He'd seen it before.
Heat caused the now familiar columns of turbulance that rose,
unrestrained, going who knows where. A voice from somewhere inside him
reminded him that this was a common optical illusion. Another voice
tried to chime in with the scientific principals behind the illusion,
but he was too busy to listen. His target shimmered in the distance.
the heat wiggles were there too, he surmised.
The heat. Concentrate.
It's funny. Random thoughts sometimes streak through your mind when
you're in the middle of something important. He often thinks of his
wife and kids, maybe bass fishing, or some other thing far-removed from
the task at hand. Today was different. H ecouldn't allow the
distractions.
Wasn't it hot a minute ago? Maybe he was just imagining it.
Concentrate.
45 seconds.
There was an almost imperceptible change in his immediate surroundings.
The howl of machinery began to diminish, and out of habit, he checked
his instruments for possible signs of trouble. Nothing. Normal. Good
thing, too - the enemy was right on his butt, and he couldn't afford to
make a mistake. He would be overrun in seconds wth no defense, no way
to stop them.
No sound. No heat. Concentrate.
His target was riding on a cushion of heat wiggles, and he was gaining -
slowly. That's when he noticed it. The hair on his neck rose, standing
at attention for the invisible general that he often confided in. His
mind snapped - yeah, that's a good decsription - snapped into a mode of
crystal awareness. It allowed his ears to detect the faint pressure
changes in the air around him.
No heat. No sound. No distractions.
30 seconds.
That's when he saw the tunnel. It was forming directly in front of him.
Inside the tunnel, everything, including his target, was cleanly
focused, and the heat wiggles were prevented from invading it's
confines. He'd seen it before.
Stay in the tunnel. No distractions.
He was gaining quickly now, and he knew that his target knew there was
no way out. There was nothing that could prevent him from overtaking.
He was almost on the target when the tunnel shifted. If he didn't stay
in the tunnel, he'd ram his target. Not the desired result, so he
shifted with the tunnel.
Stay in the tunnel. No distractions.
10 seconds.
He had passed the target, and the tunnel began to dissipate, allowing
sound to enter his realm once more. It built to a crescendo of angry
machinery straining to the limits of it's design. He heard people too.
Were they - cheering? Of course they were.
Dale streaked across the finish line only fractions of a second in front
of his son, and he wondered if Little 'E' saw what he saw today. I
wonder...
--
=========================================================
DeMONS/1 for Nascar Racing 3 & Nascar Legends
http://www.racesimcentral.net/
DeMONS/2 for Nascar Racing 4 and 2002 Season (in development)
http://www.racesimcentral.net/
RASCAR Roster
http://www.racesimcentral.net/
Redneck Techno-Biker & "programming deity"
http://www.racesimcentral.net/
Barbarian Diecast Collector (460+ cars and counting)
http://www.racesimcentral.net/
If you want to send me email, go to the first URL shown
above & click "Send Me Mail" in the contents frame.
=========================================================