Chapter Seventeen
The feed snapped back to the riders all going into the pits, a long stream of bikes some with their new season livery on, most just plain black with rider numbers, s**t, all I can feel is fear. It washes over me, like a tidal wave, threatening to consume my being, my legs feel weak, almost that they no longer belong to my body as I try to concentrate on just breathing.
Mam is walking behind the couch praying her heart out, Dad is rewinding the footage trying to see if there was anything he can pick up on as to why they would red flag the test. Normally only three things make the red flag.
The first was dangerous track conditions, such as oil, or an inflatable barrier being burst.
The Second, dangerous weather, such as wind or sand storms when you are in hot sand
