Hello, everybody! This is the sequel to Ghosts, which you should really read before reading this one if you haven't, because it probably won't make sense, so I decided to write this sequel to it, and I must warn anybody who doesn't like OCs, because I think they are people who don't, for some reason, this story is littered with OCs. Buster and Miss. Baker belongs to me, though I don't who would want her, lol, but Kira and Dan both belong to my friend, Kira McQueen, and I did have permission to use her characters, but I don't want to give too much away about this one! I hope you enjoy it, though!
Buster Miles was having a hard time focusing on his lessons.
It was another long, and boring day at the Rust-eze racing center, and his mind kept on drifting off when he should've been more focused on the engine he was trying to fix for class. He was in a different place and time, however, the place being an old haunted graveyard where he had ran into a vastly aged and dying Lightning McQueen, and the time just a couple of days ago, though now it already seemed like a long time ago to Buster, who was missing the friends he had made back in Radiator Springs. He was more concerned about Lightning and the grieving Sally Carrera he had left behind than he was with his engine at the moment, which was an usual thing for him because he wanted to be a mechanic more than anything when he got older and was very determined in making his dream a reality.
The engine itself he had gotten from the very graveyard in question, and had once been the heart of a soul of a vehicle at one time. The thought kind of saddened Buster a little bit, since he had obtained the engine for the very purpose he was using it for now: a class project, but at least it wasn't being wasted, like it would've been if it had been left in the graveyard.
"Busters Miles, get your head out of the clouds and come back down to earth."
The voice jerked Buster out of his reverie, and he came to with a jolt, swerving wildly around for the owner of the familiar voice, knowing who it belonged to.
He came grill to grill with his teacher, Miss. Baker, who was looming over him, glaring down at him.
Buster gulped and cringed from the unforgiving glare she was giving him. This wasn't the first time she had called him out for being distracted from his work, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "How's that engine coming along, Mr. Miles?" she asked, narrowing her condescending gaze at him. "You're never going to become that mechanic you want to be so badly if you always have your head in the clouds."
Buster swallowed again. "I know, Miss. Baker," he said, and began to stammer, struggling to find words."I'm sorry, Miss. Baker, it's just that, my mind has been on a lot of things lately, and I'm finding it hard to focus on my work."
Miss. Baker snorted. "What do you got to worry about?" she asked, snickering, a mocking, leering smile crossing her grill. "You're like what, only five?"
"Twelve," Buster said, proudly, glad to see Mrs. Baker didn't know everything about him, like she claimed, sometimes.
"Big deal," Miss. Baker said, not at all impressed. "You young whippersnappers think you know everything these days-"
Suddenly, the door opened, and Tex Dinoco, the owner of the Rust-eze racing center, drove in.
Buster had never been happier to see him.
Mr. Dinoco had to have been the oldest car in the Racing Center, and had been around the place for as long as anyone could remember. He had been there ever since Buster had first came to the place, and that had only been a few years ago, but he knew Mr. Dinoco had been at the Rust-eze racing center a lot longer than that.
Buster's happiness was short-lived.
"Howdy, Miss. Baker, class," Mr.Dinoco said, rolling slowly up to Buster's teacher, his loud voice filling the room with his thick, southern accent.
Miss. Baker gave Mr. Dinoco a nasty, scathing look, very much like the one she had just given Buster. "What do you want?" she asked, her tone deadly.
"Well, I came to have a word with one of your students," Mr. Dinoco said, turning regretfully toward Buster. "You're Buster Miles, right?"
"Yeah," Buster said, nodding. He had passed Mr. Dinoco in the halls a couple of times, and they always said hello to one another. Buster was still surprised he had remembered his name though, when he considered how old he was, recalling how forgetful Lightning had been when he had found him, and Mr. Dinoco had to have been older than him by at least several years. Some days Buster didn't even know how Mr. Dinoco was still alive.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, but it might be best to talk about it in a more private setting, what do you think?" Mr. Dinoco asked, his usual jovial tone uncharacteristically grave, making Buster even more worried than what he had been before.
"Yeah," Buster said, driving out from behind his desk, the sudden surge of fear he felt almost overwhelming him. Mustering up what courage he could, he followed Mr. Dinoco out of the door, anyway, wondering what bad news the old owner had.
"You haven't heard the news, yet, have you?" Mr. Dinoco asked him, once they were in the hall.
"No," Buster said, almost afraid to know what the bad news was, but curious despite himself.
