They chose me because I am the only driver who can hear the rhythm of the asphalt.
End of Log – Skacat, City Car Driving, 100 Masin.
"They're not lost," I said, lighting a cigarette with a shaking hand. "They're still out there. Wrecked, burning, scattered across forty kilometers of city." skacat- city car driving 100 masin
Lumen's voice came back, quiet. "You lost fifty-three."
The counter stopped at forty-seven.
I stepped out of the roofless Ram-9. My knuckles were white bone. My one good eye was bleeding from the pressure.
I didn't brake.
I accelerated.