Races are serious business. In case you haven't noticed, bad things usually accompany the races...things like fights, pain, agony, all the nasty stuff. But don't be fooled...racing can also be fun. Like an offroad race that turned out to be a little different then we thought...

James was sick. Normally, I would've jumped for joy, but he was my passenger in all of my races, and since it's a rule that you must have a passenger, I was about to be disqualified. Luckily, Dakota came to my rescue.

I was in a huge Ford, a 2002 250 4X4. I won't get into a lot of description about it because I really didn't like it...this was a sponser race. Dakota climbed in the truck next to me before we left the garage and immediately started choking. I looked over at him oddly. "Are you okay?" I asked. He shook his head and continued coughing. I just kind of watched him as he kept coughing and flailing around. Then, as suddenly as he had started, he stopped and his eyes closed, his body limp in the seat. I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned over. "Dakota?" I asked. It was a full 10 seconds before suddenly his eyes popped open and he started laughing hysterically. "You should've seen the look on your face!" he said, trying hard to stop laughing. I flicked him in the middle of his forehead and leaned back into my seat to buckle my seatbelt. "That was really funny Dakota. Remind me to laugh about that later." I said bitterly. He wiped the tears from his eyes and finally started to calm down, buckling his seatbelt as I pulled out of the parking lot of the garage. "So, where's the race?" he asked after we were half way to the race site. I sped up a little to pass a tanker truck next to me. "The Field...it's just a quick steeple chase kind of thing." I said. We rode in silence until we reached registration, where I rolled down my window. "Maytrix and Dakota, 2002 F-250, no NOS." I said plainly. The lady reached up and wrote "33" on my rear window with washable marker and motioned me to move to the starting line. I rolled up my window and started revving my engine to warm it up, then shifted into 1st. I glanced over at Dakota, who was staring intently at the truck on his side. "That guy just flipped me off." he said. I looked over at the biker-looking guy that was in the truck next to us, and he made a kissing motion at me. Dakota looked over at me, a sardonic grin on his face. "Oh look, Mr. Biker Man likes you." he said kiddingly. I narrowed my eyes and revved the motor, then glanced over at the man again. He shook his head and revved his engine back, then exploded over the starting line. "What the...the race hasn't started!" Dakota said. I slammed my foot on the clutch, then pushed the stick into first and slammed on the gas. "JESUS!" Dakota yelled as the truck jumped forward, smoke pouring from the tires. I double shifted and clutched my way into 5th, then pulled up alongside the Biker Man. He looked over and flipped me off and I shook my head, then pulled infront of him. Dakota suddenly started to inch towards me. "Maytrix, I think he's going to ram us..." he said. I looked over just as the biker guy jerked his wheel sideways and directly into me. "Hold on!" I yelled over the crunching of the brush kit covering the side and the engine, then I pulled infront of the biker guy and directly infront of him. Dakota looked over at me. "Don't you dare!" he yelled. I smiled and slammed on the brake and the clutch, downshifting quickly. All I heard was crunching metal and skidding tires as the man landed in the bed of my truck and came to a complete stop. The guy got out and came to my window, looking angry. I opened my door and jumped out. "You started a little early." I pointed out. The man drew back his fist as if to punch me, but Dakota stepped in front of me. "Don't." he said through clenched teeth. The man glared past me. "You ruined my truck." he said. I shrugged. "Looks like mine survived." I said. The grill of his truck was sitting almost peacefully in the bed of mine. The man pushed Dakota out of the way and grabbed my arm. "You ruined my truck, little girl." he said. I rolled my eyes. "Are you going to cry now?" I asked sarcastically. Suddenly, a white F-250 came barreling down the dirt path, then slid to a stop next to us. James hopped out, looking unusually pale. "Sara, Dakota..." he stopped himself and looked at the biker man. "Who are you?" he asked. His eyes trailed down to my arm and narrowed angrily. "You better have a really good reason for having your hand on my girl." he ground out. The man dropped my arm and stepped back. "We were just discussing our race." he said. James looked back at me. "They need you two at R.I.O.N immediately...there's been some kind of bomb threat." he said. I looked pointedly at the biker man's Dodge sitting in the back of my Ford. James sighed. "Want a ride?" he asked. Dakota grinned and ran towards the truck. "I GOT SHOTGUN!" he said. Then he opened the door a little too fast and slammed himself hard in the forehead. James and I stared at him for a second, then started laughing hysterically as he stood up. "Yeah, laugh it up you guys...ow..." he mumbled. James walked to the driver's side and I walked over to Dakota. "Are you okay?" I asked. He nodded, then got in the truck, smacking his head off the rear-view mirror as he climbed in. The mirror fell from it's mounting and directly into his lap, and James reached over and smacked him. "Thanks alot Dakota." he said angrily. I smiled and climbed in. It just never ends.