113 MPH, Pt 3.

2:20 am Stories

Part 1 found here and Part 2 found here.

They were delirious now. Yelling. The sound of the engine was extremely loud. They were one police officer away from being on the wrong end of that courtroom they were speeding towards. One slip of the wheel from a horrible accident. One mistake away from death. They didn’t care. The car would breakdown before Brian’s foot would come off the gas pedal.

Cars whizzed by at a dizzying pace as Brian switched lanes to avoid rear-ending vehicles going half his speed on the 101. They laughed hysterically as they imagined what other motorists must have seen.

113.

CLUNK!

Brian’s foot jerked backwards. Something was wrong. The laughing immediately stopped. Everyone in the car suddenly felt sick to their stomachs. The adrenaline was too much.

“What was that? No…. I thought those were made up?”

They were all thinking it.

The fabled “governor” was real.

Governors were rumored to exist on vehicles to prevent drivers from excessive speeding during police in chases. Police vehicles had the governors “lifted” so they could go much faster than civilian vehicles if necessary. Governors are usually part of the electronics system that detect if the car is going to fast. The system then forces the car to reduce speed by limiting the fuel injectors, or in this case, popping the accelerator back to prevent more gas from going into the engine.

“Fuck it! Try it again!”

He punched the gas. 113 MPH. CLUNK. His leg jumped back like he had been electrocuted.

Brian started talking to his car while looking down at the gas pedal.

“Dude, I don’t like that! That’s fucked up!”

The fact that they were hurtling down the highway going well over 100, surrounded by over a ton of metal didn’t seem to make much of a difference now. The fact was, they hit the ceiling. They couldn’t push it any further. Boundary limit reached.

Deflated, Brian took the car down into the 70s. He still could have easily been ticketed, but even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared. They had reached 113, twice, and didn’t get caught. Getting pulled over for going 75 would have been a relief in some perverted way.

The realization set in. Some of them just went the fastest they would ever go in a car for the rest of their lives. But then, that was it. They wouldn’t take that risk again. He and Chris wouldn’t try again in their own vehicles. They certainly wouldn’t attempt it in their parent’s cars. They now knew the Beretta would only go up to 113. They didn’t have a faster vehicle. They reached the end of the universe.

“Well, even if we don’t find The Hummer at least we went 113! 113! Holy shiiiiiit… ”

They made it to Coquille in 15 minutes flat.

Once they arrived in Coquille, they headed immediately to the grocery store.

No sign of The Hummer. They were instantly pissed at Mia. In a way, it’s what they wanted. With all that extra adrenaline floating around in their bloodstreams, they were looking for an excuse to get angry.

“I knew she was lying!”

“I mean, The Hummer probably left…”

“Are we going to tell her we came out here?”

They argued for a while about what to do next. Eventually, they decided to simply drive around the tiny town. Which they did.

It didn’t take long to find it.

The Hummer was parked in all it’s glory. In a residential driveway. Dark green with a pick-up bed. Tan cover. No CTIS. No geared hubs. One of the lesser featured Hummers, but a Hummer nonetheless.

They pulled over and stared at it. They were in awe.

“Wow. So awesome. Look at those tires! Double independent wishbone suspension!”

“I’m buying one as soon as I can!”

“I’m buying one for every day of the week!”

“I’m buying two and wearing them as shoes, and driving one down each lane!”

Double rainbow, all the way across the sky. Their claims became more grand and more ridiculous. They continued to outdo each other. One of the them suggested to get out and look at the Hummer up close.

“Are you crazy? Trespassing? That’s illegal!

As if the mere mention of trespassing was the craziest thing Brian had ever heard. This was not more than 15 minutes after going 113 MPH. Twice.

He and Chris made fun of Brian, but no one left the car. They had taken enough risks for the day.

Eventually, their admiration ran dry. They didn’t want to leave The Hummer but they couldn’t park out in front of a strangers house forever. Especially a stranger that might own a gun. He owns a Hummer, after all. Owners of Hummers had a propensity to protect their assets. They said their good-byes and drove home going the speed limit. Guilt began to sink in.

She was right. There was a Hummer. It was green. Mia was just trying to be nice.

They made a pact not to tell her they had made the trip and saw the Hummer. If she asked, they would all lie. They were at Brian’s the whole time! If she had called any of their homes while they were away, they would claim they had gone to Freddies. If she was at Freddies, they would claim they had just missed her.

It was partially so they wouldn’t have to confront the guilt they felt for actually finding the Hummer she deserved to see with them. Mainly, it was so so she wouldn’t flip-out and attack them. She was known to get violent and they were physically intimidated by her. She was a soccer player and had punched them before. Again, the bi-polar thing.

They all made it home safely. She hadn’t called any of their houses. Crisis averted. She never found out about their trip or that they had indeed found their prize.

They also couldn’t tell anyone about the speeds they had reached. If they did, people would ask questions. They knew one of them would slip and say they were on the 101. Which meant they were headed to Coquille. Which meant they were looking for the Hummer. And Mia would find out. And she would be angry. And get hitty.

The boys never tried to go that fast again. 113 MPH seemed fast enough for them. Twice.

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