Chapter 2: The Birth of a Team

It was a modest house that sat at the end of the dead-end street, a pale white thing with a few Fourth of July decorations adorning the front. In the driveway was a deep red and black car that appeared to have been in once crash too many. Its owner was a sixteen year old African American girl that was sitting on the porch railing. She was focused on a letter that she held fast in her hand.

"So…" She mused while folding up the paper and slipping it into the envelope. "This Tezla guy is forming a new racing team." Noticing a sleek green car pulling into her driveway, she smirked and raised her voice. "I wonder if Talia got one, she's almost as good a racer as I am."

As she spoke, a Latina got out of the vehicle, a near identical envelope held in her hands. She put on a mock scowl as she marched towards the railing.

"I am a much better racer than you are, Verity, and you and I both know it!" The girl replied in a teasing voice as Verity hopped down off the railing. Normally a comment like that would cause sparks to fly and the result of that would be an impromptu race, but right now the duo didn't have time for that. Verity elected to take the high road and not rise to the bait.

"Better racer aside, Talia, I see you got one of these letters as well." She murmured.

"Sure did." Talia nodded. "Told me to meet up at the old abandoned parking garage to meet my four teammates. Or my three teammates, I suppose, since I know you got an invitation as well. The only thing I don't get is how this Dr. Tezla got our names, or how he knows that we are any good.'

"Well, we are pretty well known for racing in Headstone Alley." Verity mused. "Thank goodness we have a few days, I busted my gearbox a couple of nights ago, so Back Alley will need some work before I can race in her again. How's TechTyte holding up?"

"She's in as good condition as the day she was built," Talia replied proudly. "I bet those jerks for older brothers of mine would be jealous of how good my vehicle is."

"Maybe, maybe not," Verity replied evenly, privately wishing that Talia wouldn't get so hung up on her brothers. It got quite annoying really, she hated them yet was always comparing herself to them, but denied liking anything about them. "I should get to work, that gearbox isn't going to fix itself. Do you want to come with me to the scrapyard so I can get a new one? I heard they pulled those two wrecked cars out of Headstone Alley, and I'm hoping I can take a part from that one."

"You mean to say, Talia can I please have a ride since my car isn't working." Her friend replied as the duo walked back towards the vehicle. "And to that, I have to wonder, why even bother asking when you know the answer's going to be yes?"


The high rise apartment building was close to Times Square, close enough that you could just see the balloons from the big parade held every Thanksgiving peeking through the buildings as they floated over the one section of the street painted green. A postman was running packages up to the separate rooms and paused before apartment 8G. Placing the small box on the floor, he knocked on the door and left.

Moments later the door opened slightly, allowing a blast of EDM to infiltrate the hallways as an arm reached out to grab the box. Having laid hold of the prize, the limb was pulled back into the room, and the door was shut a moment later.

The Japanese American girl that lived there by herself sat down at the table, happily cranking her music up a few more notches. None of the neighbors complained about the noise, however, as the girl had soundproofed the walls. The manager hadn't been adverse to her suggestion that she do that. In fact, he had practically insisted that she do it when she had shown up to procure the rental.

"Ah, Gale, you sure have fun." The girl recalled, chuckling at the memory. Yes, there were many perks as to having her own apartment at the tender age of sixteen. Her mom didn't complain about her loud music anymore, she could follow her own schedule, and best of all she knew that her mother wasn't hiding letters from her father or brother anymore. The knowledge that the woman who had given birth to Gale had been hiding half of her family from her, and the subsequent lack of trust that this revelation had caused, was the reason why Gale lived on her own, even though her mother was less than a city block away.

"Well, I guess I'd better see what this thing is." Pushing the thoughts of her mother's actions aside, Gale carefully opened the box and retrieved the folded slip of paper that was inside. It was a letter and, with a bit of curiosity lingering in her eye, the girl began to read it. When she finished moments later, she let a low whistle escape.

"Yo, guess I better start packing then." She decided before rising to her feet. "I wonder what kind of clothes I should take to Virginia, anyway."


