Chapter 5
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Baby this town rips the bones from your back
It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap
~Bruce Springsteen, Born To Run
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Chick did not feel well. Not that it was any surprise, but the deep blackness of the garage he was currently incarcerated in, along with his most hated race car rival ever, were not really helping matters.
His side, which had been dented by one of those lousy bikers, stung terribly, and he knew he'd suffered some dreaded internal damage. That wasn't McQueen's fault, technically. But everything else definitely was.
It was a good game, childish, probably, but still a good game. Trying to figure how many terrible things Lightning McQueen was responsible for. And also, it helped him to forget stuff the cocky rookie had said about him.
He wasn't exactly sure why McQueen's words had got to him, either.
"Sally and Mater stopped me from becoming a total jerk. They stopped me from becoming like you!"
And...what was so wrong with becoming like him, anyway?
Chick wondered why it might be so wrong. And then he wondered why he was even bothered, anyway.
He frowned, feeling, against his will, upset.
He turned against the corner of the garage and closed his eyes. He wasn't tired though. And was much too aware of McQueen's presence to relax very much.
He chanced a look through the darkness, and saw the rookie's dark outline, turned away from him. He could also make out the flashy 95 struck across the cars side; marred by scratched paintwork.
Chick blinked away, and tried to focus on something else.
It was then that he noticed the jangling apparatus hanging above him; all over the ceiling. It was some sort of metal, Chick could definitely see that; it glinted dimly as it turned every now and then, like some mysterious decor.
Chick didn't like the look of it.
He moved a little forwards, hoping he might get a better look , but his groaning engine told him it was best to just stay put.
Full of agitation, he looked once more over at McQueen, then turned away again.
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The light cast out before Lightning and Chick was a welcoming shock against them; presenting maybe a prospect of escape. Or at least some answers.
As Lightning looked over the leering truck and his two lackey bikes, he thought maybe such ideas were not too dissimilar to wishful thinking.
Still, a little optimism never hurt anyone.
"Er, hey guys."
The truck, who Lightning now thought much bigger than he remembered from yesterday, smiled with unsettling eyes.
"Hello, 95. 86," he nodded between the two cars.
Lightning looked sideways at Chick, and to his vague annoyance the green car looked less than terrified of their situation. In fact he looked almost detached from it all. He was peering with strange interest above him, at the garage roof.
Typical. Lightning snorted to himself. Trust Chick to act the indifferent jerk, whilst he played the part of whimpering wreck.
"Erm," Lightning cast around, trying to swallow his nerves. "So, what you guys got planned, huh? Something nice, I hope?"
At this the truck's leer seemed to twist into ugly amusement. "Yeah, something nice. Something like that."
At his side, the two bikers laughed.
Lightning, for the second time, turned an anxious look to Chick. But again, it seemed Chick had taken to playing the idiotically indifferent sidekick. However, the green car did catch Lightning's look, and he offered him a bored glance.
Inwardly, Lightning screamed in exasperation. Was he the only one who actually cared about their ominous‑very‑scary‑car‑napping?
Chick spoke up; "well boys, this has all been a blast and everything. But I'm kinda on a schedule here. Piston cup, fan‑adoration and all that."
Lightning stared at Chick, wondering whether the green car even recognised such a common trait as sanity. Probably not.
"You boys won't be going anywhere near that Piston cup, I'm afraid." the truck said, looking mockingly apologetic. "We have..other uses for you."
Lightning's innards prickled with anxiety. And never before had he felt so badly the indecent pain of being emptied of fuel, so hopelessly immobile. Well, except for that time in Radiator Springs when he'd been forced to mend the road...
He looked past the truck onto the horizon. It would have been so easy as well. He knew he could outpace those bikers, and the truck would be no problem at all.
"You won't get away with whatever you're planning on doing with us," he warned, trying to be far braver than he felt. "My crew...they'll know I'm missing. They'll come and find me in no time!"
"And yet they were stupid enough to let me car‑nap you in the first place," the truck pointed out, unmoved.
By Lightning's side, Chick scoffed, and for an insane moment Lightning thought maybe Chick was going to back him up on something;
"Use your brain, McQueen. Your pitiful pit crew couldn't even keep you safe from hillbilly land."
