Summary: An alternate sequel to the World Race movie. Our favorite drivers are back, and the stakes are higher than ever! Written after I saw WR many times, but before I knew about AcceleRacers. Please enjoy, and feel free to review!
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Author's Note: Hello, all, and Happy Thanksgiving! I'm glad you were all so pleased with the previous chapter. Thanks again for your motivating responses, I always love reading them! On a sadder note, I regret to inform you that, as you can probably already see, this will be my final update for this fic. And it will most likely be a while before you see anything new from me. Don't worry, I'll still be around to read and review for all of your great stories! But who knows? I may find some new inspiration after I finally see "Ultimate Race" which comes out on dvd this Tuesday, Nov. 28. Yay! At long last! I am SO excited, I can't wait! But now I'll let you finally move on to the actual story. This last chap is a bit longer than most of the others, but I'm sure you guys won't mind ) So enjoy, and I'll see you at the Epilogue!
Chapter Thirteen
"Hey, Banjee, who do you think will be the next one out here: Vert or Markie?" Alec asked as he strolled over to his fellow racer.
"I don't know," Banjee replied absently. He was rummaging around in his car, bent on some mysterious quest. "But my guess would be Markie."
"I agree," Dan added, coming up beside Alec. "That kid's luck is bound to run out soon."
"Luck?" Alec questioned. "Why do you say that?"
Dan chuckled. "Because I know Markie, and believe me, luck is the main reason he's stayed in the race so long. 'Luck' meaning that most of us older drivers here either crashed or were forced to slow down at some point. But now that there's only three of them in there, I really don't think he'll be able to stay ahead of Vert by the time they reach the end."
"Well, whoever's going to lose in this leg, they should have been out here by now," Taro interjected, his face graver than usual. He sat beside a still-despondent Lani on the hood of his car, one arm wrapped around her shoulders in a comforting gesture. "If that track was about half an hour long, like all the others, it should've ended over fifteen minutes ago. But no one's come out yet, and I don't like it."
"Don't worry about it, Taro," Banjee called, waving away the other man's concern in his usual, carefree manner. "The tracks probably just changed a little – you know, to add something new now that they're getting so close to the end."
"I suppose," Taro said slowly, though his face showed he wasn't truly convinced. He paused, then abruptly asked, "Banjee what are you doing?"
Banjee's voice was a bit muffled coming from inside the car as he replied, "I was just looking for – Aha!" He popped up from out of his vehicle, victoriously shaking what looked like nothing more than a small plastic bag.
Dan just looked on, unimpressed. "Banjee, I'm almost afraid to ask, but what is that?"
"My bag of jellybeans!" Banjee replied, his face beaming. "I knew they were in this car somewhere."
"Jellybeans?" Lani asked suddenly, her head rising from Taro's supporting shoulder.
"Yeah," Banjee told her as he opened the bag and offered it to Dan and Alec who still stood nearby. "You want some?"
"Only if you have any black ones," Lani answered, her blue-green eyes hopeful. Black jellybeans hardly ever got eaten, and right now, she was craving them.
But her face fell when Banjee looked closely into the bag and shook his head. "No, sorry, Lani. The black ones are my favorite, too, and I think I ate 'em all back when I first opened the bag. Sorry."
"That's okay," Lani said, though clearly disappointed. "Besides," she reasoned, "they're not chocolate."
"You like the black ones, Banjee?" Dan asked in disbelief. "You really are crazy!"
"Hey, they're the best!" the Puerto Rican retorted. "Besides, Lani likes 'em, too. What about her?"
"She's pregnant," Dan argued, "she's allowed a few eccentricities."
Banjee opened his mouth to retaliate, but Alec stepped in between them. "Come on, you guys," he interrupted. "It's not that important. Let's just eat these before someone else gets here."
"Oh, now that's not a selfish attitude," Taro chided sternly, although there was the slightest hint of a smile on his features. "All the same, I still think we should have seen someone by now."
Lani reached over and gently squeezed his hand. "Honey, don't you think you're overreacting a bit? I'm sure they're all fine."
At that moment, the portal on the water's surface opened to disgorge a sleek car that the drivers recognized all too well. Dan was the first to recover from the shock.
"Kurt!" he exclaimed, hurrying forward with the others as Sling Shot drew near.
The car's top lifted open, and Kurt stepped out, quickly moving over to the other side of his vehicle.
"Kurt, what happened?" Dan pressed his friend, coming up next to him.