"I'm surprised, it's been all over the news all morning, but I guess where you've been at school all day, you haven't really had a chance to catch up on anything, yet, have you?" Mr. Dinoco asked, looking on Buster with dread.
"No," Buster said, shaking his hood.
Mr. Dinoco took a deep breath, and his entire frame shuddered. "Lightning McQueen…I'm afraid, kid, is…dead," he said, coughing a little on the words.
Buster stopped in his tracks, pulling to a stop in the middle of the hallway, feeling as if the floor was dropping out from under him. "What?" he asked, gasping for breath, feeling tears prick at his eyes. "When?"
"Just this morning, I'm afraid, kid," Mr. Dinoco said, and gave Buster a sympathetic smile, but looked as if he was about to start crying himself. "Sally contacted me this morning, told me to tell you to get in touch with her. She said he died not long after you left, but he went peacefully, in his sleep, which is the best way anybody can go, and I think that would've been the way Lightning would've wanted to went, too."
"Yeah," Buster said, hearing his voice crack. "I was just thinking about him, you know?"
"I'm sorry, kid," Mr. Dinoco said, sounding as if he truly meant it, so much so Buster was starting to feel worse for him than he was himself. "I know how much the old man meant to you."
"I know," Buster said, and felt his fenders getting hot, growing embarrassed with himself for getting so emotional in front of Mr. Dinoco. After all, he wasn't a very emotional car.
"Let's go see Miss. Sally, kid," Mr. Dinoco said, driving a little farther down the hall, but not so far that Buster couldn't catch up to him quick, Buster being a lot younger and faster than he was. "She's waiting on you."
"Got it," Buster said, feeling as if there was an empty pit in his engine.
He had never felt more alone and lost.
Mr. Dinoco took Buster to one of the Rust-eze's racing center's many monitoring rooms, where a big screen TV was mounted on the wall in front of them. "I'll get you in touch with her, kid," he said, switching the lights on, and Buster tried to blink at least some of the light from the brightness lightning up the room out of his momentary, blinded gaze.
Buster watched as Mr. Dinoco flipped a switch on the side of the wall, and there was, all of a sudden, strange whirring and beeping sounds seemingly coming from nowhere when the TV came on in the room, filling the space with even more light.
Fearing he was going to lose his vision permanently, like Lightning had, Buster closed his eyes, when he heard the soft, sad, but welcoming voice coming from the TV.
"Hello, Buster, honey. Are you there?"
Buster forced his eyes back open, tilting his grill up a little bit in order to look up at the screen.
"Sally!" he exclaimed, pleasantly surprised to see her, but saddened by her frail appearance. Somehow, she appeared feebler than what he remembered her being, and her more fragile frame scared him.
Buster heard Mr. Dinoco's voice behind him. "I'll just leave you two alone," he said, and before Buster could turn around and say anything to him, there was a click and a soft thud of the door closing behind him.
"Hi, honey," Sally said, her eyes heavy-lidded and swollen, as if she had been up all night crying, and she probably had, Buster thought with great sorrow. "I suppose Tex told you the news, didn't he?"
"He did," Buster said, and lowered his eyes, finding it hard to look at Sally's mournful expression for long without feeling tears well up in his eyes again.
"I just wanted to tell you, we're holding his funeral tomorrow," Sally said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between them. "You're invited, if you want to come."
"I'll try my best to come," Buster said, his eyes meeting hers again. "I'm so sorry-"
"Don't be, it's not your fault," Sally said, and Buster saw a slight tremble in her lip. "He was just very old and sick, and he had been trapped in that awful graveyard for so long." Her voice started quivering, and she closed her eyes, beginning to sob. "It was the graveyard that killed him more than anything, I think." She opened her eyes again, and there were tears in them this time, but there was also a hint of anger in her voice. "No, who am I kidding. It was our fault. Maybe if we had gone looking for him there sooner, he wouldn't have been in that bad of shape when we found him."
"Don't blame yourself, Sally," Buster said, resisting the tempting urge he had to call her Mrs. Sally, and had to stop himself, remembering how she had admonished him for it just before he had left the graveyard. "It wasn't your fault, either. We never know how these things are going to turn out."
"I know, but I'm going to be doing this for the rest of my life, trying to figure out what I could've done more to ease his pain and suffering," Sally said, pausing for a moment. "I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I?"
"No-" Buster began, but Sally quickly interrupted him.
"I' am, I could tell, so don't lie to me, Buster," Sally said, but smiled. "Pun intended."
Buster sighed with relief. "I thought so," he said, smiling with relief, just glad she wasn't too angry with him for lying. "Sorry I lied."
