamily, my thoughts already envisioning the open roads, the challenging bends and, of course, the thrilling curves.
Justin was quiet – silent.
Turning to look through the passenger side window I was met with a very warm smile hanging from a young woman who was dressed in a yellow canary colored dress, holding what appeared to be a glass of champagne and Gucci handbag. She was cold.
‘You’re the winner, right?’ She asked almost convincingly.
The streets were the real school establishments around Redstone, and there was hardly anyone who didn’t know the ‘Ball-Breaker Maneuver’ before now, which came to an unexpected conclusion.
‘Nice try, Lady, but that died with the last Ark!’ I laughed.
The woman suddenly opened the door and jumped in by the side of me, it was not unusual in its occurrence, just kind of creepy to say that the Totty usually jumped in after the race – and this was only for the winner.
‘You have to save my life!’ She bleated winding up the window. ‘Will you help me?’
Justin was stood waiting for me to give him a sign as to pull the woman from the car and send her on her way home, or wherever it was she had come from. My head nodded.
‘Put your seatbelt on, we’re going for a drive.’ I announced just before wheel spinning away from the Pull Pit onto the main entry lane that would bring us up to The Devil’s Crown Starting post.
The young woman, obviously oblivious to the whole race thing was looking out of her window and acting strange; her body was fidgety and uncomfortable, nervous and panicky.
‘You ever raced here before?’ I asked pointing at the Start Line.
Something told me that she had, and not only by the looks of it, but maybe had an episode whilst driving The 66.
‘You’ll be fine, I’ve driven this track a hundred times before…’
‘Isn’t that what they all say?’ She exclaimed sitting back in her seat and taking a hold of the passenger support handle above the door to her right.
Whether everyone said this to the women it was irrelevant to me, the road was my life, my soul, even my whole being. The feel of the acceleration, the strain on the Torque, grip of the tyres and the scent of the air that circulated around the night; the intoxicating smell of petrol, diesel, methane and NOS invading every sense, nerve and chasm in my body, as the first rush of adrenaline was unleashed.
The acceleration was flawless, the one and a half ton muscle car was up at the front, the rear tyres spinning with whines before leaving the smoke ridden tar mac with aggressive gripping force.
‘HOLY SHIT!’ The young woman cried out in excitement.
The race had begun, my opponent unknown, the road clear.
The first turn was “The Kidney Punch”; 5.8 miles of both sharp right and left turns that had your whole entire body stuck in one battling position to stay leant from one to the other, which to be fair did have its moments of cramp and pain. In the Viper, however, the tilt-tronic seats made the ride less tense and more intense.
‘Fuck! Is that ninety-five?’ She gasped pointing at the speedo.
Looking down quickly from the road to the speedometer I checked the speed and sure enough it was showing ninety-five miles per hour on the clock. I couldn’t believe my eyes at first, until looking again and seeing that the car was stable at fast speeds.
‘Open the glove box, there’s a tablet in there…switch it on and tell me where we are on the map?’ I called over to her now relaxing body that seemed to destress from its inward decline.
She took the tablet in her hands and switched it on.
‘We’re coming to the end of The Kidney Punch, only one and a half miles left.’ She said bringing the distance to my attention.
Pulling on the gears I geared down before allowing the accelerator to rise beneath my feet, as with a slight nudge on the brakes the car started to roar intermittently as it decelerated just in time to make the cautious drive through Bluff Point and down a steep hill toward the treacherous Catcher Bay, its steep incline catapulting car and driver around an almost 360 circle, but for the close corner that in all the times I had driven that part of the road, I myself knew that it needed to be done in second gear, no higher, no lower gear would do but second.
‘You’re a pretty good driver, friend, my name is Tiffany,’ she began to introduce herself to me, as I lined up the steering for the Coaster Road.
‘Joshua,’ I replied with a glowing smile that had my face light up like Christmas. ‘Joshua Warburton, pleased to meet you Tiffany.’
For the rest of the ride the young woman directed me through the worst of the turns, warned me of oncoming dangers and even had a friend of hers text whenever our opponent came too close to us.
By the time we reached Redstone Falls, the night had become almost black with hardly any stars in the sky at all. The headlights beamed their light far off in the distance, the flickering light on occasion picking out potential Road Kill blinking their eyes at the side of the road. It was starting to become automated the way that I went up or down a gear, turned the wheel, pressed the brake…I was becoming anxious. And at 215 mph that was not a good state to be in, not at any break-neck speed.
‘Are you okay?’ She asked, placing a hand on the inside of my leg.
Glancing down I immediately looked up into Tiffany’s eyes.
‘I’m fine.’
Leaving Redstone Falls, we entered the diversion road of Snake Pass, to cut across The Drive and up into what the many locals called The Devil’s Mouth; 220 feet of sheer rock face that had an inverted wall structure overlooking the whole city of Redstone.
‘We have twelve miles left before The Sunset Strip…The Devil’s Mouth,’ Tiffany whispered almost silently, her voice low and afraid of speaking the run out loud in case it was bad luck.
‘It’s okay, I’ve got this.’ I spoke up into the silence while taking a hold of her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘You’ve done this before, right?’
Tiffany nodded. ‘My Brother, Michael, he used to bring me on all of his races here in Redstone.’ She replied pointing from the tablet to the road showing me the surface was weak and worn. ‘Second, then third, then back down into second. Got it?’
I nodded before coming to the point of The Devil’s Mouth where so many victim’s had lost their lives, young and old, it didn’t matter because death as we all knew was not picky or choosy about who it was going to take from each and every race.
‘This race, what does it get you?’ She asked suddenly while frequently glancing down to see the marker on the tablet screen.
I knew exactly what she was getting at. ‘Peace of mind.’
Tiffany was kind of confused to the fact that other drivers out there were in it for the money, while others preferred to keep their own reasons to themselves. I didn’t, however, it was for the challenge rather than the cash – it always was.
The Devil’s Mouth had three Peaks that protruded outward toward the valley below it; the first Peak was nicknamed Twat, the second Bastard and the third Cunt, because each turn, incline and corner had every car driver door suffering some deep scathing or tearing scratch that pissed you off just enough to make one of two life altering decision’s: lose your temper and lose the road, or simply just gain your composure and get through to the end.
As we made our final adjustments through the last Peak, Tiffany turned around in her seat to see our opponent gaining speed on us.
‘He’s point five, point four…Put your foot down!’ She yelled out at the top of her voice.
I had already engaged third gear, accelerating more, changing into fourth and then finally into fifth gear below the sixth. The other car was now only a short distance behind us, his NOS already used up from the starting line – a very stupid mistake.
‘Let’s see what this baby can really do!’ I said pushing in the NOS button that stood out at us in a bright neon circular blue light on the dashboard.
NOS was dangerous, if used in the wrong hands. The twin, eight pounds, fifteen liter tanks that released the contents into a reactive chamber pushed the Viper with an ease that for a moment had myself and the Tiffany lift off of our seats and hang in the air, as though jumping an invisible ramp – but there was no ramp…This was thrust.
The Viper howled with power, the engine driving us forever closer to the final few miles of the finish line. The steering was smooth, the early tracking alignment changing what was rear wheel drive and initiating All Wheel Drive. Now all four wheels dug into the track and sped victoriously over the finish line to a rapturous welcome applause.
(excerpt from "The Factory" by Casanova Da Vinci. Further info can be found at @NorthGableProductions on Facebook)
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