And they were off! Mike slammed his foot down on the gas and the car jumped forward like a feral beast. Claire was pushed back into Chuck's chest, the buckle from his restraints dug into the center of her spine and she had to work hard to make sure the back of her head didn't slam into his nose. Everything followed the pull of inertia - except for her traitorous stomach which seemed to be trying to make its way up her throat.
"Speed much?" she squeaked as soon as she got her insides under control.
Mike's hands were loose on the wheel and an easy smile on his face. "Not even close to that yet. Gotta lighten up a little, Claire."
"Hey! I'm the one without a seat belt here!"
His only response was to speed up and change the subject.
"Alright Chuckles, we're gonna need a little more information on these bad boys."
"On it!" Chuck said, his voice close behind her.
Claire nearly jumped when his forearms rubbed against her ribs as his pale hands extended in front of her, typing frantically at a keyboard, in a strange sort of backwards, almost-hug. He craned his neck to see around the back of her head and for a second she could feel the length of his jaw rub against her ear. Her grip on the overhead handle tightened.
"Okay, let's see..." Chuck said absentmindedly as he scrolled though page after page of thermal readings and radio frequency data. "Well, they're definitely Kane-bots of some kind. A bunch of them. Real weird looking though, and fast too..." he trailed off.
He squinted at a readout that flashed by faster than Claire could read. "Wait. This looks familiar," Chuck brought up another screen and hit a few more keys. Two complicated and rather beautiful waveforms appeared side by side, before sliding over each other and flashing lime green: a perfect match. "We've fought these things before, Mikey! They're just modified scraper drones!"
"Good work, buddy; send that out to rest of the gang. Looks like Kane's getting lazy. Well, we beat them once, we can do it again!" Mike pushed the accelerator further into the floorboards.
Claire was now coming to the horrifying realization that Mike had been taking it easy when she had ridden with him in Deluxe.
The scenery was rushing past the window faster than she could take it in. It was all a confusing jumble that disappeared in an instant. She saw massive flipped tank covered in glowing graffiti; speeding through a tunnel there was the eerie shine of hundreds of eyes reflecting Mutt's headlights in the darkness; confusingly, she registered a flash of a massive, ten-story-high car tire, half-buried in mud.
That last one could have been a stress induced hallucination, though.
"We can't see them yet, Mike, but the computer says the 'bots are close," Chuck warned in a nerves-strangled voice.
Mike cranked the wheel hard and they turned down another ancient side road. This one was even more obscure than the last and it was strewn with garbage and rubble. The car shook as it ran over the debris of generations, and through the immutable laws of physics each trash filled pothole and chunk of loose cement sent Claire bouncing and sliding over the front of Chuck's jeans.
If this guy gets a boner, Claire thought, that's it, I'm jumping out the window.
Fortunately for everyone involved, Chuck seemed to find bone-chilling terror a bit of a mood killer.
Claire guessed that it could have been worse. She could be stuck on Texas's lap, god forbid.
At just that moment Texas's icon cube materialized on the dash. Speak of the devil.
"What's taking you guys so long?" he asked. In the background, Julie and Dutch popped in to join the conversation.
"Hey Texas, we're coming fast - shouldn't be too long before we see you," Mike said.
"Texas's fists are getting antsy for punching robot face."
Texas's cartoon eyes turned in the direction of the passenger seat. "Hey Chuck, get your sweetie's hair out of your face and tell me the ETA for these things. Texas actually needs your nerd skills right now."
Chuck went into his usual blushing and stammering routine at the word 'sweetie', but Claire ignored it. She was finding that ignoring some things might be key if she and Chuck were to have a working relationship.
"Uh, excuse me? This "sweetie" can see the screens just fine. The estimated time of arrival on the 'bots is two minutes and thirty eight seconds - and we're only about ten seconds ahead of them. Thanks for asking," Claire said icily. She would have folded her arms across her chest if she didn't need them to maintain her death grip on the seat. She settled on a good glare instead.
"Wow Texas, you really have a way with the ladies." Dutch apparently couldn't resist a jab.
Julie's avatar rolled her eyes. "Who even cares about that right now? Did we all forget about the swarm of flying robots headed straight for us? Pretty sure they all got some lasers we should be worried about."
Claire felt a swell of friendship towards Julie, despite being pissed that if it wasn't for her Claire wouldn't be down here in the first place.
