I won't bore you with too much rambling today. Just the usual, please read, enjoy, and review!
And as for the disclaimer…eh, find your favorite, cut and paste it here. Or is that plagiarism in and of itself? Hmm…uh oh…
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Speed didn't regain consciousness for nearly a day. And even when he first woke up, his eyes were wild and he was disoriented. The only things he could stammer were the names of his family members, all of which he was reassured were safe and sound. But he remained wild and anxious until they were all allowed in to the room with him. He began to calm down, and eventually, he was back to his old self…sort of. He was coherent at least, but he was terrified of something, and literally shook with fear. The only thing that everyone else didn't realize was that he wasn't afraid for himself; he was afraid for everyone else. Anarchy was capable of things that Speed couldn't even imagine.
Pops, Trixie, Sparky, and Spritle all stood around his hospital bed, none of them knowing exactly what to say. Each of them felt worthless, as they didn't understand what had frightened Speed so much, but more than that, they didn't exactly comprehend the physical reaction he had. The doctors had mentioned a panic attack, which made sense to them, except they had no idea what instigated it. Pops couldn't even look at Speed; he was just staring off in to space, occasionally glancing up and slightly smiling before looking away once more.
"Well, is anyone, uh, hungry?" Sparky said, hoping to lighten the mood slightly. But he went silent once more as everyone just looked at him as if he were insane. Actually though, his strategy worked. A moment later, Speed let out a slight laugh. Sparky would always be the comical one, even when they were all old and grey.
"I get my food direct. Don't even have to chew it." Speed said, lifting his arm to reveal a feed tube that had been inserted. Sparky and Pops both laughed, but Trixie and Spritle didn't think it was funny. Which was something that Speed actually found rather odd; Spritle laughed at all jokes pertaining to food.
"The doctors told us that you would be eating solid food again by tonight, and that you could probably leave by the end of the week." Pops said.
Speed's smile faded. "The end of the week? That long?"
"They want to make sure you're okay. They need to check on your heart, lungs, stuff like that. It's no big deal." Sparky said.
"Yes it is a big deal!" Speed yelled, but immediately regretted the tone to his voice. He didn't want to turn this in to an argument; he had put his family through enough over the last few months. And he owed them cooperation. But the end of the week…he couldn't just wait for Anarchy to make a move. He was a sitting duck in the hospital, and what was worse, he was useless to Pops, Sparky, Trixie, and Spritle while he was there.
"Call a doctor," Speed said quietly, but with an incredible amount of intensity in his voice. "I need to speak to someone."
"Why? Is your heart speeding up again? Are you not breathing okay?" Sparky said, growing concerned.
"No. I need to leave. And I have to tell them that."
No one said anything for a moment, but at last Pops said, "That's out of the question, Speed. The doctors said that you need to stay here at least until Friday."
"I can't stay here until Friday! I have to leave with you guys tonight!"
"Speed, calm down." Trixie said quietly. This was the first time she had spoken since he woke up. "You are sick, and you have to stay in a place where people can take care of you."
"But what about you? Who is going to take care of you?" Speed practically yelled. Trixie narrowed her eyes.
"What are you talking about, Speed? None of us are in any kind of danger whatsoever…"
"Yes you are!"
"Speed, calm down…"
"I will not calm down! You don't realize what is going on here!"
"I haven't realized what has been going on for months now!" Trixie jumped to her feet and started yelling, finally losing her temper. "You've been reserved, kept to yourself, and haven't said a word to any of us! And now, as if three months of silence weren't enough, you are going through this drastic change where you suddenly feel this ridiculous urge to protect us from something that isn't even here!"
Speed was silenced by her outburst. His prior feelings of guilt had crashed in on him like a river through a dam.
"I'm sorry," she said, sitting back down. "But Speed, we're not going to do this anymore. I think I speak for everyone here when I say that you owe us both an apology and one hell of an explanation."
Speed was stunned in to silence. He looked at Trixie, and then he turned to look at Sparky, who was slouching in a chair with his arms crossed and was staring right back at Speed. Pops had turned, and was no longer facing the window but was now looking at Speed as well. And when he turned to look at Spritle, who was looking back at him with innocence and love in his eyes, Speed had to bite his lower lip, which began to tremble.
"I know. I know that I've treated you all horrifically, and I accept the guilt for that. But I can explain everything to you. I finally know what is going on."
Everyone was silent for a moment, then Pops gently said, "We're listening."
Speed looked graciously up at his father. For the time being, at least, everyone was being supportive. Everyone waited around him in anticipation for his response. He took a deep breath, but suddenly found himself unsure of where exactly he should begin.
"Well, I don't really know where to start, but the first thing I need to tell you is that I'm sorry. For these past two months, I have been feeling this irrational anxiety that I haven't been able to explain, and I couldn't talk about it because I didn't know what was going on. But it prevented me from sleeping, from eating, and from just being myself. And that is why I was acting so horribly to you…and I'm sorry.
I was so afraid of something. At first I thought it was just normal post-adolescent stress…I though I was worried about getting older, or all of us breaking apart, or something along those lines. There was something about myself that I could feel was changing, and I didn't know what it was. But now I know that it has nothing to do with those things…the problem is much more tangible than that. There is someone here, out there in the city somewhere, who I knew three years ago. And I don't think that it is just coincidental that we're both in the same city at the same time."
Speed's voice drifted away, and he looked up at everyone to see what their reactions were. Sparky and Trixie looked as though they were fairly receptive to the things he was saying, and Spritle just looked confused. Pops, however, wasn't even looking at him. He had walked over to the window and was now looking at the landscape, as the sun drifted low in the sky and everything was covered with the glow of the sunset.
"Who is it? And where did you see him?" Trixie asked quietly.
"At the track. He was that man you bumped in to on your way in. The combination of seeing him, and seeing him…touch you," Speed stumbled over the words, "just surprised me so much that I couldn't stand it. I've never reacted like this before, and I still don't exactly know what happened."
"You had a panic attack, Speed." Trixie reached out and took his hand, then received a gracious squeeze from Speed. "And you still haven't told us who it was. I didn't recognize him. I'll admit he was a little odd, but I don't remember ever seeing his face. And I've been in pretty much every situation that you have." She said, half-heartedly making a joke.
Speed looked down at her, his eyes glazed over in sobriety and worry. "No, you didn't recognize him…and I'm not surprised that you didn't, since you never saw his face close up three years ago. You only saw him from a distance, and never looked into his eyes."
"Who was it, son?" Pops said quietly. He was now facing away from Speed.
"Professor Anarchy."
Everyone fell silent. Trixie's eyes widened, and Sparky covered his face with his hands. Spritle finally started to show some signs of comprehension; he had been there, and although he also had never seen Professor Anarchy close up, he had heard endless stories about him. Spritle was at an age where he was finally starting to understand how dangerous some men could be…and Anarchy was one of the men who had tainted his innocent perspective of the world.
"Professor Anarchy died, Speed. He died when his ship crashed." Pops said quietly.
"That's what I thought too…but I swear to you, I'll never forget his face, and that man at the track, that was him. He's alive, and he's here, for some reason that I don't know."
