The Captain: Side Story 2 - 4/9/10

The Captain has been published!!!
*Linky*/ Scroll Down

It'd be better with pictures. But nice story so far! 👍

vista2401

I’ve only won some small duels at Cathedral Rocks (honestly, why the heck is it called that?),

Click to expand...

That's what some settler or pioneer named the huge masses of rock which appear in the distance years and years ago.

Thanks PB, and DriftKing, what Resolution should i use (I'm using imageshack).

I'm using 640 by 800.

ok, thanks. I'm editing the start of the story, so it'll be completely different to what's up there now...

The story is going up in about a week.. i'm already 1 quarter of the way through...

EDIT:
I will double post to add the story

I
[Shut up, Mike]​

Holidays aren’t stopping me from going to church, even if I have superior Jet Lag.

After singing some Tahitian worship, I took a few thrilling laps around the local circuit, drove to the flats and let myself in. I couldn’t concentrate on having my holiday because there was a randy couple upstairs enjoying theirs.
The break in Tahiti was very nice; I had some good rallies with the locals in my rented Isuzu,
(just don't tell the rental company) caught some rays and went SCUBA diving.


I flew back to Yosemite, where I’ve practically lived in all my life (I actually live in Foresta). I was also happy to finally hop back into the racing. The very few tar and dirt roads around the National Park are great for rallying. A while back, some of the locals asked for a fortnightly weekdays in lighter areas of forest, and the Californian Government accepted, but only a little bit was cleared (everyone was fine with it, of course).

When I had a choice of what my car could be, I considered these cars.

I had the option of a Civic, but I’m allergic to rice.

Another Honda there was a ’90 NSX but it was too expensive and I only like the new ones.

A lovely Falcon was in the Auto Trader. Unfortunately it was imported all the way from New Zealand; therefore too pricey.

A Toyota Sera (that’s the weird, gullwinged, FF car), was option 2 – what? I liked it.

And then I saw the Captain...

He’s a two litre all-wheel-drive, but I can afford the petrol.


Recently, I moved from New Zealand. My dad got a promotion when he was working here, the company got new head-quarters just outside of Oakland, and he couldn’t resist for a few reasons: He got much, much more pay than when back home and my mum (yes, I'm still a Kiwi ) was an alcoholic, drug-abusing woman who cheated on Dad three times in the space of about two months.
I often drive to Yosemite with David, my cousin whom I’m flatting with in Foresta. And when I’m at Yosemite, I own,


Some of the time.


I walked up to the office one day to register for a race… no one knew who he or she would be versing. You could be practicing against Supras and lots of JDMs; you end up racing against Ford GTs, Nardos, Saleens and Merc-Mics. Of course, the only time you get a prize is if you do side bets, or even pink slips…. I’d never do that to The Captain: I’m too attached to him.
Anyway, I went up to Mike, the guy behind all the races, “Hi, Mike,” I said, “Sign me up for a race – a good race.
The pot-bellied Scotsman replied, “’Ello, Tom. I like the new wheels on The Captain,” he gave me a wink, “Race Seven ‘as an Evo One, an old Lexus, and a Legacy – the new one – an ‘Onda S2K, again, the new one, and um…” Mike checked his list, “A Toyota Celica, Nineteen-Ninety-Eight.”
“Seems like an easy race,” I responded, I turned around to go outside, and saw a tall(ish) woman standing behind me.
“I overheard that you’re in Race Seven. Yes?” she had a strong European accent, French, Italian?
"I'm Viktoria"
“My name’s Tom... Bosch.”
“Well, hello Tom Bosch, it is a pleasure to meet you"
I couldn't help asking "What country are you from? Just wanted to know"
She laughed and replied, "I get that a lot, I'm German, see you on the race track"
She turned and went out the door. I heard a low and quiet wolf whistle from behind me...
"Shut up, Mike" I chuckled.

Nice beginning!
I do not think I've read any stories involving off road racing!
This is going in a good direction!👍

Pitracer100

Nice beginning!
I do not think I've read any stories involving off road racing!
This is going in a good direction!👍

Click to expand...

Read more. drifting24/7's original story (Red-Line) saw his Civic go offroading a few times

Also, off to a good start here mate.

