AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The front rowseat wasn’t all it was cracked up to be as the thunders zipped in and out of the low points. I had to strain my neck to watch all the action, and by the time they neared the far corner of the straightaway I was feeling a slight ache in my neck. About two dozen huge metal baskets on stilts were positioned at significant points just off the tract, such as dips and mounds, and sometimes they blocked the view.
I rubbed the sore spot and winced. “I’m starting to envy those in the cheap seats.”
Ben turned around and inspected the spots behind us. “Unfortunately, the crowds have followed us. There isn’t a seat to be found.”
I started looking around for other alternatives, and I squinted into the distance at the sides of the track. Dozens of small towers had been erected with gabled roofs. The simple platforms were accessed via ladders, and small groups of men were huddled about on the ground while two or three were always on the platform. Off-ramps led from the track to a flat spot in front of each tower where spare tires and tools waited for any wounded thunder.
“What about those?” I wondered as I pointed at the towers.
Ben shook his head. “Those are only for the thunder companies and their members. They hauled the old watchtowers found around the fields to the track and repurposed them as race bases.”
At that moment, the thunders flew around the corner and down the straightaway. I wasn’t alone as I stood to watch all the action as they bumped into each other in their effort to make first place. One among their number caught my attention.
I grasped the railing in front of me and leaned forward. “Isn’t that the Bashful on the far side of the pack?”
Ben scoured the vehicles for a moment before he nodded. “I believe it is.”
“Count Benny!”
We whipped our heads to our right where another set of short stairs led off the bleachers. Mouse was climbing those steps with his usual silly grin on his face.
I pointed at the vehicles as they raced through the course. “Shouldn’t you be in the thunder?”
He plopped himself down beside me and shook his head. “Nah. The guys wouldn’t let me in after my little accident, so Grant’s doing the driving today.”
I looked past him. “And where’s your other friend?”
“Chase? He’s watching from our tower.” He nodded at one of the watchtowers on our right. A lone figure sat on the platform. Mouse gave a wave and the man waved back. “See? We saw you sitting over here and thought you might want to join us.”
My ears perked up. “Really?”
He laughed. “Really. I can’t imagine these seats are too comfortable. You can hardly see the far end of the track.” He stretched his neck and examined the track a moment before he wrinkled his nose. “Or even that.”
“We would be delighted to join you at your tower,” Ben confirmed.
Mouse leapt to his feet. “Great! Let’s go.”
Our guide led us off the stands and around the edge of the race course. A wooden horse fence wrapped around the entire perimeter of the track, and those fans eager to get closer to the action were prevented from climbing over the simple barrier by guards in the uniform of the empire standing at set points. They cast suspicious looks at us, but Mouse patted a badge on his chest as we passed.
“What’s that you’re wearing?” I asked him as I studied the simple round medallion with green and gold colors. There was a single number on it.
“The pass badge,” he told me as we scooted a little farther from the track when the thunders zoomed past. “Each company is assigned a number and given a badge to all the mates.”
I lifted an eyebrow as we passed by a few green-and-gold officials. “So what stops everybody from making one of those?”
“The colors,” Ben told me as we neared the tower. “They’re the colors of the empire, and to have a counterfeit item with those colors means a trip to barrack’s cells on charges of impersonating an agent of His Majesty.”
I winced. “That sounds bad.”
“It’s a hefty fine, I’ll tell you,” Mouse chimed in as we neared the base camp for their company. A few wooden chairs were scattered about along with some duffel bags.
“Good afternoon!” I called out to Chase.
He leaned over the side of the platform and smiled at me. “Good afternoon! Enjoying the show?”
“I’d enjoy it more if I knew how they decided the winner,” I told him.
“Oh, that’s easy,” Mouse mused as he folded his arms over his chest. “There are judges who pace the perimeter of the track. They count how many parts are lost, how many times a thunder goes off into the dirt, whether you get a puncture, and how many times you bang into somebody else. You lose points for those. Then there’s the thunder’s position when the race is finished.
