Anita went to the track that evening. It was the monthly meet and she had a score to settle.<br/><br/>Her bike wasn't the fastest, by any means, but running the track wasn't always a matter of straight speed. There was a lot of skill at handling the bike and a fair bit of luck involved too. She had a stake of ten dollars. All she had left after giving Ape-Man his first payment. She placed a couple of safe bets and managed to win her entry fee. As ever, she had her eyes on the prize money - a thousand bucks cash. So far she'd come second twice, always beaten by a guy from the Burners MCC. She saw him standing with his gang and leered, pointed at him then at her behind then at her chest.<em>Your ass is mine!</em>She grinned as he scowled at her and slid a finger suggestively into his mouth, pointed at her then at his crotch<em>Suck my cock!</em><br/><br/>She pointed at him then put both hands together against the side of her head and leant her head over onto them.<em>In your dreams!</em><br/><br/>The preliminary races had already begun, the illegal even organised by the local Angels chapter and marshalled by the Outlaws. Anita's heat was called and she lined up on the start with four others. The gun went and she wound the throttle open. Not too hard. One guy, less experienced, did that and pulled a wheelie. That lost him traction, increased his air resistance and put him at the back. Nits was in second after a woman from Pinkies with one of the Angels' own newcomers hard on her tail. They raced up the dry river bed, weaving left and right. Up ahead, the track climbed out of the gulley up a couple of narrow ramps. Nits watched as the Pinkie went for the first ramp. She smirked. That ramp was shallower and looked faster, but the river bed took a slight turn between it and the second ramp. Nits cut the corner and, gunning the engine, shot up the steeper ramp, reaching the level dessert plane ahead of the Pinkie. There was a yell from behind her. Glancing in her mirror she saw the Angel, following her up the ramp, try to occupy the same space as the Pinkie. The women refused to give way and the angel crashed over the lip back into the gully.<br/><br/>Nits grinned and rounded the marker that indicated the point where the track left the river bed. Pinkie was hot on her tail. Wheelie guy was still last, and between them was some independent rider on a fancy Jap machine. The independent saw the two women ahead of him go around the rock that marked the turn and tried to be clever. Instead of rounding it he tried to cut the corner. But the track was laid out very carefully. The bike's wheels sank deep into the soft sand and the rider came tumbling off. Nits poured on the power, roaring away from the gully. She passed the second marker and slammed the brakes on, throwing up a spray of dirt as she wheeled the bike around and poured the power back on, even as Pinkie shot past her, also braking hard.<br/><br/>Mr Wheelie was still coming at her head on as she accelerated as hard as she could toward the gulley. The bike had never handle better and, she thought, if she won, she would give Danny-boy a bonus out of the prize money. Wheelie decided to try and chicken her, but she wasn't having any of it, and he swerved aside, losing even more time, as she shot past him doing a hundred ten. The gulley arrived fast and she flew across it with ease, slammed the bakes on and skidded to a stop, much to the surprise of Pinkie who had jumped a second after her and was apparently trying to shave the corner and regain the lead. As Nit's cracked the throttle again, moving swiftly forward, Pinkie suddenly saw Nits' bike crossing her track. The other woman was unable to swerve, unable to stop, panicked and dropped the bike. Nits didn't even notice as she sped away, the Pinkies' bike missing her back tyre by two inches.<br/><br/>The flat track got narrower and narrower here as a second gulley closed at an acute angle, joining with the first a little way ahead. The cautious could take a ramp down into the second, narrower and windier gulley. The brave (or foolish) road to the "nose" and jumped off it. Nits had never been cautious in her life. She took the leap, landed her bike safely on the small area that was clear of debris, and raced to the finish.<br/><br/>Wining her heat was the start of a good evening. She won her quarter and her semi, too. And in the final, there was the ass-hole she had never yet beaten.<em>First time for everything</em>, she thought as she lined up with him at the start. She was in second place.... and stayed there. Right on his ass, all the way. Up the second ramp, round the turn. She considered shorting the second marker but... that marker was placed at the minimum distance ANY bike could accelerate to a safe jumping speed on, and she knew her bike needed an extra two yards. The bastard braked right in front of her, before the marker, forcing her to swerve and loose half a second more. She cursed her stupidity of being right on his tail, knowing that would happen. Suddenly she was in third. She hammered towards the gully, actually regaining second place in mid air, touching down just feet from the Burners' champion, and risking a blown tyre and a broken leg as she hauled her machine through a sixty degree turn in about three feet, with the throttle still wide. It paid off and as they raced towards the nose, the two bikes were wheel to wheel.<br/><br/>But that was a problem. The nose got narrower and narrower, until, just before the jump, it was only wide enough for one bike.<br/><br/>Nits refused to give, even as she saw the jump coming up. The edge of the bluff crumbled beneath her tyres, and beneath his as the track narrowed. Their shoulders touched and suddenly he was gone, over the edge and into the gulley, where the landing was littered with tree trunks and boulders. Nits made the jump and roared on to victory.<br/><br/>She claimed her prize money from the head of The Hells Angels Chapter, $1,000  plus her entry fee refunded. She rejoined her gang and then, feeling magnanimous, walked over to where the Burners were gathered around their defeated leader who was nursing a broken rib and a sprained ankle.<br/><br/>"Good race." She smiled at him. "Sorry about the bike".<br/><br/>He looked up, surprised, and then shrugged. "It's fixable. You rode well. I'll get you back next time."<br/><br/>Nits shrugged. "We'll see..." She swaggered away, drawing wolf whistles as her backside swayed inside her skin-tight leathers.<br/><br/>To celebrate, she headed for Chipmunks with her gang in tow, wanting to leer at some scantily clad men and make them feel small, she said.<br/><br/>She swaggered into the place, drawing ominous looks from the bouncers and led the gang to a number of tables that, while not vacant when she entered, swiftly were as she approached. And there, standing by the bar and chatting with some of the muscle-men, was Chris. She smiled and raised an eyebrow, as if to say "fancy seeing you here?" She was sweaty and covered in dust, but she didn't care. For some reason her heart leapt as she saw him.