Part VII
John glanced up at the clock as he finished the last of his coffee. It was 7:30.
"Watching the clock isn't going to make Tommy get here any faster," Jessica chided gently. "At least he phoned to say that he was staying at the house. It'll take him a while to get across town."
"I know; it's just that . . ." He didn't need to voice his concerns; he could see them reflected back at him in his wife's eyes.
Suddenly, he heard a car pull up outside, and John was out of his chair in an instant. His relief at seeing Tommy's truck was marred when he saw the condition of the occupants. Bedraggled and smudged with dirt, clothes torn and worst of all Tommy helping a limping Kimberly told him that they had had a busy morning.
"Are you two all right?" he queried as he came out to help.
"We ran into some of my friends," Kim quipped somberly.
"Kim hurt her ankle . . . ." Tommy began.
"I just twisted it; it's no big deal," Kim demurred. "I've sustained worse damage than this."
"Let's get you inside, and Jessica can take a look at it," John recommended.
With a sigh, Kim ceased resisting and allowed the two to usher her into a chair. Tommy hovered nearby as his aunt went to fetch the first aid kit.
"Tommy, I'm all right," Kim assured him, giving his hand a squeeze. "Your aunt can take care of me, so why don't you go get cleaned up and changed. You're due on the track in half an hour."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, and I'll join you out there as soon as I'm cleaned up."
As he observed the pair, John shook his head. "How can you be so calm and accepting about all this?"
"It's the only way I've stayed alive," Kim said bleakly. "It's been my life for the last year."
"It's not going to be your life for much longer," Tommy vowed. He bent down to give her a kiss, and she favored him with a sad sort of smile.
"Go on," Kim ordered in a whisper. She waited until Tommy disappeared down the hall before tugging off her shoe, wincing as she did so.
"Okay, let's have a look at that ankle, and . . . good Lord!" Jessica gasped upon seeing the bloody mess that were the soles of Kimberly's feet.
"There was a lot of broken glass and sharp metal in that empty lot," Kim explained with a shrug. "There wasn't time to put my shoes on. None of the cuts are deep, but I think there might be some glass in a couple of them."
"Why didn't you say something to Tommy; you shouldn't have been walking on these!"
"I suppose I should have . . . I'm just not used to having someone else to rely on yet. Please, don't tell Tommy, though. It'll only worry him, and he doesn't need the distraction right now."
"I think he likes worrying about you," Jessica murmured, smiling. "All right. Let's clean some of these cuts . . . ."
*
This thing called love I just can't handle it
This thing called love I must get round to it
I ain't ready
Crazy little thing called loveKim found herself unable to get the tune out of her head as she emerged from the trailer; well, Tommy had warned her about his aunt's love of music. Jessica had the stereo going almost constantly.
After having her feet tended to and a nice hot shower and a nap, she felt like a new woman . . . a woman who's very much in love! To that end, she decided to take a little more care than usual in getting dressed. It had been like old times--except for the limited selection offered by her wardrobe. However, there had been a few things in those bags that she had been surprised to find . . . like the white shorts which had a three inch inseam (if that!) and the hot pink cropped halter. She shook her head, knowing exactly how they had wound up in with her selections. The next time she and Tommy went shopping, she was going to have to pay closer attention to what he was doing. Still, she had to admit that it wasn't a bad choice. The clothes were extremely flattering, and since Tommy had picked them out, she knew he'd like them on her.
As she headed to the infield, Kim felt lighthearted, almost giddy. It was all she could do to keep from skipping. The early morning attack meant that the rest of the day was hers. Normally that meant getting on the bike and hitting the road; if she kept moving, it made it harder for the Mercytes to track her down. She wasn't running any more. Angel Grove was her home. This was where she was happiest. This would be where she made her stand with Tommy at her side. There would be time enough for planning later. For now, she was going to watch Tommy's practice, catch a little sun, and maybe the two of them could spend a little more time together.
In spite of her sore feet, there was a spring in her step as she passed Tommy's truck and her motorcycle. It still struck her as funny to think that she owned a motorcycle; that was more up Tommy's alley. She ran her fingers absently across the worn seat and tapped her helmet. She noticed that the paint was chipping off, and she scraped at the black flecks revealing more of the color underneath. Admittedly, she had been impulsive in buying the helmet, but the design had spoken to her somehow. Yet, it stood out like a beacon, which was why she had taken to painting over it. Ultimately, it hadn't mattered what her helmet looked like; the Mercytes had always been able to find her. With a shrug, Kim collected her head gear and took it along.
