Chapter 9
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The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive
Everybody's out on the run tonight
but there's no place left to hide
~Bruce Springsteen, Born To Run
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The sky was dotted with stars and the moon was almost halved, casting a faint illumination over the small station beneath it.
Chick was most disorientated by the sight; he wasn't used to waking up to blackness when he was suffering a hangover. He shook his hood, and grimaced a bit at the scraping noise his bumper made on the ground. His head hurt, but it wasn't as though he couldn't handle hangovers, and he knew that by the time he was back on the road, accompanying a welcoming breeze, he'd be quite recovered.
No, he wasn't worried about that.
He blinked over to the red car, snoring lowly in a corner of the café, and then found himself grimacing all over again, for reasons entirely unrelated to his loose bumper.
What in Chrysler had he said to McQueen the other day? He dreaded to think; the idea made his insides toss with a weird sickness.
He hadn't been that wasted, had he?
A soft murmur, and Chick saw McQueen was waking up with a mixture of relief and horror.
They needed to get moving soon. Travel by night; that had been his vague and intoxicated plan yesterday. And despite his questionable judgment then, he still couldn't think of anything much more credible now.
"Urgh," McQueen's voice was crispy, and he fluttered his windshield a little bit, apparently trying to focus on something. Eventually his focus fell on Chick. "...Urgh," he repeated to the green car, quite unhelpfully. "I feel like dying,"
Chick scowled at him unsympathetically. "That bad?"
"Yeah...my...my head hurts."
Chick rolled his eyes; "it's called a hangover, kid. Get used to it. And get your motor running. We gotta split."
McQueen fixed him with a glare, which probably would have been a lot more menacing if his eyes were a little more focused. He rolled unsteadily round to meet Chick. "Hey, who's genius idea was it to go drinking, anyway?"
Chick wasn't in the mood for , even though it happened to be one of those annoying emotions which never really let you know when it was arriving. Guilt was rude like that; just barging into Chick's conscience, and telling him to feel bad about things. It seemed to happen a lot more when Lightning McQueen was around, too.
Letting go a small sigh, Chick attempted an apologetic face.
"Okay, I guess that was a pretty dumb idea. But we're all okay, right? Quick drive around will cure a hangover, no problem."
McQueen snorted and wheeled around with a wince, "Yeah right. If my head doesn't explode first." he had drove out of the café into the darkness before Chick could say another word.
Or at least an audible word.
"Whiny kid," he muttered to the room, and looked hopelessly to the ceiling. If this entire predicament wasn't going to be the death of him...
"Hey, 86,"
"Huh? Oh, hey," Chick turned to face Ricket, the road car looked concerned. "What's up?"
"Your buddy out there, he's lookin' a bit fragile. Maybe he had one too many of the old gasohol?"
"You think? Not my problem." Chick returned a desperately interested gaze back to the ceiling. "That kid's a rookie in more ways than one," he added, feeling quite nasty. And quite eager to be rid of that rude, inconsiderate guilt which still insisted on bothering his mind. Stupid guilt.
"Mm, hm." Ricket nodded, but his tone forced Chick to look at the road car. He sounded concerned, and unconvinced.
"What?"
Ricket hesitated, awkward. "Nothing. But ah, well. C'mon Chick, I know you've taken a liking to the rookie. Who can blame you? The kid's got spark,"
"What? Why would you say that?" .
"It's obvious, isn't it? I mean, what you did-"
Chick turned a scandalised face on the road car;
"That doesn't mean anything,"
"But-"
"Listen, let's get one thing straight. I don't like that hotshot. Not one little bit," Chick interrupted. "In case you didn't notice; he's my rival. And he gets through his racing life on a whim, just cos he looks the part. Everyone else, all us normal guys, we gotta actually work for our place on the track. That amateur rookie's never worked a day in his life. He got built for speed, and that's that."
Chick was panting by the end of the small rant, and the harsh silence of the café was only broken by a curt voice, cutting into Chick's mind like terrible realisation personified;
"That's what you think?"
