DISCLAIMER: I do not own the film "Cars." "Cars" is owned by Disney and Pixar Studios. However, the new characters in this fic are own by me. Remember that now.
NOTES: Sorry about the long delay; this is easily the hardest chapter I've written yet. I've decided to break it into two parts since I got a lot of stuff going on in this chapter. Anyway, enjoy.
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Chapter 7: The Race, Part I
"We've got a left curve ahead!" Allen yelled to Roger over the roar of his engine as the two police cruisers pursued two assailants... which were Crimson and Robert.
The two 4x4s weren't in trouble. They were helping out with training exercises for the Sheriff. Doc, Sarge, and the three police cruisers agreed to cut Robert's time for the racing incident if he'd help with an off road pursuit exercise for the two Crown Vics. Crimson heard about the exercise through Sarge, and asked to join in.
Needless to say, the truck and the SUV put the young cars through their paces.
"We got a curve up ahead," Crimson yelled over the sirens behind them. "Wanna take a detour?"
"Well, Sarge said, 'do the unexpected,'" Robert replied, grinning. "I think that would be unexpected."
Crimson snickered, and the two vehicles let out a joyous holler as they jumped off the elevated dirt road onto the desert floor, the two Crown Vics following behind. Who knew all those dirt drags would pay off? Crimson thought, smiling proudly.
"Come on boys," Allen said, a cocky smile on his face. "You can do better than that."
The four vehicles jumped over rocks and thread-the-needle through cactus like fighter jets, the two Crown Vics trailing behind the 4x4s. "I think they're getting tired," Robert said.
"They ain't tired; it's a trick," Crimson said. "They slow down, they think we'll slow down, then they'll try to sideswipe us. Go faster!"
The Ford and the Jeep accelerated. Crimson then saw a dirt road ahead through the shrubs and tumbleweeds. "Wait a minute," Crimson recanted. "Slow down!"
"What? Why?"
"There's a road up ahead! Let's throw the deputies a curve-ball," the SUV said. The truck smiled at the Jeep knowingly.
Behind them, the deputies saw the tail lights on the two vehicles light up as they slowed down. "I'd told you it'd work," Roger said to Allen. "Let's get 'em!"
The Crown Vics sped up, hoping to get ahead and block them.
Suddenly, the pick-up and the Jeep took a hard left onto a dirt road the deputies hadn't seen in front of them. Roger and Allen, going too fast, jumped over the road and landed onto a cactus patch on the opposite side. Crimson and Robert laughed as they heard the two cars far behind them let out a few expletives.
Allen emerged from the cactus patch, a slightly deranged look in his eyes. "Now I'm pissed!" he growled. He started his engine again and sped off, more than determined to get the two 4x4s. Roger followed after the other Crown Vic.
The cruisers soon caught up to the truck and SUV. Since the dirt road was straighter and smoother than the other roads on the course, the two faster cars had the advantage and were catching up to the bigger vehicles. "We got them!" Roger said. The two police cars split up and took both side of the road, hoping to get ahead of the 4x4s and block them.
As the police cruisers began to pass the two larger vehicles, Crimson and Robert hit their emergency brakes, and jumped back off the dirt road, cutting a path through the desert. "Ah crap," Roger groaned as he and Allen swung off the road, following the two vehicles.
----
Becky winced a little as the twins screamed out excitedly, "Here they come!"
The training exercises had become an event for the citizens of Radiator Springs, since there wasn't much to do. All of the town had come out to Sarge's boot camp to witness it, except the tuners for some reason.
Cheers could be heard as Crimson and Robert cut across the field onto the dirt path, Allen and Roger in pursuit. The truck and the SUV were giving it all they had, straining their engines to stay ahead of the cruisers.
"How fast are they going?" Lightning asked the Mercury Police Cruiser next to him.
Sheriff looked at the radar gun attached to his fender, his eyes widening in surprise. "130! And faster! I didn't know trucks and Jeeps could go that fast," he said in amazement.
Robert and Crimson glanced up at the excited screams of Lightning's fangirls. They looked at each other, grinning, then they both did a complete 180-degree turn, driving in reverse. Cheers erupted from the crowd at their feat. Robert, in a McQueen-esque fashion, winked at Cici, making the X5 let out a dreamy sigh.
"Show-off," Roger murmured.
Robert laughed and proclaimed, "Man, I love this!" Crimson and Robert spun back around and continued the exercise.
After a while, Roger and Allen finally figured out a way to outsmart the 4x4s. The dirt road cut through a tall embankment, so the two police cars split up on opposite sides of the embankment, racing over the top.
Robert glanced in one of his side mirrors, and realized the two cars were gone. "They ain't following us!"
"Really?" Crimson asked in disbelief.
He looked down the path and saw the police cruisers emerge from opposite sides of the embankment, blocking the road. "Shoot!"
The Cherokee and the F350 hit their emergency brakes, coming to a halt in front of Allen and Roger. "I do believe you two gas-guzzlers are under arrest," Allen said confidently.
Crimson chuckled. "Whatever, Allen."
