DiRT
… splatters over the hood of my Mitsubishi Lancer Evo IX as it nosedives into the dip in the road ahead. The sound twisting of metal screeches through my helmet and there is a loud crunching as the car settles back on four wheels. A bright red warning icon lets me know that my transmission is pretty much shot. Last in line, the pressure is on me to beat everyone else’s times for this rally event. Pedal to the metal, I strain to see over the hood, which has now been bent upward, obscuring my view of the road ahead.
A voice crackles over my helmet speakers - my “co-driver” is giving me instructions for the next set of obstacles: “160, crest, then left 3 tightens to 1, -” the rest is covered up by the sudden, loud pinging of rocks on the underside and then a burp of static. I see the little crest ahead and slow down for the sharp left turn afterward. As I come over the crest, I hit the handbrake, sending the Evo into an over-steered slide. I then realize, too late, what I missed in the instructions beforehand. A hairpin right turn is just a few meters away and the Evo is oriented in the completely wrong direction.
A explosion of windshield glass showers the inside of the car as it slams into the guardrail; the cheap, feeble, government-paid strip of metal easily rips apart. My inner ear senses that the car is beginning to flip on its side. Glancing to the right, a feeling of dread overcomes me when I realize there’s nothing else to stop the roll. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. The doors fly off, I catch a glimpse of a large gap ripped in the guardrail, and then a wave of nausea hits as the ruined Evo comes to a grinding halt at the bottom of a steep creek bed.
Is it over?
=+=+=+=
A graphic menu appears in the middle of the air. There is an option, “restart”, highlighted, and the message in bright red: “Terminal Damage”, to the right of it. Below, it shows the damage ratings of the different components of my totaled racer. A few of them are blood red: 0%.
“Restart” flashes a few times; my Evo appears on screen, good as new. The crowd standing on either side of the gate gives me a sub-par cheer and as the starting signal turns lime green, gravel spitting out from under the wheels, a tiny smile of mine slowly finds a way to show itself.