/lit/ - Literature

>>16352548
I had a good idea for this one and kind of ran away with it. Never got to the super weapon part, but you can guess that's coming up next.

1/2

“It’s raining pretty hard,” said Felix. “Why don’t you go home, kid? Catch us tomorrow.” The two hobos standing next to him smirked at Kevin. The third one, an ancient man with a snowy white beard, held his chin up to the rain and stared down the steep, winding road like a general surveying his battlefield.

Kevin clenched his skateboard. “Let’s see the cash,” he said.

The two hobos frowned and shifted their shopping carts into position. Felix smiled and flashed a rubber band stretched with Andrew Jacksons. “You don’t got a helmet,” he commented.

Kevin rubbed his bruised elbow. “Yeah, some asshole stole it.” He shrugged. “Whatever. Let’s do this.”

Felix raised his eyebrows. “It’s your life, kid. Don’t tell anyone I made you do this.”

Kevin walked past him and took his position in line with the other hobos at the top of the street. The hard wind blew the rain directly into their faces. But Kevin wasn’t scared. He had a samurai soul. He was homeless because it was the best place to purge the world of the wicked. He was a ghost, but not a nobody. Five newspaper clippings in his abandoned shipping container fortress were testament to that.

Two quick movements of his hands secured his long hair behind his head in a loose ponytail. Swimming goggles came out of the wide side pocket of his green army jacket and over his head. He pulled them tight with the plastic band.

Samurai or not, a man had to eat. Work, of course, was completely out of the question. Besides, what kind of sucker would do that when they could race for a couple hundred? Five, ten minutes of thrilling breakneck speed for a fat payday. That’s what Kevin liked. Steeled his spirit and filled his stomach. Wham, bam, two in one combo. Sometimes it was hard to find a race on account of his age. World was full of pussies these days.

He glanced over at his competition. The two goons were typical riff-raff using Safeway carts. Kevin shook his head. A few modifications and they could be decent carts, but the men standing next to them wouldn’t know how to do that. Probably didn’t know they pulled a hard left, either.

The ancient one was something else. Kevin hadn’t seen him before, and the man didn’t look scared. That meant one of two things: he was really fucking good or he had a death wish. Either one made him a real contender. But his cart was shit, so he was probably dead anyways.

Kevin stepped onto the board and settled his feet into the exact right position. He was on the lip of the hill. One bad move and he would go tumbling down before the race started. Disqualified, wiped out. He squatted low and used hockey skate laces to wrap around and bind his feet to the board.

Felix hopped from one foot to the other in excitement. “Get ready! Get set! GO!”

>>16353346
2/2

Felix jumped over the edge of the slick slope, tucking his legs up to his chest. He landed hard but kept his balance, added momentum from the jump boosting him down the hill like a hound out of hell. He was in the front of the pack, flying, trees flashing past next to the street, sheets of rain soaking through his clothes. He nailed the first bend in the road, dipping real low and turning his body, trusting his tight core to keep him balanced. The street straightened and he rose back to a low crouch, arms wide.

A car coming up the hill honked at Kevin and hit the brake. Then it was gone, only a flash at the edge of his vision. A few seconds later there came the sound of metal on metal, a bad crash. One of the Safeways.

Kevin was flying, laughing at the rain. He stood up and—what the hell? There was a cart right next to him, edging into first place. Through the rain he saw the ancient one sitting crosslegged deep in his cart, eyes closed, face serene. But this wasn’t a suicide run. He didn’t need goggles. He was a master. He felt the road beneath him and leaned his body when he needed to turn. Full control. Fearless.

Kevin grit his teeth and squatted low on his board. Who was that guy? He was a full car’s length ahead of Kevin. Cruising through the storm.

Kevin willed his board to go faster. He stretched his body to give it more momentum. None of it worked. The gap widened. Only one option remained.

Kevin reached down and slowly untied the laces binding his feet to the board. A turn was coming up. He worked fast, fingers scrambling like mad on the tight little knots. The lace came off and instantly wrapped around one of his board’s back wheels. It jammed up and Kevin was flipped over the top. He hit the street hard, rolled, and ended up in a ditch with one foot still secured to his board.

A heavy stream of water ran through the ditch and into the storm drain. It tugged Kevin over the slick grass. Kevin groaned, half conscious. He grasped for the earth but there was nothing to hold on to. A great rush of water submerged his entire body and carried him into the wide metal tube leading into the earth…

Writing prompt and word to use in the story. Someone go for it!
1. An archaeologist makes a startling discovery
2. Bourbon

>bump