Bullets rained from above as a dark shape went streaking overhead at high speed. Chick screamed as several bullets deflected off his hood and bit into the dirt around him. He flinched and pulled the trigger. The projectile missed McQueen by mere inches and exploded against Willys Butte. Large chunks of rock fell as the fiery inferno dissipated.
Lightning wanted so badly to escape, but his body wouldn't react. Drive! Drive you idiot! His mind raced. It couldn't escape the sight of the barrel that had been pointed at his hood. He saw the bullets tearing at the ground around Chick. Chick had tried to kill him - kill him! Now someone was trying to kill Chick? What?
Chick instinctively snapped his attention to the enemy in the sky. The black flyer was mid-bank, turning around to fly back at him. The early morning sunlight glinted off the gun barrels extending from either side of the fighter. Chick took aim and waited.
"You," Hicks growled as one of his long forgotten enemies lined up for another strike. "Where's your friend?"
Strip righted himself as he bore down on Chick a second time. It had been too close. If he'd shown up a second later, McQueen would've been a goner. This was no time for narrow escapes. He had to get Lightning clear of the situation.
Krakakakakakak. He fired another set of rounds at Chick. These bullets wouldn't penetrate the Buick's armor, but they would penetrate rubber, and that would slow him down. In a few seconds, Hick's right two tires looked like they'd gone through a shredder. Bmpsssshhhh. Chick fired another short-range missile. Strip corkscrewed around it.
Click. The sound snapped Lightning's attention from the inbound – what was it? A car? A plane? Both? – back to Chick. Hicks frowned and shook the weapon he wielded. Click. Chick swore. He hit the gun again, but to no avail. It was jammed. Lightning watched in horror as his rival's left front fender folded away to reveal a smaller counterpart weapon. A backup.
Chick aimed to the sky once again, but before pulling the trigger thought better of himself. Chrysler's fighters couldn't pierce his armor. He knew that. They knew that. His job was to take out McQueen. McQueen was still sitting there, mere yards away, frozen like a statue. Chick lowed his gun and returned to his original target.
Strip pushed himself. Chick took aim. Strip saw the trigger pull as he pushed himself into the space between the two cars on the ground. A deafening blast hit him square in the side as he intercepted the shot. He yelled in pain, but didn't feel the telltale signs of internal damage. The new panels must have worked.
Chick limped backwards in surprise as the jet reeled back and regained its composure. They hadn't been able to do that before – had they? Chick watched in growing uneasiness as his enemy came to a halt nearby, rotated the secondary engines, and returned to hover in front of him, blocking a clear shot to McQueen. Dust filled the air as the force from the jet engines pushed against the ground.
Strip watched as Chick slowly backed away. There was fear in his eyes, but also rage. It was a deadly combination. Strip took aim at the larger gun and let loose another round of shots. The mangled piece of metal fell harmlessly to the ground. Chick's gaze settled somewhere in the middle distance.
"Kid, what're you doin' sittin' there?" Strip turned slightly to look at Lightning, half hidden in the cloud of dust he was kicking up. "Get out of here! Drive!"
"Huh?" Lightning looked up at the hovering fighter, shaking.
"Go," Strip told him in a gentler tone, pleading with him and speaking only loud enough to be heard above the roaring winds keeping him afloat. "Drive, and whatever you do, don't stop. Now!"
Lightning blinked a few times and looked around. Right. Drive.
"Go on!"
Lightning pulled himself together. Drive. He revved his engine, missed first gear and took off in second toward town. He felt like something was chasing him, something deadly, but unlike in a nightmare, this was real.
Chick had tried to kill him.
And why did that other thing's voice sound so familiar?
Strip positioned himself in front of Chick as Lightning headed for the hills, and settled on the ground, switching his engines off. Chick looked at his tattered weapon and growled.
"Just can't leave well enough alone, can you?" Chick asked. "Well, in case you forgot what happened last time up in Michigan – "
Strip clenched his teeth and fought the urge to end things right then and there. His vision blurred as his anger escalated. Chick's weak spots were his fenders where the guns were exposed. He could easily shoot through the open space and render his life-long rival's engine obsolete. Death would come quickly after that.
