ALICE Ch 171

Kylie gazes at the ceiling of her hotel room, feet crossed at the ankles as she lies on her bed with one earbud in, listening to the race.

“Looks like an agreement between the Red Bulls. Verstappen is fighting Norris while Perez holds off Sainz, only Sainz has his hands full. One has to wonder what this race might look like if Faye Darcy was a little more aggressive. She makes it look easy when she’s sticking to these fast drivers, but rarely makes a move.”

“Agreed, David. Flores continues to grow her lead over Alice Wilde, if only by a few tenths of a second.”

“Things are heated at the rear of the pack. George Russell and Missy Woodcock have both gained several positions and now it’s Woodcock in the crosshairs as she looks to catch up to her sister. Let’s go to Williams comms.”

“Fuck off, Tory cunt!” Missy Woodcock snaps, and the feed hastily shifts back to the commentators.

“Heated indeed! And that’s it, then! Norris has pulled away from Verstappen and Alice Wilde is under attack!”

FF1

“Oh, come on,” Alice mutters. “It’s the tires.”

“I know, Alice. We have to hold on for another two laps. Long as we don’t lose any more time, this will work. Norris is in DRS range. You’ll need to go wide on the next two turns or he will overtake.”

“Like hell he will.”

“Here he comes.”

“Yeah.” Alice grips the wheel and focuses. “I’ve got him.”

The car shudders. She starts to speak, but there’s no time for words to come out. At these speeds and at such close distances, everything happens in an instant.

FF1

“Oh, dear God!” the commentator exclaims.

Kylie’s eyes pop open and she sits up, snatching for her phone. She gets it in front of her face in time to see a wheel fly off and Alice’s car spins almost a full 360 before going airborne. Kylie watches in horror as it rolls, shedding a cloud of smoke and debris on its way across the track, completing at least five full revolutions before slamming into the wall.

“Red flag!”

Kylie doesn’t hear that; she watches the car fall, mangled beyond recognition, back onto its remaining wheels. Black smoke gushes from the back, along with massive, blinding sprays of sparks. The commentators have gotten quiet.

“Oh, dear. There’s fire there,” one of them says.

The feed stays on Alice’s car as emergency vehicles approach.

Kylie puts her hand over her mouth, eyes locked on the tiny screen. There’s so much smoke that she can’t see anything. A long, thin, bright-pink arm unfolds. Then another. Alice’s long, skeletal form climbs down as the flames grow behind her, reflected on a pink and blue helmet smudged with soot. She makes it about two steps before falling to all fours, and then she’s mobbed by the emergency people.

“Fuck me,” Kylie says, starting to breathe again.