Is this the new start for the story?

yeah, it's the new start, before, i had very bad pics and instead of Viktoria, it was Andy - short for Andrea.

my brain is exploding with ideas, so i might even get in another chapter today

Ok, i couldnt get all the pics in, so probably tomorrow afternoon (i had the day off from school - got a cold )

i will double post - to add the next chapter...

II
[A Cross-Dresser in a Lexus]​

Looking at the cars, and the people in them, I predicted that I’d finish second or third, hoping I wouldn’t get killed by the 6 foot, tattooed red-head monster in the Lancer Evo. The bloke in the lexus looked like your average wannabe tuner. The car itself didn’t. The dude, or dudette, in the S2K seemed like the weird, cross-dresser who came to the wrong place at the wrong time. A weary-looking soccer mum in the Legacy – I guess she came here instead of the Casino, therapy, or a really tall object. And finally Schnell in the Celica. I had gut feelings for all these people. It’s called intuition.
“All, right laddies and wee lasses, start ye engines!!” Mike shouted from the starters’… area.
A noise the loudness comparable to that of a mid-sized airplane went up into the air.
“Get set, lads.”
Numerous revvs came from the six cars.
“Gae!!”
The soccer mum and Cross-dresser didn’t know what Gae meant in Scottish, and started later than the rest of the line-up. Us racers who have come for years found out, before, that it’s Scottish for go! My car had good acceleration for when it was built, and the four wheels gave it superb grip, so I think I was about fourth or fifth coming out of the first right-handed kink. I stayed in fifth place until the downhill after the uphill section, and overtook The Captain’s younger bro, the Evo I. I saw the red monster in the Evo salute me with a single, middle finger – he wasn’t too happy with my overtaking. The Soccer mum was having some fun, because she was thrashing me. The places stayed like this until the third and second last lap, when the monster tried overtaking me again. I’ll let the pictures explain…

...
...

I'll say that revenge is a dish best served at 100mph.

Might start my story up again (a bunch of people have, why not me? )
On with the story!!

III
[Catheter]​

I awoke to a migraine multiplied by twenty gazillion-billion plus three, and a dead arm. I had the sudden realisation that I had to pee. I titled my head up, to see a white room, and two people. Both male. I Blacked Out
Uh-oh, here come the flashbacks...

I remember Mike and his wolf whistle.
I remember the soccer mum,
the Red Monster,
the cross-dresser in the Lexus.
The Red Monster he shunted me,
then he... he...

"Tom"
What? Who's saying that?
"Tom!"
I opened my eyes again, a third person.
"Welcome to Oakland Hospital," an Asian voice told me, then i saw a light in my left eye, now my right.
"His eye movement is marginal." My eyes cleared enough to see an Asian man in a white coat leaning over me. I moved my eyes and saw his name tag - Shaun Shè.
"Good to see you with us, Tom. Can I get you anything?"
“Yes, can I have a toilet? I need to go, badly."
"Tom, your all hooked up."
“What, catheter and everything?”
He nodded, and left to get something.

Wow, that's embarrassing.

Dad walked up to my bed, “Hi son. How ya feeling?”
“Bit of a headache and it hurts to move, so what exactly happened?” I was feeling a bit woozy still, "I remember getting shunted by the Red-Head Monster, and... that's it. Did I spin out and crash into the tires or something?"
David informed me: I got, not shunted, but put out of control, and pushed into the tire wall, and then sideswiped by another car.
"Well, I hope I can race soon," I said.
He looked a bit grim, “I'm not too sure. We all know now that you suffered a strong concussion and a broken elbow, which is why it's in a cast.”
I gazed down. I have a cast on! I’m so out of it today!
"So, can I still race??" Hey, i was eager.. I love racing after all!
Dad seemed sad under all that blurriness (my eyes weren’t completely fixed by then – must’ve been some serious sedative), "Son, you head hit the steering wheel when you went into the wall, and it knocked about you 'Primary Motor Cortex'."
Even though I finished school back in New Zealand, I failed in Biology, and pretty much everything that's not physics-related, "My... what?"
I didn't notice Shaun coming back in, "It's the main part of the brain that affects your motor skills. We put you in an induced coma to...."
"Wait, I was in a coma?!"
"Yes, Tom. It was about three days. It's Tuesday now. As you asked, your Primary Motor Cortex affects a great deal of your movement. And as your Dad said, it got a bad knock when your head hit the wheel."
Shaun brought out a checklist on a clipboard, and asked me to do some simple tasks. Like my Biology, I failed.
I just wanted to move again. I don't know why I was just thinking about racing then, not about eating, not about walking again, not about being able to take a piss standing up. Did I get any more brain damage? Can I still work at my job? I didn't ask any of those things....
"Can I still race though?"
Dad looked more grimmer then before, like the Grim Reaper suffering from depression, "Son, you can't even drive...."


