Bold text appeared on Michael's HUD.

R E A D Y

He put the car in gear.

Michael revved the car, holding it at about 4 thousand RPM.

This is for my home.

3...

This is for my family

2...

This is for me.

1...

GO!

The woman in the dress threw her arms down. Michael dumped the clutch. All the cars set off like angry herd of bulls.

The Mustang's rear tires chirped on launch from a slight loss of traction. Michael swerved around the Lexus, which was slow off the line. He was doing it. Racing. He had just passed someone like it was nothing. He took a deep breath. Drive like you always have, he thought.

Full throttle to redline, lift, clutch, into second. Steer into the slipstream of the silver RX-8. The Mustang's V8 roar drowned out the Mazda's rotary buzz. Michael glanced in the rear view, Michelle was following close behind. Through third and fourth gear. The blue racing line was still projected on the ground in front of him.

They approached a turn, a ninety degree left, which arced onto the adjacent street.

Left-90, the HUD flashed, showing an arrow icon pointing left. It reminded Michael of a co-driver for rally racing. The racing line swept towards the outside line of the coming turn. It faded from blue to yellow to red. Michael had seen enough video games to know what that meant.

Michael applied 3/4 pressure on the brakes, to avoid lock up, he steered smoothly to the outside line, and wrestled the car towards the apex of the corner. The Mustang dove into the corner, passing the RX-8, which had left the inside line wide open.

Michelle drifted her S13 around the outside of the RX-8, pulling alongside him as they exited the corner and rocketed onto the next straight. Michael saw that the helmet projected a holographic wall, to show you weren't supposed to go the other direction, again similar to a video game.

******

Michael noticed that Michelle had to try harder than usual to keep up with him, but his brain didn't process the information properly. Instead, he concentrated on how she swerved the S13 into the slipstream of his Foxbody, pushing the car to its limit.

Next turn: A spiral clockwise overpass entrance, on to a concrete highway.

He had never felt this focused before.

Michael watched Michelle drift the spiral overpass behind him, and thought through the various inputs she would have to make to do so. Lift of the gas, steer right, flick left. The Scandinavian flick. Tap the brakes. Now floor it to hold the slide. Counter steer to straighten the car, use the throttle to increase its angle.

Michael had to brake several times to kill understeer, he wasn't drifting like Michelle was. She slid the car up the inside line past him. The road straightened out, and she gently lifted off the gas and straightened the car, then nailed the throttle, accelerating onto the next straight, falling in line behind a black blobeye Subaru WRX STi. It had clearly been tuned, it had a lot of power, and all wheel drive. It had a bubbly looking body shape, four doors, and a gigantic rally spoiler affixed to the trunk lid.

Up into fourth gear, then fifth. The S13 started to struggle a bit on the acceleration front. Michael quickly caught up to her. The WRX pulled away from both of them as they blasted down the highway at around a hundred and twenty miles an hour.

********

Michael carefully steered around Michelle, and she pulled into his slipstream. The highway started to curve left slightly. The WRX lifted off the throttle, and braked slightly, its rounded taillights flashing, and hugged the inside line. But Michael's Foxbody was lighter, and as soon as the highway straightened out again, he was alongside it, the S13 following closely behind.

Right-20, Into Exit

The racing line pointed toward an exit off the highway, and turned bright red. Michael slammed hard on the brakes, the Mustang's tires locking up in the process. Michael let off the gas, downshifted to second gear, and eased up off the brakes slightly to maintain control. The WRX swerved in front of him, but began to slide. Its driver over corrected, and its weight transferred in the other direction.

Michael knew what was probably going to happen now.

The WRX lost control and spun, crunching its rear bumper on the wall of the highway exit. It bounced towards the other wall, crushing its front bumper, and then it bounced into the air in a roll, raining bits of bodywork and shards of glass.

Time seemed to slow down. It would be almost impossible to avoid. He was maybe a couple feet away from the wreck now. The WRX was still in the air. Michael felt a sudden calm. He hit the gas. The Mustang sailed beneath the flying wreck. He hits the brakes for the next turn (left-90) before he even realized what happened.

"Sis, you ok?! " He shouted into his helmet, while sliding through the next turn.

"Yeah yeah yeah I'm fine, it fell off the overpass... HOLY SHIT DO YOU FUCKING SEE THAT!!!? YOU GOT SO LUCKY OMG!!"