"That's okay, you were just trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate you trying," Sally said, chuckling a little. "I'll just let you go then, leave you alone, and I'll see you at the funeral tomorrow then?"
"I'll be the first one there, bright and early," Buster said, and finding the switch Mr. Dinoco had flipped on awhile ago, fliked it off.
When he looked back up at the TV, it was nothing but a blank, black screen and Sally was gone.
Buster met Mr. Dinoco back in the hall, where the old car was still waiting for him. "Well, how did it go, kid?" he asked, beginning to start back down the hall.
Buster drove beside him in silence, trying to think of what to say to the business mogul.
"She…to be honest with you, Mr. Dinoco, she looked bad, worse than what I remembered," he said, shuddering. "I'm worried about her, to tell you the truth."
"Grief will do that to a car, kid, especially an old one like her," Mr. Dinoco said, choking up a little. "She's been around for a long time, almost as long as Lightning lasted, and something like this…dealing with the loss of a loved one…it's a lot harder on us older cars than what it is on the younger ones like you. You guys quickly get over it. Not that I'm saying you still won't miss the old man, because you will," he quickly added, seeing the hurt look that must've been on Buster's grill when he had said this. "I didn't mean for it too come out that way, kid, but in a few days it'll feel like none of this ever happened to you, and it just won't hurt as much, but with us older ones… the grief…it sticks with us more, because we know our time's almost up, too, and that it won't be long until we join them, which is also a very comforting thought, too ."
"I'll see you later, Mr. Dinoco," Buster said, when they came to the door to Mrs. Baker's classroom at last. "It was nice talking to you." This last one was a little bit of a lie, but Buster wasn't about to tell him that. He usually enjoyed the talks he had with Mr. Dinoco, and he still considered him a good friend, but this one had left Buster feeling a little bit different.
It had made him feel more than a little uncomfortable.
"You, too, kid," Mr. Dinoco said, already taking off down the hall. "Guess I'll see you at the funeral tomorrow. I was invited, too."
"Okay," Buster said, pushing the door to the classroom open with one of his tires.
A little bit shaken up by Mr. Dinoco's little life lesson and the little chat he had just had with Sally, Buster was trembling very badly when he crept back in Miss. Baker's room, shaking so bad, in fact, Miss. Baker had asked him what was wrong, which surprised him. He never would've thought Miss. Baker would be able to show any kind of concern for him. Maybe the old witch had a heart after all.
"Nothing, Miss. Baker," Buster said, and somehow managed to give her a small smile, trying to put on the bravest face he could, and went back to his desk, trying to do to his best to live out a normal day at school when he felt as if he was dying inside.
Lighting McQueen was dead.
Thousands of cars from all over the world, including everybody from Radiator Springs, it seemed like, had showed up to pay their respects to one of the greatest racers who ever lived. Even the King and his nephew had came.
Sally had decided to hold his funeral on a little hill overlooking Radiator Springs, the very same hill where they had buried Doc all those many years ago. She had told them to dig his plot right next to the old Hudson Hornet's grave, knowing that would've been what he would've wanted.
Sally stared down at the open grave, which was empty, at the moment, and hadn't been covered, yet, tears in her eyes. She couldn't believe this day had come. She never thought she would be Lightning McQueen's widow, but here she was.
"He would've been proud of you, you know, to see how strong your being."
Sally jumped at the sound of the voice, having not heard anyone come up behind her, and swerved around to face its owner. "Oh, Strip, I didn't hear you come up behind me," she said, gasping for breath. "You really scared me."
Strip 'the King' Weathers slowly pulled up to her, looking worse than she had remembered him, almost as bad Lightning had at the end. He was small and vulnerable, no longer the larger-than-life racing legend he had once been. By the looks of him, she feared he wouldn't survive the journey back home, and didn't know how he had even made the one here. "I'm sorry, Miss, Sally, I really am," he said, his once smooth, warm, southern accent now gravel-like and grating and from age, his voice shaking. "For scaring you, and the lost of your husband, I mean. He was a dear old friend. "
"Thank you, Strip, but you didn't have to come all this way," Sally said, dismayed by how pitiful he looked. "I know this had to have been a long drive for you, and you really shouldn't have come this far."
"Don't worry, I actually didn't drive it myself," Strip said, a slow, wan smile crossing his grill. "I had one of my old rigs bring me."
"Well, that's good," Sally said, relaxing a little bit. "I would've hated to see you make that long of a drive all of the way over here."