Chick reversed round, almost clipping against a booth, to see McQueen staring at him; an expression somewhere between disbelief and anger vying to dominate his face.
Chick didn't know what to say; the deft uneasiness which seemed to smother the café in that moment, coupled with Ricket, who stood in awkward silence before them both, only made Chick wish there was a convenient Stop and Rewind button to fix this moment.
And it might have seemed such a bizarre regret to have, as well. Considering Chick had never thought twice about insulting Lightning McQueen in the past.
Caught in this awful moment, Chick didn't even consider how strange that was, though.
He only wished that McQueen hadn't heard him say that.
"..um..." he started, dumbly. Like a blind man trying to find a label which might have said the word "sorry" on it.
"Forget it, Chick." McQueen's voice was quiet yet frosty. "I'm just glad to know you're all back to normal."
Chick didn't think he sounded glad at all; "Hey, McQueen-"
"I'm moving outta here now," Lightning interrupted, and his eyes rested on Ricket. "Thanks for fixing me up. Give the other guys my thanks too," He turned sharply out of the café entrance, and started to melt into the darkness, before Chick really understood what had happened.
He turned to Ricket, who looked like he might be feeling sorry for Chick.
Chick hated that; "What? Anything else you want to tell me to worry about?"
The anger was vehement in his voice, but even so, Ricket remained annoyingly sympathetic, and when he spoke he sounded soft and understanding;
"If you hate him so much, why'd you help him?"
"Cos I'm an idiot. Clearly." Chick made to exit the café, but he felt Ricket at his side. "What now?"
"Chick, what you did," Ricket's voice was pressed with apprehension. "You do know...you do know it'll be harder for you to keep up? Keep going, I mean?"
This time Chick couldn't help but turn and look properly at the road car, and with it he didn't bother to hide the fear which had probably descended on his face.
"I know," he said stiffly. And then turned away, to face the darkness set out before him.
He didn't want to think about that. He'd made a good point and effort not think about it, and be damned if he was going to start thinking about it now. And worry about it too
"Just letting you know, man." Ricket sounded distant to Chick, even though he was still at his side.
Chick didn't worry. But neither did he ever usually regret. Or feel sorry about certain things.
Now things were mixed up. Messed up.
He pulled an agitated face at Ricket; "you needn't worry about me. It's that lousy excuse for a race car you should be thinking about."
Pressing forward, and reveling in the cool night air, Chick did not bother to say his goodbyes to the road car which had effectively rescued him and McQueen.
He was much too annoyed, and though he hated himself for it, was driven by that nagging guilt. It provided him with a mindful fuel, which spurred him onto catching up with McQueen, and at least knowing he was safe.
Dear Chrysler. He was losing his mind.
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Lightning's head hurt, despite the cool wind and subdued tones of night around him. His insides were still sloshing with the heavy effects of gasohol, and he knew his mood had been somewhat worsened by his awful hangover.
Still, he made no apology for his storming off, away from Chick.
Chick's words still bounced about his mind, and as odd as it was, Lightning had been hurt by them.
He never thought, before, that Chick Hick's was even worth getting upset about. Not least because of any casual insults he might fling his way. Because Chick was just like that with everyone. It was common fact; jerk on the track, and jerk off it too.
It made Lightning wonder why he'd felt such disappointment, such upset when he'd heard Chick's rant. When he'd heard what the green car had always thought of him.
And hadn't he always known it, anyway?
He supposed he'd thought Chick might have changed a bit. He supposed he'd hoped that after everything, all the stuff they'd been through, the green car might have altered his attitude a little bit.
Lightning decided, well at least he wanted to decide, that it'd all been wishful thinking. And actually Chick was still a jerk and always would be.
But Chick had come back...He'd rescued Lightning from Dolpha...
And Lightning still recalled how uncommonly frightened Chick had looked, and tired too. Yet he'd still hauled Lightning who knew how many miles, and they had talked. And some of the talk had been...good.
They'd actually got along.
Remnants of last night returned to Lightning in little bits and pieces.
