Disclaimer: I don't own Tracks or Raoul, or the Autobots and Decepticons for that matter.

Speed Bumps In The Night

"What were you doing in a cemetery at this time of night and why are you soaking wet?!" A glimpse of the looks on their faces stopped Tracks from complaining about his interior being ruined. He transformed in the middle of the dark street and let Raoul and Talia in, turning the vents on high. The humans were glad there was no wait for the air to warm up. Neither answered him right away. They shivered, hugging arms around drenched and slightly torn matching pirate costumes.

Tracks revved his engine impatiently -- more from apprehension than annoyance. Something was wrong if Raoul wasn't already telling him everything. He also clicked on his hi-beams. For whatever reason there were no streetlights on this block. "Let me guess, someone dared you and you went for it? I understand the spirit of this night from what you have told me, but I cannot fathom why being out here in the cold and the dark is better than indoors -- where you could just as easily turn off the lights and turn up the air conditioning."

He waited again, but the only sounds were their still-heavy breathing and small shifting on the seats, hands rubbing over clothing, and the occasional chatter of teeth from shivering.

Or was it fearful trembling? What happened out there? Tracks backed up a few feet, turning slightly to shine his headlights into the trees to the low stone wall that marked one edge of the cemetery. He had heard all about Halloween from Raoul and had done a little research of his own. He knew about the entertainment side of it, costume parties, scary movie marathons, and young children dressing up to collect candy from their neighbors. He also knew about the pranks that were pulled, and he had spent most of the evening either driving around or parked, always on the lookout for anyone coming at him with a spray can or roll of toilet paper. His evening, however, had been uneventful until a page came in from Raoul. There had been no message so Tracks followed the signal to his coordinates. He had arrived, transforming to robot mode out of fear they had been hurt, just as the two humans came racing out of the woods. They hadn't spoken then as they had yet to speak now.

He didn't see anything out of the ordinary. True it was a grim and uncomfortable place, but what else can you say about a cemetery? He felt the same way about scrap yards, even though Transformers knew for certain where their sparks went after death. "Haunting" and "ghost", among other related words, had been unfamiliar to him. He did find the research interesting, though, and had once or twice pondered what would happen to a Transformer's "spirit" if it didn't rejoin the Allspark. Right now it seemed theorizing was out of place. Human brains worked differently from a Transformer's so he had to start thinking of it the way they were or else he might never find out what was going on. Was there a pond somewhere in that cemetery? Had someone snuck up on the two and thrown buckets of water on them? Were they merely speechless from the shock of cold water and betrayal-by-prank by a known friend? Or had they gone in there in good humor only to have the misfortune of being found by unknown others with cruel intentions? A simple scan showed there were no wounds on either of them.

He backed up again and turned further to get another angle on the cemetery, switching from hi-beams to regular, holding that for half a minute as he ran a scan and observed with all his sensors. The wind blew through tree branches and brown leaves skittered by, twirling upward here and there at random. Or so it looked to the naked eye. Infrared showed dark blue lines right in the middle of each. He assumed the air pressure causing the swirls to begin with was extra cold within the miniature vortexes. He focused beyond them to the stone wall. Everything was in cool tones. He caught the flicker of a scattered handful of brave lightning bugs and one reddish-white spot near the base of the wall that was shaped like a small animal, perhaps a late-foraging squirrel or young rabbit; it wasn't unusual for them to be around in this area, even at this time of night. If there were pranksters about he didn't pick up on any. He shifted back to the normal spectrum as one of the tiny leafy whirlwinds danced against his left wheel well. An unbidden shiver went through his frame and not from the cold. It felt like someone had stroked that side of his hood. He was accustomed enough to admiring touches from humans to know the difference between that and the skip of the wind over his paneling.

"Sharp ride."