Kurt didn't respond right away, but the question was answered well enough when Markie took his brother's offered hand and emerged from the passengers' seat, his arm still bloody and a tender bruise already showing on his forehead.
"Markie, are you okay?" Banjee asked, his usually cheerful face drawn in evident concern.
The younger Wylde nodded slowly. "I will be."
"But what happened?" Dan questioned yet again. "And will you please say something this time!"
"He wrecked his car," Kurt replied, stating the obvious. "I'm not sure about many of the details, but I think he said one of the drones crashed him. Right, Markie?"
"Yeah," Markie confirmed. "I just nicked its car, but then it totaled mine."
"No hope of saving it?" Alec asked.
Markie shook his head. "No. But I think for my next car I'll do something bigger and tougher – something black."
Kurt laughed at that. "You go right ahead, little brother."
"I'm just glad you seem to be okay," Dan said, his face showing a mixture of lingering shock and newfound relief.
"But he still needs help!" Lani exclaimed suddenly. "Come with me," she commanded, grabbing Markie by his uninjured wrist, "I'll take care of that arm." With that, she resolutely led him back to her car where she had a first aid kit stashed away for such emergencies.
The others watched them go for a moment in total silence before Alec finally spoke up again.
"What about Vert?" he asked, equally concerned for his own best friend, who was still unaccounted for.
But Kurt quickly allayed his fears. "Vert's fine. He should be about halfway through the final track now."
"How far behind the Captain was he?" Taro voiced the question that had been secretly gnawing away at each of their minds. And much to their dismay, Kurt grimaced.
"It was pretty far," he confessed. "But Vert's a good driver, he can catch him – especially if he gets a chance to use his Nitrox."
"But there hasn't been a straightaway since the fifth track," Dan worriedly pointed out. "Where's he supposed to use it?"
"I don't know," Kurt admitted with a defeated sigh. "We can only hope that things in the last track will be different." He turned to look pointedly at Taro. "I'm sorry. I know you guys were counting on me to win this thing, but I just couldn't leave Markie."
"It's okay, Kurt," Dan soberly told his friend. "We understand." And they did.
"Yeah, don't worry about it," Banjee added, clasping Kurt on the shoulder. "Vert'll get the job done. That kid's good!"
Kurt nodded, appreciative of the encouragement. "Thanks, you guys. I'm gonna go see how Lani's doing with Markie now."
As his fellow drivers watched him leave, they also caught sight of Lani reprimanding Markie, telling him to "hold still" while she carefully fished the spare shreds of glass from his arm.
Banjee laughed. "Well, Taro," he said, "when that baby does come, at least you won't have to worry about Lani's maternal instincts."
Meanwhile, Vert looked on with a heavy heart as the futile Nitrox boost propelled him with increasing speed toward the portal. But it didn't matter. This was the final portal. None of his teammates would care how fast he had finished: the only truly important thing was that he had lost, and now they were all doomed to a slow and extremely unpleasant death in Highway 35. Only Dr. Tezla would have any idea what had happened to them, and even he would be ignorant of the details
And what could he possibly tell his friends when the portal finally dumped him back into Hot Wheels City? What good would it do to say, "Sorry, I tried my best, but I still lost"? He knew they wouldn't be too hard on him. They knew firsthand how tough this track was. But none of that could change the facts.
After what seemed like an eternity, he entered the portal and braced himself to meet the disappointment of his comrades. But it never came. Instead of the wide open expanse of the City, he found himself in yet another submerged track, just in time to see the drone Captain vanish around the first turn!
Hopelessly confused, Vert scanned his surroundings, his mind racing to comprehend what had transpired. Could it be that the race wasn't over yet? That certainly seemed to be the case – but how? He had lost in the previous track, and there had been no other drivers to be eliminated. And with that thought, he suddenly understood!
There may not have been any other human drivers to eliminate in the last round, but there had been another drone! Heart pounding with forbidden hope, Vert felt a smile creeping back onto his face. Since Kurt and Markie had both exited the race at the same time, the teams had been left uneven – one human driver against two drones.
Vert was grinning from ear to ear now. It all made sense! All the previous track had done was get rid of the extra drone, and the shortened time must have been a twist to throw the drivers off just prior to the all-important final track – this track. The race was far from over.
Praying that this track would be longer than the last, Vert hit the accelerator, and his Deora II responded beautifully. The Nitrox boost at the end of the previous track had not been a waste after all. It had brought him considerably closer to the drone Captain, so that after flawlessly executing only a few turns, Vert had caught up.
