I heard my brothers laugh behind me and then heard the rockets snap, crackle, and pop. Not just an excellent prank, my attack also gained me some more ground, I heard their laughter get quieter as I roared away, knowing being first into the finish line just about 100 yards ahead was now a guarantee.
I made the finish line in less than a minute and slammed on the brakes. The thickness of the sand allowed my braking to spin my four wheeler around and gain a perfect view of the finish line. I saw the familiar greenish headlight of Calvin’s four wheeler approach in the night until he was skidding to a stop right in front of me.
I watched Calvin try to catch his breath. I couldn’t help but laugh, looking at my youngest brother struggle to breathe with rosy cheeks, but I tampered down my amusement when I watched him keel over, and vomit liquidy puke into the sand between us.
“Shit,” I muttered.
Calvin flushed out a few more ounces of puke before looking back up at me with the rose from his cheeks long gone.
I looked away from him and scanned the course where I was surprised Roger had still not shown up yet.
“You see what happened to Rog?” I asked.