Tracks would have jumped out of his skin if he had it. The voice was that of a young man, younger than Raoul. Who it was didn't bother him, butwhere he had come from. There had been no one anywhere on the entire block for the last fifteen minutes. He only now heard the footsteps coming up on his right. His sensors read an image of a handsome youth with neatly trimmed blond hair wearing a letter jacket of maroon and white, his hands in the pockets. He wore pressed tan slacks and what might have been black dress shoes. It seemed an odd combination for what might be for all intents and purposes a jock. Or what his costume alluded to. Tracks relaxed partly, glad that his windows were tinted. Raoul and Talia seemed content to sit quietly and shiver, even with the heat still going full blast. If this young man was one of the pranksters -- maybe he went around to another exit from the cemetery? -- then Tracks could question him without any hysterics from his passengers. He used his holographic projector to make it look like the driver's side window rolled down half an inch, with a vague form of a driver within. "Thank you, sir. Tell me, have you seen two young people in this area? Both are Hispanic and in their late twenties and they were wearing pirate costumes. I was supposed to meet them at a restaurant a few blocks east but some of their other friends said they were coming here for something. I understand if you have seen numerous people of that description tonight."

The youth smiled and shrugged. "You got me there, mister. I seen plenty 'a weird folks tonight."

His manner of speech struck an odd note in Tracks, but he let it go. "But none in this precise area? Going into the cemetery, perhaps?" It occurred to him just then that it wasn't very likely a prankster would admit to doing something. He sighed to himself and waited.

The youth rubbed his chin. "Come to think 'a it, I did see about six people go in there earlier, two of 'um looked like pirates." Tracks tried to recall if Raoul had four friends he would be willing to go into a cemetery with, given the reputation of some of his associates. "They went in through the gate a little ways that way, and went up around the hill to the north. Quite a site in that direction, I tell you."

"Oh? I'm from out of town and I am not familiar with the local lore."

"Really?" The youth seemed to smirk. "And you're just hanging out here now? Ignorance is bliss, after all!"

Tracks sniffed indignantly. "I beg your pardon?" In truth, he had looked for information on this suburban area after Raoul had told him about his party invitation and hadn't found anything too peculiar.

"I suggest you see for yourself." The youth's smile was friendly again. "Just head for the gate." He pointed. "You can walk there, even."

"I prefer to drive, thank you." Tree limbs creaked overhead. The Corvette moved past the youth, straightening into the lane and rolling the sixteen or so feet to the gate. He again turned in order to shine his headlights at it, scanning with infrared also. Another small animal-like spot by the wall, probably kin to the other one. The colors spread to cool very quickly the further into the cemetery he focused. Not surprising since it was getting later as time went on and there was nothing left of the sun's heat.

The youth followed after, gliding past to stand by the gate as if everything was all fine and dandy. He waved a hand. "C'mon. I said it was easy enough to walk."

"I would rather stay in here, thank you." Tracks wanted a confession, not the scene of the "crime". Although the path was wide enough for a car -- seeing as people drove to gravesites during normal hours of operation -- he wasn't going to bring his charges back in there while he was in car mode and unable to do anything. He switched his attention to them, whispering through the inside speaker, "Raoul! Get with it! What happened? I am not going to sit out here all night talking to some kid who probably should get back to his own costume party. Talia? Did you two fall asleep with your eyes open?"

His camera showed that they did seem to be staring at nothing. Even if they were staring out of the windshield at the stranger that would be something. But their gazes weren't focused on anything in particular. Tracks felt unsettled. Even if he wouldn't transform right then, getting some clues from his onboard equipment would be helpful. He heard the wind and saw more leaves go flying by. The youth was still by the gate, looking expectant. Tracks pondered how long he would remain there and even began to wonder if he was inebriated. Then the 'Vette jerked backward a foot as something moved along the bottom of his undercarriage. He knew that sensation from maintenance work. However...that was only possible when on the lift. Here he was too close to the ground for anyone to--

The youth's expression had become a broad grin. Tracks had noticed it even as he was puzzling out the familiar but impossible feeling. He was about to call out a protestation against tricks when another voice came from his left, female this time.

