Chapter 10 "Redline"

"Never trust anybody more than you are forced to. It helps with damage control later on." I have a huge problem with breaking this rule. My friends have and will always be my vulnerability. But you didn't hear that from me. I got up from my computer, and walked outside. The cold air wrapped around me like a forsaken blanket as I moved outside. I dialed into my Amsterdam VoIP server, which routed my phone call through 3 European countries free of charge and then made the call to Alex's cell. This made things convenient for keeping my identity a secret. And if they needed to call me, they got the international number. Foolproof.
"One day and already problems Alex? I'm disappointed."
"Don't be Soul, it was a stupid Philadelphia lackie who fucked this one up."
"I don't share the same stock of trust for those people as you. Call the others, it's time for a meeting."
"First of all, it's a cousin of mine. And second of all, since when did I become your secretary?"
"Lets see, Alex." I put stress on her name to prove my point. "Am I clear?"
"Ugh." And she hung up.
Sorry, Alex but you're still a Rook on my side. Regardless of my respect for you. I felt no remorse for my exploitation, for the simple fact that it was necessary. I returned to the confines of the movie theater, and examined my computer again.
"Terminal01#(unknown routing address): Meeting at 5:00. Be punctual."
Rook A6 to A8. I told Max I was going to have to adjourn for a while, in short words. My car was awaiting me, just as I left it. Only now it toted two orange slips of paper. Parking in front of a fire hydrant and expired inspection. God damn it. I tore them from underneath my windshield wiper and stuffed them into my glove box. I'll save those for a rainy day. My car started and hummed expectantly. Eager to be driven.
I took off down Fifth Avenue with a bit more speed than I should've, but I didn't care. A pedestrian waved at me to slow down. "I appreciate the suggestion, Asstits." I had no tolerance for people who did that. My car screeched as I made the turn onto Sandford Boulevard, and right onto Hutch South. Too much speed there I guess. As I came up the on ramp, I braked and shifted into first gear. My adrenal glands were ready to cleanse my mind of all thoughts for the upcoming trip. Without a second though, I floored it.
My car roared with life as I was pushed into the soft fabric of my seat. 4k, 5k, 6k, Redline. "Shift." 60,70,80,90. "Shift." I said the word aloud to myself as if commanding my lifeless body to listen. 4k, 5k, 6k, Redline. "Shift." The entire moment was liquid. Fluid and out of control. Alice in Chains began to blast out of my speakers. "I feel so alone, Gonna end up a big ol' pile of them bones." I screamed the lyrics with all my might. 100,110,120... "Cmon, Baby, Cmon!" I yelled at my car to reach the speed of light, where nothing matters anymore. Forth gear was not as giving to me as it's predecessors, and I was forced to slow down before I could reach my favorite speed. 130. Pause.
Remember, when I said that sleeping was the only time I really felt free? Thats not completely true. Driving is the only other time I felt free and thoughtless. When I drive, I act completely on impulse and it works very well. When I drive like I do, I'm no longer connected to the reality that I dwell in daily. I create my own, and it is empty. And it is wonderful.
Play. My movement down the highway was now largely obstructed. I barely held 50 miles an hour. I was lucky to get the short run that I did considering rush hour was imminent. I arrived at 5:05. So much for being punctual. I parked in my usual spot on Mayflower, and walked in the newly minted night. Like I said, short days are especially shorter when you sleep late. The city was alight with life, which is characteristic of the early night. We didn't have the shielding of our deeply nocturnal lifestyle to protect us from others. I repeated my actions from my first visit. Stash all the items in my pockets. Hide my car keys underneath my rear bumper. Hide the screen and iPod. Being meticulous was important.
The cars made sloshing noises as they passed by me in the street. There was something I always enjoyed about city blocks that my small town didn't have. It was the ambiguity of the small town blocks, that made me dislike them. I always appreciated the defined aspect of the city. Organized into sectors, of mostly even length. It was an organizational maniac's wet dream. The trees down here equally as bare as in my neighborhood, and a cold wind found nothing to rustle on those branches. It instead turned it's attention to me, walking down the sidewalk. I however, breathed in deeply the air that it attacked me with. Fresh air was something something I could always appreciate.
I took my time, walking up those steps, and awaiting the front door. Four kids were riding down the block on their bikes. They laughed and yelled. "Sup whitey." I laughed too. I'm not sure if I was laughing at them, or at myself. I turned back to see the large black door open and awaiting my entrance. But it contained no one but the blank, dark room. I guess thats a token for being late. Time for business.

(End Chapter 10.)