DRIVER 88 (The Death Race Saga).

1. The Prison Yard in Chaos

The prison alarm blared, and the once-quiet yard erupted into a frenzy of activity. The inmates scrambled, their instincts for survival kicking in. Guards rushed to take control, but the chaos only grew, as every man inside the prison knew something big was about to unfold.

Jaxon, still recovering from his brutal encounter with Viper, was now forced to navigate the storm of confusion. His chest heaved as he wiped the blood from his split lip, his eyes scanning the yard for any sign of what was happening. He had been in fights before, but nothing like this—this felt different.

Viper, however, showed no sign of panic. Instead, he stood motionless, his arms crossed as if waiting for something. Jaxon could see the calculation in his eyes, the anticipation of a greater event. Something bigger was on the horizon.

Then the loudspeaker crackled to life, the voice of the warden cutting through the madness.

"Attention all inmates," the voice boomed. "The Death Race has entered its final phase. Tonight, we are introducing the Wild Card Event. You will all participate, but only one will survive."

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2. The Wild Card Event

Jaxon felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The rules of the Death Race had always been twisted, but this… this was something else. A final phase? Wild Card? It didn't take long for the other prisoners to understand what that meant—this was no longer about skill or survival. This was about manipulation, betrayal, and bloodshed.

The Wild Card Event was simple but deadly. Each week, inmates competed in races to gain more control within the prison, but the final event would throw every rule out the window. It wasn't about the fastest car or the most brutal fighter. It was about the worst betrayal—setting your allies against each other and claiming the title through deceit, violence, and terror.

Viper, still standing tall in the yard, glanced at Jaxon. "You've made an impression here. But you've never faced anything like what's coming. Trust me, you won't survive the Wild Card without more than just your fists."

Jaxon's heart raced. He had survived up to this point by trusting no one and fighting for himself. But now, it seemed he would have to face something darker: a game of alliances, betrayal, and death.

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3. Jaxon's Gamble

Jaxon's mind raced. He had no choice but to enter the Wild Card Event, but he needed to think strategically. The first thing he knew was that Viper would be an obstacle, and a dangerous one at that. He had seen the kind of man Viper was—a cold, calculating enforcer with little regard for anything but his mission.

But Jaxon wasn't just going to play Viper's game. He was going to take control of the narrative.

He knew that in order to survive, he would have to form temporary alliances. But even as he formed them, he knew betrayal would be inevitable. The Death Race had made that clear. Every prisoner here had blood on their hands, and in this new phase of the game, alliances would only last as long as they were useful.

One prisoner in particular caught Jaxon's eye—Ryder, a hulking figure with tattoos that covered his arms like a map of war. Ryder had been one of the top racers in the previous rounds, known for his unyielding strength and brutal combat style. However, Ryder's reputation also painted him as someone who could be easily manipulated.

Jaxon approached him cautiously, knowing that any wrong move could lead to his death. "Ryder," Jaxon said, his voice low. "We're both about to face a nightmare. Viper doesn't play by the rules. If we're going to make it through this, we need to watch each other's backs."

Ryder looked at him, his cold blue eyes scanning him for any sign of weakness. "You think I need you to survive?" he grunted, cracking his knuckles. "I don't need anyone."

But there was something in his eyes—a flicker of hesitation. Jaxon knew he had to press. "Maybe not. But you need to realize that this isn't a race anymore. It's a war. If we don't work together, we'll both end up as pawns in Viper's game."

Ryder snorted, clearly unimpressed, but Jaxon could see the wheels turning in his head. Eventually, after a long pause, Ryder gave a curt nod. "Fine. For now."

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4. The Betrayal Begins

As the days passed, the tension in the prison grew. The inmates could feel the clock ticking down to the Wild Card Event. The alliances Jaxon had carefully formed with a few other prisoners—each of them brutal, merciless men who had nothing left to lose—began to take shape. But he was always cautious, always watching his back. Everyone had their own agenda, and betrayal wasn't just a possibility—it was expected.

Ryder, despite their uneasy alliance, became increasingly unpredictable. He was a man who didn't value life, and Jaxon soon realized that his alliance with him could either become a powerful tool—or a deadly trap.

The Wild Card Event was set to take place under the cover of darkness, and Jaxon knew it was going to be a bloodbath. But there was more at stake than just survival now—his past, his memories of the betrayal that had gotten him thrown into this hellhole, his burning desire for revenge on the men who'd set him up, all of it was pushing him to the edge. And if he played his cards right, the chaos would give him the perfect opportunity to exact his revenge.

But he also knew that the biggest danger didn't come from the other prisoners—it came from the system itself. Viper wasn't just an enforcer; he was a weapon, one with a plan far more intricate than Jaxon could even comprehend.

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5. The Start of the Final Phase

The night arrived. The yard was dark, only the faint flicker of lights illuminating the cold, empty arena. Inmates gathered in the center, some eager, others terrified. The air was thick with anticipation as the Warden stepped onto a raised platform and spoke into a microphone.

"Tonight," he announced, his voice echoing across the yard, "the rules change. There will be no finish lines, no safety nets. It's you, your wits, your strength, and your enemies. The Wild Card Event begins now. Only one will walk away alive."

At the Warden's command, the gates to the yard opened, and a small convoy of heavily modified vehicles entered the arena. The once-pristine race cars from earlier rounds were now nothing more than battle-worn machines, armored to withstand gunfire and explosives.

Jaxon stood at the edge of the yard, his eyes scanning the cars, his mind calculating. He knew the odds were stacked against him, but the adrenaline surged through his veins. He wasn't just going to survive this event—he was going to win it.

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6. The First Blood

Jaxon climbed into the car he had claimed, a souped-up, heavily armored muscle car with enough firepower to take on a small army. He gripped the steering wheel, feeling the tension tighten in his chest. This wasn't just a race anymore—it was a war zone.

The other prisoners had similarly armed vehicles, and as the starting signal went off, the prison yard erupted into a maelstrom of violence. Tires screeched, guns fired, and engines roared as the cars careened around the yard.

Jaxon slammed his foot on the gas, his car tearing across the uneven ground as debris and shrapnel flew through the air. The first round of violence had begun. A man in a battered truck swerved into his path, trying to force Jaxon off course. But Jaxon had anticipated the move. He swung the wheel hard to the right, knocking the truck into a guard tower, sending it toppling in a fiery explosion.

But that was just the beginning. The real battle was only just starting.

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End of Chapter 24.