"Sharp ride." She was about the same age as the young man, wearing a shimmering blue dress and carrying high-heeled sandals in her left hand, a riot of red curls spilling over her shoulders. She wore a silver necklace with a charm in a familiar shape, although Tracks couldn't tell the details of it enough to guess what it was for certain. She stopped and leaned over to pat the Corvette's hood, sliding her hand over the smooth line to the headlight. "Stingray. Always a classic."

Normally Tracks would have revelled in the ego boost but right now he felt uncomfortable from her touch. It felt like a lingering streak of cold had settled on his hood. He wished he could say it was his imagination. It was fortunate he could consciously regulate his vocalizer and not give anything away. "Do you two know each other?" The young woman walked over to the youth and hooked her arm around his. That answered that. "Don't you have somewhere to be tonight?"

"Yeah," the young man said. "But we gotta find someone."

"I don't suppose he went into the cemetery, too? Is everyone falling into dares tonight?"

The girl smiled. "That's what happens on Halloween."

"As I am aware." Tracks felt he should be backing away from the pair, and he did so inch by inch, creeping back with the brake loose and more than ready to just gun it and head down the road away from that gate. He flicked to infrared briefly. More of the animals were grazing. They must have been below the level of his headlights because he didn't see them immediately when he switched back. Or else his sensors were set too high and he was seeing their heat patterns through the wall.

He switched to infrared again.

Then to the normal spectrum.

Then back again.

There were no heat patterns where the two humans stood.

His tires squealed as he put it in full reverse. The sound finally reached through to his passengers. Raoul cursed and Talia gasped then screamed, pointing out the windshield. Tracks grimaced internally and latched the seat belts over them, ready to peel out. Talia screamed again, waving her hands frantically. "They'regone they'regone they'regone again!"

"Again?" Tracks tried to not sound as nervous as he felt. "Did you run into these two before? Did they pull some trick on you -- like I think they have pulled on me?"

"N-Not a trick, man. Get OUT OF HERE!" Raoul stomped on the gas pedal but Tracks kept his control.

"Allow me pick a direction first, Raoul. This..This is highly unusual but--"

Talia was suddenly jerking on her seat belt, struggling to unlatch it. At the same time the vents that had been heating the interior without a care for what else was happening emitted a blast of frigid air then stopped altogether. Tracks uttered something resembling a strained gurgle. Any remaining heat disappeared; Raoul and Talia could see their breath puffing out before their faces. They looked at each other, near hands darting toward one another. Then Raoul stared as a pale hand came over the back of Talia's seat and tapped her shoulder; mutually, Talia saw a slender hand come over Raoul's seat. They both turned. The pair who had been outside by the gate a moment ago were now in the backseat. As one they screamed and grabbed for their respective door handles. "T-T-Tracks, man! D-D-Do something!!"

"I...I can't..." Tracks' voice was filled with as much fear as Raoul's but not raised at quite a full octave higher as the mechanic's had been. Having his circuits hijacked via a cerebro-shell or other mecha-electrical manner he understood. But this felt completely different. He couldn't even describe it. Just that he had no control whatsoever, and that scared him because if he couldn't even move he couldn't protect his friends at all. He gave up trying to make his own doors open and addressed the invaders. "What do you want from us?"

"So you're the real driver, huh?" the young man asked, his voice cheerful. "I thought as much."

"I suspected you already knew that." Reigning in his fright, Tracks decided to approach this situation in his usual manner since there was little else to be done.

Raoul and Talia drew back as the youth stuck his head forward to regard the dashboard. "I thought something was weird. But I didn't think spirits could control other spirits like we are you."

Tracks took a second to absorb that. "What do you mean?"

"Aren't you a possessed car?" The young woman's tone was innocent. "Although it surprises me these two spooked so easily if they already know a possessed car. But then, that is a different type of haunting, isn't it?" She grinned over at her companion and made a pushing motion with one hand, turning up the palm of her other and flicking her fingers outward.

