Redline

Ethan Carter tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his heart pounding in sync with the growl of the engine. The final race of the championship was about to begin, and he was in the pole position. A victory here would cement his name in racing history, but the man in his rearview mirror, Victor Langston, was just as hungry for the title.

The lights above the track counted down—red, red, red, green.

Ethan slammed the accelerator, tires screaming as he launched forward. The roar of the crowd faded into white noise as he focused on the asphalt ahead. The first few laps were smooth, but Victor was relentless, closing in with each turn.

Then, on lap twelve, Ethan saw it—a gap in Victor’s defense. Coming out of Turn 3, he dived inside, taking the lead once more. But Victor wasn’t done. He clipped Ethan’s rear bumper, sending his car fishtailing at 180 miles per hour.

For a moment, everything slowed. The world blurred as Ethan fought the wheel, his instincts screaming against the chaos. He counter-steered, tires gripping just enough to pull out of the spin. Adrenaline surged through his veins. He was still in the race.

With only two laps to go, he pushed harder, ignoring the warning lights on his dashboard. His engine was overheating, but he didn’t care. The final turn loomed ahead. He blocked Victor’s last attempt to pass, keeping his line tight.

The checkered flag waved.

Ethan crossed the finish line first. The crowd erupted. His team cheered. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He had done it. He was the champion.

But as he pulled into victory lane, he knew one thing for certain—he wasn’t done chasing the redline.