He hadn't ever thought of Mariana as a daughter before, but now that he thought about it, he was like her father. He pulled her closer to his side, and nobody saw him smiling. Jack came hobbling out of Lightning's cone a few minutes later, and she was so unusually late that the others turned to look. She was hobbling quite badly now, with her wheel up in the air, and she avoided all contact between that wheel and the ground.
"What happened, Jack?" Lightning asked, slightly horrified.
"One of them," She nodded at Harry curled up on Sally's hood, "Fell asleep on my wheel last night and I didn't want to risk waking them up by moving them, so I let them be." There was no anger in her voice, so Mater knew that she wasn't mad, but he couldn't help feeling guilty all the same. "Which one's the one that answers to 'Squirt'?" She asked, looking around at the three babies.
Lightning grinned and pointed to the one on Red's roof. "That's the only one that wasn't being noisy. She fell asleep right away." Mater smiled and patted Jack apologetically. "It's all right. That's what being an older kid is all about. Taking care of the younger ones." She said, finally laying down gingerly. Mater sighed, but pulled her and Mariana closer underneath his bumper anyways. He happened to glance into the horizon, and noticed a dark, vertical cloud moving in their direction.
Thunder, who was lying at Mater's side, nuzzled Jack, then looked up at the cloud. "There's a thunderstorm coming." Jack told him, and didn't understand why he began getting fidgety. About half an hour later, he began whining.
"What's the matter?" Lightning asked, hearing him whining. Mariana didn't respond, and she watched as he just kept looking at the thundercloud creeping closer and closer. Lightning followed his gaze, and saw the big black cloud.
"Crap." He muttered, and looked down to Thunder, to try to comfort him. The only problem was that Thunder wasn't lying there anymore. He had grabbed Mariana and was loping back to Lightning's cone with Mariana swinging from his jaws.
"What's wrong with him?" Jack asked.
"He's terrified of thunderstorms." Lightning answered shortly, watching the ever-nearing cloud with a stony gaze. Jack knew better then to ask why, and began to drive back over to Lightning's cone.
Sara woke up abruptly and chirped. Red brought her down to the ground and she drove after Jack, squeaking and chirping. Harry and Paul woke up from their sister's worried noises, and followed after her.
"What's the hurry for?" Sheriff asked as he watched the line of children make their way quickly back to the safety of the cone.
"There's a thunderstorm comin', man." Fillmore drawled, seemingly not too worried.
The black cloud kept creeping closer and closer, and it reached the outskirts quickly, the skies darkening for miles around. The others were noticing the darkened skies also, and now began looking up curiously. Drop after drop of rain began falling, slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed. Thunder rumbled in a far-off cloud, and one by one, the townsfolk began pulling out of Flo's, saying about closing up their shops before the storm got too bad.
Lightning drove out of Flo's with Sally, and followed her over to the motel. She went to put the garage door down on the motel lobby, and Lightning went to find where Thunder had run off to. He went from room to room, looking in each of them. Finally, he found him squished under the couch, looking as though the world was going to end.
"Thunder, come on out, it'll be fine." Lightning tried to reason with him, but it didn't work. He heard another rumble of thunder, closer this time, and Thunder whined loudly.
Somewhere in the vicinity of Tailfin Pass, a green race car was calling out the name of his wife, searching for her desperately. He glanced up into the sky, saw the clouds, and sighed in defeat. He became oddly enraged, possibly due to the fact that his wife was nowhere to be found. His moustache twitched and quivered as he bristled against the raindrops splattering across his form, slightly peeling off the infinite stickers that plastered his body. He hated rain. Chick Hicks screamed in fury at the skies, just as a lightning bolt hit the ground some twenty feet away from him.
He didn't flinch, or even show any sign of shock that he had nearly died. Without his wife, Christine, he was already dead, his thoughts a constant repetition of Where Is She? He felt like his soul had been ripped apart, and he wanted revenge for her obvious death. He snarled, then turned on his radio to the classic rock station he had it tuned to at all times. AC/DC's 'Hell's Bells' was announced as being the next song that was going to be played after commercials.
His face contorted into something between a devilish grin and a sneer. He hated commercials. He left his radio on, and drove back towards the scrawny town he had given plenty of distance, and for good reason. The last time he had met up with some of its inhabitants, he had been beaten, then threatened to within an inch of his life. He scowled up at the sky as even more rain began to fall, and the thunder grew louder. He turned his radio up louder, and the gong-like tones of a bell began playing across the radio. Good. The commercials were over. He drove towards the depressingly little town as the electric guitar joined the bell, speeding faster than the speed limit. He didn't care.