Talia shuddered, rubbing a still-damp sleeve. Tracks frowned internally. "So you are the ones who caused them to get soaked. What was the point of that?"

The boy waved dismissively. "Oh, they happened to wander into our spot. It's always like that on Halloween. Except most people come to think they've slipped by accident. These two were different."

"Now you're saying there were only two. What about the other four? Raoul, did you or didn't you go in there with anyone else and accept a dare?"

Raoul had started to curl up on the seat, but he sat straight to rail at the Corvette, "T-Tracks, how can you just talk to them like this is some normal conversation?!"

Although it was completely unnecessary with the very topic sitting amongst them, Tracks lowered his voice. "...What other choice do I have..?" Despite her own fear, Talia reached out to pat the dashboard.

"Anyway," the young man continued, "We followed them and noticed an odd energy signature. That would be you, Mister Car."

"Myname is Tracks."

"How quaint," the youth replied in a plucky tone. "So how did you come to possess a car?"

The young woman piped up, "And such a choice one! I've always wanted to drive a 'Vette!"

Suddenly she was sitting on Raoul's lap -- or so it appeared, since her lower half was now translucent. Her hands closed on the steering wheel. Talia looked terrified and offended at the same time. The former won out so she only stared. Raoul, meanwhile, yelped.

"Sorry to disappoint," Tracks snapped, "but this car does not go until Isay so!"

Raoul gazed past the ghost to Talia, mouthing the words, "I don't know what to do." She bit her lower lip in response. Unseen by him, she dug her fingers into the seat cushion.

The young woman pouted at the dashboard. "Oh, what good is it to be a sports car if you don't want to go anywhere?"

"I have been to plenty of places and had as much excitement as I can stand. I don't need help from the likes of you to continue the trend!"

"Butwwhhhhyy?" the ghost whined. Her companion kept out of it. He whistled a random tune, his hands folded behind his head. The whine rang through the interior and faded. It seemed it would go unheeded. Then Tracks said quietly, "Let them go."

"Pardon, Mister Car?"

"Let my passengers go and I will take you for a drive."

The doors popped open. Tracks sighed aloud in relief, both at the agreement and the feeling of part of his body returning to his control. If briefly. Raoul and Talia scrambled out, neither going far. They weren't about to leave him to the mercy of the spirits. The young woman settled fully into the driver's seat while her companion drifted forward into the passenger side. "About time." He grinned and pulled the door shut. The commandeering 'driver' did the same. Tracks waited for the mechanisms to seize up again but they were left alone.

Raoul fumbled through his pockets for the small comm he had first paged Tracks with. He found it, set it to send as text and whispered into it, "What are you doin' man? You can't go off with them! They might wanna go halfway across the states!"

The message that came back was grim. "Again...what choice do I have? I could not just let them hold you like hostages, even if they might not have realized what they were doing." A pause. "I don't think they mean harm. Even if they pushed you into a pond -- and scared you out of your wits -- you were not harmed."

Raoul stared at the comm, muttering, "Naw, ain't like I'm mentally traumatized or anything."

Two last words came through. "Follow me."

Raoul was wondering how they could possibly do that when the Corvette peeled away -- straight toward the cemetery gate, which opened of its own volition. Raoul stared. "Is this really happening?" He clasped Talia's hand. "C'mon! They won't get too far, too fast in there!"

Tracks held back a cry of dismay as he bumped and scraped over rocks, the damp, unevenly mowed grass making his tires lose traction more than he liked. While there was a road, it wasn't well tended at this end of the cemetery. Plus his driver did have most control and was making her own path to wherever it was she intended to go. He was thankful she wasn't trying to drive through gravestones. Perhaps as a ghost herself she had enough respect for others even if she wasn't resting peacefully.

