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Bones marveled at the view spread out before him. He, Jessie, and a still-grumpy Rose—Jessie in the middle—were seated almost dead center in the stands, near the bottom of the U-shaped turn in the roadway and overlooking the incredible waterfront. Expensive-looking yachts lined the dock on the far side of the road, giving the boats’ owners an up-close view of the festivities.
The first car came screaming around the corner, the driver braking and shifting as it neared the U-shaped bend. They had apparently missed the opening announcements at the race’s start.
Bones smiled despite himself as the car approached and then quickly passed, accelerating out of the turn and hitting them with a sonic-boom-like concussion. As soon as the driver made the tight left-hand turn, the racecar, which looked more like a fighter-jet than an automobile, sped away and disappeared around a banking right curve, following the coastal road.
“This is so cool!” Jessie shouted, slapping Bones’ thigh repeatedly.
“It really is,” he agreed, impressed. Bones wasn’t a racing fan, but even he had to admit that was pretty awesome.
They were near the end of the first lap, only a quarter of a mile from the finish line, and the herd of drivers had already begun to thin out. Races were normally very bunchy at the start but as the cars fell into line, they generally came by one by one. It wasn’t until the last ten or so laps where the drivers started to take big chances. Once the end of the race was within sigh, they tended to drive like bat-shit-crazy high schoolers. Early on, however, they just wanted to make it deep into the contest without getting into a wreck.
“It takes impeccable reflexes and keen eyesight to succeed on this course,” Rose explained, stating the obvious with authority.
Duh.
Bones shrugged indifferently. “If Tony Stark can do it, anyone can.”
“Didn’t he wreck after getting attacked?” Jessie asked, leaning closer to him.
“Details,” he said with a dismissive wave. “He was doing just fine until Ivan showed up and cut his ride in half.”
“I didn’t know you were into superheroes.”
He shrugged. “Just the ones that can score hot chicks.”
Rose continued, not understanding the conversation about Iron Man 2. “Compared to your NASCAR, we Europeans have a much sleeker sport here.”
“I don’t like NASCAR,” Bones said. “It’s just hillbillies turning left for three hours.”
Three more cars whizzed by, all in a row. Then, they saw the first large group. Eight cars jockeyed for position as they neared the turn, fighting one another for dibs on who got to make the hairpin first.
A red and yellow car—it was moving too fast for Bones to make out a number or team logo—went low, trying to squeeze in between a blue and white variant and the left-hand wall. The aggressor was clipped from behind as its right rear wheel was struck and lifted.
Red and Yellow went airborne, using Blue and White as a ramp. The car was launched straight into the chain-link barrier between the track and the stands, obliterating some of its body in the process. Two more cars joined the mayhem and careened into the first two involved.
That was when Bones noticed just how low and feeble the barrier on the other side of the road was. It was only around four feet in height.
Fortunately, the dock appeared to be off limits to most of the general audience—but that didn’t include the people on the yachts.
A loose wheel went hurtling toward the nearest yacht. Bones gut clenched when he saw a girl—maybe six or seven years old—break from the group of panicked spectators to leap forward onto the dock and then hurry up and over the divider wall as the tire seemed to chase her.
She landed on the roadway and froze.
Bones was on his feet and moving before the girl hit the ground.
Trampling fellow spectators, he bounded down the bleachers, heading straight for a gap in the damaged fence. As he moved, he shouted for the astonished onlookers to “move it or lose it.” Luckily, many of the spectators were already on their feet to gawk at what was happening, which gave him the opening he needed to leap the final two rows of seats. He gripped the fence, shimmied up and over to drop the ten feet to the asphalt below.
The girl was huddled against the inside wall, paralyzed with fear. Bones was about to dash across the road toward her, but before he could, two more Formula One machines rounded the bend and came barreling towards them. Both cars were fighting for control of the inside lane to avoid the problem and were evidently oblivious to what was going on right in front of them.
The second of the cars came in too hot and sideswiped Blue and White as it tried to avoid the wreck. Its rear end went sliding straight at Bones as it spun. Eyes wide, he jumped back onto the chain-link fence and lifted his lower half off the ground. He was buffeted by the wind rolling off the vehicle’s spoiler as it passed beneath him.
The other car missed the girl by mere inches. The slipstream of the car’s passage sucked her away from the barrier, causing her to flop forward onto the road. It was only luck that had spared her and there was no guarantee that her luck would hold. With the shape of the turn, the cars would be unable to see her until it was too late to change course.
Bones dropped down, and with only a quick glance to make sure that he had an opening, bolted across the track. Miraculously, he made it, but as he reached her, he felt the road began to tremble underfoot.
More cars were coming.
In one motion, he gripped the back of the girl’s shirt and threw her over the barrier, practically falling over with her. He allowed his momentum to carry him over, tucking his legs in as he rolled across the narrow dock to plunge into the water below. The girl stayed close and he held onto her shirt before going under.
He quickly kicked to the surface all the while trying his damnedest not to let go of the girl. He wasn’t sure if she knew how to swim or not and now wasn’t the time to figure it out by trial and error.
They surfaced together, met with the sound of screams and sirens. A multitude of hands reached down for them. Bones helped two men hoist the much smaller girl up first, before allowing them to attempt to pull him out. It took three guys to get him back up on dry land.
He spilled to the dock and rolled onto his back and was immediately tackled by the sobbing child. A few seconds later, another man, looking a little shell-shocked, pulled her away from Bones. From the way she latched onto the newcomer, Bones guessed it was her father.
“Next time,” Bones said, panting, “I won’t be there to save her.” He struggled to his feet. “Watch your kid.”
The man frowned. Apparently not understanding English.
Bones looked up into the clear-blue, Mediterranean sky and closed his eyes. Calming a little, he opened them and looked down at the drenched girl. She appeared to be in a state of shock herself, staring off into nothing.
“Hey, kid. You okay?”
She might not have understood his words, but she got the gist. She managed a tiny smaile and a nod.
“Stay close to your old man, okay?”
Finished playing the role of lifeguard, he turned and planted a hand on the divider, easily hopping over it. His boots squished when he landed. Weaving between mangled heaps and already arrived medical units, Bones climbed back up the chain-link fence and dropped back down on the other side. The fact that he wasn’t forced to dodge any incoming cars told him that the rest of the field had passed their position.
“Holy hell, Bones!”
He looked up and found Jessie standing a step higher than him, now eye level with him. He glanced down at the dribbles of water still rolling off his saturated clothes. “I guess I’ve got an excuse to take my clothes off.”
Jessie smiled and held up her keycard. “Let’s go.”