Kool Kidz

Lloyd squinted through the visor of his crash-hat, an idea beginning to form in his mind. A quarter of a mile ahead lay a filling station and car showroom, and parked outside taking up half the width of the road was a king-size automobile transporter. It had just unloaded its double-decker cargo of shiny new vehicles, and the upper section had been left in its tilted position. `l'm gonna bomb the Merc,' Lloyd declared. `lt's the only certain way of stopping him.' `But how…?' Sean began. `The transporter. Up the ramp, over the top, and suddenly Van Reyk's roof needs a paint job.' `You plan to land on -' `Sure. Just hold on to your stomach and close your eyes.' Sean shuddered. `And I thought you'd lost your nerve.' `Thanks to you I got it back.' `I must've been crazy…' Sean said, his mouth dry. Lloyd waited, checking his speed, relying totally on split-second judgment to tell him what line to take and the exact moment to hit the rig. `How fast did you say this bike could go?' Sean breathed. `110 with one up… With two up, I dunno. It's never been tried.' Fourth gear… fifth… The speedo needle rose steadily. Lloyd felt smooth, level ground beneath his wheels. The Mercedes strayed to the centre of the road, preparing to pass the transporter. Getz was watching the bike in the rear-view mirror when suddenly he blinked. One moment it was there, and the next it was gone. He smiled, reckoning that Van Reyk had stopped the kids with a bullet. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Lloyd, teeth clenched, concentration steady, had opened the full gutsy power of the Kawasaki towards the transporter's ramp. A jolt shuddered through the forks to his fingers as the bike's front wheel hit it, before lifting and heading for the sky. Up an slope of some forty degrees before levelling slightly, then into the offside wheel-runner, climbing again as the engine screamed and the tyres fought for grip. Below, Sean could see the white blur of the Mercedes as it streaked past the rig. Getz gave the steering a touch to bring the car back into line, and Sean drew in as deep a breath as his lungs would hold. The green motorbike left the transporter like an arrowhead. It snarled and spluttered like a dangerous living creature, voicing its anger at the high, mid-air leap. It climbed, hesitated, then slowly began to drop, a mixture of flying bodies and flashing spokes. `Lean back,' Lloyd instructed, feeling the front wheel dip too sharply. It took all the strength of his hands, forearms, back and shoulders before he managed to position the bike at exactly the right angle for a touchdown. The full weight of the Kawasaki smacked against the top of the Mercedes with the force of a battering-ram. The suspension groaned under the impact, the windshield starred into fragments, and the car's roof crunched like an eggshell as it creased into a gigantic V shape. As Getz tried frantically to control the steering, so Lloyd kicked on the brake, briefly anchoring the bike before letting the forward motion of the Mercedes carry it off the roof and over the car's rear bumper. The bike's back wheel struck the kerb and it lurched to a halt. `Oh, lordy, lordy!' Sean, utterly breathless, his body chilled with sweat, slid onto the ground. Lloyd lifted his visor, watching as the Mercedes swerved out of control. It wandered all over the road and was finally brought to rest a hundred metres later by ramming the back end of a gravel truck. Lloyd gave a yell of delight as he helped Sean to his feet. They both looked at each other and exchanged a high-five. The Merc's collision had sprung the truck's tip-up mechanism and Max Getz and Van Reyk were getting covered by an ocean of gravel as it poured through the Mercedes' windshield, burying the car's front end and trapping the two men inside. `I guess they're weighed down with problems,' Lloyd chuckled. `Up to their necks in trouble,' Sean added.