On recollection, he winced to himself, remembering some of the more embarrassing moments. Like hadn't he done a really terrible impression of Mater? And hadn't he demonstrated his trademark "Ka-Chow!" and accidentally let his bonnet fly up instead, for all jeering faces to see?
Lightning might have blushed at that, but then he remembered other things too. Things which hadn't been embarrassing, or so he thought, and had just been fun.
He remembered racing erratically round the abandoned station. He remembered talking to Chick. And Chick had been easy-going and friendly. And they'd laughed. Together, and not at the other's expense. Just for a change.
He remembered Chick being scared in the mud, and then he remembered Chick talking about being a loser. How much he seemed to mean it. And then how easily Chick had told him that, like they were friends for a day. It was so confusing.
"Stupid jerk," Lightning mumbled to himself, and kept a furrowed gaze well ahead of him. He was driving slowly though, for fear that his engine might alert certain psychotic bikers. But a more subconscious part of him supposed he wanted Chick to catch up, and maybe explain his jerkish attitude.
Also, he was still feeling very tender.
Stupid Chick and his stupid getting-completely-wasted idea.
"Hey,"
Lightning rolled his eyes, with intentional laziness, to glance at Chick. He he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a surprised turn-around. He kept driving.
"Oh, you caught up, finally." he said.
"Um. Yeah."
He sounded uncharacteristically uncertain. Good. Lighting was vaguely satisfied.
He felt a blocky shadow come up his left side, and then he saw Chick driving beside him, his eyes focused just as stoically as Lightning's had been, on the distant horizon.
The silence was almost intolerable, even the hum of their engines seemed to become suffocated behind it.
This wasn't right. Lightning had no idea why he was feeling awkward.
"Erm." Chick spoke again, and Lightning pretended to be concentrating on whatever lay ahead again.
There was a long pause, as though maybe Chick was waiting for some sort of agreeable response from Lightning.
Screw that, Lightning thought venomously. He wanted Chick to wallow in this painful silence a little longer...
"I don't even believe this," Chick growled, "Now you're giving me the silent treatment? Real mature, rookie. Real mature!"
Lightning pulled on his brakes sharply. Chick followed, and then the two of them were glaring at each other, nose to nose.
"D'you really think that? Do you really think I'm just getting by cos of the way I look? That I don't actually try?"
He hadn't meant to blurt out all of that; he hadn't meant to care about Chick's stupid opinion in the first place, but there it was.
"McQueen-"
"If you think that you're more stupid than I thought. Or maybe you're worried you're slowing down, Chick. Is that it? Worried about everyone else catching up to you...overtaking you?"
Chick stared at him as if he'd been exposed. His expression hardened. "Every car worries about that, McQueen. One day you will too,"
"I already told you, winning isn't everything, Chick. I'm not gonna worry about that anymore. Why can't you understand?!"
"What do I need to understand coming from a stupid rookie?" Chick raised his voice, "I don't need to listen to you lecturing me every day...as if you're some wise old mature wagon just cos of a few days in hillbilly land-"
"Whose mature? You're the one who thought it'd be great if we all just got wasted! What kind of plan was that?"
Chick shook his hood; "Getting wasted wasn't the plan, McQueen. It's not like we could keep moving in broad daylight, with those crazy bikers waiting for us...or did you have any better ideas, McQueen?"
"I don't know! Anything else might have been a better idea though!"
"I didn't see you coming up with any bright ideas," Chick had edge forward, and so did Lightning, so that they were almost bumper to bumper.
Lightning pressed his engine up a gear, almost ready for another one of those stupid brawls.
"So there was nothing else we could've done? You think a few drinks was the best solution?"
"I-" Chick stuttered. He'd risen high on his axels, meeting Lightning's fighting stance. The green car's eyes scoured the darkness, as though trying to find the right words, or brace himself for something. "I don't know…it was always my old man's solution!"
Chick seemed quelled into shock by his own words. He sunk back down, low to the ground, and backed slowly away from Lightning. Lightning thought he saw something flicker tellingly in Chick's eyes, and then he realised that it was deep mortification.