Speed thought that Pops didn't believe him, but in fact, he couldn't be further from the truth. Pops believed him with his whole heart, and he suddenly feared for the life of his son. He was desperately trying to think of ways to convince Speed that this wasn't Anarchy, that Anarchy was in fact dead, and had been dead for three years. But Pops had been there when the police told them that none of Anarchy's remains had been recovered from the wreck. He had known that the possibility had always existed that Anarchy would resurface. But he had prayed that Anarchy wouldn't cross paths with Speed again, even if he did survive the crash. He didn't want his son to get involved with this man again, because he feared that the outcome would not be as fortunate as it was the last time. Three years ago, luck was on Speed's side, but everyone's luck runs out eventually.
Speed sighed and lowered his head. Exhaustion was once again taking a hold of him, and he felt like he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. But he forced them to stay open. He swore to himself that he would not abandon his family again. His body would stay awake and alert, no matter what.
His attention soon shifted, though, as he looked down at Trixie's hand, which was still folded with his. He noticed that her arm was covered with bruises, most of which looked as though they had been caused by human violence…namely, his own. He vaguely remembered grabbing a hold of her, as he wasn't thinking about anything but keeping everyone within his eyesight. He reached out his other hand and gently stroked the bruises, silently starting to cry. He was ashamed of his tears, as he felt too old to be doing this, but he just couldn't hold them back. The bruises were just the physical manifestation of all of the pain he had caused everyone for months.
"I'm sorry…" he whispered. Trixie looked up at him with love in her eyes, and immediately brought him in to a hug. Pops turned around, and he couldn't stop himself from joining the hug. Sparky and Spritle joined as well, the five of them stood there for what felt like a lifetime, embracing each other in silence. Everyone was scared, but they knew that the important thing was that, for the moment, everyone was safe, and they were together.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The track had slowly progressed from being bustling and lively to being a dead zone. All the lights had been switched off, as everyone had trickled out of the building. The machines that had been in use all day were no longer whirring, there were no conversations taking place anywhere. There was just silence.
Racer X sat in the dark, the only person remaining at the track. Sitting alone in the dark was not something new to him; he had often practiced this ritual whenever something was bothering him. The darkness somehow gave him the illusion that the world had stopped turning, that everything had frozen in time, and was just lying in wait for him to find a solution. But most of the time, when he thought, he eventually came up with an answer; now, there was nothing.
Speed had seen something that scared him to the point where he almost had a heart attack. Racer X remembered rushing over to his side, feeling for a pulse, keeping a close eye on Speed's vital signs. Speed had never had anything like this happen before; Racer X had watched him for years, and Speed was extremely healthy. And he had never reacted to anything that severely either; he was human, and he experienced fear just like everyone else, but normally he could handle it. But something had happened that overloaded his mind.
What could frighten Speed that much?
Racer X also knew that Speed had desperately tried to keep an eye on Trixie, Pops, and Sparky right before he blacked out. In fact, he had rather violently clutched Trixie's arm, and Racer X knew that she was going to have some pretty significant bruises the next day.
So something frightened him, and he wanted to see everyone else. Was he trying to protect them, or did he just want them there with him, to protect him?
No, that wasn't right. Speed would never try and keep anyone in harm's way just so that they could protect him. So he must have been trying to protect them…but from what?
Racer X didn't know anything about what he had seen, or what had happened to Trixie, Sparky, or Pops beforehand. He had no information whatsoever. And as a relatively impatient man when it came to dangerous situations, he didn't like not knowing what was happening.
He sighed and reached up to take off his mask. He was tired, and the weather was still hot, despite the fact that it was almost midnight. It's weather like this that makes me wish I didn't have to wear a mask all the time. He thought to himself with a slight laugh. He ran his fingers through his short, dark hair and rubbed his eyes.
I'm not getting anywhere here. I need to get some more information from Speed.
Rex reached for his keys, then suddenly remembered that he had left them at his Docking Bay. He stood up, stretching out his long legs and torso which had been cramped up for too long, then began to walk over to his Bay. It was dark, but he could make out the form of his keys on the table he had been given. He stopped, picked them up, and then froze. There were footsteps echoing in the building…footsteps that weren't his own.
"Hello, Racer X. Although I don't feel that it is appropriate to call you by that name anymore…would you prefer I call you Rex, or just Mr. Racer?" a voice said from the darkness. Rex couldn't see anything, but he recognized that voice. Three years had not dulled his memory anymore than they had dulled Speed's. But he refused to let his fear show through.
"Mr. Racer is my father's name." He said. And with that, he felt a blunt blow to the back of his head, and then everything went black.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Three days after his panic attack, Speed was finally being released from the hospital. He figured to himself that they had simply run out of cardiovascular tests for him to complete, and so they decided to let the hamster out of the cage (or at least, that was what Sparky had said). He couldn't have been happier though; he was getting really tired of eating red Jell-o, and now that he knew he wasn't going to be in the race, he wanted to get home. He still didn't doubt that it had been Anarchy that he had seen at the track, but he was beginning to doubt that Anarchy was here for him. Perhaps it had been coincidence after all…Anarchy did study automobiles to a great degree. Not for very valiant purposes, but Speed decided that he would file a report with the authorities, and then forget that it ever happened. He wasn't a police officer; he was just a racer, and he really didn't want to meddle in the affairs of law enforcement.
Nevertheless, he still had all of his paranoia around the safety of his family. He was constantly asking where they were when visiting hours weren't in effect, and when they were visiting him, he insisted that they stay with him. Sparky, always the source of laughter among the group, had made cracks about how Speed couldn't protect them even if he wanted to; his body was falling apart at the seams. But Trixie and Pops were clearly getting annoyed with Speed's overprotectiveness. And in addition to that, Speed couldn't help but notice that his constant surveillance of them was only serving to frighten everyone more. Unlike Speed, none of them had any idea what Anarchy really looked like, and so they didn't know who to look out for.
But she had a smile waiting for him as he emerged from his room, dressed in his own clothes and more than ready to get out of there. He smiled down at her and draped an arm over her shoulders.
"I am so done with this place. I really hate hospitals." Speed said as they made their way to the sign-out desk.
"I'm with you on that one. There is something about the fact that the morgue is adjacent to the pediatric wing that is just wrong."
"That's sick." Speed replied, although he actually found it kind of funny, in a weird sort of way. The two walked over to the nurses station, and Speed comically drummed the countertop with his hands in order to get their attention. They looked up, and immediately started giggling when he grinned down at them. Paranoia and neuroticism had not ruined the fact that Speed had a great smile. But they quickly looked away when they saw Trixie giving them a don't-even-think-about-it look.
"Hello. You're signing out, aren't you? Uh, Mr. Racer, is that your name?" the receptionist said to them.
"Yes. Signing out," Speed said, then turned to face Trixie and mouthed the words 'Thank God'. She giggled, and elbowed him slightly.
"Okay. We just have some forms to fill out…may I have your name please?"
Speed paused for a moment. "Uh, are you serious?" Speed asked her. "I thought you knew who I was."