"Yeah, what the hell are we going to do about these robots? Giant explosions are a given, of course, but still," Texas said.
Mike was ready for the question. "Actually, I think our resident genius engineer can help us out with that. Dutch, you still have that part, right?"
Mike swerved violently around a crackling piece of debris kicked up by an exploding transformer. Claire's nails dug into seat and Chuck whimpered in her ear.
"Yep," Dutch's avatar hovered over the dash, "I got it. Grabbed it on my way out the door. Problem is: it's only Mutt-compatible at this point."
"So we make the trade at the rendezvous point," Mike said, cool as ever.
"We got like, no time bro!" Chuck said, his fingers scrolling through the figures that glowed on the screen near Claire's cheek, "As soon as we stop moving these things are gonna be on us instantly."
"Well Burners, looks like we'll have to do this one manually." Mike didn't look put-out about this development at all.
Chuck let out another whimper that Claire could feel emanating from his chest more than she could hear it. She frowned. Okay, what does he mean by 'manual', and why is it bad?
Mike began to roll down the passenger side window.
"Oh hell no."
-
"Aw, c'mon Claire," Mike said using his best gentle leader voice, "you're the only one who's in the right position to-"
"Mike, if you want me to do this, you'll put yourself in the right position to shut your mouth right now," Claire was too scared to care that her quip didn't make much sense as she shakily balanced on her knees on Chuck's lap. "And Julie, I just want you to know one thing: I hate you. I hold you responsible for this and I'm going to hate you forever."
Julie's avatar had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry about this, Claire! Next meal is on me, I promise. And then after we can go to that new cosmetic cube that just opened in sector Pontiac Premium."
"Better," Claire mumbled. She took a deep, calming breath (that did absolutely nothing) and then finished rolling down the window.
"Uh, don't worry," Chuck yelled over the roar of the wind, obviously not very practiced at calming someone else down, "I got you. I'll hold on to your legs, if, you know, you're cool with that?"
It was by far the best thing Chuck had ever said to her. "Yes! Do it," Claire grabbed Chuck's shoulder with one hand and pushed his bangs away from his face with the other. She looked him straight in the eye - he needed to remember this part. "Do not let go."
Chuck swallowed hard.
Claire ignored the catcall coming from the direction of Texas' avatar. Quickly, before she lost her nerve, Claire shoved her upper body out of the window and into the whipping wind.
The noise was unbelievable. She could hear nothing over the roar of the engine and the rushing gale. It was hard to even think straight in these conditions.
With eyes watering from the wind, she peered into the dimness. Where was Dutch? But the moment the thought crossed her mind she saw a blur off to the side - a blur that soon resolved into the sleek, glowing lines of Whiptail.
Thank god.
Dutch sidled up next to Mutt, carefully edging closer and closer. The movement was surprisingly dainty for a car that was going over four hundred miles per hour. Once the cars were maybe five feet apart Dutch matched speed and held steady as he rolled down the window. His familiar face appeared, tinted violet from the interior lights. She was close enough to see the faint outlines of a daredevil smile. What the hell was wrong with all these Burners?
Dutch made eye contact and then nodded at her. Claire nodded back; talking was impossible at this speed. He fiddled with something off to his side for a second, and then extended his left arm out the window with the part. It wasn't big, maybe the size of a grapefruit. Its forest green surface was polished to a mirror.
Claire leaned out even further and reached for the machine. She could feel Chuck's arms around her thighs anchoring her to the car. She hoped her knees weren't digging into his legs too badly (and tried to forget the fact that her ass was probably straight up in his face). Her muscles strained as she resisted the wind that tried to push her hand off target and stretched her arm out further.
So close. She could see the reflection of her fingers in the curved metal -
BOOOOOOOOM!
The space between Whiptail and Mutt suddenly exploded into a mess of toxic colors and concussive waves. Claire's side was knocked into the window frame and her ears rang. All she could see was the after-image of the explosion glowing pink and green; she didn't know which way was up. Still half-in half-out of the car, she could feel herself sliding, but which direction? If she fought this movement, would she just be pushing herself out of the car? Her hands slipped across Mutt's perfectly buffed surface.
Then Chuck gave her waist a tremendous tug and she tumbled back into Mutt, her head spinning.
