Frank looked at his friend. He'd never seen anyone bent like that.
He knew there was no chance. Right hand crossed chest, eyes swung upwards.
In the crowd, Eddie matched the gesture.
"Did you see that guy get hit by the tyre?" asked Jerry, standing next to him, straining to get a better view.
"Yeah, I saw," said Eddie, feeling nauseous.
"So gnarly, huh?" Jerry continued. "I'm glad you dragged me here now."
"You're sick, you know that?"
"The world is sick, my friend." Jerry replied, smiling. "I'm just here for the show."
Eddie wasn't listening. He had spotted something on the track. "See that? Down there on the track." He pointed emphatically.
Jerry followed his gesture. "What's that? A bit of car?"
"I'm not sure. I think it moved." Gerry leaned closer, barely daring to breathe.
After a brief moment's contemplation Frank checked the track, where he had seen the body fall.
He made out the soft trail of smoke before he saw the tangled mass on the floor.
His body outpaced his brain, and he was sprinting towards the track at full pace without a moment's consideration. He looked up the track, and could see cars approaching rapidly. No pace car yet.
Feet went from grass to tarmac, and he knelt over the buckled, blackened figure. He couldn't get a pulse. Breath warmed his cheek as he held it over charred lips.
"Can you hear me, mate?." There was no response. Trained confidence set in. "You're going to be fine. The medics are on their way."
Frank could hear the wail of the siren slowly growing in intensity. There was another sound, more consistent, raging in the background.
He turned to look behind, and saw the carbon fibre blade rounding the corner. The noise spiked as it accelerated, hounded by the car behind. He looked back at the crumpled figure, indecision gripping him.
He grabbed Courtney's arm, hauling him up from the floor. He just had time to hear the tyres screeching before the pair took to the air, flipping like tattered ragdolls.
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