The Captain was still quite a ways ahead of him, but Vert was steadily closing in. On the Captain's part, he must have thought his lead secure, for he did not begin to drive in earnest until Vert was a mere two car lengths behind him.
Vert noticed the renewed urgency in his opponent's driving and matched it, shortening the gap even further. Soon, he was right on the drone's bumper and saw one or two opportunities when he could have passed, but still he waited.
Though they had already been in the track for over fifteen minutes, Vert secretly feared this one might also be abnormally short. But he was equally afraid that if he tried to pass too soon, the Captain might try to crash him and finish the race unopposed.
But then it slowly dawned on him: they were alone. If Vert crashed, there would be no one left to challenge the drone Captain; but likewise, if the Captain was put out of commission, Vert would win without any further hindrance. It worked both ways. And while it may not have been the fairest thing to do, there was simply too much at stake to take chances.
Eyes narrowing in determination, Vert downshifted for a brief burst of extra speed and pulled up alongside the Captain who then tried to pull in front of him and block any attempt to pass. But when the drone starting moving towards him, Vert didn't back off. Instead, he jerked his car hard to the right and slammed into the rear side of the Captain's vehicle, causing him to start skidding. The drone tried to straighten out and regain control of his car, but one more carefully placed nudge from Vert finally sent him spinning completely out of control until he ran head-on into the far side of the track wall.
Furious, the Captain let out a horrendous screech that somehow managed to be both piercing and grating at the same time – ironically very much like the harsh sound of metal scraping against metal. And despite his joy at having the remainder of the race to himself, Vert shivered, the shrill cry sending chills coursing up and down his spine.
But soon the wrecked Captain was out of sight and hearing, and Vert pulled his attention back to the race. Now entirely on his own, he deliberately slowed down, wary of any strange, last-minute curves the already-hazardous track might throw his way. And sure enough, something unexpected did occur, but it was the last thing Vert would have imagined.
He had been navigating the track alone for about ten minutes but couldn't shake off the memory of that chilling shriek. He kept imagining that he could still hear it, and every time it seemed even more realistic than before. After a while, he was almost certain he could still hear it. Perhaps this twisted track was getting to him after all. But the feeling persisted.
Finally, just as Vert felt like he was about to go crazy, his eye was caught by a flash a movement in the rearview mirror. He looked again – and froze. He wasn't crazy! There, rapidly gaining ground on him, was the Captain, the demented drone still screeching madly in his programmed lust for victory and vengeance.
Vert continued to stare at his rearview mirror in sheer terror for a few seconds before adrenaline finally kicked in, and he floored the accelerator. Why, oh, why had he slowed down? He had been so preoccupied about danger up ahead that he'd dismissed the Captain altogether. But now he was back, his car clearly damaged yet fully functional.
Vert was truly racing for his life now, driven onward by sudden fear. He had known all along that the lives of himself and his friends were hanging in the balance of this race, but the return of the Captain had lent a new sense of urgency to the life-or-death situation. Vert pushed his car to its limits, doing everything he knew to get more speed. But the Captain drew closer.
At last, they rounded a corner, and a long straightaway stretched out before them. In plain sight at the very end, was the final portal of the Underwater Race. Thrilled at the sight of the straightaway and the portal, Vert pushed the button for his Nitrox 2 booster, but nothing happened. Then he remembered: he had used it all up at the end of the previous track.
Panicking, Vert looked in his rearview mirror and saw that the Captain was still closing in on him. He could see the drone's crazed, glowing eyes drawing ever nearer, their owner bent on the young driver's destruction. The Captain shrieked again, louder than ever before, and Vert involuntarily reached up to cover his ears with his hands – a bad idea. The noise had distracted him, causing his speed to lessen. And the Captain drew closer.
They were very near the portal now, and in one last desperate effort, the Captain lurched forward. Vert cried out as he felt the drone's vehicle make contact against the rear bumper of his own car, and the back end of the Deora II began to fishtail. He winced but was powerless to stop his car as it slid sideways and was hit broadside by the Captain.
But they had reached the portal, and the drone didn't have enough time to break away from Vert and come around him. With one last bitter cry, the drone Captain literally pushed his opponent through the portal to victory.
Vert came out of the portal sideways, landed hard, and spun wildly until his car finally jerked to a halt. Heart pounding, he looked around. He was indeed back in Hot Wheels City, the wide open sky above seeming strange after being underwater for so long. But he relished it!