"Oh my god! Claire, are you okay?! Are you hurt?!" Chuck's hands were tight on her shoulders.
She blinked hard several times, trying to make her eyes acclimate to the relative dimness of Mutt's interior. Slowly, the blurry lights dissipated from her vision and she could make out Chuck's worried face peering intently at her's, bangs brushed aside.
"What the hell happened?" Claire coughed out.
Mike was the one who answered. "Those bots finally caught up to us. Kane must've upgraded their weapons systems as well as the propulsion."
Claire twisted around and peered out the rear window. Sure enough, there they were. The Kane-bots were deceptively skinny, like a swarm of giant crane flies. Their gunmetal grey skins were shiny and grossly organic. On the forward tip of their mostly cylindrical bodies each one had a dim red light, like a searching eye. Claire turned back in her seat, away from the machines. They looked so totally dangerous.
Mike's face had turned hard.
"We gotta shake these things," he said.
The next two minutes were absolutely ridiculous and, frankly, Claire blocked them out of her memory. Because fuck that.
The only thing that stopped Claire from barfing during this demonstration of Mike Chilton's unbelievable driving skills was the vague idea that this wasn't even the worst of it and that she should save that reaction for later.
By the time Mike finally stopped the evasive maneuvers and slowed to their previous speed it was impossible to tell Chuck's full-body fear shakes from Claire's own.
"You ready to try again?" Mike said encouragingly.
Claire looked over at him. His hands were tight on the wheel; but his eyes were bright and he was fighting down a smile.
What a douche. But she could see why Chuck and Julie followed him.
"Alright, where's Dutch - let's get this over with," Claire huffed.
Mike let his smile blossom.
Claire rolled down the window and the wind immediately pounded her in the face, but this time she was prepared. She leaned out the window without hesitation and braced herself against the wind. Dutch was there in an instant. Whiptail had a big black streak of carbon residue covering half the driver's side, but it was still moving. Claire nervously glanced up at the domed sky - still clear.
The part glinted in Dutch's hand. Claire reached out again, straining against gravity and Chuck's warm, iron grip. Finally she grabbed it, the transfer going perfectly smooth. Dutch gave her a good-luck wave and pulled away. There was nothing more he could do. Not much more Claire could do either, except pass this along to someone who knew what to do with it. She shimmied her way back into the car and shoved the part into Chuck's hand (maybe a little harder than she needed to). "All you jerks totally owe me."
"Uh huh," said Mike distractedly as he glanced at the rear view mirror. He sped up.
Chuck's legs shifted underneath her and Claire turned back towards him instinctively. He was leaning forwards a little and his mouth was pulling back at the edges into a vague sort of wince. He looked embarrassed.
"Uh, are you okay?" Oh god, Claire thought, was it boner time now and she hadn't even noticed?
"I'm gonna need to hook this up over by the dashboard, and, er, it might be a little close. Close quarters," Chuck waved his hands in the direction of their feet. He was getting agitated. "Sorry! I know it's weird! But that's the only place that has the interface that I need to hook the part up and -"
"Okay! Hey, whatever, it's fine!" Claire interrupted. She kind of wanted to give him a pat of reassurance on his shoulder. Nah, then she'd be the one making this weird.
Claire scooted over to the edge of Chuck's lap as best she could and he leaned over to get to the underside of the dash. His long body was folded double and his chest pressed into her knees and thighs. He didn't waste any time tearing open a section of hidden paneling beneath the dash and pulling out a whole heap of wires. His elbows brushed against her calves as he worked and his chest and belly breathed against her lap. She resisted the urge to squirm. Damn, this was weird. He tapped the pointed end of one wire against the mysterious green part and it opened like a flower, revealing about a hundred separate ports and buttons and tiny readout screens. Shit. That looked like it was going to take forever to get hooked up.
And they definitely didn't have forever. The car lurched to the side as a laser blast created an instant giant pothole for the right front wheel. Guess the Kane-bots were back. Mike managed to avoid the next couple of shots by making Mutt practically pirouette around the corner, but they couldn't be lucky enough to miss every shot forever. The car accelerated even faster in a desperate bid to get out of the line of fire. Chuck was letting out a high-pitched litany near her knees that wavered between undecipherable programming talk and animal-sounding whines. Claire's heartbeat pounded loud in her ears.