----
"So Deputies, no hard feelings about the cactus patch?" Robert asked, grinning.
"I'm cool, Camino," Roger answered, shrugging. He glanced at the cruiser next to him. "Allen? What about you?"
"Eh, I'm all right, I guess," he mumbled, a slightly hostile tone in his voice. The girls giggled at Allen's response.
"So Robert, now that you are technically a free man," Crimson said to the truck next to him, "What's your plans? Leaving?"
"Naw. I'm staying for a while. This place is kind of cool." The Ford glanced at the red stock car across from him. "I mean, I get to hang out in the same town with Lightning McQueen, dude!"
The other cars at the Drive-In Cafe laughed at the truck's remark. After the laughter died down, Crimson said, "Speaking of racers, has anybody seen the tuners?"
"No"s came from most of the other vehicles. "No. After the boot camp, DJ usually disappears and I don't see him until the next morning," Sarge said. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," Crimson said, shrugging. "I just haven't seen them since I got my repairs. And got this really paranoid feeling hanging over me that they're gonna... I don't know, do something."
"You're probably getting that paranoia from Sarge, man," Fillmore said.
"I'm not paranoid," Sarge said defensively. "Need I remind you, you're the one with the conspiracy theories on the oil companies."
"You're the one that keeps stockpiling gas rations for when the Japanese imports buy out OPEC," Fillmore shot back lazily.
The young Cherokee rolled his eyes as the hippie and the veteran got into an argument. He glanced to the space next to him and noticed it was empty. He looked up and saw a glimpse of Becky's taillights as she left the cafe, driving down main street.
He hit the release for his pump and drove out, following her. He pulled up alongside her quietly.
"Becky?"
The VW jumped a little at the sound of his voice. "Oh, hi Crimson."
"Where you going?" He asked.
"I'm going to bed," Becky answered as she pulled up to Lightning and Sally's garage, trying to not make eye contact with him.
"'Going to bed'? It's only 8:30. Besides, Sally said she's giving you tomorrow off."
"I know, but I... just want to turn in early."
She was lying. Since Crimson had driven out of Ramone's, Becky had developed a huge crush on the Jeep. But she was wary to express her feelings, as those exact same feelings had gotten her stuck in five bad relationships in two years, including Gary. She was forcing herself to wait, hoping everything would work itself out.
Crimson, of course, had a crush on the Jetta since seeing her drive down the road at the boot camp days ago. And with each passing day, it was becoming harder to control. The Cherokee almost got into trouble with Sarge when the elder Jeep caught him "abandoning his post" so he could help Becky wash some windows at the Cozy Cone. By now, he'd do anything to spend more time with Becky so he could warm up to her, and possibly ask her out.
"Oh, come on! Let's go someplace and hang out," he pleaded.
"Go someplace? Like where?"
The Jeep paused. Shoot. Where to go, where to go...
"Uh, McQueen was telling me about a dirt track outside of town. What was it called; uh..."
"Willy's Butte?" she asked.
"Yeah, that's it. Come on, let's go for a little night race. It'll be fun!"
Becky finally gave in. "...okay, speed demon. You win. Let's go for a race."
----
The Cherokee looked in his side mirror at the Jetta tailgating him, the two cars climbing the curved wall of Willy's Butte. "I told you'd this be fun," he called out.
"Yeah, it is," Becky said, smiling. "Man, I miss doing this."
Crimson and Becky leaped off the curved wall and landed back on the flat part of the track, whooping and laughing. They looked ahead at the upcoming turn. Crimson slowed down.
"Uh, you go first."
Becky rolled her eyes at his chivalry, and accelerated into the curve, drifting like Doc had taught her years ago. Crimson followed behind, doing the same.
Crimson watched her drift, noting how her body looked in the moonlight. The faint blue light accentuated her curves as it glistened off her paint, making the Volkswagon look angelic.
God, she's beautiful, Crimson thought dreamily.
Unfortunately, the Jeep was too busy gawking to pay attention to the road and forgot to stop turning. He looked forward... and saw a big cactus in his way.
"AAAAAA!!" WHOMP!
"...ow."
Becky noticed that the set of headlights behind her were gone. She glanced in her side mirror, and in the faint moonlight saw Crimson out in the island of the track, covered with dirt and surrounded by a dust cloud.
She gasped, thinking Crimson had crashed. Becky hit her brakes and spun around, racing back to the Cherokee.
"What is it with me and cactus?" Crimson muttered as he spit out a chunk of the cactus he mutilated. Becky slid to a halt next to him.
"Ohmygosh! Crimson, are you alright?" she panted worriedly.
"I'm okay, Becky," he reassured her, shaking the cactus chunks and dirt off him. "I just hit a cactus. Again."
"Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine. Really, I am. I've been through worse, mind you. "
The Cherokee and the Jetta slowly drove back onto the dirt track, Becky looking at the red 4x4 with concern. Crimson noticed this.
"Becky, really, I'm okay, all right?" he said as he moved around to face her, smiling. "See, look at me. No damage. Granted, those prickley things hurt, but I'll live."
