<div class="floatright">(http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b52/jotunusmc/36827_421832359861_518524861_4822950_3819136_n.jpg)</div><br/><hr/><hr/><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Taras Ivan Markovski<strong>  -  Name           </strong><br/>The Muscle<strong>  -  Title              </strong><br/> Hairpin turn at the bay inlet<strong>  -  Location     </strong><br/> Everyone<strong>  -  Tagged         </strong></span></span></div><hr/><hr/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">     As everything shockingly unfolded before his eyes, Taras could only watch with mixed feelings; two parts fear, one part anger, one part disbelief. Cori's car acted as though it had just thrown a rod. But in the middle of a corner? Usually you tossed a piston when you were gunning a straight, not breaking and feathering into a corner. As he maintained control of his own vehicle, he quickly zipped by the skidding Caddy. Cori slid dangerously wide, and Taras had to look up into his rear view to see if she could hold on. Unfortunately she had been riding into the corner to hot, and the changed direction sent her bright headlights out of view - she'd gone over the edge to land only God knows how.<br/><br/>     Shock and fear almost overtook Taras... almost. That was until he glanced back up the road to make sure he wasn't going to test a guardrail himself. What he saw were the two tailights of the Subaru and immediately everything clicked. Taras shouted something Ukranian at the culprit a couple car lengths in front of him. It sounded loud and violent because it was; it translated roughly to: 'When I catch you, it will be the last' but with a several swear words thrown in between. <br/><br/>     In the back of his mind Taras pleaded that Cori would be okay and that Adrian had seen her go over the edge and would call someone or go help her himself. Taras couldn't... he had his own mission. He had all eight pistons roaring with his foot smashing the floor... cause someone had just written, signed, and sealed their own deathwish - and he was about to stake his claim. It didn't take him long at all to close the gap with the equally desperate Subaru driver. It was right at the 16 on-ramp that Taras caught up and blasted past his rear bumper into a side-by-side position. <br/><br/>     The driver looked over at Taras, who had a look of rage on his face - but Taras wasn't looking at him. Taras was still looking ahead. The driver, nearly wetting his pants and with beads of sweat appearing all over his forehead, looked up back at the road anxiously - just in time to see the barrier of water barrels that protected the end of concrete barriers separating the onramp from the regular road. <br/><br/>    Taras moved over, as if to let the man make a last second decision to follow him over and get on the freeway - but a split-second after, the Ukranian yanked his wheel hard back into the Subaru. The driver never had a chance to cut back away fully to the other side. The Subaru hit the barrels head on, fast enough to crush through them all the way to the concrete corner hidden beneath. The foreign frame shuddered as the concrete jammed past the crush-zone knocking the man's engine into his passenger seat. The rear end of the car carried the last bit of momentum that jerked the car to the side and spun it, leaving it facing almost backwards on the main road.<br/><br/>    Taras' 69 bird managed to avoid the majority of the barrels, but the ferocity in which he'd swerved into the Subaru broke his rear end loose and it slid into the long concrete barrier bordering the on ramp when he'd tried to recover. tearing loose paint and paneling until Taras was able to bring it to a screeching halt some hundred yards or more up the ramp. He slammed his stick into reverse and smashed the pedal, taking him back to where the Subaru had been impaled. He slammed on his brakes again when he got back down the ramp and threw his stick in neutral. He opened his door and jumped out, leaving his car to roll slowly backwards until it found something to bump into and stop. <br/><br/>    A look of menacing rage was sprayed across his face as he stalked over to the annihilated Impreza and the unconscious driver inside. Taras yanked at the door handle, but it just ripped off - the door was jammed shut from the frame damage. The driver's side glass however, had shattered so the big man easily reached in to grab the perpetrator's neck. Fortunately for that driver, Taras didn't have room to rear back and throw clean strong hay-makers at his expressionless face. He got in the first good strong punch, and the guy's head just bounced backwards into the headrest and then hung loosely against his chest. He was still alive... just barely... and Taras punched his hanging head again. The unconscious driver collapsed heavily against his torn car interior and the twisted metal in his passenger seat. <br/><br/>     <strong>"I'd fucking kill you, but that's too easy!"</strong> Taras spat, wanting badly to end this man... though he knew he couldn't fully do it. <strong>"You're going to remember this mistake, every fucking day of your crippled life."</strong> Taras stepped back and stood up, his fists clenched like vices, his muscles tensed like iron. The guy couldn't even hear a word he said. Taras just stood their staring at him for a moment... as the other racers blazed passed, having to slow and swerve carefully through the mess of smashed barrels, water, and Subaru debri - not to mention Taras' abandoned car in the middle of the road.<br/><br/>     He just stood there and stared, until the sound of sirens woke him from his trance. He let the tension in his hands and muscles go, and then shook his head. He reached down to scoop up the torn door-handle that had his prints on it and then he sprinted over to his Pontiac and jumped inside. He wasn't sure if those sirens were headed here, or to where Cori had gone off the road, but despite the potential danger, he had to go check.<br/><br/>     Flooring the gas pedal, his tires screamed and he spun himself around to head back down the race course the way they'd just come from. His anger began to be replaced again by fear and worry the closer he got to the Caddy's crash site. He'd probably been gone for about ten minutes or so, but no emergency vehicles had arrived yet. He quickly stopped and exited his car near the torn barrier, and prayed he's see Cori alive an unscathed as he looked down over the hillside into the trees below.</div>