"Hello, Mrs. Carrera," another new voice said, and Cal Weathers suddenly pulled up beside his ailing uncle. "I'm sorry about the loss of your husband. We got along pretty good, and I've never heard him say a bad word about anybody."
Sally felt tears start up in her eyes at Cal's kind words. "Thank you," he said, smiling at him. "He would've been happy all of you came." Noticing Strip's wife, Lynda, wasn't with them, as she usually was, she turned back to Strip, suddenly feeling very afraid. "Strip, where's Lynda, honey?"
"You didn't get that letter I sent ya?" Strip asked, his grill slackening.
"No, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid not," Sally said, shaking her hood, filled with dread. "What letter are you talking about?"
"I sent you one a couple of years ago, but I guess it didn't reach ya for some reason," Strip said, aging rapidly before her very eyes, and she feared for him. "Miss. Sally, honey, Lynda died a few years back. I tried to tell ya in the letter, but it looks like ya didn't get it."
Sally burst into tears. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Strip, honey," she said, putting a comforting tire against his fender. "I didn't know." Without the age factor added in, his declining health suddenly made more sense, and took on a whole new meaning.
"That's all right, Miss. Sally," Strip said, giving her a quick kiss on the fender. "Ya didn't know. She went will peacefully, in her sleep, like ya husband did."
"Mom, the service is about to start."
Sally glanced over, seeing a much younger, black and blue car driving up to them, another car riding next to her, feeling as if she was staring into a mirror, seeing a much younger version of herself. She saw herself looking at her daughter, Kira, who had grown into a very determined, strong-willed, woman car. The car beside her was her husband, Dan. They had dated for awhile when they had first met, but had been married for several years now. She hardly ever got to see them anymore, since her daughter was always off racing, making a name for herself, and Dan usually went along with her to support her, but she had came home long enough for the funeral, which had surprised Sally. The relationship Kira had shared with her father hadn't always been perfect, and they had fought more often than not, almost coming to blows on more than one occasion. They had even left on bad terms, and Sally wished they had been able to make up before things got to where they were, but she guessed it just wasn't meant to be.
"Okay, honey, I'll be right there," Sally said, starting to take off after her daughter, but stopped when she realized Strip and Cal hadn't even began to follow them. "You two can come and sit with me if you want."
"It will be my pleasure, Miss. Sally," Strip said, and just before she turned to leave, she saw Cal pushing his uncle along, helping him move, very much like Lightning had, so very long ago.
Sally looked away from them before she started crying again.
Everybody, including Cruz and Kira, with the exception of Sally, who hadn't thought she would've been able to get through hers without breaking down, had already given their eulogies, and Mater was in the middle of his, when Buster arrived.
"Sorry, I'm late," the young mechanic said, struggling to find himself a parking spot, making his way through the mass sea of cars he had somehow found himself in the midst of. "We ran into traffic trouble, and it was kind of a long drive."
"That's okay, honey," Sally said, seeing him coming toward her. "Better later than never."
She motioned for him to park beside her, by thumping the empty spot next her with a tire. "I saved you a spot."
"Thank you," Buster said, coming to a stop beside her, gasping for breath. "I very much appreciate it."
"How did you get here, honey?" Sally asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. "If you don't mind me asking?"
"Oh, Miss. Fritter brought us," Buster said, and soon as the words were out of his mouth, Miss. Fritter was upon them, a horde of young cars trailing along behind her.
"Hello, everybody!" Miss. Fritter greeted them, her loud and booming voice echoing all over the hill. "I thought I'd bring all my kiddies along to pay my respects to Mr. Lightning McQueen."
"Wait, didn't she try to kill Dad?" a younger woman car sitting on the other side Sally asked, and Buster looked over at her, noticing her for the first time.
"Yeah, but they put that all behind them, and they got along pretty good before he..." Sally trailed off, still unable to bring herself to say the word, even then, when it was a fact.
"Wait, you're Lightning's daughter?" Buster asked, laughing, overjoyed to see st least a little bit of Lightning still lived on.
"Yes," the younger woman car said, and stared back at Buster, obviously very confused. "Mom, who is this?"
"Oh, I forgot to introduce you to Buster," Sally said, her grief, apparently forgotten, for the moment, at least, by Buster and Kira's meeting. "He was the car I told you about. The one who helped your father out of that mess he was in the other day." She turned to look at Buster. "Buster, this is my daughter, Kira." She looked from Kira back over to Buster.
