Hey there, folks. I regrettably submit for your review yet another fanfiction.
*crowd boos*
I know, but I just couldn't help myself. Blame Pixar! If they hadn't made Cruz Ramirez so damn adorable I would've gladly kept this story to myself. That being said, Disney and Pixar own all the copyrighted characters you love and recognize. The ones you don't are most likely my OCs.
NO SPOILERS ALERT! This story has nothing to do with Cars 3. In fact, it's mostly a James Bond parody set in the world of Cars 2 that I started after I saw Skyfall (my first Bond movie) back in 2012. But Cruz is sooooooooo cute I wanted to write her in a sequel to this story. Well, I can't put up the sequel when you don't even know where the main character came from, so here it is; the story of how Brandi Smuthe (pronounced "smooth") became the world's greatest secret agent.
This first chapter is pretty long and I apologize. I wanted to put all of her old life in this one chapter to set it apart from the others. The Brandi of this chapter is forever dead and gone.
On a bright spring morning two fire red SUVs, a Chevrolet Trailblazer and a Pontiac Torrent, pulled onto the patio of a local bistro. The day was pleasantly mild as it wasn't humid or oppressively hot even though the sun neared its apex, but the shade of the patio's awning was still welcome. The bodies of both vehicles were overlaid in sanctioned decals, but they lacked the flashing lights and blaring sirens that their quicker, nimbler colleagues were outfitted with. A silver Corolla approached their table after about 10 minutes to take their orders.
"I'm really not all that thirsty. I think I'll just have a pint of coolant … synthetic please. Thank you," Brandi's focus remained on the convention center across the street from the eatery as she spoke to the waitress.
"Um … I'll have the same, uh … Sarah," said Skye, reading their server's nametag and managing to pay her more courtesy than her companion did. "I don't think I've ever seen you here before."
"Yeah, today is my first official day," gushed the attendant with a forged grin. "I'll be right back with your drinks."
"Looks like they're starting now, huh?" Asked Skye, following her friend's gaze from where they were parked at an outdoor table of their favorite café on campus.
Across the street, music and applause flowed from the enormous building and covered the comparably quiet grounds of Sonoma State University in a festive air. With the end of the spring semester, the streets were now completely bare.
"Anyway," spoke Brandi at last. "Last night on Naruto, they finally beat Kakuzu. Naruto delivered his size 16 rims right to Kakuzu's big ugly grille." She danced enthusiastically as she told the story of her favorite fictional hero.
"He kicked him in the face?" Wondered Skye.
"Well, no … he hit him with his new move; ras-"
"Rasen Wind Shuriken," interjected the Torrent with a chuckle.
"How did you know?"
"I'm a ninja of course," Skye grinned before spinning around and giving her tailgate a shake, thereby drawing attention to her license plate stamped with the letters I-R-N-I-N-J-A.
"Is that so? Well, I suppose ninjas weren't known for their grammar, " teased Brandi.
"Shut your fascia. You're just jealous because I got the plate first, but don't be. If anything ever happens to me, it's all yours. Besides, how did you even watch Naruto last night? We don't have a tv at home."
"Stayed late to help out in the library, in return they let me watch it on one of the computers. Anyhow, this episode made me think; … have you noticed that in these type of shows, the guy who trains the most always wins?"
"I think that makes obvious sense, don't you?"
"Well, yeah but … for example, Sasuke is considered a genius. He barely even has to try. Meanwhile, they say Naruto has no talent as a ninja and he has to work his wheels off just to be even with Sasuke. Yet, Naruto beats every opponent he meets no matter how strong they are. When they have their final battle I say he's going to destroy Sasuke, talent or no talent," said Brandi.
"He's so stubborn. I guess if you believe in yourself and never give up, you have to win eventually."
The breeze, warmed by the still rising sun, carried the dean's speech from the stage speakers and through the air, "These students are the smartest and most promising prospects to ever drive the halls of Sonoma State. Their tenacity will undoubted carry them over any obstacle to success."