All he wanted was to kill that stupid mutt, and the scrawny 'Beetle' of a child that he and Christine had stolen from the rubble and ashes of a former racecar and his wife. He had been the one who had tossed the match, the one who had poured the gasoline, all twenty gallons of it, into the house to start the blaze. He had made sure that he had taken the child after the firefighter trucks had seen her by the burnt bodies of her parents, crying and sobbing like her life depended on it. He had told the stupid firefighters that he and his wife would adopt the child, he had brought the child back to his home. Him, all him. Did Christine ever do anything? Besides losing the child, no. These thoughts circled around in his brain, making him snarl like some kind of wild beast. He loathed that little runt, and wasn't going to let a furball of a dog get in his way. The actual lyrics to the song started playing, and Chick's thoughts lapsed into silence.
I'm rollin' thunder, pourin' rain, I'm comin' on like a hurricane. My lightnin's flashin' across the sky, you're only young but you're gonna die. I won't take no prisoners, won't spare no lives, nobody's puttin' up a fight. I got my bell, I'm gonna take you to hell, I'm gonna get ya, Satan get ya. HELL'S BELLS, yeah, HELL'S BELLS! Ya got me ringin', HELL'S BELLS, my temperature's high, HELL'S BELLS!
The storm around Chick Hicks chose that moment to release a giant bolt of lightning, paired with a ground-shaking clap of thunder. Chick laughed at the timing, then continued on his way towards the cone where he knew the little brat would be staying. He turned his radio down, but kept it just loud enough that he could hear it over the storm.
I'll give you black sensations up and down your spine, if you're into evil you're a friend of mine. See my white light flashin' as I split the night, 'cause if good's on the left, then I'm stickin' to the right! I won't take no prisoners, won't spare no lives, nobody's puttin' up a fight! I got my bell, I'm gonna take you to hell! I'm gonna getcha, Satan getcha! HELL'S BELLS, yeah, HELL'S BELLS! You got me ringin', HELL'S BELLS! My temperature's high, HELL'S BELLS!
Chick snuck into the room by using the window. He looked around, taking in all possible escape routes. There was only the door way and the window. He muttered something softly under his breath and looked down at the large group lying in the center of the room. He gently began scooping the smaller lumps onto his hood, only to discover that they weren't lumps at all, only babies. He snorted in disgust and gently set them down again.
If one of them started crying, he's be screwed. He shut his radio off all the way, and began hunting around for the little brat. He found her, snuggled up against the mutt. He gently eased her out from beneath the dog's paw, and set her onto his hood. She never even stirred. Good. He crept out through the window again, and shut it securely. The rain woke the brat up, and just as she yawned, he shoved a rag into her mouth.
She closed her mouth promptly, and he slapped duct tape over it so she couldn't spit the rag out. She began struggling, and he held something under her bumper, she got a whiff of the drug and fainted, slumping down on his hood. He grinned maliciously, then drove out to Tailfin Pass again.
"Christine?" He called for his wife repeatedly, looking in caves and on cliffs.
"Chicky?" He heard a hoarse voice float up to him from the side of the cliff he had just passed and froze. Nobody ever called him that unless...
"Christie?" He poked his grille over the ledge, and saw what appeared to be a zombie. "Christie! What have they done to you?!" He asked in horror.
The car he was looking at wasn't his wife, but yet deep down he knew that it was. She was covered in mud and a thick layer of dirt, her windshield was horrendously cracked on the one side with a spiderweb of cracks reaching from that side to the other. Her whitewalls were flat, and they looked as if she had been chewing them ragged. Her fins were dented and starting to rust, not to mention that there were scratches, some shallow and some deep, running the length of her body.
"Chicky, don't look at me. I'm hideous." She whispered.
"It's not your fault, my dear. The cause of all our problems will soon be destroyed." He said comfortingly, and looked down at the drugged car laying on his hood with a mixture of disgust and hatred. The rain sped up until it was a downpour, and Christine winced as the rain stung her scratches. "Come, let's go find a nice cave to rest in." Chick said as he held out a tire for his wife to grab a hold of, and the two drove away, into the mountains. Thunder stirred in his bed, and turned to nuzzle Mariana, instead getting only air. His eyes still closed, he snuffled around for her. He couldn't smell her anywhere near, and his eyes opened. He didn't see her anywhere, but he did see a puddle on the floor by the closed window. That struck him as odd, and he snuffled around. Suddenly, he froze, growling softly. He knew that smell only too well.
Sorry for not updating last week you guys! :( I was busybusybusy! And this weekend I've felt like crap and had my prom, and the after-prom party that went until five in the morning, so I was busy this week too. XD Not to mention, my laptop, where I keep all my better stories, just this morning decided to be a complete jerk and not cooperate with me. :( So there won't be any good stories that are being added for a while, at least not until(or if) it gets fixed. Thought I'd let you know, just in case you're wondering why there is a sudden decrease in short stories being added. See you next weekend, Liz