This time, I did faint...

Good work, Daniel. Great revival.

Nice to see more people are reviving their stories.

This seems really interesting, and I'd like to see the characters fleshed out a bit more. Keep up the good work!

I’ve been in hospital for a week now. My life’s been changed forever.
I have all of these weird dreams. Every few nights I have parts of my life come up. Three years old here, seven years there. Am I going to die? Is this my life flashing before my eyes, only slowly? Will I die in a few months? Of what? What are my dreams saying?
And it’s only gotten worse. When my head hit the wheel, my PMC got screwed up. Everything takes a struggle now. My reactions are very, very slow now. It’s ruining my life, the thought of not being as bright as I have before. I might lose my job. It requires a great deal of knowledge as I’m in the IT industry. All these codes, special formulas. It’s challenging. The doctors told me that I’ll have to stay in rehab for almost half a year. And after that I have to stay in the care of either David or Dad. Dad will have to cut down his hours, meaning cutting down his pay. I know I said earlier in Chapter One that his pay was good. But the travel business is getting worse because of the damn Recession, and more people are going on holidays within the US, he only does the Far Eat and Oceania. And he’s already working over time. David just got a full-time job with photography, but I’ve already been using his house as my home. I can’t have him give any more. So one person ruined the lives of three people. I hope the Red-Head Monster dies... Hell, I want to die! Get rid of it all.

Bit of an interlude for ya...

Keep at it! You're setting up for a very good read, I'd love to see how this all turns out in the end.

Wow! Good work, interesting chapter.

It's almost 1a.m.(

), so if this chapter sucks, please let me know

IV
[Discharged]​

​

There’s two-thousand and thirty-nine holes in each ceiling tile. There’s one thousand, four-hundred and seventy-two roof tiles in my room: Forty-six down, thirty-two across. A man in the left of the unit has been here for two weeks now. He coughs on average twelve times in a few minutes. Some coughs are tar, some are blood, some are phlegm. The rest of the time he is mostly sleeping. The girl on the right part has severe pneumonia. She was close to death, but slowly recovered, and is receding in this unit for now. She cries about once or twice a day, after all, it is scary for a nine-year-old girl to . At eleven in the morning she goes out with the other children and plays with them, bringing her drip with her. I’ve talked to her quite a few times, and she is quite nice, but wants to go home. The person in the middle is a twentysomething year old. He’s been in the hospital for almost four months, as what has happened to him is very uncommon, and so he’s had about eight MRIs about five CATs and almost daily rehab.
I am the middle man.
_________________________________

Tyra sucks. Daytime TV sucks. This Hospital TV Service sucks. I turned the Damn TV off before smashing my head through it, which wouldn’t be good to my head right now.
I heard a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I said sourly.
It was Shaun. He’s the only ‘real’ person who comes in to the unit. The Cougher died and the girl was getting much better so she’s now up in the Children’s Unit. Shaun is the bearer of news. He’s the one to notify me of treatments, when my next scan is gonna happen. But I always seem to smile when he comes in, he brightens up my hospital life. I’ve been paying him to get me decent food, not the horrid, ‘mystery meat’ they have down in the Caff (it’s a mix of turkey, ham and lamb). He came one day with a Big Mac, a clip board and a massive smile on his face.
“I’ve got your lunch, and some very, very good news,” he said.
I stared at him, as the last ‘good news’ was that I was starting to get a little bit better.
“Well?! What is it?”
“Your getting very better now, Tom. You’ve done very well on the medical exams. Your reactions are still a bit slow, and you’ll have to learn a lot more stuff, but you are going home!”
I stared at him some more. But my expression changed... something close to pure joy.
“So I can leave this hell hole? Can I still drive? What about my Job?”
I might even race again!
“Yes, I do hope. And your company called me, I told them that you needed a job that gives you little stress.”
“Sweet, I just care if I’m getting payed over minimum wage” I laughed.. I’m getting out of the hospital!!
“Well, they gave you two choices. Stay with your original job, or move to another city not around here for the less stressful job.”
“Well, where’s the other city in? Florida? Buffalo?”
“Ummm... no.”
“Where then?”
“It’s a cold town.”
“Well that’s obvious, somewhere north! Somewhere in Michigan?”
“No, a small town called Chamonix.”
I was puzzled, “Where the hell is that?”
“Western Border of France.”
...
🤬

I didn't even see this!