"What a pretentious windbag," chuckled Skye. "You know he says that about every graduating class."
"Those poor saps have to sit over there and listen to him for the next 3 hours. Good thing we know better," the Trailblazer smirked. "Graduation ceremonies are such a waste of time. Take my picture, give me my diploma, and let me get on with my life."
"Amen to that."
The dean continued, "And without further ado; the graduates. Angela Aarons…"
"Oh yeah, she's promising … if you consider McDonald's to be success," Brandi continued her jeering.
"Dodge Adams … Torque Adams…"
"I thought Dodge got expelled."
"Sipes Allbrite … Percy Allspark…"
Suddenly, the convention center erupted in cheers.
"Ooh, Percy! Yay!" Skye cheered excitedly at the mention of a well-respected classmate.
"Congratulations, Percy!" Brandi added, also letting her adoration of the boy momentarily overwhelm her. "He's so awesome."
"Obviously," the Torrent quipped as Percy's revering fans persisted in their admiration so long the dean had to try to read the next name over their yelling. "His German accent is so sexy."
"Yeah, but I prefer British ones," said Brandi as the screaming of Percy worship continued across the street. "Sheesh, Percy sure has a lot of friends."
"Yup … it sounds like … all the graduates do," Skye replied in deep thought.
The pair sat in silence for a long while before Brandi spoke again, "Skye?"
"Hmm?" She answered.
"You're my best friend. Hell, you're my only friend."
"Likewise."
"Isn't that sad? I mean who are we kidding? The only reason we're not at that ceremony is because it would be too humiliating for our names to be called and then we'd have to drive across the stage while nobody cheered for us!"
"Calm down, Brandi, don't make a scene."
However, Brandi's outburst had already drawn attention. Two red cars, a Scion tC and a Mustang, left their spots at the bar and parked themselves at the table adjacent to the girls. They were fully adorned in emergency gear. Light racks were fitted atop their roofs and into their grilles. Certification badges decorated their rear bumpers, and every smooth surface of their bodies was covered in a decal. The left side said 'fire', the right 'rescue', and upon their hoods was '911'.
"Brandi! Skye!" Exclaimed the Mustang. "What are you two doing here? I thought you were graduating today."
"We are, Roush," Brandi replied. "But the cool kids don't actually go to graduation."
Sarah rushed up to the firemen, beaming excitedly, "Can I get anything else for you gentlemen?"
"No thanks, miss. We'll just have the COM.E.T. please," Roush winked.
The server left and returned with a COM.E.T. and deposited it on the table. The COM.E.T., or COMputerized Euro Transferor, was a black box which contained a computer surrounded by an inner case of hard plastic and an outer case of rubber. Holes were machined in the cases for access to the computer's ports. The top was a screen that, when the computer was plugged into, turned on and allowed the user to access their bank information.
"Oh, technology," chuckled Roush as he plugged his iTenna into one of the ports and paid for his and his buddy's meal. "What will they think of next?
"Yeah," agreed his companion as he waived his iTenna around playfully. "An antenna that does more than pick up radio signals. It plugs into stuff so we can interact with it. It's just about the greatest invention ever!"
"You know, I heard some kid in London invented the C.O.M.E.T. A kid!"
"Smart kid, I hope he's not the same one who's starting all the fires over there."
Quite familiar with the equipment by now, Brandi changed the subject, "How long have you guys been here?"
"Oh, about 15 to 20 minutes," answered the tC. "You?"
"'15 to 20 minutes', Gene?! And you're getting the COM.E.T. already! We're pushing 40 minutes and we haven't even gotten our drinks yet!"
"Eh, they're probably under staffed," Gene shrugged off her concerns. "Did you girls get the Gask-its? They are so good."
"No, we just got the synthetic coolant," sighed Skye.
"Or we will be getting it … eventually … I hope," growled Brandi, giving Sarah a stare as she served a Porsche couple.
"No, girls, emergency vehicles get a free plate of Gask-its," explained Roush. "Hey, Sarah!"
"Yes, Roush?!" Sarah zoomed up to the table, nearly leaving skid marks.
