Chapter Two: Crash Landing

Lance couldn't help the grin that spread over his face as he pulled out into traffic and accelerated up to the speed limit. He had no particular destination in mind; he just wanted a chance to cruise and enjoy the thrill of vehicular freedom.

For the first couple of minutes, he picked roads at random, turning when he felt like it, and generally played around as much as he could with the thrill of accelerating up to the speed limit and navigating around the city's roads.

It didn't take long though, before he was debating on where to head…as much as he enjoyed the sensation of freedom, the open road, and cruising, he was, at heart, a practical guy who preferred having a destination. With a little shrug, he opted to pull off and check out a local video store, browsing for a few minutes before he spotted a movie he hadn't had a chance to go see in the theater, but still intrigued him enough to pick up and rent. With the video in hand, he headed back to his uncle's car and backed out of the spot, grinning to himself as he put the car in drive and pulled out onto the road again.

A sign caught his attention and the teen grinned as he made a left into the roads surrounding a local historical attraction and forest preserve. Trees rose around him as he accelerated on the winding road, restraining a whoop of pure glee as he hit the speed limit and curved around the next turn. Though careful to maintain the limit and keep his eyes open for other cars, the teen couldn't help his carefree grin as he curled around another turn and let the car sail down a small hill; he accelerated up the other side, smirking to himself as the speed gauge stayed steady. The weather was perfect, the road was perfect, and there wasn't another car in sight.

A clearing and a flash of something caught his eye and he pulled off, eyebrows going up at the sight of two deer, a mother and a fawn, grazing in the clearing. The mother lifted her head, eyeing the car with what Lance suspected was suspicion, then went back to her meal. The fawn didn't seem to notice…or care, as it flicked its small tail and bounced around its mother. Lance watched until the pair finished their meal and disappeared back into the forest. With an internal grin, the teen backed his car out of the overlook's parking spot and headed off again, accelerating as he hit the curve right by the overlook.

A small sigh of disappointment escaped as he hit the end of the preserve and he debated pulling a U-turn and catching the curves again. A glance at the gas gauge made him wince, just a bit…better not, he decided. With another sigh, he turned right, heading for a gas station nearby; he pulled into the small lot and parked at the pump. He got out, fueling the car and dreaming, idly, of the day when he could buy his own car. A smirk crossed his face; he'd probably be the first member of his immediate family to ever own a car (for this one thing, Uncle Greg didn't count and neither did Uncle Wordy). When the pump clicked off, Lance set about returning the pump handle to its place, closing up the tank, and retrieving his receipt. He moved the car to a spot right next to the station and strolled in, deciding to pick up a soda and a few things for the party his Uncle didn't think he knew about.

Lance browsed the shelves, frowning at the lack of a selection and the clearly inflated prices. He'd just decided to leave and try the nearest grocery store when an amused, "Looks like they cut you loose, huh?" came from behind him.

The teen spun, a grin crossing his face as he took in the speaker. "Hi, Clark!" he greeted, letting his glee out once more. Glee grew as he added, "Yep, got my license this morning!"

Clark Lane grinned right back at his slightly younger friend. "I remember when I got my license," he remarked, pretending to be an old hand at the whole driving gig. "The wind in my hair, the freedom of the open road…good times."

Lance snarked right back with, "Did they have windshields in 'your day'?"

"Scamp," Clark accused, leaning back on his heels.

"Anytime," Lance agreed. "So," he started, adopting a drawling 'cowboy' tone and pretending to tip his hat, "What brings you to these parts, pardner?"

Clark snickered at the cowboy impression. "Just passing through," he drawled right back, shifting to lean against the shelf behind him. "A little birdy told me you were going for your license today."

Lance bit back laughter at Clark's 'little birdy' reference…the older teen had no idea just how right he was. "She invite you?" he asked lazily.

Clark started, then laughed a little to himself. "I don't know why they even bother anymore…you always figure it out."

The Wild Mage shrugged…his magic usually sussed such things out without even trying and 'helpfully' let him know, so surprises were almost always wasted on him. "Hope springs eternal, I guess," he replied. "Anyway, I thought I'd pick up a few more things, then head back."

"You going back now?" Clark asked in surprise.