*
"Better, much better," John murmured as he checked the stopwatch.
"Amazing what a day off can do," Eddie muttered. "Has he had any complaints about the tire?"
"None; I think you got it this time," John replied, "and I think it's more than merely having a break."
"Hey, John!"
Both men looked up at Kim's hail.
Eddie let out a low whistle of appreciation. "What's she trying to do--cause an accident?"
John simply shook his head in amazement. And she trashes killer robots?
"Think Tommy can handle her?"
"A lot better than you could." The two fell silent as Kim bounced over.
"How are you feeling, Kim?" John queried
"Lot's better. Jess said I should come down here to the pits to watch Tommy practice," Kim said.
"No problem. You'd be too exposed up in the stands," John agreed, and he heard Eddie bite back a chuckle.
"How's he doing?" Kim shaded her eyes against the glare as Tommy streaked past.
"Really well. I think he'll do fine at the time trials this weekend."
"I'm glad. I was so worried that he'd be too distracted with worrying about me and the Mercytes that he wouldn't be able to keep his mind on driving."
"To be honest, I think this is the most focused I've seen him. If you don't mind me saying so, you coming back and working things out--robots included--is the best thing to happen to him." His words made Kim blush.
"If you're going to be in the pits," Eddie interjected into the following pause, "I'd better find you a coverall."
"Any particular reason?" John teased his crew chief.
"So she'll blend in better."
John did his best not to laugh.
*
Kim was perched on a stack of tires purposefully scraping the paint off her helmet when Tommy pulled in for a break. She had donned the pair of coveralls that Eddie had scrounged for her, and her hair was tucked up into a team cap.
"Hey, Beautiful," he greeted, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her. "Where'd this come from?" He plucked at the jumpsuit. "You sure make it look good, but I think I liked what you had on when you first came down to the pits."
"I didn't know you saw me," she answered. "Eddie thought it'd be better camouflage if I dressed like everyone else here."
"Eddie probably didn't want the crew to fall all over themselves drooling over you."
"Tommy . . . ." She playfully swatted him. "We're going to have to talk about your taste in my clothing."
Tommy shrugged. "Can I help it if I know what I'd like to see you in?"
"Oh, you . . . ."
"What are you working on?"
Kim handed him her helmet. She had almost completely uncovered the vibrant pink bird done in stylized flames against a white background. "I saw no reason to keep it covered up anymore."
"It suits you," Tommy remarked, thinking of her former affiliation with the firebird. "So, when do I get to have a ride on your bike?" It had been a while since he had sold his motorcycle; he had traded it in shortly after he and Kim had first started dating. Side-by-side seating was much more convenient on dates.
"When I get to drive your race car," Kim quipped.
"Okay, hop in."
"What? You're not serious . . . ."
"Sure I am."
"Tommy, I couldn't . . . your uncle wouldn't want me driving his car!"
"You've driven machines far more sophisticated than this; you could handle it. Besides, Uncle John has headed back to the trailer. Just take it out for a couple of laps."
"Tommy . . . ." Kim protested, albeit a little more weakly. She had wondered what Tommy saw in driving a car in circles really fast. It just didn't make sense to her. "I shouldn't... what if someone on the crew sees? I don't want to get you in trouble."
"They're all busy. Besides, if you wear my helmet and I wear yours," he began, placing his head gear on her then slipping the pink firebird on himself, "nobody will know the difference."
A wry grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You don't think the fact that the person in the pink bird helmet is a foot taller than before and completely lacking a figure will go unnoticed? I'm surprised that thing fits you. Although, it is a little large on me. I didn't even care about the size when I bought it."
"Maybe I'll borrow it for luck during the time trials," Tommy teased. "So, are you going for a ride or not?"
"Will I regret this?" she sighed as she allowed him to conduct her to the car.
"You won't know until you try."
*
Kim's worries about being seen were not unfounded, simply misdirected as emotionless red orbs recorded her and Tommy's every move.
* * *
"Okay, let's get this thing parked and get busy," John said as he pulled past the entry gate to the Angel Canyon Speedway. "I'll see if I can pry Tommy out of bed."