"Can we get some complimentary Gask-its for our coworkers here?"
Sarah looked at the two female SUVs with poorly concealed disgust, "Are you two emergency vehicles?"
"Yes, we are," Skye smiled pleasantly.
"That would be why he said 'coworkers' and why we're painted red with 'fire' and 'rescue' stickered on our asses, wouldn't it?" Brandi spoke through clenched teeth but, even in her annoyance, was too full of self-doubt to make eye contact.
"Oh, I guess I didn't notice," said the waitress as she left to put in the order.
Brandi's eyes followed Sarah as she drove into the kitchen, then they settled on a group of three vehicles in the corner: a Celica, an Eclipse, and an older Ford Explorer. The ornaments decorating their doors were the customary uniforms for employees of the café. The vehicles seemed to be having an intense conversation and judging by the way they stood, it was two against one. The Explorer was quiet. Her eyes were downcast and her whole face seemed to droop, completely devoid of energy. Meanwhile, the two female cars appeared to be blocking her escape with one on each side of her. The Eclipse left and went over to Sarah to whisper something to her. A forklift finished loading the Explorer's serving tray with drinks and SUV began to make her way to Brandi and Skye. Suddenly, Sarah bumped the tray as the Explorer passed, knocking it to the ground. The eatery fell quiet for a moment.
"SUVs are so clumsy," whispered the male Porsche to his wife.
Staring in utter disbelief, Brandi felt as though her tank was full of molten lead. "Did you see that?!" She asked her friend in a whisper so full of tension it was still rather loud.
"She dropped her tray-," Skye began.
"She didn't drop it! Those cars are bullying her!"
"Maybe she's new. Sometimes groups break in new members with a little bit of hazing."
"I'm going to the bathroom," Brandi replied tightly before pulling away from the table.
"Where's Brandi going?" Asked Gene.
"Bathroom … I think," Skye answered.
"Guys, it looks like there's more activity in Europe," Roush pointed to the bar's enormous flat screen with a tire.
"… This makes the third fire this month," reported the anchorman on the television. "The police believe it to be the work of a solitary arsonist. It is unknown what method is being used to start the blazes, but they have each been characterized as expanding rapidly to become huge conflagrations in mere minutes. The flames tend to be quite resilient as it takes large teams of fire fighters just to keep them from spreading. If anyone has any information on this they are asked to contact Scotland Yard or their local law enforcement."
"I so wish we were over there!" Shouted Roush. "We never see any action. Our last fire was like a month ago."
"It wasn't even a fire," corrected Gene. "It was a smoking oven that was jammed shut. If I have to respond to another elderly vehicle who overheated during sex or while driving to their mailbox, I'll go insane."
"Oh, yeah? Well, that's better than teaching fire safety at the Y."
Meanwhile, Brandi slowly made her way towards the Explorer as she attempted to clean up the mess.
"Uh, … w-what happened?" The Trailblazer stammered, struggling to sound nonchalant.
"I dropped my tray," the frazzled server replied hastily, not turning away from her task to purposely avoid eye contact.
"So, uh … are you new here?"
"I've been here two years," she answered, her eyes finally rising to catch Brandi's. "I see you and your friend all the time."
"Oh," Brandi responded, suddenly realizing she had no idea how to console her and wondering why she had even come over in the first place. She returned to her table feeling rather awkward and foolish.
"Hey look," chirped Skye as she sipped her coolant. "Our stuff finally came. The boys were right, the Gask-its are good. Try one."
"We'd better head home and get ready for work," said Brandi distantly.
"Yeah, we're taking off too," smiled the Mustang as he led his friend out of the eatery's patio. "See you girls at work!"
"Sarah," the Trailblazer stopped to give her server their COM.E.T. as she passed by. "I left you a big tip."
"Oh, thanks," Sarah flashed them an insincere smile as the two girls left the café. Curious, she activated the device then grumbled under her breath upon discovering that, instead of a dollar amount, typed in the 'tip' space was;
Stop being such a bitch.
