Driven Pt. 1

Nick reached down in front of the seat and eased it back. The interior of the aging GTO was shadowed over by the Metropolitan Art Museum. The enormous stainless steel block lay upon the earth like a beached whale. It housed an impressive variety of sculptures and paintings, but today Nick and his brother were only interested in one particular piece; a sculpture called Carga de Toro. Eddie must’ve been tangled up somehow. Nick had never waited in the frigid old Pontiac so long for his brother to pull off a heist. This was frustrating. He tossed back and forth the idea of leaving Eddie to be picked up by the cops, but he knew that, if he did, he’d be in trouble once he arrived back home. The old geezer’s jobs always took top priority, even if it meant narrowly avoiding being thrown in the back of a police cruiser. He released his grip from the key fob and lay back down on the tanned, dusty seats. Looking up at the ceiling, Nick fondly remembered when he had first found the GTO. Looking at him from atop a set of cinder blocks in the uptown maze of apartments, it had beckoned to him miserably. Eventually, he had returned, repaired it, tuned it to his liking and began to call it his own. His joyful flashback was promptly interrupted by the obnoxious whine of his phone. He reached between the seats to the center console and grabbed it. There was one new text which read,
“Jacque! Jacque! Start the engines! ”
Nick smirked and retorted with,
“Very funny, Indiana Jones. I trust you’re not being tailed by any Indians.”
Before he could send the text off, he was caught off guard by someone tapping on the window. He whirled around expecting to see a police officer, but was pleasantly surprised to see Eddie smiling and carrying something concealed under a small dirty cloth. As soon as Nick unlocked the doors, he jumped in and quickly announced,
“I got the bull! Let’s get outta here!”
Almost in an instant, the large stainless steel building lit up with alarms, notifying the brothers that it knew of their presence. As if by primal instinct, Nick leapt forward from his reclined position along with the seat and turned the key. The powerful V-8 roared to life and shook the brothers with its intimidating power. He shoved the accelerator to the floor and the GTO leapt forward in an incredible burst of speed. Eddie laughed tauntingly as security guards poured from every door of the museum. Some held their walkie-talkies to their ears, calling a report in to the local police. A description of the car, no doubt, was included.
As the GTO rumbled up the highway ramp, Eddie turned on one of the 3 different radios installed neatly in the center of the dashboard. Voice after voice poured into the cabin, summoning reinforcements in dealing with the renegade muscle car. The voices knew they would need all the assistance they could get their hands on. The GTO was well-known to them (the police), as it was number one on a list of the 3 most notorious “job” vehicles in all of San Esteban, the other 2 being a Cadillac Eldorado and a Datsun 240Z. They listened intently for any sign that they had been spotted getting on the highway. Weaving in and out of traffic, they headed towards the city’s “Unofficial Business District”, as it was called, a massive uptown district where many a seedy, underground business deal was performed. Today, they wouldn’t get to hand their loot to the boss personally, but would have to pass it on to another driver deep in the uptown “mobile mob” territory for security purposes. The brothers’ gang, The San Esteban Nobles (Nobles for short), was in complete control where they were going. Suddenly, on the upcoming ramp, a sea of rotating lights and shrill sirens pulled alongside them from the service road. Nick swerved across several lanes to gain some space from this angry crowd of cops. The frantic air in the car’s movements was escalated by an unsettling half-grin that came across his face. Eddie was well aware of what this grin meant; Nick’s dark side had come to play. He threaded the growling GTO relentlessly through traffic, daring the swarm of police to follow. Some who were foolish enough to do so only managed to crash their cars into hapless citizens commuting to work. Some plowed through the barriers and fell almost ten stories to a crushing, metallic death. Some followed Nick’s driving turn for turn. These, the brothers knew, were the one’s they’d need a bit of “help” in dealing with. As the highway descended to Earth, Nick pulled into the center of the five lanes heading southbound and slowed down to bait the cruisers into catching up. Two shabbily generic Crown Victoria police cars pulled forward to accept the challenge. Pulling up on either side of the Pontiac, the two pairs of cops eyed Nick angrily while he just smiled back. In the car to his left, the driving officer’s partner loaded a shotgun with a frustrated look plastered on his face, occasionally looking up to glare at the GTO’s driver and his right hand man. Nick’s attention turned back to the road as soon as he heard the pump of the shotgun. The barrel was shoved out the window of the cruiser, aimed at the head of the growling muscle car’s driver. The officer hesitated for what seemed an eternity while the barrel of the gun bounced up and down with the cruiser on the dilapidated, old freeway. He finally gripped the barrel with all his might and fired a blind shot at the GTO. Nick then gently squeezed the brake and eased out behind the 2 Crown Vics as the trigger was pulled. A rain of shot bombarded the other police cruiser causing it to veer off the road and sink into a large drainage ditch. As soon as Nick saw that the damage was done, he slammed his foot on the gas and rocketed off ahead of the pack of cruisers losing them in the traffic.