"I have to ask you, dear. Name?"
"Speed Racer." Speed looked down and shook his head at Trixie, who giggled once again.
"Age?"
"Twenty-one."
"Height and weight?"
"Six-foot one, 180 pounds."
"What were you in for?"
"You make it sound like prison…I had a panic attack a few days ago."
"And who was your primary doctor while you were here?"
"Um, I think his name was Dr. Weitz."
"Ah yes…and do you have medical insurance?"
"Yes, but I think I already gave you that information when I entered the hospital."
"Did you…oh, yes, I have it here. Well, I think that is everything…have a nice day, both of you."
"Thanks a lot! Bye." And with that, Speed and Trixie headed for the exit.
"The prison comment was unnecessary, Speed. Not that I disagree with you, though. And it is a bit anal that they have to *ask* you what your name is…what if you decided to lie?"
"Good question. I'll have to try that the next time I'm 'in'."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Racer X had awoken to find himself in a very dark room, only illuminated by one candle. He also immediately noticed that he was handcuffed *and* tied to a chair. That's just overkill he thought. For two days straight, he had not received a drop of water or any food at all, so he knew that he was incredibly dehydrated, but he was familiar with things like that. As a secret agent, he had been trained to cope with various kinds of torture, and so he was actually feeling better than could be expected. That's not to say that he wasn't suffering, however; his head was splitting, and he felt dizzy, tired, and nauseous. But he couldn't worry about himself, and he kept reminding himself of how important it was that he remained strong.
However, one particular moment, when he had been somewhere in between being awake and sleeping, he heard footsteps behind him. Whoever it was, he was moving slowly, yet making his presence clear, drawing every sound that he made out for a long time. This was another form of psychological torture, though, and Rex knew how to cope with it.
"I assume that you remember me, Rex?" a voice finally said.
"How could I forget." Rex had to remember his training; seem calm, relaxed, and unthreatened. He couldn't let them know that he was actually rather afraid. He had, after all, betrayed them three years ago, and had nearly shut down their entire organization.
"Good. So we can forget about formalities then." Professor Anarchy then stepped in front of Rex, his characteristic smirk plastered on his face.
"Do you know why you are here, Rex?" Anarchy asked, looking over a piece of paper that he had carried in with him.
"Of course. I'm behind on my rent."
Anarchy laughed. "They train you well at Interpol, don't they?" Racer X had to try very hard to mask his shock; he knew that Anarchy knew who he was, and that he wasn't just an automobile racer, but he didn't realize that Anarchy knew who he really worked for. But, his attempts clearly weren't good enough.
"Oh yes, I know about your position there. You carry a great deal of prestige, as a matter of fact."
Rex was silent.
"Now do you know why you're here? And be serious please; I'm an old-man, and I don't have time to play around with you."
"You're old, that's for sure."
Anarchy was losing his patience. His face turned stern, and once again he asked, "Do you know why you're here?"
"Hmm...Nope. You're going to have to inform me, I guess."
"Ah. It seems as though Interpol chooses its agents based on sheer size, as opposed to say, I don't know, mental ability? But more on that later…and you are an arrogant fool if you think that this is solely about you. Come to think of it, you always were an arrogant fool. Time marches across your face, but it doesn't march across your intelligence—or, at least, not across yours. It certainly has affected mine."
"Do you have a point, Anarchy? Or do you just like to hear yourself talk?"
Anarchy sighed, as if he were tired and stressed, but Rex knew that he loved this. He was going to drag this conversation on for as long as he could.
"Well, since you apparently can't figure out why you're here, I guess I'm just going to have to tell you."
"I guess so."
A very bright light was suddenly switched on. Rex squinted, as his eyes had known nothing but darkness for two days straight. But through the tiny slits that remained open he could see Anarchy walk in front of him. His hair was shorter, and the sickeningly green patch he had once worn had been replaced by an equally putrid yellow one, but it was still him.
"Let me answer that question by proposing another one." Anarchy had a terrible, twisted smile plastered across his face. "Why, three years ago, did you beat your brother?"
Rex had been caught off guard by that one. He knew that he shouldn't answer; that he could never say the right thing, that anything he said would be ammunition for Anarchy to use against him. But his intellect and reason couldn't win this battle; he spoke with his heart.
"To save his life." He growled, his prior control lost.
"To save his life…to save his life? But surely, there could have been something else that you could have done? You could have walked in to the room with us, and said something to stay my trigger finger. You could have said that he meant nothing, that it would suffice to lock him up with the others, that there was no point to even wasting three minutes on him."
Rex remained silent for a moment. "It wouldn't have been enough for you. You had to see some kind of harm come to him."
"But you don't know that. You never tried to find out if any of those options would have been enough. And instead, you beat unconscious a scared little boy. He must have looked at you with thousands of things in his eyes…how could you have met his eyes? I don't have any siblings, I must admit, but even I, cold-hearted and aged, could not have looked in to the eyes of a little boy who had adored me. And he did adore you. You were his brother, who had taken care of him in sickness and had played with him in health. You must have walked him to his first day of school, taught him to throw a baseball, and tucked him in at night, telling him not to be afraid, that nothing lurking in the darkness could hurt him because you would be there, watching over him. How could you look in to the eyes of that little boy?"
"But," Anarchy said after a moment, not even giving Rex time to answer, "that isn't the issue at the moment. The question that I really want to know is, do you love your family? Do you love them to the point where nothing, *nothing* could drive you to hurt them? And I mean, *really* hurt them?"
Rex's eyes narrowed. He didn't exactly know what to say to that. It was clearly some kind of riddle, but Rex knew next to nothing about Anarchy's current activities, and so he couldn't infer anything from what he had said. He thought long and hard, but his ruminations were interrupted by a prick in his neck. He hadn't noticed that another man had come in with Anarchy; the same man who years before had worn the maroon suit and had been Anarchy's right-hand man. And now he was administering some kind of shot to Rex.
Rex's vision quickly became blurry, and he felt himself drifting off to sleep as Anarchy just sat in front of him smiled.
The last things he heard were, "We'll see, won't we?"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"I don't remember bringing all of this." Sparky said as he looked around at the Racer's docking bay area.
"It always works out that way. Whenever you go on a trip, you always return with more crap than you started out with." Trixie replied. "It's a fact of life."
"Well, that's the woman's perspective on travel, anyway." Speed chimed in. Trixie gave him a look, which he smiled at. If there was one thing that Trixie hated, it was stereotypes of women.
"Come on guys, let's just get started. We've got a lot to pack up before the flight." Speed said, brushing past them.
"Whatever happened to the old maxim clean-up-your-own-messes?" Trixie grumbled.
"It died, along with the maxim of a-woman's-place-is-in-the-home. Sorry babe, but if you want gender equality, then there has got to be gender equality everywhere." Sparky said. Trixie once again grimaced.
"Thank you Gloria Steinem." Trixie said under her breath.
"Who's that?" Sparky asked.
"Forget it. Oh, Speed, where is Racer X's docking bay? I loaned him some computer print-outs yesterday, but I kind of need them back."