Later, as they entered their small, two-garage unit, Skye pulled a notice off the main door that read:
You are behind in your rent. Please make this month's payment or you will be evicted.
- Management
"Maybe we should start paying our rent again," Skye suggested.
"Yeah right. We're not paying until the complex's carwash is fixed," Brandi replied. "It's bad enough over twenty tenants have to share a teeny, five-bay carwash, but it's unacceptable when three of those bays don't even work!"
"I can see why that'd be such a big concern to you. You do smell like a tractor."
"Very funny, but for some of us being a firefighter isn't enough to pay the bills. Some of us need two jobs."
"I wouldn't call your racing a 'job'," teased Skye. "It's more of a … a … what's the word?"
"Hobby?"
"No, I was thinking 'unnecessary drain on your paycheck'. I mean, you spend all your money on stuff to make you a better racer and you never win."
At that, Brandi replied, "I'm getting better. When I start winning I'll make all my money back and more."
"I know you don't want to hear this, Brandi, but those cars don't want to see you win. In fact, the only reason they let you race with them is because they like watching you lose. We just have to face the fact that we live in a speed-dominated world where if you can't go zero-to-sixty in less than 4 seconds you're a second-class citizen."
"Maybe you're right, but I want to change all that. I want to be a great racer. I want to put sports cars to shame and show the world that greatness isn't measured by how streamlined your chassis is or how fast you are. Then they'll have to start respecting us. Wouldn't that be nice?"
"Yes, it sounds wonderful but we both know you're just going to give up," sighed Skye. "In fact, I'm surprised you've stuck with it this long. Commitment really isn't your way."
Growing irritated by her friend's sudden snarky-ness, Brandi countered, "The only reason I give up on things at all is because I don't have anyone to support me!"
"I'm sorry, Brandi. I didn't mean to criticize you. In fact, I'm proud of you for sticking with something so difficult. I know I couldn't do it."
"It's fine. The truth is … I've really only stuck with it because … it's easier than coming home to this empty apartment."
"In that case, let's continue not paying our rent. Then we won't have to worry about coming home at all, " Skye joked.
The two friends laughed before prepping themselves for work.
Throwing herself upon her thick memory foam mattress, Skye groaned, "Ugh! I really don't want to go to work today. It's going to be a bad day."
"What makes you say that?" Inquired the TrailBlazer.
"We ran into Roush and Eugene outside of work. That's a bad omen you know."
"You're probably right but come on anyway. If you continuing working hard and get promoted to Fire Chief, we can afford a tv."
"No, not me. You should do it," the Torrent rectified. "With your bachelor's in psychology and your 'racing' experience I'm sure you'll get it."
"You've got the same degree I have! Now get up!" Brandi shoved her friend from her bed, "Besides, you have better people skills. I could never kiss as much ass as you do. I'm just lucky our waitress didn't spit in my drink."
"Oh, I thought mine tasted funny. I must've gotten yours by mistake."
Laughing together the whole time, the pair made their way to the local fire station. As soon as they entered, Roush rushed to greet them.
"Ladies, ladies, we're so glad you're here. Big Ed knocked over all the paint cans and we need you to mop the floor."
The girls drove out to the massive 4-engine garage. However, only one of the resident fire trucks was present. They approached the huge vehicle to assess the damage. His lower right side, as well as much of the floor, was covered in green paint.
"Oh Eddie, are you alright?" Skye soothed.
In a deep, gruff voice he replied, "Those guys are assholes."
"What happened?"
"I was catching some shuteye. They startled me and made me accidentally hit the paint shelf. I'm sorry."
Brandi pulled the R.F.C. from the storage closet and turned the machine on. Once active the Robotic Floor Cleaner hummed as it made short work of the mess.
"You're telling me those two morons couldn't do that?"
"Those two morons couldn't even spell R.F.C.," Brandi smirked. "Where are the other fire trucks?"
"Gene had Emma go do his presentation at the elementary school for him and Roush sent Joe and Alice home," Ed answered.
