I don't own Cars. If I did, Doc would still be alive, and Chick Hicks would be getting trolled ALL THE TIME.

I do, however, own Marina Stryder, so please credit me if you use her.

- Chapter 1: Gone Girl -

It was a dark and stormy night. Not that Marina Stryder minded. Actually, the weather matched her mood and made her even more certain no one would notice the black 1951 Hudson Hornet coupe as she sped away from the city of Chicago that she'd finally had enough of. She couldn't decide exactly what had made her decide to leave. Maybe it was the rush everywhere, or the fact that people were concerned only with themselves. Or maybe just that, despite all the rush, no one was really GOING anywhere. They were all just settled into daily routines that they repeated like robots.

I'm not a robot, Marina thought as she passed through one of the suburbs. She didn't know or care which one. To her, it was one more thing between her and the city.

She'd chosen Route 66 instead of the interstate. The interstate was too much like what she was trying to get away from. Plus, she'd heard talk of street gangs causing accidents on it. While she knew she was built like a tank compared to newer model cars, she still didn't want to take a chance.

Marina had left suddenly, but she'd made sure to sever all ties to Chicago. She'd left the key to her apartment in her landlord's mailbox, along with a note explaining why. She thanked him for letting her live there, and for helping her find work when she'd first moved there. He really was a kind car, and she would miss him. But she knew he would understand, and he would have encouraged her to do what she was doing anyway.

Her two bosses were a different story. One would be stoic and indifferent, like he was about everything. The other had probably been getting ready to replace her with someone who was a newer type of car anyway, so he wouldn't even miss her. Still, she'd written to both of them, and her final paychecks would be direct deposited into her bank account.

Her "friends" didn't matter that much. Marina didn't think of them as true friends anyway, they were just a group of luxury cars she could get out of the house with and could stand to be seen in public with. They were girly-girls, frivolous and pretty shallow (one had a total meltdown once because there was a tiny spot of dirt on her paint) and often made Marina roll her eyes and question her decision to be associated with them. But someone had to keep them out of trouble when they stupidly went to a bar and had too much to drink, and the big Hornet was the only one who could seem to do that.

She'd packed all of her things in her trunk, along with some fuel, so she wouldn't have to stop much. She wanted to just drive and drive until something inside told her to stop, that she'd found her place where she'd stop permanently and settle down, far away from her old life in Chicago. Already, the suburbs were behind her, and the towns were getting smaller and farther apart, and between them, her headlights were the only source of light in the inky blackness.

It seemed this was what she was meant to do, for she blazed down the road at top speed and never saw a single cop. Perhaps the universe was keeping them away, so she wouldn't have to stop for a speeding ticket. She didn't worry about the turns, even the sharp ones. She easily drifted around each one. It must have been some sort of instinct that came with being a Hudson Hornet, since they were known for taking sharp turns at high speed like this. She welcomed the rain and wind in her face, as it only made the speed more exhilarating. She could hear herself laughing as with every mile she drove, a bit of the weight of the life she'd left was blown away, and she was finally being freed. It was like the wind carried her down the road. No, it was more like she WAS the wind. Either way, it was an intense rush, the most thrilling thing she'd ever done.

She switched on her radio to her favorite mix station and turned it up loud so she could hear it over the storm as she sang every song as loud as she could. She'd never felt so wild as she did now. She understood what drove the illegal street racers, now. This feeling of the wind in their face, of knowing how fast they were going, and of feeling so light they could almost fly. She could just imagine herself soaring off into the night, a victorious smile on her face. She didn't know or care exactly what from, but all that mattered to Marina was that she was finally free.

She wasn't sure how long she drove, stopping only to refuel with what she'd brought. The day and night (or was it days and nights?) all melted together in her elation as she followed the old road south to St. Louis, then turned west from there, a black rocket gone in the blink of an eye.

She had entered Ornament Valley late at night when it happened.

One second she was driving along, the next smoke was coming from under her hood and she could hear loud pops. She fought hard to keep going, but her engine finally stalled out and she rolled to a stop.

"Wha-But I've never broken down in my life!" Marina cried in disbelief. She let out a frustrated scream that echoed off the giant rock formations around her. As she listened to the echo, she looked around and began to replace her frustration with fear. There was no sign of civilization anywhere. No one would know she was here, and she couldn't move anywhere fast to go get help.

Great, THIS is how I go out. she thought, And I don't even know where I am.

She was so focused on her thoughts that she didn't notice the old police cruiser that pulled up to her until he spoke.

"Can I help you, miss?"