Chapter 11
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We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings on some wheels
Climb in back, heaven's waiting on down the tracks
~Bruce Springsteen, Thunder Road
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The future wasn't something Chick often thought about. Usually he only thought so far ahead as his next race, and then maybe what bar he might pull up in afterwards. He'd never saw reason in thinking on things any deeper than that.
Now the near future was catching up on him, he realised. As they ploughed across the terrain toward their spot of civilization; a long, busy road, Chick began to worry about the thing he had been trying so hard not to worry about.
His motor was making a strange whirring sound and there was something leaking out of his undercarriage like an insistent tap. Of course McQueen was too busy looking eagerly ahead to notice it, and Chick was actually glad about that.
Even though so much stuff had happened, and he'd probably told McQueen things he would definitely regret at some point, there was still a satisfactory calm in knowing something McQueen didn't.
And anyway McQueen looked too happy and excited. It'd be cruel to wipe the grin off his face now.
"I can't believe we found a motorway," the red car said. "soon this whole nightmare will be over, Chick!"
"Uh-huh," Chick nodded. He kept his gaze forward, it helped encourage his engine to keep going.
The rain had lifted, and now the whole ground was bathed in the sun's hot glow, and the cars on the road ahead dazzled and shone with the light. They were getting bigger and more decipherable. Chick had already counted six four-by-fours driving by.
"Seven," McQueen added. He grinned as the grey one zoomed past. "Know what I'm gonna do when we get back?"
"What?" Chick enjoyed this small talk. He hadn't really cared for much of any sort of talk before.
Maybe he just enjoyed talking to McQueen.
"I'm gonna take a long luxurious car wash. You know Flo has just opened a new one at Radiator Springs,"
Chick knew a little about Flo now (as he did with a few of the cars in Radiator Springs), and he thought about car washes with a wishful smile.
"Yeah. That would be pretty awesome."
They were driving at an average sort of rate; and Chick doubted he could manage much faster anyway. His whole body felt weird and off-kilter, vibrating too much. He guessed some of it had to do with his bumper-less front, which made him feel too light and brittle.
McQueen looked okay though, considering everything. He had a few nasty looking dents; most courtesy of falling rocks, but on the whole he seemed alright.
It made Chick feel better.
McQueen talked about other things he wanted to do when he got back; and Chick picked up more names, like Luigi and Guido, or Ramone.
"Eighth," Lightning said, eyeing the red four-by-four that rushed by, slighting bigger that the last one.
Chick grinned. "Am I insane, or are we counting cars, here?
"It's just to be sure we're not hallucinating or anything," Lightning said reasonably. "If we're both seeing them then they can't be hallucinations, can they?"
Chick raised a windshield, pretending to be shocked; "y'know, McQueen, sometimes you really do use your brains, don't you?"
"Well, yeah. It has been known to happen." Lightning grinned back, tilting up a bit. "Also, I just like to spot more four-by-fours than you,"
"I think we're tied," Chick corrected, then realised he was being ridiculous. "Wait, this is just some stupid game of yours. I'm not playing."
"Spoilsport. You're just scared you'll lose,"
"I'm not scared of losing a game of eye spy, McQueen." he narrowed his eyes and saw the next bright orange four-by-four speed by. "Nine,"
They counted up another six between them, and Chick thought he should point out that group hallucinations were actually very possible and had been proven in the past, whilst Lightning moaned and whined a bit about how much he needed a bath, and argued that anyone could pull off white tires if they had the right paintwork.
Listening to McQueen was good, though. Chick could almost forget that he was in quite a bit of pain.
A little while later it was all interrupted by a low rumble, and it rekindled a familiar fear in Chick. He halted almost instinctually.
"What's wrong?" McQueen stopped with him.
"Listen,"
McQueen wore a face of concentration, and it quickly fell into dread.
"Oh-" his expression was a confirmation of what Chick had feared. Still he had to see it for himself. He looked back to see two bulky bikers coming up fast and determined on the horizon. A few lengths away was a truck; Dolpha.
"What do they think they can do?" McQueen cried. "We're nearly out of their turf. They can't get us when we're back on the motorway!"
"Maybe, but we're not on the motorway yet, are we?" Chick said grimly. He looked ahead, where suddenly the busy road looked much further away than he would have liked. Hunching down his suspension, which still felt odd and light without his bumper, he glanced at McQueen. "We're gonna have to give it one last push, rookie,"
McQueen's nod was familiar and warming to Chick. It implied a shared understanding between them, and after everything they'd been through it felt like they could take on anything now.
"You got it," McQueen's mouth curved a smile. "hey, Chick?"
"Yeah?
"Race you,"
"Hah," Chick couldn't resist.