"...what?" Lightning ventured, his thoughts teetering on comprehension. "Your… old man? Your dad?"
Chick shrunk back some more, his eyes widening.
"Just...forget about it, McQueen. Forget that,"
The silence that hung around them now was much more awkward than before; on both parts. Lightning was at a loss of what to say. He bit his lip, his eyes falling over each pin-prick of a star that speckled the sky, as though they might lend him the gift of being able to speak naturally.
"Did he drink?" he asked at last, feeling hopeless.
"I said forget it, McQueen," now there was a flash of warning in Chick's words. He was looking at the ground, to where his bumper still dragged rather lamely.
Lightning felt a pang of sympathy for the other race car in that moment, even though he'd been so adamantly against it. Strange when only minutes ago he'd been furious enough to try and wreck the other car again.
"C'mon, let's keep moving," Chick said gruffly.
Lightning nodded distractedly.
"Okay," His mind was buzzing and he ventured a subtle look at Chick; but the car's profile gave nothing away, save his apparent determination to keep on driving.
8
So they went on in a painful silence, the dust kicking up against their tires, causing little clouds about them and the mutter of their engines, the only things seeming to serve some kind of distraction.
The sky was beginning to lighten though, and early morning would soon be arriving. Lightning had not forgotten what the road cars had told them, about Dolpha and the bikers. In some ways he'd been strangely glad of the tension between he and Chick; it helped him to forget the other much more glaring problem they had.
Now though, with light revealing them as lost, effectively helpless cars on the wasteland, there was little to stop Lightning from worrying about Dolpha, and how he might find them again.
"There's some little trenches round here, alright if we need to hideout," Chick spoke up.
Lightning followed his gaze and was a little comforted by that fact. He drove near to a small indent in the ground, which was deep enough for a car to hide in if someone happened to come along at the wrong moment.
"Hm. I doubt I'd be very good at getting out again, though," he commented.
He half expected, more hoped, that Chick would offer a cutting reply. So he was disappointed when he got none.
They just kept on moving, and nobody said anything unless it was entirely necessary.
Necessary came in the form of an alarmed hiss from Chick;
"McQueen, get down, now!"
The green car had steered sharply round, blowing dirt up in Lightning's face. Lightning panicked through his momentary blindness, then tailed after Chick unquestioningly, into a small trench.
He almost crashed against the other car's rear, and gave a whimpered apology as Chick turned silently around to face him.
"I heard something. A biker, I think." Chick said grimly.
Lightning stifled a cough, the dirt was still settling around them, and now he found himself uncomfortably posed in the trench; his nose digging against the ground whilst his rear end was still half up the trench.
"Move down a bit more," Chick said, and he reversed back.
Lightning did as he was told, and managed with relative quiet to side up to Chick.
"That was close-"
"Shh!" Chick snapped, "they might be coming."
Lightning felt his gut clench. He was budged right up to the other car, so that he could feel the faint vibration of his engine. He gritted his teeth and whispered; "what shall we do?"
Chick seemed unsure of himself, before rolling slowly ahead. "We keep moving. Along the trench."
Lightning glanced at the uneven, cracking ground set before them.
"But...we don't know how safe it is,"
"It's this or keep travelling up there, where we're more likely to be found," Chick said flatly. And then he turned and began moving, low and silent against the ground like some predatory creature.
Lightning was wavering in his own quiet panic. He looked doubtfully above; the trench they'd rolled down was rather steep itself, he wasn't sure he'd even be able to get back out again. He turned his gaze back to the green car, who was looking more and more insignificant the smaller he became.
Lightning sighed shakily as he pressed after Chick. He tried to glare at the other car, but just couldn't find the emotion to match it. He was remembering little fragments of the other day, and it was hard to justify his anger for the other car anymore.
"Hey, not so fast, wait for me," Lightning hissed, pushing fear to the back of his mind.
