Something wicked this way comes…
Stretching as she stepped into the shower, Megan felt oddly tired yet wide awake having just got home from the most recent street encounter – the one with a GNX. As the warm, stinging water hit her skin her mind wandered about the night’s events and she had to admit that she was quite surprised by how hard it was to beat the Buick. Stan had told her after he finished helping her dyno-tune the Merc that there really shouldn’t be anyone on the street that would give her much competition but obviously he was wrong – the X was more than just a handful. It took everything the Marauder had to pull ahead at the end and that concerned her somewhat. Yet, the bigger thought running through her mind wasn’t the race or how close it was; rather, it was how was she going to be able to get Dan to meet up with her again… somewhere she could talk with him and hopefully warn him about what was coming.
After all, she knew that he most likely wouldn’t want to talk at all, especially after she crushed his fragile male ego a week ago on the street. And she knew that Sally definitely would be having none of it either, having long ago told Megan that she hated her more than anything or anyone. Yet, Dan didn’t know she was back, nor did he have a clue that Megan was the mystery driver of the Marauder so her best hope was to lure him out somehow to another race and at a time when Sally wouldn’t be with him. But how could she do that? Then, she realized it was really easier than she was making it… much easier…
As he had so many nights before, sleep did not come easily. The Dream was there again… this time, it was a cacophony of sensual stimuli; dark, swirling and vaporous fog, cool and heavy, blocking sight out just inches from your face; pungent, dank aromas, like that of a wooded bog, heavy with rotting vegetation; silence… heavy, omnipresent silence punctuated occasionally by a sound of something (someone?) breathing VERY close by but not seen, or, a random voice out in the fog, almost a murmur that couldn’t be made out but sounding almost like someone moaning – or laughing?… then, a touch of something wet and low to the ground, as if IT just brushed against his leg to let him know IT was still there… waiting… waiting… for just the right time to do what IT had come to do… he couldn’t get away from IT. He tried to run but only fell each time, getting smattered in the face by water or slapped by wet, heavy leaves of some odd jungle-like vegetation… trying to get up and get free… get free of the fog, the sounds, the smells… running… running… falling… getting up… running…all the while, IT was still there, trailing him, waiting… just waiting…
Stepping from the shower, she saw Sarah at the sink brushing her teeth. Sarah was the one person who had stood by Megan from day one of her 'new life' - meeting her shortly before Harry and Megan had called it quits - their disastrous affair that ended two marriages awash with paranoia and suspicion. After all, if your partner cheated on someone to be with you, how could you be sure he/she wasn’t cheating on you to be with someone else? She and Harry never were the same after that day at the track when the revelation was revealed about the affair they were having. Ultimately, that paranoia drove Harry insane and caused him to lash out in an attempt to kill but ironically caused his own life to end. Funny, Megan thought as she dried her hair with the dark blue towel, she never really missed Harry after he stormed out that one night. Actually, it had been somewhat of a relief to see him go. Deep down inside, in a part of her that even she didn’t look very often, she still loved Dan. But now, how could that ever work? She was with Sarah now, and it WAS working.
Slipping closely up behind Sarah and looking over Sarah’s shoulder in the mirror, she saw her smile while finishing the work with the Sonic Toothbrush. Sarah was beautiful – inside and out –Sarah brought friendship to Megan's life first. Friendship that she needed badly… then, more came later. More than Megan had ever dreamed about, especially with another woman. But, it came easily and naturally and there she stood this night, standing behind her best friend in the world. Would Dan understand, she mused, reaching around Sarah’s bare waist and pulling her close to her own bare skin?Did it really matter if he did or didn't anyhow? Just at that moment of soul-searching, Sarah reached up over her shoulder and touched Megan’s cheek softly… giving her just what Megan needed tonight. Reassurance – and a little bit of reality.
Over in the bay, the Marauder sat silent for the night. Megan had noticed the boost was up a little and had made a mental note about it but hadn’t noticed anything else amiss. Even the EGT gauge was right on as were the O2’s and knock so it shouldn’t be a problem, but still – she would have take a look at the programming of the last chip they had put in. Perhaps a little too much curve in it? What ever it was, Stan would find it.
But now the garage was a little more crowded, not only with Sarah’s Accord but also with Megan’s newest toy. Actually, it was an inheritance she got from her Uncle William. William was an oddball to many, having never married and not having any kids (that he knew of). Many suspected his lifestyle may have been of the ‘alternative’ kind but there never was any solid proof. After all, just because a guy doesn’t marry does not mean he’s gay, right? So, his family told themselves that for years but he question still lingered.