He pressed forward and for a moment found himself flailing through McQueen's dust. The red car had gained a sharp head start and seemed to blister across the dirt like a rocket.
Taking a deep breath, Chick shifted into high gear. Then a jolt of pain rushed through his innards and almost brought him back to a stop. He couldn't, though. He had to catch up to McQueen, whatever happened.
The fierce chorus of engines seemed nearer, and it helped make him forget his pain for an important few moments. He focused on the red blur ahead, and reached it's side with a breathless laugh.
"Slowing down, McQueen?" he jeered. It was familiar and it was like they were back on the track. It was wonderful.
"No way. Just giving you a chance, Thunder," McQueen's smirk was brilliant, and Chick was only spurred on by it. Maybe that was how he had always felt, or maybe it was how he always should have felt.
"Yeah right, rookie," he nosed ahead of McQueen and laughed at the red car's spluttering protest. But McQueen was still near to him, and Chick eyed his side with a flash of something he would always do on the track.
He veered in to knock McQueen; his sharp corner already lightly scratching the other race car's side.
It would be so easy, too. Like it always was on the track. He only had to give him a nudge…
He looked ahead, and then caught McQueen's face, which was taken up with pure-minded determination and nothing else. There was nothing malicious and conniving about McQueen. There was nothing unfair and lowdown about McQueen. He just raced.
Chick veered sharply away from him, and placed his own gaze ahead.
Then McQueen was back at his side and they were level-pegging again.
And it was almost like they'd never really left the track, and traumatic moments in falling trenches and glittering garages were bad dreams.
Chick could almost think that, until a tear of pain seared up him, and McQueen's voice was suddenly shaky and worried;
"Ch-Chick-look,"
Chick narrowed his eyes and then saw what McQueen saw ahead of them.
A great line of darkness, which had seemed like shadow a few lengths ago, suddenly presented itself as a great, long gorge. It divided the road from them, and they- they were trapped.
"What do we do?" McQueen asked; his voice high with panic.
Chick didn't know really. He wondered why McQueen thought he had an answer for something like this.
Then he was struck with wild inspiration, and with it he felt something akin to deja vu. Then he remembered it had happened before. Almost happened before.
"Let's jump it,"
His voice sounded stupidly calm and certain, and he almost laughed. This was terrifying and they were going to jump a gorge.
"What? You're crazy," Lightning said, which Chick secretly thought he might agree with.
Nonetheless he raised an eye at the other car; "you said you could jump gorges, if I remember well enough, rook,"
"I said..." McQueen's expression jarred and became irritable; "well I was crazy, then. And I know we can't jump it now! You said so yourself,"
It was strange; Chick wasn't even sure why he was grinning. They were probably going to die, and there were bikers closing in on them, and his engine felt like agony.
"Well I was wrong, McQueen. You were right; we can jump it,"
He didn't bother to catch the other's reaction, he could already imagine what it was. He already knew that McQueen thought he was mad. Instead he pressed forward, his gears shifting and rumbling into a roar of desperation.
"Just go as fast as you can. Like before," he commanded above the noise. Dirt was spewing all around him, and he heard McQueen choking, and fading behind him. "Faster, rookie,"
"I-I am-" McQueen was back at his side, and the gorge was closing in on them.
It was probably wide and deep, but Chick was too busy trying to temper the pain that was throbbing incessantly in his engine. It was unbearable, but slowing would be suicide.
As if this wasn't.
"Chick-Chick will we make it?" McQueen was yelling through the noise.
Glancing at him through the dust, Chick easily saw the blind fear in McQueen's eyes. It almost annoyed him; McQueen was supposed to be a swaggering confident show-off, and he was supposed be determined and positive he could jump the gorge.
It was crazy; he wanted McQueen to be confident. He needed him to be!
"McQueen; you can jump it! Don't you remember? You said you could-"
"-I was probably wrong! What do I know-"
"I know you can jump it!"
The ground was grinding their tires, and stones flitted by at dangerous speed. The jitter and tremble of Chick's engine told him he wouldn't get any faster than this. But when he looked at McQueen he knew that his engine could go a little faster. He knew it better than anyone.
He dropped back.
"Chick, what-"
"Speed up, McQueen," he shoved the other car roughly in the rear. McQueen yelped his surprise but didn't slow.
Chick was only pleased about it, even as he was left to navigate his way through the dust left behind, and to hear the bikers getting closer and closer. They were deafening and he was slowing.
He'd known he would.
"Looks like you beat me, McQueen!" he yelled above the wretched noise.
"What?" McQueen's voice was drowned out by engine, and Chick supposed his own was.
All that was left was to keep driving. He wasn't scared; he was never scared when he was moving fast. And so what if McQueen beat him.
