DRIVEN

01

"For fuck's sake Evan! Slam the brakes!"

Following the aggressive tone of a grown man, the squeal of the black on black's tyres on solid sand reverberated across the bush. As the car came to a halt, one of the doors was kicked open. Out of it came a man dressed in torn police leathers and a near permanent resting bitch face. With a slight limp caused by an old injury, the man walked over to driver's side door and pulled it open.

"Get out. I'm driving home," he gestured with his thumb behind him.

In the seat was Evan. A much younger man whose features near mirrored his father, save for the wear and tear from wandering the desert for years on end. The boy let his hands drop slowly from the steering wheel as he scooted himself across the bar seat.

"What was wrong with that? I didn't hit anything and it's not like I was going too fast," he argued as the car dipped from Max's weight entering. At first, the older man ignored his son while he changed gears and soon had them on their way home. Evan kept his gaze hard on his father waiting for a response.

"Well?" he pushed.

"What you did back there was terrible mate. Just because you've got a fast car doesn't mean you got to use it that way all the time! Christ, those corners back there were tight as and this car ain't your mother's," Max finally answered, his voice audible over the rumble of the car's powerful engine.

The answer left Evan pouting on the passenger side of the seat, letting his eyes drag to the landscape of the outback flashing by. It hadn't always been this way for him. Hell, it was only a couple years ago it was just him and his mother – Beau. Life was admittedly a lot harder. She was always near to protect him from whatever the wasteland had to hide in its darkness. Evan grew up on her words of wisdom and her fury against double crossers that roamed the wild in search of those who had lost all their will. He grew up alongside someone who was a protector to more people than just him. But, Beau would always tell him stories of his father. A man of equal legend who was a true enforcer of these morals.

Facing the reality of his father, Evan couldn't see anything of the man he grew up listening to stories about. Instead he saw a man who was selfish and sought only to survive alone and without the kindness of strangers to keep him going. But, there he was sitting in the car next to him and Evan kept his eyes away from the ever judging presence of his dad.

With a harsh lunge forward, Evan knew he was back home. He quickly swung himself out of the car and walked around to find his mum. Being left alone with his thoughts made him want to seek out her comforting aura. Sure enough, he found her working on her own car. A much sleeker and lighter mass of raw power than what Max drove around.

"Hey baby! How'd the lesson go?" she called over her shoulder. From what Evan could see, she had layers of grease across her face and had obviously been working on her ride for quite some time. It was weird the following few moments. In Evan's head it all went so quickly. One minute he was fuming in a silent anger that was all pointed towards his dad. The next, well he ran over to his mother and started balling his eyes out. He cried heavily into her legs, wrapping his arms around her. Soft hands pulled him closer.

"Guess it didn't go too well then," Beau said softly. His muffled sob filled the space as he pulled closer. He shook his head softly to say 'no' but, he pulled away to elaborate upon his reply.

"I'm trying so hard mum. I really am but whatever I do just isn't enough for him to say that I'm his kid. He always says that whatever I do isn't right or shouldn't be done that way. But what does he know about me? Max was never there when you raised me. But why do I seek his approval? Why should I care about what he says?"

Little to Evan's knowledge, Max had walked in. He stayed near the 'door frame' and listened to the kid's confession. Now, to anyone that knew him well enough was that he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve. Instead, gears inside his head shifted as he took in what Evan was saying. He knew it was hard for the kid to see that his hero wasn't as glamorous as his mother had made him out to be. But Max saw something. An image of a boy on the cusp of adulthood much like himself seek for the approval of an older man. This image made his feelings for Evan as his own child ignite. As he stood there, Max decided to not make his presence known but leave instead to think over what he could do to make all those years up to the kid he never knew he had.

A few years following

"Before you take off on me, have a word with your father. He has something to tell you before you go," the gentle hand only a mother could have landed on Evan's shoulder as he turned back around.

"Thanks mum, I'll chat with him before I go," Evan shrugged on his gear – a very simple worn coat and various leathers from long lost uniforms now adorned in a fashion known only to wanderers. He walked around to the front of their home. Out there stood Max appearing to be admiring his beloved Interceptor. Evan had never forgotten that first lesson in the car and as he approached he gave Max a tap on the shoulder.

"She's done us all well through the years, dad," Evan said in a tone that could only be described as reminiscent. Max returned the hand on the shoulder and gave his son an affectionate smirk.

"Couldn't have said it better myself son," he replied. "But that's why she's here. Through all the years I owe you and from what I've seen in these past few years I can see a promising young man. So here," he paused to grab the keys and placed them softly in Evan's hands. "The Interceptor, the black on black, is now yours."

Evan held his hand out for a moment, registering what his dad had just said and what he had just been given. Before words or anything else came, he pulled his dad into one big hug. The hug was deep and endeavoured to make up for all the years the two men had lost. With that simple gesture, the young man who was more man than anything at this point jumped in the car and drove off.

The End