He still had no idea how this was even happening. He would send some automail to Perceptor the next chance he got. If he had any next chances. Another jolt over rough ground made him wonder how this was going to end -- if just because he was certain she had never learned to drive during her life. He saw the northward hill the young man had mentioned as they approached it head on. He braced himself for an impact with its steep side, feeling and knowing they were going too fast to take the angle correctly. But they swerved to the side instead and went around the hill. He now held in a sigh for instinct told him this was not a better option.

A worn-out picket fence lay on the other side and beyond that was the steeper, almost sheer drop of a bigger hill. "W-Where were you planning to drive, madam?!" Tracks sputtered. He let out a shout as his front fender crashed through the fence. Before his tires cleared the edge he wrested control of himself back and transformed. The change unfortunately brought its own momentum into play and he fell. He didn't know if his unwanted passengers were still around, although his chest felt cold. He scrambled to catch hold of the edge but he was too heavy for it to hold. His fingers dug furrows into the hill as he slide downward. He made an attempt to turn and use his feet to slow himself but that only made him tumble the last thirty-odd feet to the bottom. He landed on his side, displacing a half dozen small trees, then righted himself to sit leaning against the hillside. He groaned and shook his head, not wanting to know what that had just done to his servos and paint.

"Wow." The young man was staring up at him. From the middle of his torso. Tracks' optic cameras crossed.

"Wow!" echoed the young woman. She drifted out and down to the ground, her companion following. She grinned at Tracks. "You really are something different! How did you do that?"

He stood and dusted himself off. "I will tell you later. Now why did you bring me here? What was wrong with a normal drive through town?"

"I told you," the young man said, "We need to find someone."

"Another one like you?" Tracks sighed in resignation, glancing up the hillside. He caught a glimpse of Raoul peering over the edge, then he disappeared. He wasn't sure how his friends were going to follow now and he hoped he wasn't merely leading them into more trouble. "Some actual answers would be nice. I do have other places to be tonight."

The two traded glances then smiled back at him. "It won't take long." They headed down a narrow road that was being swallowed by overgrowth even as Tracks watched. He waited, wondering what was stopping him from finding a way back up, walking away, and forgetting this night ever happened. He planned to spend all future Halloweens locked in a garage. Raoul and Talia were not allowed to go to any more costume parties, either.

Just as he was about to take the opportunity to walk away he seized up all over. A chill stabbed into his very fuel lines and he fell forward with a similar gurgle to before. He sent an override command through his processors but it found nothing to override. This had been easier to deal with when he was on solid pavement and in a faster mode -- and, admittedly, with the presence of allies nearby.

"Where do you think you're going?" The young woman's voice was sweet; Tracks heard the menace behind it. He was suddenly glad he had left Raoul and Talia behind. He hadn't been badly damaged by this yet. There could be long-term effects. He wished he hadn't said anything to Raoul about the lack of harm done. Inevitably there would be some.

"Exercising my right to free will." He glared at her, mustering as much defiance as he could when all he could do was move his head. The cold receded and he hauled himself to his feet. Brushing off his arms again, he followed the two spirits without looking back. He began to ponder if his blacklight beam gun would have any effect on them. He figured that it couldn't possibly hurt if it didn't work -- they might just pass right on through as if it was just another patch of darkness in the woods that felt like they were closing in around him. Somehow the trees seemed that much taller, the wind trailing leaves blowing that much stronger and harsh. The road went down along a flatter hill, narrowing until it was all but a footpath and Tracks had difficulty maneuvering through the trees. He felt a chunk being scratched out of the side of his overhead armor by one thick, reaching branch. Once he made it past there the wood opened into a leaf-encrusted clearing. He looked for signs of his guides but realized he hadn't been paying much attention to them for the last six minutes. He had seen where they had gone and had made attempts to follow. This was where they should have been.