"I'm surprised you let him sleep in," Jess remarked teasingly. "Normally, you prefer him to ride shotgun."
"He probably could use the extra couple hours after the past two and half days. Besides, it's not like we had to drive clear across the country to reach the track."
"A good thing, too, since neither one of you can navigate worth a damn."
"Don't worry, dear; you will never be out of a job when it comes to that." Giving his wife a quick kiss, John headed for the back of the RV. He quietly padded through the trailer to the "living room." It gave him a moment's pause to find Tommy and Kim snuggled together on one of the pullout beds. It wasn't like they had done anything . . . both were still dressed and on top of the covers, so they probably fell asleep watching TV or something. Still, Jan probably wouldn't be too happy if he let that continue. He wondered if he should have a talk with the boy--no, Tommy was hardly a boy. He was a grown man, one who had been a Power Ranger. If that hadn't taught him responsibility and accepting the consequences of one's actions, nothing would. He reached over to tap Tommy on the shoulder--no sense in waking Kim, too--and was caught by a well-thrown elbow. John fell back with a groan, clutching his midsection.
"All right, who . . . oh geez! Uncle John! I'm sorry," Tommy sputtered, scrambling out of bed to help him up. Kim was also at his side in an instant.
John found it amazing that for two people who had been sound asleep moments ago both Tommy and Kim were wide awake and what he'd call battle ready. "I'm okay. That'll teach me to try and tread quietly around you two."
"I'm sorry. I've gotten in the habit of punching first and asking questions later," Kim apologized. "I guess it's already rubbed off on Tommy."
"Don't worry about it, Kim. I'll know better next time. Anyway, we're at the track. We've got our pit assignment; we need to get set up and find out when you're scheduled for practice laps," John said.
"Give me a minute to get changed, and I'll be right out," Tommy answered, still looking slightly sheepish at having nailed his uncle.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Kim queried.
"We can use every hand we can get for set up," John replied. "I'll see you both in a bit."
*
After getting the car and the equipment unloaded, Kim found herself somewhat in the way, so she left the team in the pit and wandered around the infield. The stadium was full of noise as other cars were doing laps or warming up. She didn't like it; she wouldn't be able to hear the Mercytes' teleportation effect. Those split seconds were often the only advantage she had. She had been on edge all morning; the hunters would be back. It was more than just knowing their schedule; she could feel it deep inside, and this time it wasn't going to be a hit and run. This would be it: the last stand. To that end, she had dressed in her jeans and boots in spite of the heat.
"Kim!"
Tommy's voice cut through her reflections. She managed a smile for him. No sense in worrying him anymore than he already was.
"What's up?"
"I'm on the track next. I wondered if you were going to come down and watch with the rest of the crew."
"Sure."
"Is something wrong? You're so tense, and you look like you're dressed for a fight. You're expecting trouble, aren't you."
"I'm always expecting trouble."
"Which is why you're distancing yourself from the crew, isn't it?" Tommy realized. "Maybe I should tell Uncle John . . ."
"No," Kim cut him off. "Tommy, I don't want you to set your life aside because of all this nonsense. I know how much you want to drive in the Classic, and to do that, you have to drive in the practices and the time trials."
"Kim, the race won't mean anything to me if something happens to you."
For a moment neither could speak, but Kim squeezed Tommy's hand tightly.
"That means so much to me," she murmured hoarsely. "Tell you what, I'll stay by the pit. That way, if something does happen, I won't be alone, and your uncle can radio you. All right?"
"All right," he reluctantly agreed to the compromise. "Say, can I still borrow your helmet for luck?"
"Of course."
*
As Tommy maneuvered the car down pit row to the starting blocks, Kim could not keep still. She paced the pit area, unable to relax. She felt John's eyes on her.
"Is something wrong?" he queried.
"Just a feeling," she mumbled. "Would you mind if I brought my motorcycle down here?"
He couldn't imagine what she would need it for, but if it made her feel better . . . "Sure."
"Thanks."
Kim sprinted for the access tunnel under turn three as Tommy started his warm-up lap. The equipment truck was parked about halfway down the lot. Tommy's pick-up had been left in Angel Grove, but they had stowed her bike in with the race car. The back of the truck was still open, the ramp in place. For some reason, that disturbed Kim, and she approached cautiously. Nothing seemed to be out of place, and no one else was about. She entered the trailer, her gaze darting here and there. It was difficult to see in the back of the semi; she hurried over to her bike and rummaged through the side saddle until she located her flashlight. She swept the beam across the confines.
