Oban

The night seemed to be neverending, even with the first flashes of sunlight slowly filling the room. He couldn't remember how long he'd been sitting here, motionless, his glance struggling through the darkness, his thoughts messed up, his tired eyes fixed upon an old frame. At times he thought he didn't need to have it any more, for every little scratch, every smallest stain and every line of their faces went so deep into his memory that he could see the picture with his eyes closed. To forget was the simpliest way; but to forget was impossible. Painfully vivid images of old days used to haunt him crawling into his mind as soon as a day changed into a twilight. His memory was his tormentor; lame attempts to suppress it by anger, ambition, anything, only left more and more scars on his heavy heart. The coldness of a frame was hurting his fingers as they were slowly caressing the face under the glass. Absorbed into his feelings, he barely noticed a quiet knocking at the door which seemed to repeat itself after a silent pause.
"Er... sir?"
He tossed his head. A thunderclap might have scared him less than this sudden intrusion.
"Sir, could I just come in for a minute?" said the quiet, uncertain voice.
On hearing this he was suddenly overwhelmed by inexplicable embarassement. It took him some moments to withdraw from his inner self, to suppress anguish and pain, and to force himself to answer.
"Have you got nothing better to do, young man?" he said in a voice which had nothing in common with his usual bossy tone.
"I'm very sorry to bother you, sir, but..."
The door was now half-open, Koji peering from behind. He paused in a desperate search for words. Don's glance rested upon him for a while until he averted his face.
"What's your problem, boy?" he asked in a low, husky voice which only seemed to distract Koji from delivering his message.
"Dunno how to say it, sir..." Koji went on, his uncertainty becoming more and more obvious. "Well... sir... it seems that... sir, are you feeling okay?"
Don's face twitched. He was trying to fasten his shirt but his hands were visibly shaking. "Stupid nerves", he thought, angry with himself more than with the poor guy.
"I'll be there in a minute", he said letting Koji know by a sullen tone that he wasn't a welcome guest.
"Got it, sir!" Koji said vanishing in a split second. Upon his departure Don let out a deep sigh as he put his hand on a picture lying aside on a bed. Putting it into a drawer, he felt as if something heavy was pressing on his chest. One more senseless day was about to begin with some bad news and end up with painful memories and fleeting glimpses of the past times when everything was so much different... On getting through with a goddamn shirt, he stood up but his feet were so stiff he could hardly walk. He made a few slow steps towards the door, then opened it and left the room.

"What's with the old man?" Jordan whispered turning away from the monitor.
"Dunno..." Koji replied watching Don Wei slowly descending the stairs.
"He's all pale... have you talked to him?"
"No... but we have to tell him, it's a catastrophe..."
"Not sure he'll be glad to hear it now..."
"Speak", Don said turning to Koji. It was the best he could say to mask his apparent distress.
"Sir, Molly is gone".
"What??"
"She...", Koji went on trying to ignore Don's pallid face. "She... well... her bed wasn't slept in and I suppose she didn't show up since the last evening. I... we... we thought that since her next rival is Cross, she could have been kidnapped... you know, she told us she was followed when she went to the city and..."
He stopped. Livid and speechless, Don made a small step, his hand feeling about for the back of a chair. He sank down, a sudden spasm of pain seizing his arm and neck. If Molly is gone, the race is lost... and if the race is lost, that means the end to his dream, the loss of the only chance to have done with these ten years of madness... Through a mist before his eyes he could vaguely see the faces of the two scared boys whose voices seemed distant and fading. In a few seconds the peak of pain was over; he forced himself to open his mouth and whisper, "I'm all right..."
"Sir, we... we gonna find her, I promise..." muttered Jordan, apparently dismayed. Don nodded; he couldn't speak much and it took him great effort to pretend that what happened was nothing special. He wiped sweat off his forehead. The silence grew unbearable.
"Do we have any time before the race begins?" he asked.
Jordan and Koji exchanged brief glances.
"Ten minutes, sir", said Koji in a low voice.
"Start the engines".
"Er... sorry, sir?"
"Start the engines. Do you hear me?"
"But..."
"I'm a pilot, Koji, in case if you forgot".
Familiar straight-out tone brought the boys round in a split second. They both kept silent but from the look on their faces he knew what they were thinking of. Madness... he went through it thousand times before, desperate, blinded by tears, seeking repose and finding only pain... But his hand never shook. His tears never showed. For hundreds and hundreds his heart was a heart of stone and nobody could see how many cracks there were in the wall behind which he hid his feelings. Now it was gone. He had no strength to lie to himself anymore but he needed strength to pull himself together and seek victory... or revenge... or...
"Sir, Arrow is ready".
"Good".
He rose, fighting the thought to ask someone give him a hand.
"Sir", said Koji suddenly stepping in his way. "Please, leave it, sir. We won't let you risk your life. Cross, he's just a criminal, not a racer! We'll find Molly and prove he is responsible, and the Avatar..."
"Out of my way, young man. I won't ask you twice."
Koji obeyed, too soon to notice just one firm grip on Don's shoulder would be enough to stop him. They watched him get into the cabin and set the controls, slowly, as if every motion cut him like a knife.
"He won't make it", Stan whispered.
"You don't understand. He has to."
"But why?"
"I think he has some reason..."
"For you, Eva", he thought starting the engine. The Earth won't be destroyed. It cannot happen. Not with his family. Not again.
***
Everything had a dream-like quality around him as he reached the starting line. The sight of the Krog's ship made his blood up. He'd give everything to see that enormous black bird scattered on the ground, fire licking its metal hull. The thought of being cheated by the Earth's worst enemy who now tried to rob his team of victory echoed with a sudden fit of anger. He couldn't tell why was it that he'd never had the nerve to put the little girl back to her place. Every now and then he felt there were some inexplicable ties between them getting stronger and stronger with every scuffle, with every insulting phrase he'd heard from an unruly girl. And now, when she was gone, imprisoned by the Krogs, his helplessness was driving him up the wall.
The starting lights flashed before him. He never knew if it were them or hatred which blinded his eyes leading him right at the infernal ship. The clash of two metal giants deafened the canyon in which they were moving, faster than any lightning. Wild screams by Jordan never reached his ears; he was obsessed, blinded, deafened, his hand in a white glove clung to the ship's controls...
Another flash of light sprang up and speeded towards the Arrow.
Had it been Rick, he'd pull the ship back.
Had it been Molly, she'd find a way to avoid the mortal shot.
But it was only him and Krog's missile.
And he lost.
***
"Where's the ship?.." muttered Stan, death-scared, unable to take his eyes off the blank monitors.
"It can't be..." whispered Koji. "They couldn't... they just... couldn't...die..."
***
The walls of the canyon seemed to be miles high and the sky was just a faint spot of deep blue crowning the rocks. He tried to move and nearly screamed with pain. Casting a quick look at himself, he found his legs entrapped in a mess of metal which once was a cabin of Arrow III.
***
"Daddy... please... speak to me..." she whispered holding his hand in a bloodstained glove.

The end of the manuscript...