Yet, the answer never came. William died of a massive heart attack at the young age of 52, leaving his estate in its entirety to one person – Megan. Megan it seemed was his favorite niece. Well, actually his only niece but still, he left the entire fortune, car collection (the other 7 cars were in storage at another location), insurance monies, and properties to her alone, including the warehouse that she currently called home. No one in the area knew it and for that matter, very few even knew she was even IN the area. ‘Home’ was actually in Michigan, near Traverse City and on Lake Superior’s east shore. That was where she had met Sarah – on the beach one sunny August afternoon. Having forgotten her sunscreen, Sarah offered to share hers (SPF 40) and their inseparable friendship began which led them to where they were now. Standing together naked in a fashionably remodeled warehouse sharing room with two cars – a sick Marauder and the Orange ’69 Charger next to it.
The Charger was a story in itself. William had found it through a friend of a friend, sitting covered in a barn beneath two ratty tarps that were held down by an assortment of junk, dirt, pigeon crap, and some scrap lumber. His buddy had been told that the old lady who owned the car had what she thought was a ‘Corvair’ for sale from her late husband, he had gone to look at it in hopes of it being one of the higher performance versions. But he could tell by the general outline beneath the tarps that this was definitely NO Corvair! Feeling along the B Pillar, he found the familiar recessed outline of the recessed metal. Down on the fender was the NASCAR style gas cap. And pulling up the first corner of flap he could, he saw a dirty orange fender opening that revealed some rally wheels with Firestone G series tires that had to be original – and very flat.
His heart quickened as he told William about the 440 – Six Pack hood scoop he could barely get to as well as shining the flashlight beneath the engine compartment to reveal what he was fairly certain was INDEED a big block Mopar that looked completely original. Having questioned the old lade, she only knew that her husband had bought it at Hildebrand Dodge in early 1970, drove it a couple of times before suffering a stroke that put him in a nursing home for over 20 years. He had died long ago and she was only now getting around to selling the place.
When Stefan pointed out that this car was worth much more than the $3300 dollars she was asking for it, the sweet woman’s eyes moistened. She said that that was ok, she didn’t really need the money anyhow and that she was so taken with his honesty that he could still have the car for the same price. He just had to get it out of her barn by the next Saturday and of course, she couldn’t help him, what with her ‘arther-itis’ and all. So, he had called William who bought the car, cleaned it up (finding only 1320 miles on it – an ironic number he thought) and added it to his collection. And now, it was Megan’s – and she had a plan for this car…
‘So, Dan… how’s it hangin’?’
Dan stood up and looked around the raised hood of his Buick. It was Carl and someone he hadn’t seen for a while – Jenny. Carl and Jen had one of those on again/off again relationships and no one ever could understand why. They both were SUPER-nice people and seemed to get along swimmingly. They just never took the plunge.
‘Did I surprise you, Danny?’ asked Jen.
Wiping his hands with an orange shop towel and walking towards Jen to give her a hug, he laughed.
‘Jen, you couldn’t have surprised me more if I had woke up this morning with my hair sewn to the carpet! Nice to see you!’
They embraced and heard the door open from the house. It was Sally. ‘Jenny!!!’ she screamed, running now to get in on the hugs. ‘What brings you here?’
‘Well, you know Carl – he’s always talking cars and of course, Danny’s Buick came up first. He told me how you guys ran this big black car and LOST?’ the surprise not lost in her voice.
Dan shrugged and Sally just nodded her head in agreement. It was Dan who spoke next.
‘Well, you know how it is, Jen… there is always someone out there, sooner or later, that is a little faster than you. This ‘ANNIL8R’ car – and by the way, it’s one of those new Mercury Marauders but it is definitely NOT stock – is one that is faster than mine. Not many are, but this guy’s IS.’
Jenny’s face was somber as she listened.
‘What if I told you that that ‘ANNIL8R’ car is not just ‘some guy’s’ car?’
Dan frowned… ‘Why do you say that? Do you mean it’s a guy I know?’
Jenny’s face was very serious now, the smiles gone...
‘Oh, it’s much more than that, Danny – much more. Actually, I doubt that are going to believe one word of what I’m about to tell you….’