They stopped their delicate creeping along the trench when Chick halted unexpectedly. Lightning almost clunked into his back.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing,"
Lightning couldn't see his face, but Chick sounded a bit uneven.
"You sure?"
"Yeah," said irritably. "Just give me a minute. Um, thought I heard something."
Lightning rolled his eyes and decided he wouldn't push the subject. Instead opting to scowl at Chick's rear, which was littered with far too many stickers. All of which were either scuffed with dirt or torn away in places.
"Is...um...are you sure you're okay?"
"Ford, McQueen. What are you, my mom now?" Chick revved his engine, as if in answer to Lightning.
"Okay, I get it." Lightning was dealt a gush of exhaust flames, and he coughed against them.
He heard Chick snigger, and for some reason Lightning was a little relieved. Even if Chick had meant it maliciously. At least they could go back to speaking to each other, whatever terms they were on.
"You're not funny, Chick." Lightning said.
"You already said that, yesterday, if I remember rightly, McQueen."
"I don't remember."
"Of course you wouldn't. You were wasted."
Lightning was glad Chick didn't see his blush. "Oh. Well that wasn't my fault."
"Yeah, I know. It's my fault you got drunk. I was irresponsible and am a bad influence and all that other stuff. Please spare me yet another lecture, McQueen."
"I wasn't going to say that. I was going to say it's not my fault I'm such a lightweight."
"Oh. Uh. Well okay then."
Lightning smirked; "Besides, it probably was my own fault. I had more than I could handle."
Chick laughed a little bit; "yeah, you can say that again."
The silence around them was much easier this time, when nobody said anything else. So it was much more regrettable when it was broken my an ominous noise, which seemed to vibrate through the trench and cause both Lightning and Chick to halt in their tracks.
"Is that them?" Lightning turned a rushed look to Chick.
Chick looked past him, and frowned. "Think they might've spotted us, rookie."
Lightning was compelled, unwillingly, to follow Chick's grim gaze. In the very far distance were two specks, but both were undeniably recognisable.
"The bikers," Lightning heard himself squeak.
"Time to get those gears moving, rookie," Chick said, and was veering up the side of the trench in a second.
Lightning followed, closing his eyes against the dust which played around him, and he simply followed the harsh sound of Chick's motor for a good few lengths before cracking open his eyes to find himself almost stuck to the green car's side.
"Hey, how's it going, McQueen?" Chick grinned, and had to yell against the sound of their thunderous engines.
Inexplicably, Lightning found himself grinning back.
They tore along the desert, and Lightning was gliding across the ground. He'd never been great on dirt; Doc had taught him that lesson, but right now, rushing along the land at manic speed, Lightning felt like he'd always raced on it.
"Are they still behind us?" he called.
"I don't know,"
Their slowing was gradual and cautious; Lightning couldn't hear an engine behind them, but then he supposed he wouldn't anyway, since their own engines were so loud. It was with tentative nerves that he dared a glance backwards, and saw that the bikers had vanished.
Chick caught Lightning's look of relief, and slowed to a considerable stop. The green car's engine made an unhealthy growling sound, and with it Chick groaned unmistakable pain and sank closer to the ground.
"Hey, are you alright?"
"Yeah. Fine." came a strained reply, and Chick had squeezed his eyes shut.
"No you're not." Lightning rolled toward Chick, but the green car snapped his eyes open and looked at him guardedly.
"I said I'm fine, McQueen. What part of that don't you get?"
Lightning opened his mouth to argue, but then thought better of it. He didn't want another argument. He didn't think he'd be able to handle another awkward silence either. Instead he lowered to the ground too, allowing his engine to cool, and offered Chick what he hoped was a friendly smile.
Chick saw it, and was resigned in his own smile. His voice matched it, tired and defeated; "Listen, McQueen...I gotta say...I'm, um...about what I said before..."
Lightning tipped forward a bit, since Chick was speaking rather quietly.
"You gotta know..I was just...I didn't mean anything I said. I mean, I know you work hard and all that stuff."