"Oh, he's at station four. He should be in right now; everyone else is."
"Alright. I'll be right back then."
"Do you want me to go with you, Trix?" Speed asked quickly.
Trixie turned and gave him a look. "Sorry He-Man, but you're going to have to sit this battle out. A forty-foot walk is too strenuous for you in your present condition."
"The Trixinator is right, Speed. Besides, you need to stay here and watch over everything; I need to go see Frank Lohren. He said he would help me withdraw you from the race. Paperwork and all that, you know the drill."
Speed didn't like them joking about stuff like that, but he knew that they were right. There were people everywhere, it was broad daylight, and if he strained his eyes, he could even keep both of them in sight the whole time. "Yeah yeah…get going then. And don't let her hear you calling her that; she hates that nickname."
"Does she prefer the Dominatrix? Nah…too racy. Trix are for kids, after all."
"You are a freak. You know that, right?"
"Of course, my man. But I'm a self-established freak. And you are too, you know."
"Will you get out of here?!?"
"Alright, alright…chill out."
Speed then commenced in packing everything up slowly, placing objects gingerly in brown boxes. He really felt awful for missing the race; Sparky and Pops and Trixie had gone to so much trouble to prepare him for it. But he wouldn't pass the physical inspection, and the Mach Five wasn't ready either, so it was just impossible. Of course, he had also *really* wanted to kick Duggery's ass, but then again, there would always be other races.
"So Racer…how've those nerves been? Nervous?"
Speed scowled. Speak of the devil… he thought.
"Hi Duggery." He muttered. This was going to be painful, he could see it coming. This was yet another reason why he hated showing physical weakness; people like Duggery made sure that they took full advantage of it. Speed knew he wasn't going to hear the end of this until he was at least twenty-five.
"It's too bad that you won't be in the race. I was really looking forward to some friendly competition…it's going to be too easy for me without you around. Not that it would have been hard to begin with."
"Duggery, I can't tell you how much I enjoy these little confrontations of ours, but in the interest of saving time, why don't you just get to the point?"
"I don't have a point, Racer. I'm just killing time, making conversation, you know. Trying to be friendly."
"Right. Why don't you be friendly somewhere else? I've got enough friends, thank you."
"Oh Racer, you're so cliquish. So elitist! You should really work on that you know."
Speed knew how to tell when the time was right for him to be quiet. He couldn't let Duggery get him worked up; he had too many other things to worry about. Duggery was just an annoyance, but there were really dangerous people out there that Speed had to pay attention to. So, he shut up, and got back to work.
"And anyway," Duggery continued, "I know you've got enough friends. That friendship circle that was drawn around you when you first arrived made that pretty clear. It's too bad though; some really great people waste a lot of time with you. Take Trixie, for instance."
Speed began to shove automotive parts in to various cardboard boxes. He knew that he must keep his hands occupied, due to the knowledge that if he didn't, he might just be unable to control the urge to rearrange some of Duggery's teeth. And in his mind, he literally started counting sheep in order to calm himself down…they were the most docile thing he could think of, the most innocuous…and the most unlike Duggery.
"Trixie's a smart girl, or I should say, young woman. Great at school, friendly, and she's got one hell of a smile. Not a bad body either…bit flat-chested for me, but hey, I guess all you need is a handful, right Racer?"
See the sheep…all the pretty sheep…there's one sheep, two sheep, three sheep…
"She hangs around you too much though. Waste of her time. She should be with her girlfriends more, doing girly things, and enjoying life. Not to mention studying; I hear she's got great potential in the academic world. But she'll never get anywhere if she keeps hanging around you."
Sheep are soft and cuddly…they are covered with wool…wool is excellent material for making sweaters…
"Actually though, that's the least of her worries around you. You waste her time, her intelligence, and not to mention, her life. You guys have gotten in to some pretty nasty predicaments, all of which have been either caused by or exacerbated by you, and while you've always managed to come out alive before, one of these days someone is going to get hurt. I just hope you don't wind up killing her as a result of your own selfishness."
Screw the sheep
Speed launched himself at Duggery, and unleashed his rage. Duggery had been annoying before, but he had gone too far, and Speed was too mentally stressed to keep his anger under control. Normally, he was pretty responsible when it came to fighting…well, sometimes anyway…okay, occasionally…but Duggery deserved all of this. What he had said was simply cruel. However, what Speed didn't want to admit was his fear that Duggery might be right. He had always thought that he put his family in danger, but he never actually said it out loud to himself. And here Duggery had seen everything that Speed subconsciously felt.
The fight was pretty one-sided; Duggery talked big, but he couldn't compare with Speed, who was a far superior fighter. Duggery threw the occasional punch, but mostly he just tried to defend himself. Thankfully for him though, the fight didn't last long, as Sparky along with several other miscellaneous men who had been standing around ripped to two of them apart. Speed was screaming curses at Duggery, who yelled some right back. Speed was silenced however when Pops arrived on the scene. He violently shook the other men's arms off of him, saying that he was fine and that he had done what he had meant to do (referring to the bloody gash across Duggery's forehead).
"That's right, Racer, cower when Daddy comes along!" Duggery yelled, being pulled away by several people.
"Shut up, and think before you open that hole of yours again!" Speed yelled in response. "You're lucky I didn't feel like doing any permanent damage."
Pops surprisingly actually didn't look that mad. Oh he was angry, most definitely, but he had actually heard everything that Duggery had said to Speed. Speed had remained calm for a lot longer than he would have if he were in his situation…but he decided not to mention that.
"Are you finished now?" Pops growled at him. Speed looked down at his hands, both of which were bloody and had lots of cuts on them. He nodded.
"Then let's just get back to work, shall we?"
Speed nodded again, and silently wrapped one of his hands in a white towel that had been lying around. He then started to pick things up again, but noticed out of the corner of his eye that Trixie was standing about ten feet away from him, looking incredibly pale and frightened. He could only assume that she had been horrified at the sight of the fight.
But before he said anything, she had opened her mouth and whispered, "There's blood."
"Oh…don't worry about it Trix…I came out a lot better than he did, I'll tell you that much."
"That's not what I meant. I meant there's blood in Racer X's Docking Bay. And he's not there."
Speed stared at her incredulously, and Pops and Sparky looked up from what they were doing in surprise.
"And I talked to the Super in charge of competitor access to the area…he said that Racer X never checked out on Monday night. He checked in, but didn't check out. And no one has seen him since."
"What about the blood? You said there was blood in his Docking Bay?" Pops asked anxiously.
"The Super said no one had noticed it. It was pretty hidden; there were loads of books and papers stacked over it, as if someone had deliberately tried to hide it. I was the first one to see it, since I was digging around in the papers for my print-outs."
Speed felt as though his legs would give out from underneath him. Trixie's words echoed in his mind…Racer X was missing, he had obviously been injured, and someone had tried to hide the evidence…
It's starting
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Whew! That was a little on the long side. Oh well…them's the breaks.