He got out of his car and leaned back against it for support, his nerves still recovering from the suspense of the last few minutes of the race. He was shaking slightly, and his body was drenched in a cold sweat. He turned to look back out over the water, half-expecting to see the crazed Captain emerge from the same portal at any moment. But he never came.
"Vert!"
Vert turned back to face the City and saw his fellow racers rushing toward him. Even Markie was there with his arm in a fresh bandage courtesy of Lani, though it would still require professional care when they got back.
A huge wave of relief washed over Vert, and he felt his heart return to a normal rate for the first time since Kurt had left the race. He forced himself to relax and took a deep breath as they approached.
"Vert!" Alec called for the second time. He and the others came up and crowded around Vert, anxiously awaiting the final result of the race.
"Vert, are you all right?" Dan asked, concerned. "You look like you've just seen a ghost or something."
Vert, on his part, had never been happier to see anyone in his life. Alec, Dan, Banjee, Kurt, Markie, Taro, Lani – he wanted to hug them all!
"Well?" pressed an impatient Banjee. "What happened?"
Vert managed a shaky smile. "Well," he said at last. "I won!"
Seven cars fell out of the sky into the Californian desert, and the eight drivers collectively agreed that there had never been a more welcome sight than that dry, barren land. They were home!
Clouds of dust puffed up around them as the weary racers sped toward the desert's only unusual feature: a giant building, perfectly square, and all alone in a vast sea of sand. And standing just outside the structure, waiting for them, stood two lone figures: one a tall, gray-haired man, and the other a small robot that hovered just above its master's shoulder.
"Look!" Vert exclaimed from the front of the group. "Dr. Tezla and Gig are there waiting for us."
He and the others soon reached their welcoming committee, and Dr. Tezla stepped forward, smiling broadly.
"Welcome back!" he told them. "I am very glad to see you all. Did you complete the hidden track, or shall I schedule a time for you to return?"
"No way, Doc!" Banjee exclaimed hotly. "We are never going back onto that track!"
His fellow drivers nodded vehemently in support of his statement.
"Was it that hard?" Tezla asked, looking genuinely surprised. "I thought you were up to the challenge. I can't believe you want to quit now."
"We're not quitting," Taro sternly defended them. "We finished the track for you."
Tezla frowned. "All of it? Already?"
"Yes, all of it," Kurt stated emphatically. "And it wasn't easy."
"Who won?" the doctor asked.
"Vert," Dan told him, nodding in the young surfer's direction.
Dr. Tezla raised his eyebrows. "Really? Again? Well, Vert, I guess now no one can say that you got lucky last year. But what was at the end of the track – what was the prize?"
"The prize?" Vert echoed in disbelief. "The prize was that we all got out of there alive! Otherwise, let's just say you would've been waiting here for us for a long time."
"Oh," Tezla mused, comprehending the situation at last. "I see." He was silent for a moment, then visibly shook himself back to the present. "Nevertheless, you must still be properly rewarded for your efforts. Gig will see to it that you each receive your check immediately."
Gig then spoke up. "Dr. Tezla, if I may say so, the drivers appear very tired. Perhaps we should let them rest now and address the details later."
"I agree," Kurt added. "We need to get Markie's arm taken care of."
Dr. Tezla nodded. "The medical facilities here at my headquarters will be more than sufficient. We will see to it while the others rest. Gig is correct – the details can wait."
"Good," Alec said with a yawn, "cause I'm gonna take a nap. What time is it anyway?"
"It's three o'clock in the afternoon," Dr. Tezla replied, glancing at his chronometer.
Markie's jaw dropped. "Three o'clock? That's it? It felt like we were in there for days!"
"No, I'm afraid you were only gone for a total of four hours and thirty-eight minutes," Dr. Tezla calmly informed the exhausted teen.
Banjee then blew out a long sigh. "Man, talk about a long day. Alec's right: a nap sounds great right now."
The others heartily agreed to that, but just as they were walking inside to head to their rooms, Lani softly cleared her throat.
"Um, excuse me? Sorry this is such a bad time," she said, "but can someone please go get me a hot fudge sundae? Pretty please – with whipped cream, pickles, and a cherry on top?"
Every year from that point onward, the drivers gather together in the deserts of the Southwestern United States during the summer to race and to reminisce about their past adventures. They gladly enter Highway 35 whenever the necessary Nitrox is available, but never again will they so much as approach the secret entrance to the Underwater Track.
For the chilling memories of that race and its nearly disastrous outcome still haunt the drivers, and even though they aren't sure the track will even open for a second time after being completed once before, none of them are anxious to repeat such a nerve-racking experience. And so they let it be.