"Terra, there's a letter for you!"

The girl in question sighed and got up out of her comfy bed. Her room was small, in reality, it was a converted closet, but she was grateful the junkyard owner - a man who insisted that everyone call him Uncle Tom - let her stay here. He had been the one to rescue her from death on a cold winter's night when she had collapsed on his property, and she had lived with him ever since.

"I'll be right there, Uncle Tom." She yelled back. The Asian American, having announced her intentions, couldn't very well go back to her math textbook, and so reluctantly put it away on the shelf above her bed. It certainly was a quaint little room that she called her own - a bed dominating the entirety of it, a series of shelves positioned above her head for the textbooks she had salvaged from closing schools, and drawers built into the frame that her mattress rested on for clothing. Yes, it was a small room, but it was her room, and for a homeless girl having her own room that didn't consist of a prison cell was a big deal.

Stepping out into the hallway, she blinked her warm brown eyes and tied back her long black hair into a ponytail. Carefully shutting the door behind her, Terra started off down the hallway, making her way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Uncle Tom was waiting for.

Thomas Blackwing was a chubby old man with a greying beard and mustache, long scraggly hair framed his face and watery blue eyes were set above a mouth that was constantly twisted into a smile. He looked almost like Santa Claus if Santa Claus was a grease monkey that is. How could he not, with a long coat and pants all tarnished with grease stains and dirt smudges, interspersed with rips and tears. Despite his somewhat disheveled appearance, however, he had rescued Terra from being bleeding out or freezing to death - whichever one would have taken her first that night - and taken her in after finding out she had no home. In return for room and board, as well as being able to use some things that were being scrapped, Terra worked in the junkyard for him; as the man was getting quite old and could no longer do as much of the manual labor the job required anymore.

"Here you go." Uncle Tom said as he handed the teenager an envelope. "And just so you know, we received those two cars that crashed in Headstone Alley a few days ago. A couple of girls already took a gearbox out of one of them, but you're free to pull out any parts of pieces you need for that car you're building. Just be sure to let Jose know when you've stripped everything out that's useful so he can melt the rest of it."

"Thanks, I'll be sure to do that," Terra replied before walking out the back door. Sure enough, two badly mangled cars were out near the melting shack, and she walked over to them while scanning the contents of her mail.

"So, a racing team, huh?" The girl murmured. "I guess I'll have to finish my car up, fast."


"Let me get this straight." The blonde woman said with a sigh. "You want me to let you drive up to Virginia to meet up with four other people that you've never met before because someone is forming a racing team and wants you to be on it?"

"Yeah, Ma." Her daughter, who was munching on a bowl of Corn Flakes, replied happily. "This Tezla dude's, like, asking us to form a racing team."

"I don't know, Aurora…" Her mother hesitated as she continued to wash the dishes. "I know that racing is something many of your cousins and friends do, but I'm getting worried about how much you seem to be doing of it. It seems that every time I turn around you've got another race lined up."

"I know that, Ma, but you've got to let me go!" The girl exclaimed, jumping up from her seat. "Please, Ma? I'm sixteen, old enough to look after myself for a weekend, and maybe this way I'll get to see Greenie again. Last I heard, he was in some racing team."

"Well…" Her mother hesitated some more, but before she could say anything else her daughter interrupted her once more.

"And I've been dying to test out Road Rage's new improvements, Besides, it sounds like everything's already paid for." Here she stopped and fell to her knees, hands clasped out in front of her as she looked at her mother with pleading eyes. "Please, Ma? I promise I'll be good and call you every night."

"Fine." The older woman finally relented, knowing that her daughter would end up going one way or another so she might as well give the teenager her blessing. Aurora's ocean blue eyes lit up and she lept to her feet with a whoop.

"Thanks Ma! I've got to go pack!" And with that the bubbly blonde raced upstairs. "Woo-hoo! Headstone Alley here I come!"

"Headstone Alley?" The mother froze, a shocked look on her face before carefully setting the plate she was washing down. "Aurora Ivy Wheeler, get back down here this instant!"


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