The TrailBlazer was flabbergasted to hear of the Mustang and tC's reckless decision-making, "What?! What if there's a fire?!"
"There isn't going to be a fire," Roush interjected as he drove past. "There's never a fire. So I'm not going to let 4 fire engines sit around and collect overtime for doing nothing!"
"You guys aren't doing anything … besides irritating Ed and making us clean up your messes!" Brandi argued back.
"We're supervising. It's one of the things we're paid to do, just like doing whatever your supervisor tells you is one of the things you're paid to do. So, get cleaning!"
After Roush left, Skye used her tire and a towel to wipe the paint from Ed's side, "See, Brandi? If you were fire chief we wouldn't have to take orders from Roush and Eugene anymore. In fact, you might even be able to 'fire' them … pun intended."
"You're probably right but I told you; I don't have the people skills for that. That's why I don't have any friends besides you," Brandi replied.
"Same here."
"Don't lie! You have lots of friends! There's that guy from our psychology class, that girl you shared notes with at the library, the girl who was in your advanced trigonometry class, and I know I've seen more."
"You mistake acquaintances for friends," Skye explained. "We're not close. I don't hang out with those vehicles and I certainly couldn't rely on them or talk to them like I do you. If I didn't have you around I'd be just as alone as you would be without me."
"Awww!" Brandi gushed at her friend's confession, teasing her further by nuzzling her fender.
Skye laughed, "You know, I've read a quote that states, 'If you are lonely when you are alone then you are in bad company.'"
The TrailBlazer stopped and gave the Torrent a strange look, "What the hell does that mean?"
"Well, I think it means that we should learn to be friends with ourselves."
"Wha? You mean like a real life shadow clone jutsu?
"That's not exactly what I meant but I guess it could work as an example. Suppose the shadow clone justu were real. People could be their own support when they didn't have the company and strength of friends or family to help them," Skye spoke soothingly as she led Brandi through a visualization. "Close your eyes and imagine that you're surrounded by clones of yourself that have their own thoughts and independent free wills. Now, imagine that they all want to hang out with you. They all think you're awesome and capable of achieving anything. They've all got your back 100%. How does that make you feel?"
"Pretty damn good. Too bad it's not real," Brandi pined.
"You have to make it real … in your mind. I believe that's what the quote means. That is how we should feel about and treat ourselves all the time."
Suddenly, the station's alarm went off. Its piercing, rarely-used cry startling all the emergency vehicles.
"What the-?!" Brandi exclaimed, shocked from her meditation.
"Roush! Gene! You guys better not be trying to prank us again!" An irritated Skye warned.
"No, it's a real fire at the Sonoma Indoor Speedway. Dispatcher says it's pretty big," Roush was a mixture of excitement and worry. "There's no word on what caused it yet but a couple of racers and crewmembers are believed to be trapped inside."
"Roush! For some strange reason I can't get ahold of Emma, Alice, or Joe! What are we gonna do?!" Cried Eugene.
"We're not gonna panic about it, that's for sure! The rest of us will just have to go and do what we can, but keep trying to get in contact with them!" Instructed the Mustang.
"Ready, Eddie?!" Skye asked as she prepped the fire engine.
"I was built ready!" Ed grinned.
"Then let's fight some fires and save some lives!" Brandi shouted, leading the group from the station.
When the four rescue vehicles pulled up to the location, they were taken aback. Majority of the building was already in flames and large portions of the west end had collapsed already! Many vehicles were outside coughing and gasping for air but screaming and crying could still be heard inside.
"Oh … my … Dodge..." gasped Eugene, eyes wide with terror.
Even veteran Ed was nervous, "T-this is the biggest fire I've ever seen. There's no way I can put this out by myself."
"Don't talk like that, Eddie. You're not by yourself," comforted Skye. "We're here too."
"Alright, team, this is a really big building and it's coming down quick! We don't have much time and we don't know how many vehicles are trapped inside! One of you girls is gonna have to come help me and Gene search inside for survivors!" Directed Roush as he put on his mask and gear.