Well, this is shaping up to be interesting. Chamonix eh?

Chamonix? That would be a fun new challenge.

Gosh... it seems like another revival!

V
[« Quelqu'un a un tuyau coincé dans le cul... »]​

I sat there in shock.
“France? Well, if I’ve gotta go there I guess I should, but why the hell Chamonix? Why not Paris, or Tolouse?”
Shaun peered down at his clipboard, “Tom, sorry! I just quickly read out ‘Chamonix’. It’s a line down, showing places of interest near…” He looked down again, “Geneva, Switzerland”
Yes, this is confusing for me too, blame it on Shaun…
“Shaun, you really need….”
“Glasses. Yes, I know,” he agreed.
I looked up at the ceiling with the one thousand, four hundred and seventy-two tiles. I counted that out of pure boredom and despair. I’m finally getting outta here!
Shaun tapped my shoulder, “I’ll get your stuff. Your broken leg just came out of a plaster cast…”
“Thanks, mate.”
The Nurse walked around, gathering my belonging and putting them into an overnight bag David brought over when I first was admitted.
Shaun finished getting my stuff all together, “There you go. PlayStation, Laptop, Clothes, toiletries. Anything I’ve missed?”
I had a quick once-over and didn’t seem to spot anything, “Thanks so much, Shaun. I’m actually gonna miss you. You’ve been my like my guardian angel in this hospital.”
“I have?” he questioned.
“You’ve gotten me that decent food,” I laughed.
“Haha, true that.”
Shaun escorted me down to the hospital reception. The lady at the desk is like the stereotype librarian. She’s got these bad glasses, and her dress is one she wears every day. Her eyes tell me that she’s lost the will to live, like her soul has been one of the unlucky patients.
Shaun walked up to her, “Hi, Gladis.”
She obviously didn’t like being called by her first name; she made a grunt that made it clear.
“Sorry. Good morning, Ms Whyte. My friend Tom Bosch is leaving. Unit 5G, bed 5.”
She nodded grudgingly and typed slowly into her computer. It was an old Windows. Probably Blue Screened at least fifty times before. I wouldn’t trust it to do my banking.
“Done,” she mumbled, “Goodbye, Master Bosch.”
“Just call me-“
“Goodbye, Master Bosch.”
Someone’s got a rod up their arse.

I stepped outside for the first time. Well, for the first time as a ‘free’ man. I sucked some air in.
“Tom, you fat homo!”
I turned around to see who shouted that. It was David! He ran up to me and engulfed me in one of his bear hugs. We’re best mates and cousins at the same time. Well, why can’t we?
“Gidday, mate! How was your stay?”
“Mostly a hellish, but Shaun helped me stay alive (almost literally),” I laughed.
He opened the passenger door to his Black Primera.
“Well, hop in!”
I tried getting in myself, but the damn left leg still hurt. It had been broken in a few places and still was bruised, and it was in a bit of fabric. Not much. David helped me in and Shaun chucked my stuff in the boot… Ahem, Trunk.
He started the engine after trying several times, and we drove out of the car lot to Foresta.

Whaddya think?

Sweet! Another David! I like the name David!

Good chapter. Though I hate the Primera.

Aaaaaand I just nooooow noticed.

I should really pay more attention.

Good work! Nice chapter.

In progress of writing up another chapter as of now...

VII
[Monster]​

I told David about the hospital: Tyra, bad cafeteria food, Tyra, Shaun's takeout foods he got me, Tyra, Rachael Ray, Tyra and all the holes in the tile of the ceiling. I flipped to the radio news to catch a glimpse of what was happening around the world. Some Johnson guy in Japan winning a bunch of Road Races, the fact that you can buy small assault rifles at concession stands in Japan, and in Tokyo (everything happens in Japan!) a mass destruction run was caused by joyriders in a old Van, causing over three billion dollars in damage.
"Crap! Three Billion dollars!! In a frikkin' van?!" David exclaimed.
"I know, right? Must've been one helluva' van," I replied.
The Radio DJ finished up the news and popped some Skillet on the player.
It was chilly in the Primera, so I turned the knob to full blast. The cold reminded me of my future living quarters...
"I'm moving to Geneva," I mentioned.