Lightning snarled at Chick; "don't call my crew! They're my friends!"
"Oh, big whoop," Chick rolled his eyes. "So you've got stupid friends. I wouldn't brag."
"Well, what about your crew?" Suddenly he was far too angry at the hateful green car at his side to spare any thought for the threat of anything in front of them. "Your crew probably don't care about you, they probably hoped you got car‑napped! Maybe they planned the whole thing, behind your back."
Chick glared, and his voice lowered; "you don't know what you're talking about, McQueen."
As the race cars stared at each other; both apparently stuck in their own little world of petty rivalry, a voice cleared, and the truck began to speak;
"Listen to me, you two..."
But then he was interrupted by a loud roar of noise.
Lightning looked up to the sound, at first thinking it was thunder rolling above them; but the sky was clear, and the sound was too contained for that. Then, as Lightning squinted into the distance, he noticed three dark objects hovering through the sky. Helicopters!
It seemed everyone else had noticed them too; as the truck suddenly skidded around, his engine screaming sharply as he barked to the two bikers;
"Get the garage door shut up! Quickly!"
"Hey...what..." Lightning watched as the bikers went about lowering the garage door, drowning out the morning light and placing them back into a faint gloom once again.
"Hey!" Chick yelled, but moved forwards too late. The garage door was sealed shut, as were any chances of getting their voices known to the outside. He growled angry exasperation, reversing back rapidly and almost crashing into the wall.
"Hey," Lightning said dully, then wasn't sure what he had planned to say anyway.
Well. It wasn't like he was going to comfort Chick.
Instead, he rolled his eyes at the ground and sighed. "What have those creeps got planned with us, anyway?"
Chick snorted. "don't tell me you don't know,"
"I-" Lightning considered. He realised it was too late to backtrack. Besides Chick already thought he was stupid. "I don't know. Whatever they've got planned, it doesn't sound good, though."
At this Chick laughed harshly, and kept a nasty glare on Lightning. "Definitely not very nice, McQueen. Definitely not very nice."
"You don't need to patronise me, alright?"
"I'm not, of course I'm not," even as he spoke Chick could not hide a sneer. "I know it takes a while for your brain to catch up,"
"What's your problem, Chick?" Lightning snapped.
"Look, don't you see?" Chick was incredulous. "Doesn't any of this add up to you? Or don't you use your eyes as well as your brain?"
"Wha...what do you mean?" a chill was beginning to shiver up Lightning's hood when he looked at Chick now. "What are you talking about?"
"Look up!"
Lightning did. Above him were a glitter of metallic objects; which might have looked pretty against the soft glow of morning light that ran through the roof, if not for what they were.
Engines. Parts of engines. All sorts of innards which Lightning had never seen before. Because before he'd never been able to. Never had to. These things...they belonged inside of you. Not dangling on display like some weird, sick joke.
And Lightning certainly did feel sick. He swallowed down his nausea and looked at Chick weakly.
"What...what is this place?"
"I don't know," Chick looked grim as he rolled slowly about the garage, "But one things for sure, it's not your everyday friendly mechanics."
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Lightning watched Chick, but wasn't really watching him. His eyes felt glazed and his brain felt incoherent with silent panic. Not too long ago, although now it felt many ages ago, he recalled Chick saying something about gut ripping...gut ripping criminals...
Shuddering, Lightning blinked, finally looking at Chick properly. The green car seemed, bizarrely, quite collected, despite everything. He was rolling slowly about the garage, his eyes set, concentrated.
"Chick," Lightning heard himself speak, and hated how pathetic he sounded.
"‑quiet, McQueen." Chick interrupted. "I'm thinkin'."
Lightning raised his windshields.
Chick thinking? Small wonders seemed to come about every day, then.
"And what exactly have you got planned? In case you'd forgotten, we're both pretty bust up. We can't move." despite the terrifying realisation of this, Lightning felt a little quelled when he looked at Chick now.
He couldn't help that intense irritation for Chick Hicks somehow outranked the idea of being gutted up by big scary trucks and smaller but equally scary bikers.
Now Chick was eyeing him, and unless Lightning had gone temporarily insane; resulting in mild hallucinations, he could swear that Chick was grinning.