Please review…if you do I'll love you forever and ever and ever (or, at least, until I clean out my mailbox…kidding! I never erase my reviews). jvalen1@towson.edu
And as for the disclaimer…eh, find your favorite, cut and paste it here. Or is that plagiarism in and of itself? Hmm…uh oh…
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Speed didn't regain consciousness for nearly a day. And even when he first woke up, his eyes were wild and he was disoriented. The only things he could stammer were the names of his family members, all of which he was reassured were safe and sound. But he remained wild and anxious until they were all allowed in to the room with him. He began to calm down, and eventually, he was back to his old self…sort of. He was coherent at least, but he was terrified of something, and literally shook with fear. The only thing that everyone else didn't realize was that he wasn't afraid for himself; he was afraid for everyone else. Anarchy was capable of things that Speed couldn't even imagine.
Pops, Trixie, Sparky, and Spritle all stood around his hospital bed, none of them knowing exactly what to say. Each of them felt worthless, as they didn't understand what had frightened Speed so much, but more than that, they didn't exactly comprehend the physical reaction he had. The doctors had mentioned a panic attack, which made sense to them, except they had no idea what instigated it. Pops couldn't even look at Speed; he was just staring off in to space, occasionally glancing up and slightly smiling before looking away once more.
"Well, is anyone, uh, hungry?" Sparky said, hoping to lighten the mood slightly. But he went silent once more as everyone just looked at him as if he were insane. Actually though, his strategy worked. A moment later, Speed let out a slight laugh. Sparky would always be the comical one, even when they were all old and grey.
"I get my food direct. Don't even have to chew it." Speed said, lifting his arm to reveal a feed tube that had been inserted. Sparky and Pops both laughed, but Trixie and Spritle didn't think it was funny. Which was something that Speed actually found rather odd; Spritle laughed at all jokes pertaining to food.
"The doctors told us that you would be eating solid food again by tonight, and that you could probably leave by the end of the week." Pops said.
Speed's smile faded. "The end of the week? That long?"
"They want to make sure you're okay. They need to check on your heart, lungs, stuff like that. It's no big deal." Sparky said.
"Yes it is a big deal!" Speed yelled, but immediately regretted the tone to his voice. He didn't want to turn this in to an argument; he had put his family through enough over the last few months. And he owed them cooperation. But the end of the week…he couldn't just wait for Anarchy to make a move. He was a sitting duck in the hospital, and what was worse, he was useless to Pops, Sparky, Trixie, and Spritle while he was there.
"Call a doctor," Speed said quietly, but with an incredible amount of intensity in his voice. "I need to speak to someone."
"Why? Is your heart speeding up again? Are you not breathing okay?" Sparky said, growing concerned.
"No. I need to leave. And I have to tell them that."
No one said anything for a moment, but at last Pops said, "That's out of the question, Speed. The doctors said that you need to stay here at least until Friday."
"I can't stay here until Friday! I have to leave with you guys tonight!"
"Speed, calm down." Trixie said quietly. This was the first time she had spoken since he woke up. "You are sick, and you have to stay in a place where people can take care of you."
"But what about you? Who is going to take care of you?" Speed practically yelled. Trixie narrowed her eyes.
"What are you talking about, Speed? None of us are in any kind of danger whatsoever…"
"Yes you are!"
"Speed, calm down…"
"I will not calm down! You don't realize what is going on here!"
"I haven't realized what has been going on for months now!" Trixie jumped to her feet and started yelling, finally losing her temper. "You've been reserved, kept to yourself, and haven't said a word to any of us! And now, as if three months of silence weren't enough, you are going through this drastic change where you suddenly feel this ridiculous urge to protect us from something that isn't even here!"
Speed was silenced by her outburst. His prior feelings of guilt had crashed in on him like a river through a dam.
"I'm sorry," she said, sitting back down. "But Speed, we're not going to do this anymore. I think I speak for everyone here when I say that you owe us both an apology and one hell of an explanation."
Speed was stunned in to silence. He looked at Trixie, and then he turned to look at Sparky, who was slouching in a chair with his arms crossed and was staring right back at Speed. Pops had turned, and was no longer facing the window but was now looking at Speed as well. And when he turned to look at Spritle, who was looking back at him with innocence and love in his eyes, Speed had to bite his lower lip, which began to tremble.
"I know. I know that I've treated you all horrifically, and I accept the guilt for that. But I can explain everything to you. I finally know what is going on."
Everyone was silent for a moment, then Pops gently said, "We're listening."
Speed looked graciously up at his father. For the time being, at least, everyone was being supportive. Everyone waited around him in anticipation for his response. He took a deep breath, but suddenly found himself unsure of where exactly he should begin.
"Well, I don't really know where to start, but the first thing I need to tell you is that I'm sorry. For these past two months, I have been feeling this irrational anxiety that I haven't been able to explain, and I couldn't talk about it because I didn't know what was going on. But it prevented me from sleeping, from eating, and from just being myself. And that is why I was acting so horribly to you…and I'm sorry.
I was so afraid of something. At first I thought it was just normal post-adolescent stress…I though I was worried about getting older, or all of us breaking apart, or something along those lines. There was something about myself that I could feel was changing, and I didn't know what it was. But now I know that it has nothing to do with those things…the problem is much more tangible than that. There is someone here, out there in the city somewhere, who I knew three years ago. And I don't think that it is just coincidental that we're both in the same city at the same time."
Speed's voice drifted away, and he looked up at everyone to see what their reactions were. Sparky and Trixie looked as though they were fairly receptive to the things he was saying, and Spritle just looked confused. Pops, however, wasn't even looking at him. He had walked over to the window and was now looking at the landscape, as the sun drifted low in the sky and everything was covered with the glow of the sunset.
"Who is it? And where did you see him?" Trixie asked quietly.
"At the track. He was that man you bumped in to on your way in. The combination of seeing him, and seeing him…touch you," Speed stumbled over the words, "just surprised me so much that I couldn't stand it. I've never reacted like this before, and I still don't exactly know what happened."
"You had a panic attack, Speed." Trixie reached out and took his hand, then received a gracious squeeze from Speed. "And you still haven't told us who it was. I didn't recognize him. I'll admit he was a little odd, but I don't remember ever seeing his face. And I've been in pretty much every situation that you have." She said, half-heartedly making a joke.
Speed looked down at her, his eyes glazed over in sobriety and worry. "No, you didn't recognize him…and I'm not surprised that you didn't, since you never saw his face close up three years ago. You only saw him from a distance, and never looked into his eyes."
"Who was it, son?" Pops said quietly. He was now facing away from Speed.
"Professor Anarchy."
Everyone fell silent. Trixie's eyes widened, and Sparky covered his face with his hands. Spritle finally started to show some signs of comprehension; he had been there, and although he also had never seen Professor Anarchy close up, he had heard endless stories about him. Spritle was at an age where he was finally starting to understand how dangerous some men could be…and Anarchy was one of the men who had tainted his innocent perspective of the world.
"Professor Anarchy died, Speed. He died when his ship crashed." Pops said quietly.
"That's what I thought too…but I swear to you, I'll never forget his face, and that man at the track, that was him. He's alive, and he's here, for some reason that I don't know."
