Follow the story of Treydon Austin (aka Smokey) as he chases down the cleverest, fastest, most uncatchable, most unmatchable members of The Bandit’s crime Syndicate as the government’s secret weapon against guys who are just too fast to catch. Check back every monday for the latest chapter to this fast paced action novel.
The parachutes grabbed and clawed at the air with all their might. Doing their best to bring the car to a stop. Eventually the parachutes won their battle over the speed and wind and the car slowed to a stop.
Smokey took a deep shaky breath. He had been holding the air in his lungs since he heard the Veyron explode. “Repack chutes.” He said. He placed his head down on the steering wheel. He took another shaky respiration. “Dixie…” he whispered to himself. She was all he cared about. He didn’t care about taking down the Bandit anymore. He didn’t care about cars. He didn’t care about his promotion to a marshal. The thing that was truly burned into his brain was Dixie. Well, more of a person than a thing. The emotion of love is a mix of every emotion the mortal body is capable of. He hated the Bandit with a passion, but he loved Dixie with more passion. “I…gotta… see Dixie.”
His skin grew pale and moist. The sweat stung his eyes. He was shaking heavily from the adrenaline his body had released. He took another deep breath, and then exhaled. Then another deep breath, then another exhalation. He regained himself. He managed to put it into gear. He turned the car around and began to drive towards the black plume of smoke that billowed above the crystal white salt in the distance. The smoke cloud that contained particles of a person who was once called The Bandit.
With each breath of oxygen Smokey regained more of his mind back. He shifted gears and pressed the phone button on his helmet. “Dial 911.” He began to talk to the dispatch agent he had asked for. “Send air med to the Bonneville Salt Flats. Also send a fire crew. This is US Marshal Smokey and I am in the middle of the Salt Flats. I’m sure that the helicopter can see the cloud of smoke in the middle of the flats… No, not the gas station… ok, please hurry.”
Smokey pressed the button again and hung up the helmet phone. He had almost reached the wreck. He began to brake and stopped right at the twisted wreckage that vomited fluids and roared smoke and flames.
i like this story a lot…. 
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