"Never mind that, we've got to finish this race."

Michael pushed the memory of the lucky accident into the back of his mind. He could already see his next target off in the distance. It was a white car, with a curvy fastback roofline and oval taillights. The track took them through a tight alleyway, and on to a wide open street, while Michelle in his slipstream. As the street ended, the track's route sent them into a muddy construction site. Both Michael and Michelle were caught out by the change in surface, both skidding out wide. Michelle nearly crashed into him. The wide car up ahead, however, appeared to have lost even more time. Michael could now pick out what it was, a 2012 Porsche Cayman R, that had been lightly modified with aftermarket forged rims.

Michael had pretty poor traction in the mud, the Mustang still had solid axle rear suspension, and although he had modified and tuned it as much as he could, it still caused the car to skid whenever he went over a large bump at speed. Michelle quickly passed him. Mercifully, the racing line pointed them back on to the road. They headed through a large, empty alleyway, turned down a short street, then through a short tunnel, steadily gaining ground on the Cayman.

As soon as he was back on the asphalt, Michael floored it pulling alongside his sister. Right-180, on to highway. That meant they had to pull a u-turn to get on the highway. Michelle put the S13 into a hard slide with a pull of the handbrake. Michael followed suit. There was still mud on the Mustang's tires from the construction site, and the car let go way quicker than he expected.

The Mustang slid out wide, Michael panic steering in the direction of the slide. But it was too late, and the rear of the car went out too far. But he could still save it. He steered the other direction and hit the gas and the car spun in a full circle, and as soon as he was pointing the correct direction he counter steered again and the car held the slide around the turn. Michelle drifted in tandem with him as soon as he pulled out of the spin. They got on the highway right on the bumper of the Cayman.

They headed on to the highway, Michael easily accelerated past the Cayman... but then the Cayman pulled into his slipstream. It was keeping pace with him down the highway, while Michelle gradually fell behind. At this rate, they were surely going to loose, they still had several cars to pass, and if they came any less than first, they'd loose their cars.

The Cayman pulled alongside him from the draft, and Michael was forced to brake early to let the Porsche pass to avoid a collision. This guy was good, Michael thought, but he also had a better car.

A few more turns went by, and Michael deliberately held back, studying the driver of the Cayman, while Michelle caught up with him. The Porsche lacked straight line speed on corner exit, due to a lack of power, but it was able to carry more speed through, as it was mid engined.

Since a majority of its mass was towards the center of the car, the car's center of mass would shift right onto the rear wheels during acceleration, allowing the driver to keep the throttle nailed throughout the turn. It could also work the opposite way, if you were off the gas or braking, the center of mass would be over the front wheels, the car would have better turn in and less understeer.

But that also meant, of course! Michael thought.

"Sis, go around me!" Michael shouted into his headset.

"Alright! Why?"

"I need you to go for his inside line on the next few corners, and dive suddenly, like you're trying to surprise him. I'll do the same for the outside line."

In the next turn, Michelle passed Michael, drifting cleanly up the inside line. Michael got into position, carefully judging his distance from the 180SX. They headed down a short straight, and as soon as they entered the next ninety degree corner on to the next street they split up, Michelle lunging the 180SX up the Cayman's inside line, and Michael going for its outside.

The Cayman initially swerved to block Michelle, then realizing Michael was the one who actually had enough space, swerved in his direction. But that was just a little too much for the Cayman's immense grip, so it skidded slightly, and the driver did what most do in a normal car when it skids, let off the gas... but that caused all the weight to shift to the front wheels, leaving no grip for the rear, and the car's skid turned into a spin: Lift off oversteer. The siblings swerved to avoid the spinning Porsche, and headed down the next street.

Michael stayed quiet. That last opponent had proved to be a serious challenge.

They headed through the next few corners pushing to gain time on the next few opponents. The final few turns took them back to the shipping container area.

The racing line from the helmet guided them on to the street where the race had begun, right past the crowd, and in between the red flares from the start, which were now burning low.

They had just entered Lap 2.

Michael's mind emptied. He began to concentrate. Brake as late as possible. Downshift carefully, don't over rev. Turn, hit the apex, accelerate, shift smoothly. Repeat.

*********