Hey! I’ll be you thought I wasn’t posting today. Well . . . I’ve been busy. Doing what, you say? A whole lot.
First off, there’s yesterday, and where I went after I posted. I went here:
That was taken from one of the overlooks on Skyline Drive, the main–and just about only–road through Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. After posting I drove home, changed, and headed down I-81 to the park, which is a little over two hours from Harrisburg. The trip there goes through one of only two places in the United States where you can travel through four states in under forty miles, and, if you’re speeding like mad, you can do it in under thirty minutes on I-81.
The only other place you can do this? Here, at Four Corners, where Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah come together.
It was a time to relax and decompress, and actually drive around with the windows open, because the sun was shining and the air was considerably cooler a quarter of a mile, or four hundred meters, higher than the surrounding territory.
It was a good time:
And I had a great meal to top off most of the day.
I managed one panorama scene.
And managed to get a full-body picture of myself at the same location.
But that was yesterday–why so late today?
Well, because writing. Because just over seventeen hundred words today. Because . . . I passed one hundred and twenty thousand words.
This is about the fastest I’ve burned through ten thousand words in a long time–twelve days–and I didn’t want to stop until I finished this scene. Because . . . I looked at my layout on the left side and thought, hey, I could split that into another chapter. Because looking at what’s come, and what’s coming, it does make sense to put it off on its own.
And this last scene is a strange one, because I think it’s the first one I’ve written in about a half a million worlds that has no dialog. In fact, I think I know–without looking–which scene I wrote that was nothing but descriptions, and that scene would have been written right around 24 July, 2013, because I wrote it during Camp NaNo 2013. Like I said, about a half a million world later–that’s a lot of writing with someone talking somewhere.
The scene is racing, all kinds of racing. First, though, let’s look at the teams:
Mórrígan A Team
Malaya Lacsina — F Philippines
Nadine Woodley — D United States Captain
Argus Pelham — D Tasmania
Nattat Adriano — C Angola
Emmalynne Neilson — B United States
Cernunnos A Team
Manco Mamani D Peru Captain
Darius Roy D Canada
Penelope Rigman C England
Alexandria Chorney C Ukraine
Kerry Malibey B Wales
And because there’s a lot of things happening in the scene, let me set it before showing you the last part.
Everyone’s racing in a ten-person pack. The race runs between fifty and sixty minutes, and it’s mentally exhausting. Also, there’s this:
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
It was on the forth lap, as they were coming out of Sunrise and heading into the Esses, that Kerry—who was running just on the outside of the main pack—made a move towards the front. He was good in the Esses and used that to his advantage, and he knew if he was lucky he could find himself up near the front as they soared over Polar Jump and dove into Polar Turn. He was up to fifth and moving into forth when Emma flew two-thirds of the way across the course to throw a wicked block on him. He cut slightly to his left and she nearly flew back into him before he went up and back to seventh.
Kerry was given all the hint he needed: if he wanted to get up to the front, he was going to have to push his way past Emma, and one of them was liable to get physically hurt in the process.
It’s clear: Emma will jack his soul mate loving ass if he tries to pass her. And that leads to the last lap, and if you follow most racing, it’s where a lot of drivers get their stupid on full-time. These kids aren’t any different . . .
It was a mad dash from there to Reservoir, and what Kerry suspected was going to happen on this last straight began. Everyone prepared themselves for the last dash to the end, and he did the same. All that was left was to launch through the last two elevation gates and . . .
Manco, Emma, and Argus were first off, with Alex and Nattat right behind them. Darius kicked at Malaya, which was enough for Penny to get around them on the right, Nadine above, and Kerry skirting the lower left. He caught Malaya’s draft and closed on her as their speeds approached three hundred twenty-five kph, and at the last moment he cut to the right, going up between her and Darius. The Cernunnos boy looked ready to kick Kerry as well, but he was by him before he could fully react. Two seconds later Nadine was by him and hanging on Kerry’s processor, riding his draft while using her air bubble to push his forward.
The problem was there wasn’t a forward. The pack completely the south end of the bend and was now moving northeast, and there was nothing but a mass of fliers blocking his path. In a few seconds everyone was going to hit their air brakes going through the Diamond Chicane, and he knew a crash of some kind was coming. The lead was bunching up, not spreading out, and it looked like—
They hit the left hand turn of the chicane, and things went sideways fast. Fliers bounced off each other; Argus nearly turned sideways against traffic and Penny nearly dumped her broom to keep from running him down. Alex slid into Manco and pushed him aside as she tried to straighten out. Emma spun her broom around as she took the right hand section of Diamond and smacked Nattat with her processor, making the girl’s helmeted head jerk as the safety enchantments flared around them.
Everyone was piling up in front of Kerry, and he was about to be run down from behind. There was only one place to go—
He leaned over the length of his broom and dropped to the bottom of the course. Everyone always flew high enough that there was usually a meter or two of open space under the racers, but with everything in flux that space had grown smaller. It was difficult getting through: it was even more difficult doing it at speed, while braking and turning, and the odds of making it through unscathed were slim.
He didn’t beat the odds. As he pulled his broom through the left-hand turn of the chicane, he heard the crackle of the safety enchantment at the same time he felt his knee let go: he’d gotten too low and scrapped the ground at better than a hundred and twenty-five kilometers an hour. Vicky’s warning instantly filed his thoughts: The safety enchantments don’t prevent you from getting hurt—they prevent you from getting extremely hurt or even killed. He bit his lip to keep from yelling and fought to bring his broom around through the right hand portion of Diamond, then pushed it hard forward.
Kerry launched himself towards the finish, willing every gram of acceleration he could muster.
He pulled to the left of the course and dropped his HUD so his line-of-sight was clear. He didn’t know how fast he was going, he didn’t know who was to his side or behind him—his concentration was on the course ahead of him. Emma and Alex were bumping into each other, fighting the whole way to the finish line, and that not only kept their speed down, but kept their interest off him. He headed straight at the finish line, hoping against all hope that nothing—
Emma glanced in her mirror before throwing her broom into a ferocious left side-slip bringing her all the way across the course.
Kerry pulled hard on the control frame. The broom began to slide around: the processor slammed into Emma’s shoulder and spun her off her broom and into the ground, while Kerry found himself flying forward without a broom under him.
He didn’t even have time to wonder if this throw would hurt as much as the last one before before he hit and blacked out . . .
Kerry worried someone was going to crash and burn–did he think it’d be him? The damnedest things happen when you piss off your wingmate.
What happens next? Well . . . I know what Kerry’s first three words will be if that helps.