You're letting your imagination get the better of you, she chided herself as her investigation turned up nothing. Then, a glint of silver caught her eye. It lay between the tire tracks of the car in a smudge of oil. It was a band of metal--about three inches in width and a half inch thick, and seeing it caused a cold knot to tighten in the pit of her stomach.
Please, please let this be off the car!
Kim quickly jumped on her bike and headed back into the speedway.
*
"What in the world . . . !" John gasped, jumping out of the way as Kim sped into the pit area. She skidded to a halt and leaped off the bike.
"Eddie!" she shouted, searching frantically for the crew chief.
"Kim, what's wrong?" John queried, just as Eddie ambled over.
"I found this in the truck . . . it would have been under the car . . . do you recognize it?" Kim implored. Eddie turned the ring of metal over in his hands.
"I've never seen anything like this," he murmured, finding the thick band surprisingly light.
"But you have," John remarked upon seeing Kim's pale face.
"Mercyte armor," she gulped. "Get Tommy out of the car; they've done something to it!"
"Right."
Just as John tried to raise Tommy on the radio, Tommy put a call through.
"Uncle John, I've got a problem. The breaks aren't responding."
"Eddie, call up to the tower and have them get the emergency crews on stand-by. Don't mention it's sabotage," John directed, and the crew chief hurried off. To Tommy, he instructed, "Ease up off the gas and start slowing down."
"Coast to a stop. Got it."
Kim and John watched anxiously as the race car started shedding speed. As it whizzed past, Kim spotted a flash of blue light, and smoke wafted up from the tailpipe.
"Something else is wrong," she said.
"What's going on here? All of a sudden this thing is shaking like it's going to come apart," Tommy radioed.
"Take it back up to speed until the shaking stops," John ordered. To Kim he added, "I bet you anything those tin cans fixed it so that if the car drops under a certain speed, it'll blow or something."
Kim grabbed Tommy's helmet. "Then it's up to me to get him out of there. Help me set the radio so I can talk with him."
"Will you be able to match his speed?"
"We'll find out." As Kim hit the accelerator, she spoke into the mike, "Hang on, Tommy; I'm on my way."
"I'll try and hold her steady. But I'm losing control fast. Something's eating at my systems, shorting them out one at a time."
Kim bent low over the handle bars as she raced after Tommy, her mouth set in a determined line. She would get to him in time; there was no other alternative. She found herself grateful for the spin around the track she had taken yesterday. It had showed her that the track was more than simply an asphalt oval; it had its own special nuances. Tearing down the straightaway was not the same as tearing down a stretch of highway.
"How you doin'?" Kim queried.
"It's starting to get awful hot in here."
"I'm giving her all I got . . ." But both knew it wasn't going to be enough.
"I'm taking my foot off the accelerator. If I can bleed off just a little more speed . . ."
"I'll be along side you before that thing blows," Kim vowed.
"I know you will."
Kim shoved her fear down as she watched the cloud of smoke pouring out of the back of the car grow thicker. The racer was fishtailing all over the place.
"Steering's gone." Tommy reported.
It was going to make it difficult to come up beside him; it was almost as if the Mercytes were controlling the car by remote control. I wouldn't put it past them.
"I've got fire under the hood . . . ."
"Just a little bit more . . ."
"I've got a blow out . . . ."
". . . almost there . . ."
"Kim, I gotta bail out now . . . ."
Kim wasn't sure where the final burst of speed came from, but suddenly she shot alongside the wildly swerving car.
"Do it!"
Tommy was already halfway out the window. He held on for a moment longer then pushed off. Kim nearly lost control as he landed behind her; she didn't even wait for him to get settled but veered off as quickly as she could. A moment later, the car erupted into a ball of flame, debris showering them.
"That was too close," Tommy muttered, glancing back over his shoulder. "Oh man, the car...." Already the fire equipment was moving out onto the track.
"We're not out of trouble yet."
Tommy caught a glimpse of silver in the stands moments before the first shot rang out.
"We've got to get out of here before they tear the speedway apart," Tommy said.