"Hi, Kira," Buster said, pleased to meet the daughter of Lightning McQueen. "I didn't know Lightning McQueen had a daighter.
"What?" Kira asked, clearly scandalized. "How could you not know who I' am?" She was obviously very insulted. "I have five Piston Cups to my name!"
Sally hushed her daughter before she could go any further. "Kira, honey, don't brag like that, It's rude, and I shouldn't have to tell you that, as old as you are now."
"Sorry, Mom," Kira said, staring down at her hood in shame.
"You should be apologizing to Buster, not me," Sally said, still appalled by her daughter's behavior, but her eyes twinkling with faint amusement, a welcoming sight to see, under the circumstances.
Kira looked back up st Buster. "Sorry, Buster," she said, sheepishly.
"That's all right, none taken," Buster said, meaning it.
Needless to say, in a way, it hadn't been disappointing to meet Lightning McQueen's daughter. She was every bit as cocky and arrogant as her father had been at one time, just how he had pictured the daughter of Lightning McQueen to be, if he had known he had even had daughter, that is.
Mater cleared his throat.
"Can ah finish my speech now?" the tow truck asked, very annoyed by how the proceedings were going.
"Yes, sorry," the crowd shouted back, eager for Mater's speech to be over.
"Good," Mater said, pretending to be in deep thought. "Now, where was ah-" He stopped in midsentence, and it was as if a light bulb had went off in his scattered mind. "Ah was tellin' y'all the tale of how me and my good ol' buddy Lightning McQueen went tractor trippin' one night…"
Everybody moaned, realizing Mater had started back at the beginning of his story again, even though he had been almost to the end of it when he had left off of it before.
"Make yourself comfortable, honey," Sally said, rolling her eyes."This is going to take awhile."
Buster believed it.
Kira didn't know what to think about Buster. She had never met him before. She did remember her mother talking about him, and how she had told the story about him helping her dad. She was grateful to him for that, and was glad he had been there to help her father. Who knew what would've happened if he hadn't found him in the graveyard and been there to help get him out of there. Her mother probably would've never had found him and they wouldn't have known where he had gone off to, or worse, he would've died without them knowing what had happened to him at all. Kira didn't like to think about that possible outcome, as likely as it must've seemed to her mother at the time. He seemed like a nice guy. Maybe they would get along, she thought.
"You're father was a great racer and friend."
Kira started to moan, having heard this all her life, without having witnessing her father race at all, but stopped herself when she realized it had been the King who had spoken.
Having forgotten he had been parked beside her, she looked up at him, thinking she had seen a tear rolling down his windshield but didn't comment on it. She remembered how he had used to come to her and Cruz's races all the time, before he had gotten too sick to travel.
She really didn't recognize him. He had become old, older than what he had been when she had first met him, and he had been old even then. She couldn't imagine how old he was now.
"I never got to see my father race, you know," Kira said, ruefully. "I never got to see how great he was."
"Trust me, honey, he was great," Strip said, giving her a shaky smile. "Don't let anybody tell you any different."
Besudes everything else that was going on, Kira thought there was something off about Strip and Cal that day, something missing, but her good sense told her it would be best to ask her mother about it later.
Mater, having finally finished his speech, went back to his parking place at last, much to everybody's relief.
"You want to say something, honey?" Sally asked, turning back to Buster. "I'm sure Lightning would loved it if you did, and you would probably regret it for the rest of you life if you don't, wishing you should've said something, because I didn't, and I'm already having second thoughts."
"Oh, I wouldn't know what to say-" Buster started to protest, but Sally interrupted him by giving him a gentle shove with one of her tires, sending him to the front of the crowd.
Buster gazed at all of the faces staring back at him, some of them strange, others not. "When, I found Lightning, he wasn't in the best of shape," he said, getting a little stage fright, but continued on. "He was old, sick, and dying, but he was still the hero he was to me when I had been a young car, and I wanted to do anything I could to help him…"
The funeral of Lightning McQueen ended not long afterwards, over with almost as soon as it had begun.
Her poor mother, who had remarkably made it through the whole service without shedding a tear, didn't start crying until Mater helped them lower her father into the ground, and by then her loud, keening, heartbreaking wails could be heard all over Radiator Springs.
"Oh, Mom," Kira said, and began crying herself, but unlike her mother, she had somebody there to comfort her.
"It's be all right, honey," Dan said, kissing her on the fender, but Kira pulled away from him, not in the mood for his lame moves right at the moment.
"What's wrong?" Dan asked, looking dispointed.