Becky finally smiled, relieved that her friend was all right. The two teenagers stared at each other, but not in a dreamy, lovey way. A mischievous grin began to form on Crimson's face.
"...what?" Becky asked, giggling as she studied Crimson's goofy expression.
Crimson opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and shook his body. "No, I probably shouldn't."
He turned away from her and drove slowly down the track. The Jetta followed, intrigued by Crimson's odd behavior. "Probably shouldn't what?"
"Oh, I just wanted to do a little trick I did when I was a kid."
"What, what was it?" she asked.
Crimson stopped, glanced at her, and backed up. "Ah heck. Come with me."
The SUV and the car drove around the curve of the track. On the other side, Crimson snapped up his winch and hooked on under Becky's front bumper. "Okay, slip into neutral, and let your momentum do the rest," he told her.
That's when it clicked to her - Crimson was going to "crack the whip!"
"Hang on!"
Crimson started his engine again, and peeled out in reverse, pulling Becky along with him. As they rounded the curve at 50 miles per hours, Crimson let out some cable from his winch. When the track started to straighten out, Crimson quickly retracted his cable, hit his emergency brakes, and did a 180-degree turn, flinging the Jetta down the dirt track.
Becky screamed in exhilaration as she shot down the track like a stock car. She had enough momentum that she went around the curved wall.
When the track straightened out again, she slipped into drive and accelerated down the dirt track, stopping next to the Jeep.
"Wasn't that fun?" Crimson asked.
"Yeah! Do it again, do it again," she giggled.
They went around the curve and did it again. This time, they started back a little further than before, giving the Jeep more speed. Crimson flung her hard enough that she almost went around the entire track.
When Becky got to the turn, she started to drift as usual. But suddenly, she hit a bump in the track. Becky felt her tires leave the ground for moment, and suddenly she was going sideways... towards the cliff, where below was a large cactus patch.
Becky screamed again, this time in fright. Crimson spun around and saw her heading for the cliff.
"BECKY!"
The Jeep sped over and threw out his hook, catching her by the front bumper. Becky jerked to a stop, inches away from the cliff.
Crimson drove up to her, stopping right in her grill. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm good," she said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank you."
There was a pause between the two cars as they locked eyes again. Crimson instinctively started to retract his winch slowly, pulling along Becky until they were bumper-to-bumper... and he kissed her.
At first, Becky was surprised by the act, but soon relaxed into her suspension and turned on her hazard lights. Crimson soon did the same, and pulled her in tighter with his winch. One car expected the other to pull away eventually, but they didn't have the willpower to do so.
Suddenly, four sets of headlights clicked on behind Crimson, startling the two teens and breaking off the kiss. "Hey, what gives?!" Crimson barked in annoyance as he spun around to face the culprits.
He was met with a familiar snicker. "Sorry Jeepster, did we interrupt something?"
The lights clicked off, revealing Wingo, Boost, DJ, and Snot Rod.
Becky gasped, frightened by the four strangers, and moved closer to Crimson. Boost pulled up in front of her. "It's okay, baby. We're not gonna hurt you."
"Get away from her!" Crimson shoved the import away from Becky with his tire.
Boost glared at the SUV, but then his expression softened and he chuckled, "I'm gonna let that slide for right now."
"What do you guys want?"
"What do you think we want, gas-guzzler?" DJ barked angrily, pulling out in front of the other cars. "We want payback! You throw Wingo in the trash, insulted me in front of a crowd, and then you took McQueen's groupies from us! Now you're gonna pay for invading our turf!"
Crimson rolled his eyes at the blue tuner, letting out an exasperated sigh. Good lord, what an arrogant dipstick, he groaned to himself. "Becky, let's roll."
The Jeep and the VW turned to leave. But the tuners weren't about to let them go.
The four cars surrounded Crimson and Becky, blocking them in. Snot Rod and Boost pinned the Cherokee between them, while Wingo and DJ did the same to the Jetta.
DJ, pressing against Becky's right front fender, caught a whiff of a pleasing scent from the female car and grinned. "You smell nice, cutey," he said lecherously.
This put Crimson into a rage. "LET US GO!" he roared, thrashing against Snot Rod and Boost. The black-and-purple import finally leaped up and punched the Jeep in the eye - not too hard, but hard enough to catch his attention and get him to stop moving.
"You friggin' NOS-Head; that hurt!"
"Yeah, well, it hurts when you bang against me," Boost shot back. "Besides, this paint job costs more than all your repairs, fool."
Aggravated, Crimson asked, "Okay, what will it take to get you guys to leave me and Becky alone? You want me to apologize, leave town, what??"
"We want a race, dawg," Wingo jeered. "The loser gives the winner absolute respect; no names, no back-talk."
"Respect?? The day I respect a bunch of rice-rockets is the day hell freezes over," Crimson snapped at the import. "You want a race, we wager. $5000. Take it or leave it."
DJ glanced at Boost, looking for approval. The import shrugged.
"...okay Alpines, you got yourself a race," DJ said.