Then: "Hit that button over there!"
It took Claire a second to realize that this was actually directed at her. Surprise managed to cut through the cloud of adrenaline in her veins. Was Chuck actually managing to talk to her like a normal person? She looked over at the holoscreen to her left and saw the big, blinking orange button.
Without hesitation Claire slammed her hand down on the button with all the force she could muster.
For a moment it seemed like nothing had happened. Chuck scrambled up back into their previous sitting position and snapped into his harness. Mutt still careened wildly along the narrow road and the drones still bore down on them in the rear view mirror like nightmare hornets. Then, she saw one of the Kane-bots wobble, just a little.
The next few seconds were filled with explosion after explosion as the whole swarm of bots plummeted out of the sky at once. The car rocked with each impact and the tires squealed as they bounced on an off the road. The entire windshield was dominated by nothing but fire, arcing blue electricity, and noxious black smoke.
Mike had to execute another neck-breaking swerve to avoid the falling chunks of metal, but Claire found that she wasn't too bothered by that now. She even found herself relaxing back into Chuck's shaking chest; finally this stupid ordeal was over-
Every thought was run out of her head as the world turned into nothing but deafening noise and force. The last drone had tumbled out of the sky and, with the luck of the devil, exploded next to Mutt's rear wheels in a devastating glancing blow.
Every holoscreen and emergency light in the vehicle flashed a terrible red while garbled automated warnings came from the speakers. The glow from the lights highlighted Mike's clenched jaw as he furiously worked the wheel, futilely trying to gain some semblance of control. The screech of metal on metal coming from the back underbelly of the car made it sound like the whole world was screaming.
Then they went off the road.
It was not quite a cliff, but the hill was way too steep for driving. Mutt was completely beyond controlling at that point and the car half-fell half-bounced its way over eroded soil and jagged pieces of cement. Claire's shoulder slammed into the window; the next furrow in the earth sent her knees into the dash.
Chuck's long arms wrapped around her like a seat belt; one looping around her waist and the other across her chest with his hand grasping her shoulder. He held her so tight.
This would, of course, do less than jack shit for Claire if they actually did crash going three hundred miles per hour, but later on when she thought back to this moment she appreciated the gesture.
For now, though, it was all just a bunch of panicked yelling.
Then through the cracked windshield Claire saw something worse. Fucking unbelievable. The slope suddenly ended. There was a drop-off up ahead. It was impossible to tell if the fall would be ten feet - or a hundred.
No more time to think. The bone-deep rattling suddenly ceased as Mutt sailed over the edge, free from the earth. Chuck and Claire's screams harmonized in one long, ear-shattering song of abject terror as Mutt plummeted to the streets below.
Until she opened her eyes, Claire wasn't even sure if she was still alive.
Scratch that. Even after she had blinked a couple times she still wasn't sure, because why would real life be filled with dozens of giant marshmallows?
Alright, after a couple more blinks she realized that she hadn't died and gone to candyland heaven. What she her brain had first absurdly interpreted as marshmallows were actually scores of inflated airbags covering every available surface. They had probably saved her life.
A sudden movement made her look over look over to her left. Mike was gingerly rubbing his collarbone where it looked like the seat belt had dug into him hard at a bad angle. Other than that he seemed fine. She twisted around as best she could to try and get a look at Chuck.
"Chuckles, man, are you okay?" Mike said, doing the work of asking for her.
He was sitting ramrod straight and stock still, except for the the quick rise and fall of his chest. So quick, in fact, that it looked like he was edging into hyperventilation territory. Despite sitting squarely in his lap, she was a little afraid to touch him.
"Chuck?" she said softly.
Chuck let out a high pitch giggle. A good chunk of her worry melted into annoyance and Claire glared at him over her shoulder. Was this jerk actually laughing after they had all almost died?
He slapped a hand over his mouth, but that didn't stop his chest from shaking against Claire's back as he tried to hold it in. Then he couldn't stand it anymore and let out a full-throated (though slightly hysterical) laugh.
Despite herself, she found herself giggling along. It was kind of funny. They were alive! She had been shot at, Mutt was totaled, her shoulder was aching, and her hair was all sorts of messed up, but they were alive!
In another second they were both laughing like idiots in what was left of the passenger seat while Mike good-naturedly rolled his eyes.