Tracks walked further into the clearing, looking around. Narrow rocks about the depth of car trunks littered the far end of the clearing, plastered with leaves, most sticking up out of the ground and others lying flat. As he moved closer, he saw that they were car trunks. The ones laying flat were only the back part of the car. "What is this?" he murmured. "A vehicle graveyard off the side of the human one?" No reply came since the errant spirits were still no where to be seen. He frowned angrily. They could hide easily enough and be right in front of him. He moved away from the cars, looking for some other clue why he had been lead here.

Presently he heard the distinct chik-chik-chak of a Transformer starting to switch modes. His gaze darted around. Nothing had come up on his radar.

He was the only one there.

There hadn't been another Transformer within a hundred miles of this area the last he had checked.

While he couldn't dismiss the possibility a Decepticon could have dropped in, he knew he would have been attacked by now. A lone Autobot in the woods would be too tempting a target.

The wind blew. A chill shot up through him...as clawed fingers dug into his leg. He yelped and jerked away but a pair of hands grabbed for his other foot. The problem was they were not human hands. They were huge, like a Transformer's.

And they were made of corroded and rusted metal.

Tracks attempted to yank free again, succeeding in escaping the single hand. It flailed about, reaching again. He ignored it and pried at one, then the other of those holding his foot. He managed to loosen them just enough then he scrambled toward the cars, optics on the ground for any more surprises. "What is going on here?! There can't possibly be other Transformers out here! I think I would have been told if someone from the Ark came out here and went MIA! And if this is the Decepticons, it's pretty elaborate for just one lone Autobot." The hands were all flailing now. He stared, backing up further until he bumped into one of the standing car ends. He glanced over his shoulder at it, noting the rusted out corner. He was unable to suppress a grimace. Then he noticed the style of the taillight placement and the form of the trunk itself.

It was a Corvette. He didn't have time to figure out what year or model, but the rear was distinct enough. An odd feeling gripped him and he shuffled past it to the next one. Also a Corvette. He checked a third and fourth.

Someone had a collection. And he, the transforming Corvette, had been in the wrong place at the very much wrong time. He wondered if it was possible the ghosts had known about him all along and had used Raoul and Talia to lure him here. A booming sound came from behind him and he turned in time to see dirt flying as the owners of the hands came shooting out of the ground. They were no Transformers, for their limbs floated separate from their bodies. They were just cobbled together, not actual robotic beings. Time and rust had claimed the rest of them, too. Leering heads made of mishmash engine parts groaned at him, their clawed hands reaching. Rational thought was starting to flee again. How was he going to get out of this?

He looked around at the scattered, ruined 'Vettes, shuddered, then looked at the approaching monsters. He narrowed his optics. "Sorry, chums, but I do not fancy spending the rest of existence buried out here. I am much too good-looking to be forgotten in the woods." He armed his dual incendiary missiles and prayed he wouldn't start a forest fire, then braced himself for the recoil.

He never got that far. Another rusted creature leapt from behind and tackled him to the ground before the missiles released. He kicked at it, loosening its grip enough so he could turn and push it back with his hands. Corroded metal crumbled beneath his fingers, sludge-like oil spattering his chest and face. He spat it out, sickened. The creature raked its claws over his arms. Tracks kicked again. The creature started to come apart but he didn't have time to get up. The other two were now upon him. They dodged his kicks and punches by separating at what would have been the point of impact. Due to this trick they soon had his arms held in the clutches of one, the other pinning his legs down. He figured he could still fire the missiles, though, and the one holding his arms was directly in line for it.

Tracks hoped that Raoul and Talia had stayed on the ridge. They would probably see the explosion from there. He fired one missile.

The rusted monster squealed as the impact threw it backward. Tracks gasped, fearing his arms would be yanked off their rotators. But they remained in place while the monster went flying. Its main body smashed into a tree while its limbs just kept going. Tracks whipped a fist toward the other one, not stopping to ponder why the missile hadn't exactly exploded. But he was glad to still have his own head since the range had been far too close. The second creature snarled and swiped at him, barely missing his face. He was about to use his remaining missile on it when the third monster reappeared. Tracks wondered again how effective the blacklight beam gun would be.