Kim swerved away from a section of asphalt that suddenly turned into a bubbling morass.
"Ow!" Tommy winced as a beam clipped his arm.
"Tommy?"
"It's not bad . . . just singed me, that's all."
"I'm making for the main entry . . . ." However, the next shot that crossed their path took out the tire and sent the motorcycle careening out of control. They skidded towards the pits.
"Abandon ship!"
The two dove off the bike as it crashed into a gas pump; a spectacular column of flame tore into the air. They both flew threw the air for several yards before tucking and rolling to a hard stop in the grass. However, there was little time to recover. Both were on their feet and in defensive stances as their attackers materialized in the infield.
"Surrender," the command unit intoned emotionlessly.
"Go to hell!" Tommy rumbled, lashing out with a kick that did little more than glance off the nearest hunter. He was promptly grabbed by a second attacker and forcibly restrained.
"Tommy, no!" Kim shrieked as Tommy was forced at gun point to his knees. "Let him go!" Kim launched herself at the robots holding Tommy. The move caught the Mercytes by surprise.
Tommy quickly pulled free and tackled another hunter by the knees. When that assassin came crashing down, Tommy snatched up its gun. He whirled and fired at the automaton converging on Kim. He quickly worked his way to her side. He surrendered the gun, and as Kim cut a deadly swathe through the armor-plated ranks, the two attempted to get to some cover; however, they were outnumbered. A pair of Mercytes cut off their escape route. With fire at their heels, Kim tugged Tommy in a different direction. That, too, was cut off. Tommy urged her towards the opposite path and found it blocked. In short order, the two were completely surrounded and looking into the barrels of the Mercytes' arm cannons.
"No," Tommy whispered defiantly, but as the two looked at each other, they knew it was over at last.
Kim tore off her helmet and flung it at the command unit. "Why! Why are you doing this to me? What do you guys want? Who wants me dead!"
"This unit is not authorized to divulge that information. Target and the human designated as Tommy Oliver have been neutralized. Implement Program Omega 13: termination of intended target."
"I can't believe this is happening," Kim whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "There's still a chance . . . you aren't scheduled for termination. Maybe they'd let you go . . . ."
Tommy pulled off his helmet and wrapped his arms around her. "No, Kim. If they kill you, they'll have to kill me, too," Tommy said gravely, looking deep into her eyes. "Like they say during the wedding vows, ' 'til death do us part'."
" 'til death," Kim echoed, smiling bravely as their lips met in a final kiss. She poured her heart and soul into the exchange, giving to Tommy all the passion she held inside and taking the like from him. She no longer feared death. She feared nothing with Tommy at her side. Tommy pressed her more tightly to him as their tongues dueled in a primal dance. While their mouths made passionate love to each other, the two waited for oblivion.
And waited.
Finally, the need for air forced them apart, and they were astonished to discover that they were still breathing. As one, the pair looked around. Eight assassins, guns still locked on target, stood motionlessly around them. No lights flickered on the chest plate power packs, and the unblinking red eyes were dark.
"Are they . . . ?" Kim began hesitantly, scarcely daring to believe.
Tommy attempted to pull a gun from one of the androids. While he could not remove the weapon, the hunter made no move to stop him. He had Kim back out of the way as he depressed the firing mechanism. Nothing happened.
"Dead," Tommy murmured in awe. "The guns. The assassins. Everything."
"But how?"
Then, the two heard an all-too familiar hum, and five brightly colored streaks of light assumed the shapes of the Turbo Rangers.
"What's going on?" Tommy queried.
"We came to tell you that we located the time portal these things were using," the Red Ranger reported.
"It wasn't a naturally occurring time hole; someone went to a lot of expense to open it," the Blue Ranger added. "A rip like that could have caused serious damage to the space/time continuum."
"You guys closed it? Is that what turned these guys off?" Kim asked eagerly.
"According to Dimitria, the carrier signal powering the Mercytes was cut off before we closed the hole," Red continued.
"They were shut off at the source!" Tommy realized. With a jubilant shout, Tommy caught Kim under the arms and spun her around. "Do you know what this means, Kim? It's over!"
"It's over?" Kim repeated numbly, shock filling her features as she looked blankly up at Tommy. He pulled her to him tightly and nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head, giving her a soft kiss. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks.
"Yes, Beautiful. Your nightmare is finally over."