The Low Rumble of Distant Thunder

Description

“And here they go! They’re on their way down the stretch. The break was good; every animal got a clean shot out of the gate. And as they come down here to the eighth pole, it is Mesozoic Nights and Caligula …” I peered at the announcer’s booth, wondering once again what they were using for power, and so much of it—the stadium lights alone would have overwhelmed most generators. But then Maria nudged me and I focused on the action—seeing, to my horror, that Bromtide had already fallen behind; Bromtide, whom we had unanimously voted to support. “Caligula is trying to force his way to the front and doing a good job of it as they pass the stands. Here on the outside comes Lovely Bones, in a good position. And as they go by me it is Caligula on the lead by one length. Caligula has the lead and then comes Mesozoic Nights in second place right along beside him. Going into the first turn is Caligula by a length. Mesozoic Nights is second and on the outside of him is Lovely Bones. Far back in the crowd, on the inside, in about fourth place, is Bromtide. They’re going into the stretch; they’ve gone about half a mile …” “Jesus,” I said, even as something like thunder rumbled and a flash of light illuminated the stadium. “What’s wrong with him, you think?” “Might be the T. rex piss,” said Luther, leaning in, and chuckled. “Had to spray him down with it—otherwise the allos would be all over him. Guess we forgot to tell you that.” I glared at him before shifting my gaze to Maria and Caleb and finally to De Santo, at the very end, who looked like a kid on Christmas. “Oh, Caligula!” he cried, and clasped his hands above his head. “Beautiful! Beautiful!”