"My Dad just died and you actually have the nerve to ask me that?" Kira asked, disgusted with him.
"L-Look, I'm sorry," Dan said, very flustered. "I didn't mean to upset you, all right?"
Kira sighed. "Yeah, It's fine," she said, her voice a low mutter. "I'm sorry, but I'm just not in the mood for any of your smooth tricks right now, all right?"
"Oh, all right," Dan said, giving into defeat, but not without relectuance.
All of a sudden, Kira heard Strip speak up. "She's breaking my heart," he said, quiet sobs shaking his ancient, rusty, and dented frame, apparently having not heard her and Dan's argument, or choosing to ignore it. "I know what she's going through...I've been there..."
Kira just stared at him, not knowing what else to say.
When everybody started to leave the funeral, it had started to rain.
"Well, it looks like I better be getting back home," Buster said, parked at the edge of the cemetery, in the middle of a group consisting of him, Sally, Kira and her boyfriend, Dan, as well as Strip and his nephew, Cal. "I got a long drive back."
"Yeah I know, sweetheart, but thanks for coming," Sally said, giving him a light kiss on the fender. "Lightning would've been happy if he had known you had showed up."
"I hope so," Buster said, smiling. "It was nice meeting your daughter by the way."
"I thought you would like her," Sally said, winking at Kira. "She's a bit stubborn, sometimes, but she's the best daughter a mother could ask for."
"Aw, Mom," Kira said, tearing up again, and turned back to Buster. "It was great meeting you, too, by the way." She smiled back at him. "Sorry if I was a bit of a jerk to you before."
"That's okay," Buster said, nodding his hood in understanding. "You didn't know who I was, and I didn't know who you were, so I perfectly understand why you were a little put-off by me."
"That's no excuse," Kira said, shaking her hood furiously. "I knew you helped my dad, and I should've been more respectful toward you-"
"That's fine," Buster said, turning to look at Strip and Cal this time. "I'm just glad I got to meet Lightning McQueen's daughter, and the Weathers."
"It was a pleasure meeting you, too, kid," Strip said, smiling at him. "You, know, I used to want to be a mechanic at you age, before I wanted to be a racer. Keep up the good work." He suddenly glanced anxiously up at the darkening sky. "I'm afraid Cal and I have got to be heading back though." He looked very nervous all of a sudden. "It's getting late and we got a drive long, but take care, Miss. Sally, and have a safe drive back home, Buster."
"You, too, Mr. Weathers," Buster said, watching Strip and Cal leave. "Man, I can't believe it! I got to meet the King!"
Sally chuckled. "I keep on forgetting how young you are," she said, beaming down at Buster with pride. "You act so grown up, and you've been through so much, I forget you're still a young car."
Buster felt himself getting embarrassed again.
"Thanks, Sally," he said, staring off toward the direction in which Strip and Cal had just gone. "Well, I got to be going, but it's was nice seeing you again." He looked back at Sally and smiled, and sped off after Miss. Fritter, who was already loading the other kid's into the bus, afraid he would start crying again.
"He was nice," Kira said, after Buster had left, causing a spark of jealously to flicker across Dan's grill.
"Hey-" he began to protest, but Kira cut him off with a kiss on the fender.
"Don't worry, he's too young for me," Kira said, starting off down the hill toward town, stopping about halfway down it to turn around and look at Dan. "Come on, I think we should be heading back."
"Yeah, me too," Dan said, yawning. "I'm beat." He glanced over at Sally. "Are you coming?"
Sally shook her hood. "No, I want to stay here a little longer with Lightning for a bit," she said, her sad gaze flickering back over to her husband's grave.
"Okay," Dan said, giving her a sad smile, and then took off down the hill after Kira.
Before long the two younger cars had disappeared down the hill, and Sally could no longer see them.
After Dan and Kira had left, Sally drove back to Lightning's grave, which was now covered up and no longer empty, unlike it had been earlier, before the funeral had started. "I'm going to miss you Stickers," Sally said, her vision beginning to grow blurry again from the tears spilling down her windshield and onto her hood. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you." She closed her eyes, but when she opened them again, she thought she was seeing things.
Lightning was on the other side of his own grave, nothing now but a spectral image of his own former self, smiling at her, looking alive and well, even young, beckoning her to follow him with a wave of one of his tires. When she looked to the other side of him, she saw Doc, with that kind, grandfatherly smile of his she remembered so well back on his grill.
Unable to resist the tempting urge she had to join Lightning and Doc, wherever they were, Sally drove toward them, following them into the unknown.
The End