The Pass ![12469870213_230974f553_k.jpg](https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmaY3VsofbD8APUXo4m77UpNxzPTLLdZLE3VR5EmHYhnPe/12469870213_230974f553_k.jpg) [Image](https://www.flickr.com/photos/andreasoverland/12469870213) The headlights devoured the black night ahead of her speeding vehicle ravenously eating the blackness as fast as it appeared, and closing again behind her as if the tail lights were constantly being covered in ink. Her breathing was easy and she felt no panic as the speedometer topped 320kph. Her touch on the steering wheel was soft and it responded to her like a finely tuned surgical instrument. Her control of the vehicle was remarkable. There was no swaying back and forth, no wasted motion or energy. Just pure, efficient motion. Like a tracer bullet blasting through the night. There and gone in the space of a heartbeat. Helen downshifted swiftly through the gears to keep from lighting the brakes on fire as she approached the tunnel along the side of the mountain and dropped her speed to 180kph as she continued winding her way down the treacherous mountain road. There was another straightaway coming up on the far side of the mountain, then a section of road that even a goat would be cautious on. She began a quick assessment while her body deftly continued to hurtle her through the night. The Agera RS’ 1160hp Swedish engine seemed barely awake with incredible amounts of power in reserve. She glanced at her hands on the wheel and could see blood trickling off her knuckles. She didn’t feel any pain, even though the skin on her hands seemed a bit torn up. As she accelerated out of a turn she brought the car back up to over 250kph on a two kilometer straightaway which she knew the car would rip through in just a few seconds. It was enough time for her to glance down at her body. Naked from the waist up she approved of her medium sized, firm breasts and sculpted abs. What was she? A race car driver or a fitness model? She then glanced farther down and saw her black leather knee high boots, tights and skirt which seemed no worse for wear. She could tell that her mind was beginning to search for answers. How did she even know she was driving a Koenigsegg, know its specifications inside out and drive it like it was an extension of her own body? Speaking of body, Helen wondered why she wasn’t shaking from the adrenaline dump coursing through her veins. How was she controlling that? Whose blood was on her hands? Why was she topless and who was the unconscious man hogtied and gagged in the backseat? Answers eluded her just as she knew she was eluding those who were after her. Why? That internal discussion would have to wait, as the most treacherous parts of her race down the mountain were coming up fast. She could feel her touch on the wheel lighten up. A very counterintuitive thing, seeing as most people would be white knuckling it at this point and throwing the car back and forth through the turns. Incredibly, the car rose to the occasion and responded to her every request no matter how outrageous. The bond between woman and car was unbreakable as together they roared through the treacherous pass. The only sounds other than her quiet breathing was the engine and the soft weeping of the tires as they quietly cried against the pavement living at the very limit of their ability and gripping the road as if to save themselves from being thrown off the mountain like a shooting star and ending in a fireball at the bottom of the rocky ravine. Helen settled lower in the luxurious top grain leather seat and let the g forces smoothly sway her body with the car. Not fighting, not resisting but accepting the inescapable physics that most people would try to confront. She didn’t know much at this point. But she knew she was capable and without fear. That had to count for something.