Speed thought that Pops didn't believe him, but in fact, he couldn't be further from the truth. Pops believed him with his whole heart, and he suddenly feared for the life of his son. He was desperately trying to think of ways to convince Speed that this wasn't Anarchy, that Anarchy was in fact dead, and had been dead for three years. But Pops had been there when the police told them that none of Anarchy's remains had been recovered from the wreck. He had known that the possibility had always existed that Anarchy would resurface. But he had prayed that Anarchy wouldn't cross paths with Speed again, even if he did survive the crash. He didn't want his son to get involved with this man again, because he feared that the outcome would not be as fortunate as it was the last time. Three years ago, luck was on Speed's side, but everyone's luck runs out eventually.
Speed sighed and lowered his head. Exhaustion was once again taking a hold of him, and he felt like he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. But he forced them to stay open. He swore to himself that he would not abandon his family again. His body would stay awake and alert, no matter what.
His attention soon shifted, though, as he looked down at Trixie's hand, which was still folded with his. He noticed that her arm was covered with bruises, most of which looked as though they had been caused by human violence…namely, his own. He vaguely remembered grabbing a hold of her, as he wasn't thinking about anything but keeping everyone within his eyesight. He reached out his other hand and gently stroked the bruises, silently starting to cry. He was ashamed of his tears, as he felt too old to be doing this, but he just couldn't hold them back. The bruises were just the physical manifestation of all of the pain he had caused everyone for months.
"I'm sorry…" he whispered. Trixie looked up at him with love in her eyes, and immediately brought him in to a hug. Pops turned around, and he couldn't stop himself from joining the hug. Sparky and Spritle joined as well, the five of them stood there for what felt like a lifetime, embracing each other in silence. Everyone was scared, but they knew that the important thing was that, for the moment, everyone was safe, and they were together.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The track had slowly progressed from being bustling and lively to being a dead zone. All the lights had been switched off, as everyone had trickled out of the building. The machines that had been in use all day were no longer whirring, there were no conversations taking place anywhere. There was just silence.
Racer X sat in the dark, the only person remaining at the track. Sitting alone in the dark was not something new to him; he had often practiced this ritual whenever something was bothering him. The darkness somehow gave him the illusion that the world had stopped turning, that everything had frozen in time, and was just lying in wait for him to find a solution. But most of the time, when he thought, he eventually came up with an answer; now, there was nothing.
Speed had seen something that scared him to the point where he almost had a heart attack. Racer X remembered rushing over to his side, feeling for a pulse, keeping a close eye on Speed's vital signs. Speed had never had anything like this happen before; Racer X had watched him for years, and Speed was extremely healthy. And he had never reacted to anything that severely either; he was human, and he experienced fear just like everyone else, but normally he could handle it. But something had happened that overloaded his mind.
What could frighten Speed that much?
Racer X also knew that Speed had desperately tried to keep an eye on Trixie, Pops, and Sparky right before he blacked out. In fact, he had rather violently clutched Trixie's arm, and Racer X knew that she was going to have some pretty significant bruises the next day.
So something frightened him, and he wanted to see everyone else. Was he trying to protect them, or did he just want them there with him, to protect him?
No, that wasn't right. Speed would never try and keep anyone in harm's way just so that they could protect him. So he must have been trying to protect them…but from what?
Racer X didn't know anything about what he had seen, or what had happened to Trixie, Sparky, or Pops beforehand. He had no information whatsoever. And as a relatively impatient man when it came to dangerous situations, he didn't like not knowing what was happening.
He sighed and reached up to take off his mask. He was tired, and the weather was still hot, despite the fact that it was almost midnight. It's weather like this that makes me wish I didn't have to wear a mask all the time. He thought to himself with a slight laugh. He ran his fingers through his short, dark hair and rubbed his eyes.
I'm not getting anywhere here. I need to get some more information from Speed.
Rex reached for his keys, then suddenly remembered that he had left them at his Docking Bay. He stood up, stretching out his long legs and torso which had been cramped up for too long, then began to walk over to his Bay. It was dark, but he could make out the form of his keys on the table he had been given. He stopped, picked them up, and then froze. There were footsteps echoing in the building…footsteps that weren't his own.
"Hello, Racer X. Although I don't feel that it is appropriate to call you by that name anymore…would you prefer I call you Rex, or just Mr. Racer?" a voice said from the darkness. Rex couldn't see anything, but he recognized that voice. Three years had not dulled his memory anymore than they had dulled Speed's. But he refused to let his fear show through.
"Mr. Racer is my father's name." He said. And with that, he felt a blunt blow to the back of his head, and then everything went black.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Three days after his panic attack, Speed was finally being released from the hospital. He figured to himself that they had simply run out of cardiovascular tests for him to complete, and so they decided to let the hamster out of the cage (or at least, that was what Sparky had said). He couldn't have been happier though; he was getting really tired of eating red Jell-o, and now that he knew he wasn't going to be in the race, he wanted to get home. He still didn't doubt that it had been Anarchy that he had seen at the track, but he was beginning to doubt that Anarchy was here for him. Perhaps it had been coincidence after all…Anarchy did study automobiles to a great degree. Not for very valiant purposes, but Speed decided that he would file a report with the authorities, and then forget that it ever happened. He wasn't a police officer; he was just a racer, and he really didn't want to meddle in the affairs of law enforcement.
Nevertheless, he still had all of his paranoia around the safety of his family. He was constantly asking where they were when visiting hours weren't in effect, and when they were visiting him, he insisted that they stay with him. Sparky, always the source of laughter among the group, had made cracks about how Speed couldn't protect them even if he wanted to; his body was falling apart at the seams. But Trixie and Pops were clearly getting annoyed with Speed's overprotectiveness. And in addition to that, Speed couldn't help but notice that his constant surveillance of them was only serving to frighten everyone more. Unlike Speed, none of them had any idea what Anarchy really looked like, and so they didn't know who to look out for.
But she had a smile waiting for him as he emerged from his room, dressed in his own clothes and more than ready to get out of there. He smiled down at her and draped an arm over her shoulders.
"I am so done with this place. I really hate hospitals." Speed said as they made their way to the sign-out desk.
"I'm with you on that one. There is something about the fact that the morgue is adjacent to the pediatric wing that is just wrong."
"That's sick." Speed replied, although he actually found it kind of funny, in a weird sort of way. The two walked over to the nurses station, and Speed comically drummed the countertop with his hands in order to get their attention. They looked up, and immediately started giggling when he grinned down at them. Paranoia and neuroticism had not ruined the fact that Speed had a great smile. But they quickly looked away when they saw Trixie giving them a don't-even-think-about-it look.
"Hello. You're signing out, aren't you? Uh, Mr. Racer, is that your name?" the receptionist said to them.
"Yes. Signing out," Speed said, then turned to face Trixie and mouthed the words 'Thank God'. She giggled, and elbowed him slightly.
"Okay. We just have some forms to fill out…may I have your name please?"
Speed paused for a moment. "Uh, are you serious?" Speed asked her. "I thought you knew who I was."