He didn't have time to take it out. The first monster also returned, howling something fierce. A corroded hand grasped his chin, the fingers digging into the pliable metal. He was unable to move his head away. A cry escaped him. He hoped he would at least get some answers before he was turned into scrap...or whatever it was they planned to do to him. Unlike the other cars it was possible for him to be buried alive.

"WHO ARE YOU?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"

The young woman materialized out of the head of the monster holding his chin. She smiled down at him. "All our other toys are broken."

"And whose fault is that?! You should have tried parking them correctly!"

Fury flashed across her face. "Be quiet."

The cold seeped into him again, stilling his last struggles and freezing up his vocalizer. Anger gripped him as much as fear. After everything else he had been through it was ridiculous that he was to meet his end at the mercy of these inexplicable beings. The three drew away, the second and third clattering to the ground with their phantoms hovering above, the young man from before as well as another, slightly older-looking yet identically dressed male with dark hair. For the first time Tracks noticed there was a symbol above the letter. It matched the one on the girl's pendant. It was the paired flag emblem of a Corvette.

He accessed his interior speaker and found it was in his control. It would be muffled, but it would get the point across. "What are you, serial Corvette stalkers? A bunch of car thieves, hmm? I've dealt with that type before, and believe me, it did not end well for them. And you have chosen the wrong Corvette to steal."

The lot of them looked surprised he could still talk. The young woman floated out of her construct -- sending it rattling to the ground -- and hovered before his face. She scowled, raising her hand before her. Tracks felt himself moving up to stand, the ghost drifting along to remain directly in front of him. He tested his relays. There seemed to be a way to bypass the cold sections. He focused on it and in a moment had his blacklight gun in hand. He fired, leaping back at the same time. He misjudged, however, and went stumbling over a car carcass. This was lucky for a second later the rusted remains of one of the monsters came flying toward his location. He ducked again as it came sailing back then he scrambled across the entire length of buried cars.

"I...am not...just some...mechanical...puppet," he panted, glaring toward his assailants. Not surprisingly the blacklight beam had done little. It clung to a tree behind the ghosts where it would uselessly remain until it faded out on its own.

It did, however, seem to have their attention. The third spirit was agape. "He casts darkness."

The blond-haired one had that cheerful grin again. "I told you it was a possessed car! He's perfect!"

Tracks slapped his gun against his palm. "Has it occurred to you that I might want to continue my own "haunting" where I please?"

The young woman's eyes blazed. "You came to our spot. You don't get to."

"You led me here! ... Is this whole cemetery your 'spot'?!"

She smirked. "Our spot is wherever we feel like being at the moment."

Tracks made his optics flare brightly. "Then perhaps I should show you what I am truly capable of!" He backed away until he had enough space free of cars and a view of the most lengthy path the clearing offered. Then he transformed and flipped his wings out. He gunned his engine and routed extra power to his subsonic flight generator, firing it up to take off providing he got enough clearance. The young woman's eyes flashed again and she waved both hands. Rusted bits came flying at him. He gunned his engine again in defiance and drove forward. The assault was slowing him down. Then hands grasped his rear fender, stopping him cold. Literally, of course. His wheels spun in the leaves.

Now he was trapped in vehicle form, with the three monsters taking humanoid shape again and closing in once more. He wracked his processor for another idea. Transforming would deny him the flight that would get him away faster, but he could do nothing else this way. So he switched to robot mode in hopes even that would throw off the monsters for a few seconds. He kicked outward as his lower half spun around, knocking away one of the creatures and catching the leg of another. This time the limb crumbled to dust from impact. Not much, but it was one less projectile.

The fight was short and futile. Tracks was soon surrounded again with little to show for the whole thing except another four crumbled pieces. The one monster with two intact arms had one hooked around his neck, its other arm coiled around his gun hand.