He needed to confirm, or at least shoot down this insane observation: "What?"
"You might not be able to move. But I can."
And Lightning watched as Chick's meandering rolling about the garage slowly morphed into a growling engine.
It didn't sound very healthy. In fact it sounded incredibly unhealthy; and Lightning observed with an inward wince as Chick's entire body trembled and whimpered against the strain of his revving.
But Chick looked triumphant.
"You see, this is why you younger models are always getting beat. You just ain't got the endurance, have you?"
"Can I help that I'm not exactly accustomed to regular car fights or freak car‑napping occurrences?" Lighting commented, not wanting to be impressed by Chick at all.
He watched disdainfully as Chick moved about the garage a little quicker. The garage itself was quite roomy; because it was so bare, save the hideous mess hanging above them, of course.
Chick laughed, siding up to Lightning with a taunting nudge in the side; "Hey, no hard feelings, McQueen. I'm sure you'll come to terms with your second rate parts someday."
Lightning had to fight to steel his temper. "Well, I'm absolutely ecstatic that you're perfectly mobile, Chick," he said with all the enthusiasm of a car wanting to place himself in the path of a manic train, "but there is the tiny detail of how you plan to escape, isn't there?"
At this, Chick's grin faded a little bit, but his eyes remained annoyingly defiant.
"A tiny detail," he said, echoing Lightning's words. He moved away from Lightning to the front of the garage and then said; "those helicopters, no doubt they've been put out on a search warrant. To find us."
Lightning conceded with a nod. He supposed he could grant Chick that.
"And," Chick continued, "that truck and his crony bikes are probably doing their best to keep the 'copters away from here. Away from us."
"Yeah," Lightning agreed guardedly. "So?"
"So," Chick mimicked, rolling his eyes, "McQueen, do you ever miss not having a brain? Listen, you stupid rookie. While they're busy with the copters, we can escape."
"Great idea, genius. But you seem to forget we're in a garage. You know, the one we're sitting in right now? The one with the horrible guts dangling above us?"
Chick was shaking his head, "Clearly I overestimated you, McQueen. Which is an overestimate in itself. Cos I never really thought much of you anyway."
"Get to the point, Chick," Lightning could feel his temper fraying dangerously.
Chick's grin had formed a smirk, and he was looking at the back of the garage. Lightning followed his gaze, and for the first time noticed the door.
It was old and rotting; it's hinges were rusty, and though it was clearly locked, Lightning knew it wouldn't take much to knock it down.
A kind of manic green car would be more than enough for that.
He looked back at Chick, whose face was a mask of determination.
"The door? That's your plan?" Lightning couldn't help it. He was not exactly blown away by the radical thinking in this idea.
Chick seemed to catch Lightning skepticism. "Do you have any better ideas, rookie?"
Lightning frowned, knowing he was miserably beaten there. "No," he said sulkily.
"Thought as much," then Chick moved forwards suddenly, and before he knew it, Lightning found himself nose to nose with Chick. Chick was staring at his hood appraisingly.
"Chick...what...whatta you doing?" Lightning felt uncomfortable with the green car in such close and improper proximity. He could clearly see all of Chick's many stickers in great detail now, and the dark grazing about his quite badly broken bumper, a result of their earlier fight...
Chick looked impatient. "Are you going to open your hood, McQueen?"
Lightning was affronted: "What? No, no I'm not!" he pressed to reverse back, but then remembered he was still effectively as mobile as a concussed brick.
"Well," Chick was eyeing Lightning like he might be odd, or something like that.
Lightning didn't care. He felt perfectly justified. No car, not Chick, especially not Chick, was going to be prodding about his innards. It was embarrassing. The most degrading thing that could ever happen to him in front of his racing rival.
Still, Chick didn't seem to be looking at it that way. In fact, Lightning thought he might have detected a thin trace of concern on Chick's face as he looked at Lightning's bonnet.
But as quick as Lightning thought he might have seen that, Chick's expression quickly resolved into a scowl,
"Hell, McQueen. You're so weird." Chick reversed back, and Lightning felt himself relax a little. Not enough to disregard Chick's comment, though.
"I'm not weird. I'm just weirded out by you trying to help me, that's all."