David was in the middle of changing gear and shift from fourth into second, "Shiitake Mushrooms!" he said while struggling to shift into third," Why the hell are you moving to Europe?"
I explained the situation, "My boss reckoned that I should take a half-holiday, half-job somewhere. I suggested France, but he said Geneva. It's close, and his mate is a Principal at a local college there."
"College? There're people at college that are older than you! You finished very early!" He said.
I corrected myself, "I meant High School."
David laughed, "Haha, it's what you New Zeeeeeaaaaaaallanders say, don't ya?"
I replied sarcastically, "Ha-Ha... Anyway, he said that Genevois speak French, so I should be fine. And they also need an English teacher there: a lot of the pupils want to learn it."
"Cuz, you’re in your late Twenties, you can't speak much French, and you've just recovered from a near-fatal car crash!"
I pointed at my leg, "Still recovering, mate." Don't ya just love my humour?
Skillet ended and Coldplay started. Sweet, two of my fave bands back-to-back.
David asked, "Then when are you going, anyway?"
"Um, the end-of-term hol-"
"Hey!"
"Sorry, end-of-semester vacations almost start, and they're a fortnight. So about three weeks."
"Well," David said, "I'm glad MSN and Facebook's been invented."
I laughed, "I prefer Skype, anyway."
"Ok, but what about packing, and the Airplane tickets?"
"Remember? Dad's a Travel Agent," I mentioned.
"Yeah, in Oceania and Asia."
I replied, "Hey, he's got mates in the Company. It's global." I added, "It's also an Airbus A380. I can almost fit two whole cars in."
"Tom, you can't even drive," he hesitated, "You don't even have a car."
"Hey, hey. I'm a Petrol-Head. I can make a car-related analogy, can't I?"
"Touché, Tom," David smiled, "Touché."

I started to sleep after a second Coldplay Song finished playing. And woke up to the sound of crunching gravel. David got out and went over to help me out.
"Thanks." I muttered, still tired. I stifled a yawn.
"Don't mention it."
I looked up. This wasn't Foresta! I'm in the middle of Cathedral Rocks. On the start line. Odd.
Some pot-bellied guy came up to me.
"Great to have you back, mate," Mike shook my hand, "bit sad to see ya go away so soon."
I saw some more familiar faces. A few of the locals, a ranger or two, and a bunch of race coordinators. Some of my racing buddies caught my eye.
"Jake, Braeden!" I shouted.
I hobbled over to them on my bad leg. Might need some crutches for that soon, it's acting up.
Jake chuckled, "Tom, you didn't come last week!"
Braeden hit Jake's head. Jake's a few laps short of the race, if you know what I mean. He also smokes weed, which kinda helps my accusation.
"So, no leg cast this time?" Braeden asked, while finishing off a noogie to Jake.
"Naw, just a bit of crappy cloth," I replied.
"Ahh, well. Can you again?"
"Yup, gonna need to retake the test, though." My reactions can still be quite slow.
"Let's hope so, otherwise we wasted a whole lotta money," Jake muttered.
Braeden sack tapped Jake, "Jake, you retard! Shut up!"
"Well, the surprise has been ruined by Jake, might as well show him now," Braeden sighed.
Everyone suddenly cleared out of the road, and a white car was visible from one end, kicking up a great deal of dust. I saw it clear the jumps, and drift as it slowed down to me.
I just had to look at it...
You just have to look at it...
Look at it...

Everyone was looking at it.
Dad got out of the car. He walked up to me.
"Tom, this is a Mine's Evo Six. We've had it Rally Prepared and it's barely road legal. It's a mixture of several things. A parting gift for Switzerland, a get well gift for you, and a replacement for your old Galant."
I was astonished, "How much did this cost you?"
"Everyone paid for it here," he replied.
I looked around, Mike smiled and wave, then race organisers gave me a round of thumbs up. I just stood there, in Shock.
David came up behind me, "Mate, what are ya gonna call him?"
I pondered for a while, "David, I actually don't know..."


So... you likey?