Solitude in White: In the Future
By Merith
Hands tight on the rail, I leaned over it peering down the track. Even in the pack of six, I spotted his car right away. He edge around the lead car and made a break for it, accelerating from already an insane speed. My fingers gripped the metal harder and it took all the control I never knew I possessed to keep from vaulting the rail and running onto the track to put a halt to his recklessness.
"He drives like the devil himself was after him."
I barely acknowledged a man who now stood beside me. "Quatre," was my only comment, my eyes seeking the black and silver car once again.
"It's like a dance, the way he weaves in and about."
His voice was deceptively soft; his faint southern drawl gave ancient sophistication to his words. I spared him a glance, eyes narrowing. Quatre rested arms on the rail close but still at a comfortable distance. "There's nothing remotely similar about dancing and what he's doing." A look to the scoreboard and back to the track.
"Oh but there is." Quatre's tone took on an amused air. I ignored him, willing the last ten laps to be finished. "Each move is choreographed in a harmony only the drivers can hear. Like a Latin dance, the race holds the same thrill, the danger, the rush of the chase, and the culmination of victory."
"Only for the winner." I couldn't help but respond. Nine laps.
Quatre's hand flapped briefly. "That's only part of it." His hand was covering mine, squeezing it as it gripped the rail. "Understand, Agent Yuy. Understand that this is who he is and what he is."
I pulled my hand away, turning to glare at him. "I know who Duo is. I know what Duo is." Rubbing my hand with the other, I checked the board again. Seven laps. "We moved down here for that reason."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Quatre nod. "When you're working a case," Quatre said, turning to face me. "Do you know what Duo does to make it through the day?"
The question startled me and I was looking at Quatre again. "What? Why would he have to do anything?"
Quatre was nodding again. "Your job can become very dangerous very quickly, can't it, Agent Yuy?" His voice was deceptively soft again, and his eyes sharp but warm.
I was aware of air going into my lungs, of exhaling and watching Quatre. The parallel was all too clear. Giving him a nod, I glanced back up at the board. Two laps, and Duo's car was still in the lead. I started making my way to the pit. It was nearly assured this would be his win, and I wanted to be there after the victory lap was ran.
That Quatre didn't follow wasn't a surprise. He'd join Duo up on the winner's circle when the time came. The noise of the crowd surged, and Duo's number was called. The pit crew began to holler and whoop it up. I took my place against the back wall and waited, willing myself to relax.
He would come to me; he would be safe. His demons rested. Mine would as well, at least, where Duo was concerned.
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