"Why?" strangely, Chick seemed insulted.
"Why? Because it's you," Lightning could have laughed. "You wouldn't help me before...I mean, you left me!"
Chick seemed to bristle at the reminder; "That doesn't have anything to do with this, McQueen,"
"It has everything to do with this! You think after all that you've done and said before, I'm just suddenly gonna trust you to look at my insides and fix me up? And correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure you're no mechanic, Chick,"
"Oh right. I forgot. That's your wonderful Doc's job, isn't it?" Chick said sourly. "Well forget everything I said. You don't want me to help you, fine." the green car swerved away from Lightning, to face the garage backdoor once again.
There was a small silence, in which Lightning had a moment to take in Chick's sarcastic words. He also found, in that moment, he felt a bit sorry.
Lightning opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his voice was cut off by Chick's engine, which revved back into being.
Lightning watched with unspeakable apprehension as Chick's entire form trembled with want; as though he'd been starved of speed for so long, and soon it was all going to be released in one great surge; and he'd go racing off into the distance, and probably not stop until his tires bust.
Looking at Chick's determined face now, Lightning was reminded of the green car's brutality on the track; how reckless and ruthless he was. But with the reminder, Lightning felt almost hopeful. He knew Chick drove dirty, but he guessed, grudgingly, that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing to be.
Especially at times like this.
"So you're going to crash through the door?" Lightning breathed, not sure what he wanted Chick's answer to be.
"Yeah," and Chick looked excited by the prospect. His engine moved up a gear; and it sounded like a screeching mingling of protests and anticipation.
"Then what?" Lightning asked, having to yell a bit above the noise. "Are you going to come back? I can't move!"
Lightning's breath hitched and tightened the back of his throat when he said this. Would Chick even consider coming back for him? Feeling sick, he gave Chick a desperate look. "Chick?"
For a moment, Chick's face flashed from gruelling excitement into seriousness as he blinked at Lightning.
He hesitated quite significantly before he finally spoke;
"Yeah, I'll be back, McQueen."
And Lightning could only watch on, with irritating but now familiar feelings of uselessness and inadequacy, as Chick revved for a final time; then sped forwards into the door.
The crash was not as loud as Lightning had expected it to be. Maybe the door was much shabbier than he'd thought, but Chick cruised through with not a second's slowing. And as he hurtled into the light he didn't stop either.
Lightning could only watch as Chick disappeared onto the vastness before him; becoming a green speck which was painfully hard to see when the morning sun was shining so brightly in Lightning's eyes.
It was so infuriating, too.
The broken escape route was there for Lightning to take, and yet he could not even roll the few inches needed to meet it, never mind head off into the distance.
Then, as his whole dire predicament came into brutal focus, Lightning suddenly wondered what on earth he had been thinking.
Chick was gone. Chick Hicks. Who hadn't thought twice about abandoning him once before.
"Yeah, I'll be back, McQueen."
Suddenly Chick's words seemed very bleak and improbable indeed.
So Lightning just stared out at the broken door, and hoped that the helicopters might find him yet.
8
Lightning knew he shouldn't have been too surprised when the truck returned not too long after Chick's escape.
Clearly he had heard the commotion; no matter how unexpectedly quiet and brief the crash had been, and now he seemed not so much angry...much more intrigued.
"Your friend made a daring escape," the truck was observing the broken door with strange admiration, "but I think it might prove a mistake,"
"What? Have you set your stupid bikes after him?" Lightning didn't see any reason, not anymore, to play nice with his car‑napper. And he liked reserving his abject fear for complete rage, anyway.
The truck looked smug. "No. But he'll find himself meeting up with them very soon. You can count on that."
Lightning felt cold with the words, yet he held his ground, remembering how defiant Chick had looked before he careened through the garage door. Now he hoped he looked half so determined.
"You know you won't get away with this. I...we know what you're up to!"
"You do, do you?"
"Yeah," Lightning tried to ignore the dangerous look in the truck's eyes.
"Then I suppose you'll only be expecting this‑"
Lightning heard a faint thump, and it took him a hazy second to realise he'd be knocked on the hood. He felt dizzy and immensely stupid for a couple of seconds more, before surrendering to blackness.
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