To be continued…
Stretching as she stepped into the shower, Megan felt oddly tired yet wide awake having just got home from the most recent street encounter – the one with a GNX. As the warm, stinging water hit her skin her mind wandered about the night’s events and she had to admit that she was quite surprised by how hard it was to beat the Buick. Stan had told her after he finished helping her dyno-tune the Merc that there really shouldn’t be anyone on the street that would give her much competition but obviously he was wrong – the X was more than just a handful. It took everything the Marauder had to pull ahead at the end and that concerned her somewhat. Yet, the bigger thought running through her mind wasn’t the race or how close it was; rather, it was how was she going to be able to get Dan to meet up with her again… somewhere she could talk with him and hopefully warn him about what was coming.
After all, she knew that he most likely wouldn’t want to talk at all, especially after she crushed his fragile male ego a week ago on the street. And she knew that Sally definitely would be having none of it either, having long ago told Megan that she hated her more than anything or anyone. Yet, Dan didn’t know she was back, nor did he have a clue that Megan was the mystery driver of the Marauder so her best hope was to lure him out somehow to another race and at a time when Sally wouldn’t be with him. But how could she do that? Then, she realized it was really easier than she was making it… much easier…
As he had so many nights before, sleep did not come easily. The Dream was there again… this time, it was a cacophony of sensual stimuli; dark, swirling and vaporous fog, cool and heavy, blocking sight out just inches from your face; pungent, dank aromas, like that of a wooded bog, heavy with rotting vegetation; silence… heavy, omnipresent silence punctuated occasionally by a sound of something (someone?) breathing VERY close by but not seen, or, a random voice out in the fog, almost a murmur that couldn’t be made out but sounding almost like someone moaning – or laughing?… then, a touch of something wet and low to the ground, as if IT just brushed against his leg to let him know IT was still there… waiting… waiting… for just the right time to do what IT had come to do… he couldn’t get away from IT. He tried to run but only fell each time, getting smattered in the face by water or slapped by wet, heavy leaves of some odd jungle-like vegetation… trying to get up and get free… get free of the fog, the sounds, the smells… running… running… falling… getting up… running…all the while, IT was still there, trailing him, waiting… just waiting…
Stepping from the shower, she saw Sarah at the sink brushing her teeth. Sarah was the one person who had stood by Megan from day one of her 'new life' - meeting her shortly before Harry and Megan had called it quits - their disastrous affair that ended two marriages awash with paranoia and suspicion. After all, if your partner cheated on someone to be with you, how could you be sure he/she wasn’t cheating on you to be with someone else? She and Harry never were the same after that day at the track when the revelation was revealed about the affair they were having. Ultimately, that paranoia drove Harry insane and caused him to lash out in an attempt to kill but ironically caused his own life to end. Funny, Megan thought as she dried her hair with the dark blue towel, she never really missed Harry after he stormed out that one night. Actually, it had been somewhat of a relief to see him go. Deep down inside, in a part of her that even she didn’t look very often, she still loved Dan. But now, how could that ever work? She was with Sarah now, and it WAS working.
Slipping closely up behind Sarah and looking over Sarah’s shoulder in the mirror, she saw her smile while finishing the work with the Sonic Toothbrush. Sarah was beautiful – inside and out –Sarah brought friendship to Megan's life first. Friendship that she needed badly… then, more came later. More than Megan had ever dreamed about, especially with another woman. But, it came easily and naturally and there she stood this night, standing behind her best friend in the world. Would Dan understand, she mused, reaching around Sarah’s bare waist and pulling her close to her own bare skin?Did it really matter if he did or didn't anyhow? Just at that moment of soul-searching, Sarah reached up over her shoulder and touched Megan’s cheek softly… giving her just what Megan needed tonight. Reassurance – and a little bit of reality.
Over in the bay, the Marauder sat silent for the night. Megan had noticed the boost was up a little and had made a mental note about it but hadn’t noticed anything else amiss. Even the EGT gauge was right on as were the O2’s and knock so it shouldn’t be a problem, but still – she would have take a look at the programming of the last chip they had put in. Perhaps a little too much curve in it? What ever it was, Stan would find it.
But now the garage was a little more crowded, not only with Sarah’s Accord but also with Megan’s newest toy. Actually, it was an inheritance she got from her Uncle William. William was an oddball to many, having never married and not having any kids (that he knew of). Many suspected his lifestyle may have been of the ‘alternative’ kind but there never was any solid proof. After all, just because a guy doesn’t marry does not mean he’s gay, right? So, his family told themselves that for years but he question still lingered.