So what.
He realised he didn't care anymore. Right in this moment it just didn't matter. Things were trivial and meaningless when you were just about to jump a gorge. It was probably too late to realise these things now, though.
The gorge stretched out before them, the dark pit before safety. A sort of division between heaven and hell. And then Chick saw McQueen fly off into the air. The sun streamed across his bonnet, and he looked like a flash of crimson in the bright sky.
It wasn't like slow-motion, but there was a definite pause for clarity when Chick saw that. He had the time to consider whether McQueen would make it or not, and then hope and pray that he would.
McQueen hit the other side of the gorge with a crunch and a cheer.
Chick was still caught in his moment of relief before he found himself scooting through the air too.
Before he began to fall he knew he wouldn't make it. He'd known from the moment he'd suggested it.
It wasn't scary. He couldn't guess how deep the gorge was; he couldn't even see to look down. He kept his eyes on the brightness above, and was only unsettled when he saw Lightning's face, eyes wide and mouth twisted in horror.
It was the last thing he saw before darkness covered him.
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Somehow it didn't seem to be happening.
This wasn't how it was all supposed to happen. The gorge was black and swallowing, but Lightning could easily see the twist of green glinting some metres below. It was still and quiet and he knew it would not move.
It didn't stop him from shouting;
"Chick! Chick! Oh-"
His voice bounced about the gorge uselessly, and jeering curses joined it. Lightning looked up to see two bikers on the other side of the gorge, glaring and defeated. Behind them was Dolpha, who just looked disappointed.
"You got away," his gravelly voice easily carried across the length of the gorge, "you got lucky, that's all. But you won't track us down again so easy,"
Lightning didn't care about tracking down criminal trucks and bikers. His eyes just stung and blind red fury caught his tongue;
"Lucky? You think we're lucky?" he almost veered and tipped his front tires over the gorge, for one second wishing he was back on the other side, wishing he could bash into the glaring bikers and the smug truck that had ruined everything.
They laughed but Lightning barely heard them. He watched a trail of stones and dirt fall into the gorge and didn't think on it anymore. He maneuvered forwards, and let his tires tip over the edge.
"He's crazy!" one of the biker's cried.
"He's committing suicide!"
Lightning tilted down a little more; his suspension jiggered and wary tires felt sore against the uneven rocks. But he kept moving, praying that gravity might be gentle with him as his nose touched stone. He was horizontal in the air, but he hadn't fallen yet.
He wasn't really thinking about the prospect of falling, anyway. His eyes stayed on the piece of green which was so far below. If he kept focused on it he didn't feel frightened. He just felt angry and determined.
"Stupid...stupid car...Stupid...stupid..."
He couldn't understand why Chick might have done what he did. Stupid and pointless and it made Lightning feel sick to his gut.
"Stupid!" he yelled at the rocks around him; and his voice bounced around the uneven walls and made things crumble. Lightning didn't care, and he was oblivious to it. He just kept rolling, his engine muted.
The bottom of the gorge was uncomfortable and spiky, and Chick was tilted on his side. Something was leaking away from him and there were fumes, emitting a terrible burning.
Lightning remembered the hazards of approaching a badly damaged car. First aid and general safety were something of a must when you were in the racing industry. He'd been told plenty of times by Mac that you should be careful about approaching some poor guy who'd crashed and sprung a leak. Explosions mostly happened.
Lightning didn't care about any of that now.
He rolled precariously to the green car's side; Chick was facing away from him and his upper tires were still rolling slowly round and round. His bonnet was hanging open but Lightning couldn't look at it.
"Chick?" he whispered. He hesitated to catch the other car's front. He guessed he was too frightened to see what might be true.
"...No," Lightning rolled round to properly look. "please don't…Chick-"
He shook his head viciously and blinked away wetness when he set eyes on Chick's.
The other car's windshields fluttered, and opened.
"…McQueen," Chick murmured.
He tried to move, his upturned undercarriage juddering and leaking more oil.
"Ssh, don't," Lightning rolled a little more forwards, and nudged his wrecked front gently. "Just don't move. You're gonna be okay,"
What a stupid thing to say, Lightning realised, as soon as it had left his mouth.
Chick probably thought the same. His mouth curled into a smile when he blinked at Lightning.
"...knew you'd jump it,"
Then he closed his eyes, his suspension seeming to sink against the rocks into stillness.
"Chick-" Lightning was shaking; his mind felt clouded and numb. He nudged the other car again. "Don't...please..."
He barely heard the clapping blades of helicopters above him, and the flashing shower of photographers within them. He didn't even feel the oil pooling around his tires.
He curved against the green car, trying to detect a thrum of life.
Too much had happened, and Chick needed to be alright.
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