"It's true, I really do." Lightning grinned at him. "Might be hard to believe, I can grant you,"
Chick's grin was faint in return, and his eyes flashed seriousness. "Well, I guess it's just kinda difficult sometimes...you made it look so easy…rookies don't usually do so well so quick, you know…" he trailed off and looked at the ground. "you're right. I am worried about getting left behind. Stupid. " he snorted. "i'll always be a runner up, anyway."
Lightning took in a bracing breath, noticing the touch of desperation in Chick's otherwise levelled voice.
"Listen, Chick. You're not a runner up. I never thought of you like that, never have,"
Chick frowned at him. "yeah right. I'm Thunder, remember."
Lightning shook his front; "forget all that. It's just a stupid joke, you know that, right?"
Chick's eyes didn't move from the ground, his expression unreadable.
"Listen," Lightning said. "When I was in Radiator Springs…I really, really hated it."
Chick raised his windshields. He probably hadn't expected that turn of conversation.
Lightning pressed on anyway. "I hated it a whole load. I thought it was just a...well, a hillbilly land. Like you," he acknowledged Chick with a short nod of his hood. "Then when I got used to it...well, I didn't really have the choice, I kinda...started to like it. And I started to like the other cars."
"Oh yeah," Chick grinned vaguely. "That Porsche, right? She's a nice looking piece of metal."
"Yeah," Lightning coughed, to hide his embarrassment. "She's very nice,"
"McQueen? Why are you telling me this? I already know about your little trip to hillbilly land. The press had a field day printing it, remember? All about how you'd been on this incredible journey and had finally found yourself."
Lightning pulled a face which matched Chick's; "I wouldn't put it like that. The papers like to exaggerate."
"Well still."
"What I'm trying to say is, the whole thing changed stuff for me. I started to see things in a different way. I wasn't so obsessed with winning the cup."
"And?" Chick looked impatient. "I'm still trying to find your point here, McQueen."
Lightning sighed patiently. "Chick, I'm trying to say-trying to say...this whole experience...hasn't it opened your eyes a bit? I mean, all this driving for a lives stuff? Hasn't it made the Piston Cup a little bit insignificant in comparison to all this?"
Chick faltered on his response, his mouth hanging open slightly as he seemed to think it over. Eventually he settled for glaring at Lightning. "I still want to win that cup, McQueen."
"Chick-"
"-but I can see what you're saying," Chick finished quickly.
Lightning half smiled. It was like they'd had some sort of agreement. And they were both sober. Small miracles.
"I can't help that I want to win that cup," Chick added suddenly, a little bit defensive. "I was always told, winning is everything. That was my old man's thing."
"Oh?" Lightning enquired casually, but secretly this was what he'd been working to. All he wanted; just for Chick to open up a bit more. "Was he, um, was he hard on you? I mean with racing and stuff?"
Chick seemed to consider. "ah, it was a long time ago. I can't pretend like it's still an excuse,"
Lightning frowned at him. "so he was hard on you?"
Chick kept his eyes on the ground. " He was crazy about racing. Obsessed, probably. All I remember of him was this green blur going round and round. He didn't stop for nothin', not even his kids."
Lightning listened with intent, taken by the crack of emotion in Chick's tone.
"Course, he never got very far. That was his big problem. Couldn't accept he wasn't good enough to get into the big leagues," Chick looked at Lightning pointedly. "That's when he started drinking. And that's all I remember about him. Racing and drinking. Great memories, huh?" Chick's laugh still so bitter, and very forced, Lightning could see.
"I'm sorry," Lightning said very redundantly.
"Don't be. It's a long time ago."
Lightning wanted to ask more, there was so much more he wanted to know, but the way Chick turned away told him it was best not to.
And that was okay. Lightning had the feeling Chick had told him more than he might ever have intended.
"Anyway, just forget all that stuff I said about you before, McQueen. I-I am sorry."
Lightning nodded into a tiny silence. He maneuvered to that he could catch the other car's gaze.