"I have to ask you, dear. Name?"
"Speed Racer." Speed looked down and shook his head at Trixie, who giggled once again.
"Age?"
"Twenty-one."
"Height and weight?"
"Six-foot one, 180 pounds."
"What were you in for?"
"You make it sound like prison…I had a panic attack a few days ago."
"And who was your primary doctor while you were here?"
"Um, I think his name was Dr. Weitz."
"Ah yes…and do you have medical insurance?"
"Yes, but I think I already gave you that information when I entered the hospital."
"Did you…oh, yes, I have it here. Well, I think that is everything…have a nice day, both of you."
"Thanks a lot! Bye." And with that, Speed and Trixie headed for the exit.
"The prison comment was unnecessary, Speed. Not that I disagree with you, though. And it is a bit anal that they have to *ask* you what your name is…what if you decided to lie?"
"Good question. I'll have to try that the next time I'm 'in'."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Racer X had awoken to find himself in a very dark room, only illuminated by one candle. He also immediately noticed that he was handcuffed *and* tied to a chair. That's just overkill he thought. For two days straight, he had not received a drop of water or any food at all, so he knew that he was incredibly dehydrated, but he was familiar with things like that. As a secret agent, he had been trained to cope with various kinds of torture, and so he was actually feeling better than could be expected. That's not to say that he wasn't suffering, however; his head was splitting, and he felt dizzy, tired, and nauseous. But he couldn't worry about himself, and he kept reminding himself of how important it was that he remained strong.
However, one particular moment, when he had been somewhere in between being awake and sleeping, he heard footsteps behind him. Whoever it was, he was moving slowly, yet making his presence clear, drawing every sound that he made out for a long time. This was another form of psychological torture, though, and Rex knew how to cope with it.
"I assume that you remember me, Rex?" a voice finally said.
"How could I forget." Rex had to remember his training; seem calm, relaxed, and unthreatened. He couldn't let them know that he was actually rather afraid. He had, after all, betrayed them three years ago, and had nearly shut down their entire organization.
"Good. So we can forget about formalities then." Professor Anarchy then stepped in front of Rex, his characteristic smirk plastered on his face.
"Do you know why you are here, Rex?" Anarchy asked, looking over a piece of paper that he had carried in with him.
"Of course. I'm behind on my rent."
Anarchy laughed. "They train you well at Interpol, don't they?" Racer X had to try very hard to mask his shock; he knew that Anarchy knew who he was, and that he wasn't just an automobile racer, but he didn't realize that Anarchy knew who he really worked for. But, his attempts clearly weren't good enough.
"Oh yes, I know about your position there. You carry a great deal of prestige, as a matter of fact."
Rex was silent.
"Now do you know why you're here? And be serious please; I'm an old-man, and I don't have time to play around with you."
"You're old, that's for sure."
Anarchy was losing his patience. His face turned stern, and once again he asked, "Do you know why you're here?"
"Hmm...Nope. You're going to have to inform me, I guess."
"Ah. It seems as though Interpol chooses its agents based on sheer size, as opposed to say, I don't know, mental ability? But more on that later…and you are an arrogant fool if you think that this is solely about you. Come to think of it, you always were an arrogant fool. Time marches across your face, but it doesn't march across your intelligence—or, at least, not across yours. It certainly has affected mine."
"Do you have a point, Anarchy? Or do you just like to hear yourself talk?"
Anarchy sighed, as if he were tired and stressed, but Rex knew that he loved this. He was going to drag this conversation on for as long as he could.
"Well, since you apparently can't figure out why you're here, I guess I'm just going to have to tell you."
"I guess so."
A very bright light was suddenly switched on. Rex squinted, as his eyes had known nothing but darkness for two days straight. But through the tiny slits that remained open he could see Anarchy walk in front of him. His hair was shorter, and the sickeningly green patch he had once worn had been replaced by an equally putrid yellow one, but it was still him.
"Let me answer that question by proposing another one." Anarchy had a terrible, twisted smile plastered across his face. "Why, three years ago, did you beat your brother?"
Rex had been caught off guard by that one. He knew that he shouldn't answer; that he could never say the right thing, that anything he said would be ammunition for Anarchy to use against him. But his intellect and reason couldn't win this battle; he spoke with his heart.
"To save his life." He growled, his prior control lost.
"To save his life…to save his life? But surely, there could have been something else that you could have done? You could have walked in to the room with us, and said something to stay my trigger finger. You could have said that he meant nothing, that it would suffice to lock him up with the others, that there was no point to even wasting three minutes on him."
Rex remained silent for a moment. "It wouldn't have been enough for you. You had to see some kind of harm come to him."
"But you don't know that. You never tried to find out if any of those options would have been enough. And instead, you beat unconscious a scared little boy. He must have looked at you with thousands of things in his eyes…how could you have met his eyes? I don't have any siblings, I must admit, but even I, cold-hearted and aged, could not have looked in to the eyes of a little boy who had adored me. And he did adore you. You were his brother, who had taken care of him in sickness and had played with him in health. You must have walked him to his first day of school, taught him to throw a baseball, and tucked him in at night, telling him not to be afraid, that nothing lurking in the darkness could hurt him because you would be there, watching over him. How could you look in to the eyes of that little boy?"
"But," Anarchy said after a moment, not even giving Rex time to answer, "that isn't the issue at the moment. The question that I really want to know is, do you love your family? Do you love them to the point where nothing, *nothing* could drive you to hurt them? And I mean, *really* hurt them?"
Rex's eyes narrowed. He didn't exactly know what to say to that. It was clearly some kind of riddle, but Rex knew next to nothing about Anarchy's current activities, and so he couldn't infer anything from what he had said. He thought long and hard, but his ruminations were interrupted by a prick in his neck. He hadn't noticed that another man had come in with Anarchy; the same man who years before had worn the maroon suit and had been Anarchy's right-hand man. And now he was administering some kind of shot to Rex.
Rex's vision quickly became blurry, and he felt himself drifting off to sleep as Anarchy just sat in front of him smiled.
The last things he heard were, "We'll see, won't we?"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"I don't remember bringing all of this." Sparky said as he looked around at the Racer's docking bay area.
"It always works out that way. Whenever you go on a trip, you always return with more crap than you started out with." Trixie replied. "It's a fact of life."
"Well, that's the woman's perspective on travel, anyway." Speed chimed in. Trixie gave him a look, which he smiled at. If there was one thing that Trixie hated, it was stereotypes of women.
"Come on guys, let's just get started. We've got a lot to pack up before the flight." Speed said, brushing past them.
"Whatever happened to the old maxim clean-up-your-own-messes?" Trixie grumbled.
"It died, along with the maxim of a-woman's-place-is-in-the-home. Sorry babe, but if you want gender equality, then there has got to be gender equality everywhere." Sparky said. Trixie once again grimaced.
"Thank you Gloria Steinem." Trixie said under her breath.
"Who's that?" Sparky asked.
"Forget it. Oh, Speed, where is Racer X's docking bay? I loaned him some computer print-outs yesterday, but I kind of need them back."