As they exited the freeway, Nick headed to the rendezvous point with the other driver. Unfortunately, this other guy would be getting paid more by the old man simply for having brought the statue to him. “Looks like another day’s work is over. Eh, Bro?”
said Eddie with a terrible fear still latched tightly to his mind.
“Not yet,” said Nick, “We haven’t dropped this off yet. There could always be more Blue Lights waiting for us at the checkpoint. We have to stay alert.”
Eddie was afraid he might say that. Nick had seemed to be taking the job a lot more seriously lately. He often wondered what had happened to the brother he had spent an entire childhood with, dreaming of becoming a “job” driver team someday. They had made it, but somehow the job wasn’t always what it was hyped to be. They were lucky to still be on the road. Many rookie drivers didn’t even last a couple weeks before being caught by the fuzz and sentenced to rot in jail for eternity. The state government were frustrated by the everyday commonality of “job” drivers and their dangerous actions, so naturally, there were enormous penalties tied to being a driver if you were caught. The minimum sentence was 80 years imprisonment, a reasonable amount of time for one to slowly turn into a walking skeleton in the state penitentiary. There were a select few drivers who had been executed because they were just too cunning for the police to handle, but Eddie wasn’t afraid of that. He was, in fact, afraid of Nick and the way his personal demons revealed themselves whenever he drove. Eddie almost hated riding in the GTO, for he felt he was always riding with a stranger who only bore a striking resemblance to his brother. All he could do was look out his window and sigh heavily.
“We’re here!” Nick beamed as they rolled into a old apartment complex’s parking lot.
After searching through the maze of buildings, Eddie spotted another car sitting in park with the motor running. It was another classic muscle car like theirs, a 1970 Chevy Chevelle and it was covered in garish Hispanic symbols from fender to fender and topped off with a Virgin Mary on the hood. The driver flashed his high beams at them, a sign that he could be trusted and that the coast was clear. They pulled up next to him in the next available spot and shifted into park as well. Nick had a sour look on his face as he rolled down the window to reveal his face to the other driver. Now Eddie knew that Nick hated handoffs more than anything in the job. There were also quite a few drivers that Eddie hated to see as well. When these happened on the same day, Eddie knew his brother was going to have a shitty day. He just watched and waited in the passenger seat as the Chevelle’s window rolled down to reveal a disgusting smile. The Chevelle’s captain had a greeting as loud as his paint job ready for them.
“Que onda Guero?!” He said in a boisterous, greasy tone.
“Yeah, no habla espanol Marco,” Nick retorted, “Let’s just finish this handoff so I can go home and sleep.”
The grin on the face of the Chevy’s pudgy driver swelled 2 sizes with that.
“Oh ho! Senor Nicholas is feeling too important to just hand me the statue? ¿Es así?”
Marco laughed in his greasy, disgusting tone and then smiled again at Nick.
“If you beat me to the old man’s warehouse, I’ll let you hand it to him personally.”
“You making fun of me, you cholo bastard?!” Eddie snapped.
“Whoa! Chill mijo. I’m a man of my word. I’ll give that statue back if you win. For now, though, hand it over.”
“That’s fine. Where are we goin’?”
“Bauman’s!”
“Since we’re goin’ there, wanna add a round of shots to the stakes too?”
“Don’t skip away from me, mijo. Give it to me.”
“Fine. Eddie, give the man his statue,” said Nick like an oil tycoon ordering his servants about.
Eddie emerged from his side of the car and quietly carried the bull around to the Chevelle’s passenger side door and returned to the GTO.
“Let’s start out after we exit this lot onto Lamar.” Marco ordered, “Eso es bueno?”
“Muy bueno. Let’s get it over with.”