"No problem," Brandi volunteered, already suited up.
"Good! Skye, you help Ed suppress the flames where we'll be working. Once inside, we'll be able to cover more ground faster if we split up."
"I-I-I think I should stay out here and help Ed suppress the flames," Eugene stammered.
"Gene, I need your help inside, man!" Roush argued.
Another section of the building fell and cries of fear and agony rang through the air.
"There isn't time for this! It's okay, Roush! I'll go," said Skye. "Ed, can you clear the entrance so we can get inside?!"
"I'll do what I can!" The great fire engine directed a powerful burst of water to the speedway's East entrance. It took a few moments but he managed to extinguish the flames there.
Brandi, Skye and Roush hustled inside. Once in, the smoke was so thick they could barely see each other. After a quick perimeter check, the team established that the East wing was clear. It was still for the most part intact and all the vehicles in the East section had been able to make it out on their own.
"I'll go this way and search the North side! You two go that way and search the South side! One of you needs to push through to the collapsed West side, and we'll meet up with you there! Let's go!" Ordered Roush before turning and disappearing into the smoke.
"You heard the man," said Brandi as she led her friend deeper into the flaming establishment.
Carefully, the SUVs navigated the tumbled debris. They were about halfway through the southern wing.
"So far so good," said Brandi just before a wall came down before them, opening a path deeper into the section.
"Yeah, don't say that," advised Skye, taking point as she moved to the new opening. Inside, there was a green racecar trapped beneath a fallen beam. "Brandi, look there!"
Brandi studied the situation. The support had dropped right in the middle of him. If it slipped just a fraction more, he'd be cut in two. If he wasn't dead already, he was as good as dead she thought before replying, "I think it's too late for him, Skye! Leave him! We need to focus on rescuing survivors!"
Skye checked him for CPU activity, "He's still alive, Brandi! You go on ahead, I'm going to get him out!"
"Yeah right, so you can tell everybody I left an alive guy to die," Brandi came to her friend and the racer's sides. "I'll wedge something under the beam so it won't fall any further."
The TrailBlazer pushed a big, metal dumpster beneath the girder's base.
Suddenly, out of the smoke came a desperate plea, "Is anyone there?! Someone, help me please!"
Without a second thought, Brandi charged through the hazy, gray abyss, following the direction in which she heard the cry. Unexpectedly, a pair of hazel eyes and buck teeth were in her face!
"I'm here! Are you injured?!" Brandi asked, doing her best to sound calm even though she'd stumbled backwards when she saw him.
"Oh, thank goodness!" A rusty tow truck replied, "Not me, it's my friend! He's trapped! Please save him!"
"Take me to him!"
The truck led her swiftly through the path he'd used to get from the collapsed West wing. This annex was used to store tires, old and new. The burning of rubber had the whole area filled with black smoke.
"We won't be able to see anything in this smoke. Stick close to me," said Brandi. "What's your friend's name?!"
Mater pressed his side to the firefighter's, "McQueen! Lightnin' McQueen!"
As they slowly made their way through, Brandi shouted to be heard over the roar of the flames, "Mr. McQueen! If you can hear me I need you to reply!"
"Lightnin', buddy! Where are ya?!"
"Mater?! Is that you?!" A voice answered in the darkness. "I'm over here!"
Brandi followed his voice to a garage bay sealed by a fallen slab of concrete that had broken into big uneven pieces. When the backdraft caused the smoke to change direction and subside a bit, she could see the racecar's blue, frightened eyes peering through the rubble at her, "Mr. McQueen, are you injured at all?!"
"No, no, I'm just trapped! Please hurry and get me out of here!"
"Don't worry, sir, I'll get you out, but I need you to back up as much as you can!" Brandi pressed her fender to a jagged cement block and shoved, it's sharp ends scraping up her paintwork. It didn't budge. "They're too heavy! I can't move them! But I have an idea." Returning to Mater she asked, "Sir, may I borrow your tow cable?"
"Sure!" He responded backing up so the firefighter could secure the cable around the debris.