A horn honked from somewhere outside the clearing just before a dark green boat of a vehicle shot right through a tree to his left. It sailed into the monster holding Tracks, slamming into him as well. He fell to the side with an "Oof!" while the car dropped straight to the ground. It was saved by its shocks and kept rolling as the driver backed it away. "Go, Tracks! NOW!"

It was Raoul's voice. Tracks gaped. The ghostly woman screamed in outrage. The monster that had been hit lay in a heap. Without stopping to think Tracks raced for the tree Raoul had driven through, his friend driving at his heels. The tree was an illusion. He didn't know how it had fooled him. He let Raoul get ahead of him then he transformed, racing directly behind to keep to the correct path out.

They eventually came to another gate, this one polished and the area tidy. It was like being in another world. But they didn't stop until they were ten blocks away and firmly back in civilization. By now the Halloween parties had ended and all was quiet and dark save for a few festive lights here and there. They pulled into an empty parking lot outside a grocery store. Not caring if anyone saw, Tracks transformed, although not without an agonized cry. That last bit of damage had effected his frame. He rested on his hands and knees while Raoul and Talia climbed out of the car, both white as sheets. "Y-you okay, man?" Raoul placed his hand on Tracks' forearm. "I'm sorry I--"

"Forget it. It got me out of there. And I am not asking where you procured the car from."

Talia went right ahead and hugged Tracks' wrist. "What just happened?"

Tracks shook his head. "I have no idea. Ghosts are beyond me, but I believe those are some extremely unrestful car enthusiasts."

Raoul studied one of the scratches on Tracks' arm. "They could've killed you..."

The 'Vette grimaced. "I don't doubt it. But let us not dwell on it. I assume we have a little bit of work to do before we end this night."

With the borrowed car repaired and returned, the three went back to the party Raoul and Talia had started out at, waking up the friend to let them in for the remainder of the night. No questions were asked; there had indeed been a dare involved and one look at the condition of the two had the guilt-ridden host offering them his own bedroom. Tracks accepted that he had to park in the street, too sore to care much. Being plastered in toilet paper would have been preferable to what had happened.

Around noon Raoul and Talia emerged, neither appearing rested but not wanting to overstay their welcome even though their host was calling out apologies as they reached the bottom of the steps. Daylight revealed Tracks to be an utter wreck. "Holy geez!" came a cry from the house's doorway. "Your car! Oh, Raoul, I -- I--"

"We knew about it, Bobby" Raoul said. "I know, it was too dark to see it when we got in last night..."

"Did those vandals get it? Aw, man, I'm sorry. Look, you want to use my card at the shop? I thought it would be safe around here."

Raoul considered the offer if just to make sure Tracks would be able to make it home where the real problems could be fixed out of public view. Then he gave pause. "What vandals?"

"It's in the papers. Some nutters have done serial vandalism on Corvettes." He jogged up the steps, went back inside, and returned with that morning's paper. He held up the front page. It had a photo of the street outside that one particular cemetery gate. Several trees were laying in the road and there was a gold Corvette sitting on its roof lengthwise across the street. Looks were deceiving, however. Closer examination of the photo showed the car was pitted with rust. "At least that one ain't somebody's new car. They must've pulled it out of a junk yard somewhere. But the police think it's a calling card of some kind. I can't imagine why anyone would do it."

"M-Mind if I keep this?" Raoul asked with his eyes glued to the photo.

"Please. If there's anything else?"

"I might want to take mine by the shop just to see if I can drive it home. I, heh, do have the right paint and everything at my place, you know?" Raoul winked, trying to shake off a sudden case of chills.

"You got it."

While Bobby's mechanic was looking over Tracks, Talia and Raoul read the article. They kept going back to the photo. There were the usual pedestrian rubberneckers on the sidewalks, quite a few in costumes. In the far right corner of the photo were two young men in letter jackets and a young woman in a blue dress.

End