Nick shifted into gear and followed the Spanish Chevelle to the exit. They checked to see if any cops or other cars were around and then pulled into the middle of the long stretch of asphalt that was Lamar Avenue, proceeding to the nearest traffic light. The light turned red as they slowed to a halt. They waited patiently what seemed for an eternity. Eddie switched on the car’s old FM radio. It had been a while since they raced with somebody besides the cops; They could use a little background music to race to. He turned the dial to 101.7, the alternative station. Surely they’d have something good on there.
“Hey there drivers!” the DJ uttered gleefully, “This is Jessie Ayers with a classic for you! Surely, you remember the Ramones?!”
Eddie smiled. He always tuned to this station just to listen to her. As he became mesmerized by Ayers’ voice, a drum cadence suddenly started in. It was Rock n’ Roll High School! As the drums echoed vividly through Eddie’s mind, Nick and Marco exchanged revs while they waited for the light. The moment Johnny Ramone started in on guitar, it turned green.
Later that day, as the sun began to set behind the waters of the bay, the disgruntled driver of the GTO rumbled through a quiet neighborhood dominated by immigrants.
“How the hell did I lose?” Nick mumbled to himself.
“Maybe you just need to chill for a bit, bro.” Eddie suggested halfheartedly.
“What? Are you stupid? I’m gotta get back out there to prove that we aren’t slipping behind.”
Nick, maybe you’ve forgotten, but we are the best
They pulled up to their humble abode, a warehouse on the far west side of downtown.
“You know what? I don’t need you pulling me down. Get out of my damn car.”
Eddie reluctantly slipped out of the car and shut the door only to watch Nick speed away down the street and turn the corner. He listened to the sound of the V8 as it faded away into nothing. His brother gone, he turned and gazed up at their home. It wasn’t much to look at from the sidewalk where he stood, but inside it had been converted to an upscale apartment complex. All of the rooms were furnished with various amenities that even some of the tycoons living in the Morales Park area of uptown would envy. The best part though is that it was built specifically for those on the “mischievous” side of the law. He slowly sauntered to the front door and produced a key card. As he walked in, he was welcomed by one of their neighbors, Emily. A small time car thief, Emily had made quite a profit off of any vehicle she could get her hands on. In fact, Nick and Eddie had several other cars in their underground garage which they had gotten as gifts from her, but Nick never drove them. He loved the GTO too much to drive another car.
“There’s one brother,” she said with a smile, “where’s Nick?”
“Out in God knows where, racing,” Eddie replied with heavy sigh, “He’s been obsessing over our status as ‘the best’ lately.”
“Sorry to hear that,” she quipped with a disappointed look across her face, “If you want we could go out or something.”
“Thanks, but I’m just not feeling up to it right now.”
He sat down across the lobby from her and buried his head in his hands without making a sound. On the verge of tears he mumbled to himself and wallowed in self pity. Suddenly, he felt a pair of arms enclosing around him and then a hand was stroking his back.
“You’re a lot different than your brother. You know that?” Emily sighed, “I think you should stay that way. I’ll bet your brother likes you just the way you are as well. If you talk to him, you can probably break through this ego that he’s built up and get him to realize what he’s doing wrong.”
“Why are you worried? It’s not like this has anything to do with you.”
“…But I do care about you. I don’t want you to be completely isolated from each other because of this. To tell the truth, I kinda see a bit of myself in you. My sister was like that and we just didn’t tak very much after she left to prove herself to the other drivers in town. I don’t even know where she is now. That’s why I want to help. I know you two are the best of friends and I don’t want to see you two pushed apart like my sister and I were.”
Eddie looked up at Emily and smiled before his faced melted back into a depressed frown.
“Thanks. I needed that,” Eddie quietly admitted, “I gotta go do some thinking on my own though. I’ll see you later.”
Emily smiled and watched after him as he walked to the elevator on the opposite side of the room and descended into the parking garage. The elevator fell several floors before stopping in front of the brothers’ modest collection. He eyed each car with scrutiny before deciding on the Mazda Miata sitting in the corner. He lowered the top and climbed in. With a heavy, reflective look on his face he revved the engine and rocketed out of the garage onto the surface street.

Hm. Interesting. This has a nice Fast and Furious vibe to it. I'm curious as to see where you're going with this.