April 1997
Niko gripped the gunwale as the ferry pitched and rolled.
This was a bad decision.
The Scottish mainland was just visible over his shoulder, a shadow on the horizon. Shafts of watery sunshine reached down through the grey clouds that rolled rapidly overhead, leaving puddles of light where they touched the ocean’s surface. There was nothing to be seen from where he stood at the bow, only a wall of mist on a dark sea.
He could hear the cries of seagulls above the noise of the wind, gliding in the updraft of the ferry’s diesel exhaust. His cheap parka offered little protection against the elements.
He turned to find the source of the loud, sporadic flapping behind him. A hatch had come loose.
‘Bože me sačuvaj,’ he said aloud. God save me.
What had he been thinking? He’d never even heard of the boat’s destination before. He’d first seen it on the timetable at the ferry terminal that morning – Skarnsey – and he still wasn’t sure where it was. He only knew he hadn’t felt safe in Oban. The harbour town had been full of people – too many for his liking.
This had been the next ferry to leave, so he’d taken it.
He’d tried sitting in the cafeteria below, where his fellow passengers mingled amidst a fug of warm bodies, strong tea and hot chips. Most of them seemed unperturbed by the rough passage, although he’d occasionally heard the bathroom doors bang open and shut with some urgency after the ferry got underway. Then a woman had unnerved him, smiling at him with friendly curiosity as she flicked through a magazine she’d found on her seat, Smash Hits. On the cover was a photograph of a defiant-looking red-haired girl who appeared to be wearing the British flag as a dress.
‘It’s that Geri from the Spice Girls – our Lorna is mad about them!’ This comment was directed to the woman’s elderly father, who absorbed the information without comment. But she’d smiled again at Niko in a way that seemed to invite him to join their conversation.
He’d taken flight at that point, finding his way onto the forward deck just as the ferry met the open sea, passing more prudent passengers heading in the opposite direction.
He was the only person left up here now, his fear overwhelming. He’d thought the cold air might cleanse his mind and help him form a better plan, but his ears felt like they were being torn from his head.
A door opened behind him and a member of the crew ventured out to secure the loose hatch. Niko turned to look. The man was small in stature but obviously strong, his low centre of gravity providing a good sense of balance. His job done, the deckhand made his way back towards the doorway and looked directly at Niko, a puzzled expression on his face. Niko turned to avoid the man’s scrutiny, but didn’t miss the theatrical, mocking grin he flashed up at his crewmates watching from the control deck above, and the exaggerated shoulder shrug that accompanied it.
Unable to settle after the man…
One of the most noticeable feelings when playing speed stars is the pressure that often intensifies as the race enters its final stages. With the finish line within reach, players often start thinking more about their current performance, sometimes leading to unintended mistakes. This is interesting because the game not only tests driving skills but also challenges the ability to remain calm during crucial moments. Successful races often come from maintaining consistency until the final sprints rather than trying to overspeed.