Competing - Prologue 2

Watts-Brown smiled confidently as he ran downhill.  It felt good – he was running easily, his rhythm smooth and efficient in time with the magnificent music drumming into his ears, the rhythm gently bouncing his genitals.  His mind drifted in the warm early summer sun.

Ann Gillies: he remembered the first time he met her. He had known, immediately, that he would eventually succeed.  It had taken time and effort, but the chase had been worth it.  She performed well – very well.  The scratches she left on him took a long time to heal.   Afterwards he'd stood in front of the mirror examining his battle scars – proud of his victory.

Distracted from his run, he slipped on a stone cursing his lack of concentration.  Not much further.  Is Williams running today?  That scruffy sod – all talk and balls.  His team will be a pushover.  None of them knew their arse from their elbow.  Their cyclist hadn’t ridden further than around the block with his kid’s bike – he’d even had to borrow a friend’s racer!

And Kazue – well, I’ll bet she’s sorry she opened her Japanese mouth.  She only promised to swim because my team’s entered.  I can’t figure that bitch out.  I’ve hardly said two words to her but I know she dislikes me. 

Most women find him attractive. His clean-cut looks more than compensate for his average height.  Stupid bitch – how she ever got the job as a Tech-o is beyond me!

Only eight more weeks of training left before the Blackwood Marathon.  Maybe their canoe should spring a leak just in case?  It’s not that they could beat us; the Reserves were like finely tuned instruments.  He plays them like a Military maestro.

In the distance someone is running towards him – a familiar figure. 

Good.  It’s Williams.  I’ve still got plenty in reserve (Ha-Ha – a little play on words there folks) I can take him.  Just like I take every attractive woman from right under his nose – it’s simply a question of who’s better at playing games.

*       *       *       *       *

Sweat ran in rivulets down into Colin’s eyes.  He shook out a crumpled gray hanker-chief and swiped his face with effort.  A flock of twenty-eights flashed past green and orange, swooping and chattering as they settled in a nearby Marri, one of Colin’s favorite trees.  Interesting nuts – someone had written books about them; flowers from white to dusty pink which smelt like honey.  No wonder the birds loved to nest in their hollows.  Colin’s mind wandered to his University thesis on birds inhabiting Bibra Lake then to the birds he’s chatted up on campus.  An all-you-can-eat, fresh smorgasbord every semester!   And his Kath, patiently typing assignments for him! Over the crest and down the last stretch, Williams spies a pristine figure running gracefully down the opposite hill, towards the Research Centre gates.  He looks as cool as a cucumber.  Sometime I’d like to give him a quick, clean slicing…  Mark that immaculate white… prissy-missy.  Really gets up my nose!

Every morning it’s the same – who’s the most prepared?  Well, this little fairy’s in for a rude shock.  He doesn’t know that Kazue’s an ex-champion swimmer.  Or that John rode for Uni.  OK. Matt hasn’t paddled a canoe, but he’s fit and a natural athlete.  She’ll be right!  Colin just hoped like hell the bloody horse behaves itself for Judy and passes the vet test at the end - ‘cos that could cost us.

Put a spurt on Mate! As he pushes himself harder, thumping and grunting noisily, blowing the sweat out the way while he keeps a wary eye on his opponent. 

Watch my dust, Wanker!

Brown makes running look easy while Williams finds the act uncomfortable and awkward, pounding the ground loudly as each sneaker hammers into the dirt.  Did designer runners make the difference?  No sound came from his rival while Colin was huffing loudly with the effort of competition. 

A large Western Grey kangaroo flashed in front of Brown, bounding across the road.  Not uncommon this time of day.  But Brown missed a step and nearly tripped, recovered just as a second ‘roo ran alongside before it too disappeared into the bush across the road. 

Colin laughed aloud even as he wondered if there was a golf course around here. 

Brown appeared to register Colin and almost imperceptibly increased his speed.

Colin’s internal alarm injected more adrenalin.  The bastard’s beating me! Come on, push harder, go – go –go.  There’s the gate, almost reached it.  He’s gonna get there before me – Shit!

They are so close his strong male odor mixes with Brown’s expensive cologne.  The extra effort since he'd spied Brown had tired him.  Each time his foot clumped into the ground it sent shock waves to the top of his head and his nose was running.  He felt like he was about to burst a foofie valve.  Well, he’s not taking any chances.  Colin Williams flung his arm out in front of his opponent, grabbed the gate and swung awkwardly around it, almost knocking Watts-Brown over.  No way was the little weasel getting in that door before him!