"It's okay. I know you are,"
Chick blinked up at him, he looked surprised. "Well. Um. That's all good then," he paused. "Dammit, McQueen."
"What?" Lightning smiled at him.
"Nothing. I just feel like I really gotta whoop your ass on the track now. Make up for all this."
Lightning laughed. He felt like something heavy and needless had been pulled off the back of his hood, and now he felt much happier without it.
"I look forward to your threats, Thunder,"
Chick's terrible embarrassment quickly fell into annoyance. "Hey, watch it, rook," He veered quickly ahead. " get used to this view, McQueen. You'll be seeing it a lot in a few days,"
Lightning pressed his gears forward, catching up to Chick; "Oh yeah? We'll see about that, Thunder. We'll see,"
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"So your Tow Truck pal. Has he ah, got a few screws loose or somethin'? Too much rust in the ol' hood, you know that I mean?"
"Chick. Can you go a minute without insulting my friends?"
"Yeah, okay, fine," Chick said. "Sure, I can do that. Erm.."
They'd been driving at a leisurely gait for about an hour now, though the tender stinging somewhere near the back of Chick's engine made it seem more like a couple of days.
It had been his idea to carry on moving, and he'd refused the help when it came to McQueen checking his engine for him. He wasn't going to allow for that, and now he had a vague idea how McQueen must have felt when Chick had offered to do the same.
Hideously embarrassed, probably.
Still, Chick thought he was doing an okay job of putting on a front, he'd definitely not crumbled there.
He had in other ways, though.
Chick wasn't sure why he'd decided to spill details about his dad. McQueen had wheedled it out of him somehow, and he'd somehow ended up telling the rookie more than he'd ever cared to share with anyone else before.
And now he'd told him, it had been...alright. It hadn't been half so terrible as he'd expected, anyway.
It was still strange that he'd told McQueen - Lightning McQueen of all cars, though. Yet in the moment it hadn't been strange. It had felt like he was talking to a friend.
Chick mulled over the strange realisation, somewhere at the back of his mind.
"-And anyway, Mater's a really good guy. If you took the time to talk to him-"
McQueen was still blabbering on about that tow truck.
"You'll have to give me a tour, McQueen. The sights, sounds...and smells, I figure, of Radiator Springs,"
McQueen rolled his eyes. "Hey, well at least you called it Springs for once."
"See, I can be thoughtful."
"Would you really want a tour?" McQueen sounded interested. "I think you'd really like it Chick, I'm serious. There's a cute little motel, that's Sally's, so comfy, I'm telling you. Perfect after a few drinks at Flo's. And paint jobs...I think you'd look good in red, actually,"
"Red?" Chick grinned at the idea, "You think?"
"Yeah, for sure. If you got rid of some of the stickers, I mean."
"Hah, you're never gonna stop with that, are you?"
"I guess not," McQueen looked at him. "You should definitely come visit though. I promise it'll be a good time, okay?"
"Well, maybe," Chick saw that the other car was serious. He realised he kind of was too. "I'll come see what all the fuss is about. If your friends can deal with you, maybe they'll be okay with me dropping by,"
"Are you kidding? They love race cars. Well. They love all cars. But it'll be fine. Don't worry,"
The assuring way he said those words reminded Chick that McQueen understood him a bit better now.
He ventured something between a smirk and smile in the other car's direction. "Hey, McQueen-"
He stopped talking all at once, when he felt a very familiar sound tremble beneath his tires. He turned round; and was a little more panicked by the fact that he couldn't see anything. Yet the sound was getting louder and louder by the second.
"What..what is that? Bikers?" McQueen asked, catching it too.
"Keep quiet and get down," Chick crouched as low as he could, and McQueen nodded and did the same. Both their suspensions creaked with the movement, and Chick held his breath.
The vibration beneath their tires was closing in now, unbearably near. Whoever they were, bikers or not, they must be almost on top of them.
Next moment; a crashing sound, and Chick saw dust before his eyes and McQueen was yelling beside him. Then something heavy falling over his windshield.
An explosion of white-hot pain, and then darkness.
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