Yet, the answer never came. William died of a massive heart attack at the young age of 52, leaving his estate in its entirety to one person – Megan. Megan it seemed was his favorite niece. Well, actually his only niece but still, he left the entire fortune, car collection (the other 7 cars were in storage at another location), insurance monies, and properties to her alone, including the warehouse that she currently called home. No one in the area knew it and for that matter, very few even knew she was even IN the area. ‘Home’ was actually in Michigan, near Traverse City and on Lake Superior’s east shore. That was where she had met Sarah – on the beach one sunny August afternoon. Having forgotten her sunscreen, Sarah offered to share hers (SPF 40) and their inseparable friendship began which led them to where they were now. Standing together naked in a fashionably remodeled warehouse sharing room with two cars – a sick Marauder and the Orange ’69 Charger next to it.
The Charger was a story in itself. William had found it through a friend of a friend, sitting covered in a barn beneath two ratty tarps that were held down by an assortment of junk, dirt, pigeon crap, and some scrap lumber. His buddy had been told that the old lady who owned the car had what she thought was a ‘Corvair’ for sale from her late husband, he had gone to look at it in hopes of it being one of the higher performance versions. But he could tell by the general outline beneath the tarps that this was definitely NO Corvair! Feeling along the B Pillar, he found the familiar recessed outline of the recessed metal. Down on the fender was the NASCAR style gas cap. And pulling up the first corner of flap he could, he saw a dirty orange fender opening that revealed some rally wheels with Firestone G series tires that had to be original – and very flat.
His heart quickened as he told William about the 440 – Six Pack hood scoop he could barely get to as well as shining the flashlight beneath the engine compartment to reveal what he was fairly certain was INDEED a big block Mopar that looked completely original. Having questioned the old lade, she only knew that her husband had bought it at Hildebrand Dodge in early 1970, drove it a couple of times before suffering a stroke that put him in a nursing home for over 20 years. He had died long ago and she was only now getting around to selling the place.
When Stefan pointed out that this car was worth much more than the $3300 dollars she was asking for it, the sweet woman’s eyes moistened. She said that that was ok, she didn’t really need the money anyhow and that she was so taken with his honesty that he could still have the car for the same price. He just had to get it out of her barn by the next Saturday and of course, she couldn’t help him, what with her ‘arther-itis’ and all. So, he had called William who bought the car, cleaned it up (finding only 1320 miles on it – an ironic number he thought) and added it to his collection. And now, it was Megan’s – and she had a plan for this car…
‘So, Dan… how’s it hangin’?’
Dan stood up and looked around the raised hood of his Buick. It was Carl and someone he hadn’t seen for a while – Jenny. Carl and Jen had one of those on again/off again relationships and no one ever could understand why. They both were SUPER-nice people and seemed to get along swimmingly. They just never took the plunge.
‘Did I surprise you, Danny?’ asked Jen.
Wiping his hands with an orange shop towel and walking towards Jen to give her a hug, he laughed.
‘Jen, you couldn’t have surprised me more if I had woke up this morning with my hair sewn to the carpet! Nice to see you!’
They embraced and heard the door open from the house. It was Sally. ‘Jenny!!!’ she screamed, running now to get in on the hugs. ‘What brings you here?’
‘Well, you know Carl – he’s always talking cars and of course, Danny’s Buick came up first. He told me how you guys ran this big black car and LOST?’ the surprise not lost in her voice.
Dan shrugged and Sally just nodded her head in agreement. It was Dan who spoke next.
‘Well, you know how it is, Jen… there is always someone out there, sooner or later, that is a little faster than you. This ‘ANNIL8R’ car – and by the way, it’s one of those new Mercury Marauders but it is definitely NOT stock – is one that is faster than mine. Not many are, but this guy’s IS.’
Jenny’s face was somber as she listened.
‘What if I told you that that ‘ANNIL8R’ car is not just ‘some guy’s’ car?’
Dan frowned… ‘Why do you say that? Do you mean it’s a guy I know?’
Jenny’s face was very serious now, the smiles gone...
‘Oh, it’s much more than that, Danny – much more. Actually, I doubt that are going to believe one word of what I’m about to tell you….’
To be continued…