A head shake. "Naw…this place doesn't have everything I want, plus I don't want to give Uncle Greg a heart attack by showing up too soon."

The older teen chuckled again. "He's not that old, Lance."

A roguish grin. "Hey, you never know…it could happen."

Clark snickered and shook his head. "See you there," he called as he headed out the door of the station.

"Yeah, see ya," Lance called back as he browsed another minute or two before leaving himself. There was a grocery store a few blocks away with a much better selection.


Lance frowned, inspecting his haul and double-checking that he had everything on his mental list. At the last 'surprise' party, they'd run out of soda, so he was bringing another four of the large soda bottles…each a different type, even if his favorite tended to shift between Sprite and Mountain Dew. He'd also collected three large chip bags and nabbed two cartons of nuts for the afterparty. Even if it didn't all get eaten, he knew it wouldn't go to waste, so he felt absolutely no guilt at all as he went through the checkout line and paid for the items.

Outside, he hefted everything into the trunk, careful to stand where no one could spy the empty gun safe inside the trunk. With everything loaded, he closed the trunk lid and took the cart to the nearest cart corral. As the teen pulled out of the parking lot, he glanced at the clock and decided he'd better start heading back home. After all, it wouldn't do to be late to his own party!


Less than ten minutes later, Lance ground his teeth and wondered how he'd gotten himself turned around like this. He'd made one wrong turn for crying out loud! One! And now he'd gotten himself into the middle of a residential area on a one-way road. The teen sighed as he scanned the street signs and tried to find a place where he could get out of the residential area and back to the main roads.

He passed another three-way intersection and looked ahead to the next intersection, hoping to see a four-way intersection, which would, if he was lucky, lead to the main road he'd turned off of. As he reached the intersection, his shoulders slumped at the dead end sign on the right-hand road. The teen shook his head to himself and went straight. He stubbornly didn't pull over and pull out his phone…he could handle this himself, thank you very much.

After another two blocks with dead ends, he was just about to admit defeat and finally pull over, when his sensitive hearing caught the sound of tires screeching. His head came up and his magic flared, just enough that he instantly spotted the large white SUV careening towards him. It was still a block off, but on a one-way road, with no handy driveways and the intersection behind him, the young man had no place to go. His eyes narrowed as he judged the car's speed, then he paled. The speed limit, as with most places, was a solid 50 km/h (1), while the oncoming car was doing at least twice that.

With no place to go, Lance laid on his horn, trying to get the oncoming driver's attention, and slammed on the brakes, the lesson on how a head-on collision actually applied the speed of both cars to the accident running through his head. The slate-blue Impala obeyed at once, its own brakes screeching a bit as it slid to a halt, but it made no difference in the long run. The white Dodge Durango, far from slowing, accelerated even more as it blew through a stop sign and rammed the Chevy Impala head on.

Both cars slid, the Durango forward and the Impala backwards. The middle-aged female driving the Durango didn't even seem to realize that her car had hit something; she stepped harder on her gas pedal, confusion furrowing her jaw. The two cars kept moving until the Impala's back end struck a stop sign and got snagged. The Durango kept trying to move forward, its engine roaring as the driver kept applying pressure on her gas pedal. When it happened, it was almost inevitable…a piece of the Impala that had been sheared off in the initial collision managed to bounce off the road and get wedged between the Durango's gas tank and the rear axle. As the SUV fought to move forward, its rear tires screeching as they slid from side to side, the metal debris worked its way through the Durango's gas tank, creating a leak. As gas began to soak the undercarriage and the ground, the SUV's engine roared, full pressure applied to its gas pedal.

The woman in the driver's seat of the Durango blinked, puzzled as to why her vehicle wasn't moving. A thuwump preceded the back end of her car briefly lifting off the road and slamming back down. She looked around, finally registering that she'd had an accident and her car was on fire. She scrambled out of her SUV, fleeing to the sidewalk nearby where the shock of the crash and the alcohol in her system finally won the battle; she sank to the ground, unconscious.

Behind her, the newborn fire roared as it ripped through her car and advanced on the pinned Chevy Impala. Behind the Impala's steering wheel, the unconscious teen groaned, but didn't move.


[1] Kilometers per hour, rather than the typical American miles per hour (MPH). Canada switched their speed limits from MPH to km/h in 1977.