"Now drive! Pull as hard as you can!"
Mater did as instructed; pulling for a long while until his strength gave out and he broke into a fit of coughing.
"Sir, you've inhaled too much smoke already! You need to leave before you stall or pass out!" Brandi advised.
"No! I won't leave my best friend behind!" Mater refused.
"Mater, go! Save yourself!" Lightning insisted.
"No, buddy, I won't leave ya!"
"You have to! Please, I need you to tell Sally I love her and look after her for me," Lightning smiled at his friend through the little gaps in the pile.
Mater looked back, eyes teary, "… Okay …"
"Just follow the same path we came in to go out. I'm gonna stay here and do what I can for your friend," the TrailBlazer said to the tow truck.
After Mater was gone Brandi found a tire iron and wedged it between the concrete chunks, prying again and again. A section slipped and the pieces fell only to settle more firmly in place!
"No!" She screamed in frustration, backing up and ramming into the debris. She cracked her grille but the pieces didn't budge again. What more could she do? What more should she do? Having only been a firefighter for about two years, her career was short and unimpressive. She only had about 15 rescues under her fan belt and this was her first big fire, but she took pride in her flawless extraction record. The victim may not have always pulled through in the end but she did ALWAYS manage to get them out of harm's way. That was her strength, her special ability, her whole reason for being, or so she thought, but now up against a real fire she had failed. Maybe Roush, Gene, Sarah, and every other car she'd ever met were all right; maybe there really wasn't anything special about her at all. Nothing but a slow, lowly sports utility vehicle, she'd probably be better off dying in the fire with McQueen. She wasn't going to leave him and ruin her record that was for sure. Distraught, Brandi pulled back to where she and Lightning could see each other.
Her face had lost all hope and a tear fell from her earnest green eyes as they met his, "I'm sorry, sir. I wish I could get you out but … I'm just not strong enough…"
Lightning sighed, coming to peace with his fate, "It's alright, miss, you don't have to cry. I'm okay with it now."
For a long time, Brandi parked there, unwilling to leave him, and closed her eyes to think. Maybe the smoke and fire would overtake her as she sat and she patiently waited for her life to pass before her eyes, but the visions never came. How rude! Even in death her life mocked her, but it was undoubtedly for the best. A recap of her lifespan probably would've been depressing to watch anyhow. One memory in particular did grace her final moments; she recalled her favorite show and wondered what Naruto would do in her situation. If only the shadow clone jutsu was real. Her engine had taken in a lot of smoke now and her mind was hazy as she recalled what Skye told her about real-life shadow clones.
"What the fuck are you doing just sitting there?! You know this place is on fire right?!" A familiar voiced admonished.
The TrailBlazer opened her eyes to stare directly into the green eyes of another red TrailBlazer, but not just any TrailBlazer, it was her!
"The heat must be getting to me," Brandi said in a daze.
"Yeah, yeah. Get your ass up!" Said her twin, pushing her to get her moving. "We need to get out of here NOW!"
"I can't leave Mr. McQueen."
"We're not, but you're sure as hell not gonna save him sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Now let's push this concrete out of the way!"
"I can't…"
"What?!" The clone asked in disbelief, "Your life is on the line and you're giving up? If you had thought like that, you'd have been scattered across the country by that F5 a few years ago. I thought Bombshell and Naruto taught you to never give up! Now get up and try again! I'll help you!"
Groggy but with new resolve, Brandi leaned back against the concrete and called out to Lightning, "Sir?! Mr. McQueen, are you still with me?!"
His voice was weak, "I'm … here…"
"I need you to back up as much as you can one more time! I'm going to get you out of there or die trying! Believe it!" She then turned to her double, "I know you're a figment of my delusional mind but you better get over here and help me push!"
"You got it!" The copy replied.
Brandi forced her fender against the cement block again as hard as she could. Its serrated edges gouged deep into her sheet metal.
"So … heavy!" She yelled against the pain.
