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 brain works using a network electrical signals. In the time it takes for one little jolt of electricity to shoot through your brain, you remember all the important things in your life. What triggers this? Well, most say it happens just before you die. Am I worried about death right now? No, I’m thinking to fast right now to worry about death, even with my life flashing before my eyes.
I was 16 and my dad got me my first car. A 1978 Camaro Z28. A beautiful car for sure, but it had seen better days. It had no windshield, the rear brakes didn’t work, the engine wasn’t firing in all cylinders, and the interior smelled like something had died. Turns out something had died; there was a family of dead raccoons in the trunk. That would explain why the back seat was trashed. It had a 350 Chevrolet engine. Ask any car guy, the 350 Chevy is universally known. My dad however had other plans for the main power plant in the car. “Treydon!” he shouted to me. I turned around. That’s right, that’s my name, my real name. Sometimes you get so caught up in a nickname or a code name that you forget what your real name is. My real name is Treydon Austin. I’m the son of Carl Austin. I had eyebrow length brown hair, and brown eyes. I’m just a normal Joe Brown. Average height, average weight, average everything. I wore jeans and a t-shirt. Yes, I’m very interesting.
“Treydon, help me hook this hunk of junk-err pulse pounding muscle car to the back of my truck would ‘ya?” I looked at the car, it was like that rust red and Bondo splotched old muscle car changed before my eyes, to what I was going to make it look like.
My face relaxed, “sure dad” I said.
He was 56 years old and it showed. His skin was tan, rough and leathery from hard work. The gray presented throughout his hair giving it a slat and pepper look.
Back when my dad was in high school he had a 1970 Chevelle SS, a muscle car that defined the word muscle car. He actually crashed it street racing. He has always regretted that, he said he was inches from death.
i like this story a lot…. 
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