The Crimson Cyclone stretched almost three hundred feet into the air, its red tracks twisted into impossible loops and corkscrews that defied gravity.
The mechanical roar of cars climbing the initial ascent mixed with the distant screams of riders plummeting down the first drop.
A park attendant in a bright red uniform gestured them past the snaking line of waiting guests, scanning their VIP passes with practiced efficiency.
"Right this way, gentlemen. The front row is all yours."
Kane practically bounced on his feet as they approached the gleaming cars. The safety harnesses looked substantial enough to restrain a small aircraft, which did nothing to ease the tension radiating from Cyrus's shoulders.
Kane slipped into the front seat, grinning as Cyrus hesitated beside the car. He pulled the harness down over his chest, the metal clicking into place.
"Come on—don't tell me the great and mighty dragon is afraid of a little height?