"No it's not! This pebble is nothing for a big, strong SUV like you! Now let's save this poor, helpless, weak, scrawny, insignificant little car!" Her twin cheered.
"It's starting … to move! Ahh!" The chunk was slowly moving and forcing Brandi to groan in discomfort as it continually cut into her.
"Are you alright?!" Lightning asked at the sound of her cry.
"I'll be okay! Just … a little … bit more!"
Dust and rocks fell onto her roof, a telltale sign that if she moved this one piece it might all come down, but Brandi was decided. She was getting McQueen out even if she buried herself in the process, "Get ready! You're going to have to make a run for it!"
The concrete slipped loose, sending Brandi falling forward as the whole pile came crumbling down beside her.
McQueen shot through an opening in the tumbling debris, "I made it out! You did it! I'm free! Ahh!"
A huge piece of the ceiling fell between the two vehicles almost crushing them both!
"Don't start celebrating yet! Hurry, follow me out of here!" Brandi made a dash for the way they came in, but beams and more rubble plummeted to block the path. A bit of sunlight was shining in from where the back wall had broken away and she pushed the racecar through the opening to the fresh air outside. She looked up as the whole remainder of the roof gave way before squeezing through hole herself, just in time! It took a few long moments afterwards to sink in that she wasn't dead.
"Are you okay, Miss?!" Lightning asked, his voice gradually becoming louder and clearer as Brandi returned to reality.
"Yeah… let's get you checked out," she said as she escorted him around the building to the East parking lot where her team and ambulances were waiting.
The fire was mostly all gone but the smoldering building still smoked furiously. The other three fire engines had arrived. The one called Joe was still watering the smoking ashes of the Sonoma Indoor Speedway, while the exhausted Ed rested. Next to him was the anxious tow truck.
"McQueen, yer safe!" Mater cried as he nuzzled his friend, overjoyed.
The racecar and his companion were loaded into ambulances and hauled to the nearest hospital.
"Brandi! I'm so glad you made it out!" Sighed Ed in relief.
"Me too," Brandi smiled. "So, that's how the fire got put out so quickly; Emma, Joe, and Alice finally showed up."
Ed's voice was low and resigned, "Yeah, they came as soon as they heard. Oh, you're hurt! Let me treat your wounds."
"Thanks." Once treated and still high on adrenaline, the TrailBlazer drove over to the rest of her team to congratulate them, "We did it! We finally got a real fire and we kicked its ash!"
No one returned her enthusiasm. Eugene and Roush's eyes were downcast. Emma and Alice sobbed uncontrollably.
Brandi was confused," So, why does everyone look so down? Why are Emma and Alice crying?" She looked around the parking lot of vehicles for a certain face that was strangely absent, "Where's Skye?"
Being the leader, Roush slowly rolled forward to answer her questions, "It seems … the section where Skye was … collapsed and … she and the racer she was trying to save were crushed. They were the only casualties. I'm so sorry, Brandi."
All the sound around her faded away and the only thing she could hear was her own breathing, which was becoming increasingly more erratic.
"Brandi? Brandi, are you okay?" Eugene asked, recognizing the brewing panic attack and shaking her gently.
"This is all your fault!" She exploded in unbridled fury, "If you weren't such a fucking coward, Skye would've been outside and safe!"
Roush quickly moved to block the SUV from attacking his friend, "Brandi, calm down! It's not Gene's fault!"
"You're right, it's yours! If you hadn't sent all the other fire engines away we could've put the fire out faster!"
"Brandi, stop it! It's no one's fault! I'm sorry, but sometimes bad things happen … and it sucks! You think you're the only one upset that Skye is gone?! She was a valuable part of our team and we're ALL gonna miss her!" He yelled back in an attempt to use his authority to intimidate her into calming down. "Now go home. Get healed up, grieve, and get some rest. Get a whole week's worth of rest and feel better."
The only thing keeping her from breaking down right there in the parking lot was the fact that she loathed for others to see her cry. In a numb, zombie-esque trance she stumbled home, fighting every mile to keep her anguish hidden beneath the surface.