"Oh, he's at station four. He should be in right now; everyone else is."
"Alright. I'll be right back then."
"Do you want me to go with you, Trix?" Speed asked quickly.
Trixie turned and gave him a look. "Sorry He-Man, but you're going to have to sit this battle out. A forty-foot walk is too strenuous for you in your present condition."
"The Trixinator is right, Speed. Besides, you need to stay here and watch over everything; I need to go see Frank Lohren. He said he would help me withdraw you from the race. Paperwork and all that, you know the drill."
Speed didn't like them joking about stuff like that, but he knew that they were right. There were people everywhere, it was broad daylight, and if he strained his eyes, he could even keep both of them in sight the whole time. "Yeah yeah…get going then. And don't let her hear you calling her that; she hates that nickname."
"Does she prefer the Dominatrix? Nah…too racy. Trix are for kids, after all."
"You are a freak. You know that, right?"
"Of course, my man. But I'm a self-established freak. And you are too, you know."
"Will you get out of here?!?"
"Alright, alright…chill out."
Speed then commenced in packing everything up slowly, placing objects gingerly in brown boxes. He really felt awful for missing the race; Sparky and Pops and Trixie had gone to so much trouble to prepare him for it. But he wouldn't pass the physical inspection, and the Mach Five wasn't ready either, so it was just impossible. Of course, he had also *really* wanted to kick Duggery's ass, but then again, there would always be other races.
"So Racer…how've those nerves been? Nervous?"
Speed scowled. Speak of the devil… he thought.
"Hi Duggery." He muttered. This was going to be painful, he could see it coming. This was yet another reason why he hated showing physical weakness; people like Duggery made sure that they took full advantage of it. Speed knew he wasn't going to hear the end of this until he was at least twenty-five.
"It's too bad that you won't be in the race. I was really looking forward to some friendly competition…it's going to be too easy for me without you around. Not that it would have been hard to begin with."
"Duggery, I can't tell you how much I enjoy these little confrontations of ours, but in the interest of saving time, why don't you just get to the point?"
"I don't have a point, Racer. I'm just killing time, making conversation, you know. Trying to be friendly."
"Right. Why don't you be friendly somewhere else? I've got enough friends, thank you."
"Oh Racer, you're so cliquish. So elitist! You should really work on that you know."
Speed knew how to tell when the time was right for him to be quiet. He couldn't let Duggery get him worked up; he had too many other things to worry about. Duggery was just an annoyance, but there were really dangerous people out there that Speed had to pay attention to. So, he shut up, and got back to work.
"And anyway," Duggery continued, "I know you've got enough friends. That friendship circle that was drawn around you when you first arrived made that pretty clear. It's too bad though; some really great people waste a lot of time with you. Take Trixie, for instance."
Speed began to shove automotive parts in to various cardboard boxes. He knew that he must keep his hands occupied, due to the knowledge that if he didn't, he might just be unable to control the urge to rearrange some of Duggery's teeth. And in his mind, he literally started counting sheep in order to calm himself down…they were the most docile thing he could think of, the most innocuous…and the most unlike Duggery.
"Trixie's a smart girl, or I should say, young woman. Great at school, friendly, and she's got one hell of a smile. Not a bad body either…bit flat-chested for me, but hey, I guess all you need is a handful, right Racer?"
See the sheep…all the pretty sheep…there's one sheep, two sheep, three sheep…
"She hangs around you too much though. Waste of her time. She should be with her girlfriends more, doing girly things, and enjoying life. Not to mention studying; I hear she's got great potential in the academic world. But she'll never get anywhere if she keeps hanging around you."
Sheep are soft and cuddly…they are covered with wool…wool is excellent material for making sweaters…
"Actually though, that's the least of her worries around you. You waste her time, her intelligence, and not to mention, her life. You guys have gotten in to some pretty nasty predicaments, all of which have been either caused by or exacerbated by you, and while you've always managed to come out alive before, one of these days someone is going to get hurt. I just hope you don't wind up killing her as a result of your own selfishness."
Screw the sheep
Speed launched himself at Duggery, and unleashed his rage. Duggery had been annoying before, but he had gone too far, and Speed was too mentally stressed to keep his anger under control. Normally, he was pretty responsible when it came to fighting…well, sometimes anyway…okay, occasionally…but Duggery deserved all of this. What he had said was simply cruel. However, what Speed didn't want to admit was his fear that Duggery might be right. He had always thought that he put his family in danger, but he never actually said it out loud to himself. And here Duggery had seen everything that Speed subconsciously felt.
The fight was pretty one-sided; Duggery talked big, but he couldn't compare with Speed, who was a far superior fighter. Duggery threw the occasional punch, but mostly he just tried to defend himself. Thankfully for him though, the fight didn't last long, as Sparky along with several other miscellaneous men who had been standing around ripped to two of them apart. Speed was screaming curses at Duggery, who yelled some right back. Speed was silenced however when Pops arrived on the scene. He violently shook the other men's arms off of him, saying that he was fine and that he had done what he had meant to do (referring to the bloody gash across Duggery's forehead).
"That's right, Racer, cower when Daddy comes along!" Duggery yelled, being pulled away by several people.
"Shut up, and think before you open that hole of yours again!" Speed yelled in response. "You're lucky I didn't feel like doing any permanent damage."
Pops surprisingly actually didn't look that mad. Oh he was angry, most definitely, but he had actually heard everything that Duggery had said to Speed. Speed had remained calm for a lot longer than he would have if he were in his situation…but he decided not to mention that.
"Are you finished now?" Pops growled at him. Speed looked down at his hands, both of which were bloody and had lots of cuts on them. He nodded.
"Then let's just get back to work, shall we?"
Speed nodded again, and silently wrapped one of his hands in a white towel that had been lying around. He then started to pick things up again, but noticed out of the corner of his eye that Trixie was standing about ten feet away from him, looking incredibly pale and frightened. He could only assume that she had been horrified at the sight of the fight.
But before he said anything, she had opened her mouth and whispered, "There's blood."
"Oh…don't worry about it Trix…I came out a lot better than he did, I'll tell you that much."
"That's not what I meant. I meant there's blood in Racer X's Docking Bay. And he's not there."
Speed stared at her incredulously, and Pops and Sparky looked up from what they were doing in surprise.
"And I talked to the Super in charge of competitor access to the area…he said that Racer X never checked out on Monday night. He checked in, but didn't check out. And no one has seen him since."
"What about the blood? You said there was blood in his Docking Bay?" Pops asked anxiously.
"The Super said no one had noticed it. It was pretty hidden; there were loads of books and papers stacked over it, as if someone had deliberately tried to hide it. I was the first one to see it, since I was digging around in the papers for my print-outs."
Speed felt as though his legs would give out from underneath him. Trixie's words echoed in his mind…Racer X was missing, he had obviously been injured, and someone had tried to hide the evidence…
It's starting
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Whew! That was a little on the long side. Oh well…them's the breaks.
Please review…if you do I'll love you forever and ever and ever (or, at least, until I clean out my mailbox…kidding! I never erase my reviews). jvalen1@towson.edu