No. Watch yourself. That isn't you. Don't do somethin' you'll regret.
Instead, Strip pointed his own weapons at Chick, keeping silent but edging toward him. He still had the advantage. Chick didn't know who he was or of what he was truly capable. Intimidation tactics would work every bit as well as force as long as that held true.
Chick backed away, wobbling on shredded tires, into a grove of cacti. He wanted to keep as much distance between them as possible. He'd been trained in long- to mid-range combat, not close-range. He stopped when he felt his back wheels slip off a ledge.
"Tryin' to corner me, I see what you're doin'," Chick said, unamused. He mentally kicked himself for being so foolish and unaware of his surroundings.
Strip stopped. In the distance, he could still hear Lightning's engine. The kid must have made it to town. That was safe enough a distance for now. Strip dropped one of the smaller airstrike missiles from underneath his right wing and tossed it toward the Buick.
Chick jumped back. The last time he'd seen one of those, the last of his minions had gone up in flames. He moved too far. Both rear wheels fell over the edge of the precipice, and he came to a rest on his undercarriage. There was nothing nearby to pull himself up with, and he had no idea how steep the drop was below. He started to panic.
Strip turned and hurriedly drove toward the track, gaining speed and pushing himself back into the air. He circled a few times over the track, gaining altitude and waiting for the bomb to go off.
It did, blowing a chunk out of the embankment and sending Chick over the edge. The Buick rolled a couple of times, but came to a rest right side up at the bottom of the forty-foot drop seemingly unharmed. That would do for now.
Lightning rocketed through town, frantically looking for his friends. Somewhere behind him, an explosion detonated. The ground tremored.
"What's goin' on, boy?"
Sheriff met Lightning on the road in front of Flo's. The officer's concern echoed across the faces of all the townsfolk as they rolled closer behind him. Doc pushed his way through and parked next to Sheriff, idling high.
"Talk, racecar," Doc ordered. "We heard gunshots. And whatever that just was."
Lightning's gaze drifted back toward the track. A plume of smoke rose through the air as that mysterious black plane rose above the horizon. The droning sound of its engines made the townsfolk uneasy.
"Uh, McQueen?" Mater asked, worried.
"We need to evacuate," Lightning found his voice. "Now – get everyone somewhere safe!"
A startled murmur rose from the café. Doc and Sheriff frowned, noticing the flying black shape over the track.
"Answer my question, kid," Sheriff demanded. "Are you hurt? Who fired those shots?"
"I'm fine," Lightning shook himself as panic emanated from him, " - wait, no, I'm not. Chick's on a rampage. Said he had to kill me."
"What?" several cars voiced simultaneously.
"I don't know!" Lightning responded. "But he's armed and dangerous, and I – "
Only then did it sink in just how close he came to being flat out murdered. A chill ran through his frame as he trailed off midsentence.
"What's that?" Doc asked, pointing at the sky behind the café.
"I don't know, but he saved my life," the racecar answered. "Took a hit for me and told me to get out of here. I don't understand what's – "
"Wait a second, soldier," Sarge cut into the conversation, squinting at the figure circling through the air. "I recognize that."
Everyone turned to look at the war veteran. Lightning took a brief moment to look across the faces of his friends and consciously appreciate them. However, in the midst of the chaos, something seemed to be missing.
Or someone.
"That's one of Chrysler's war machines," Sarge spat in disapproval. "I remember seeing footage of them. Caused almost as much political disruption as Vietnam."
"And then it went quiet," Sheriff recalled. "Stupid bit of conflict if you ask me."
"Guys?" Lightning asked in a stressed tone. "Where's Sally?"
Silence. Some of them exchanged glances. In the distance, another engine came to life.
"She went out for a drive this mornin'," Flo answered.
"I gotta find her and warn her," Lightning muttered, turning toward Cadillac Range. He knew she'd be at Wheel Well.
"Wait, wait, wait," Doc pulled out and stopped him. "Hold on a second there, hotrod. Ain't a one of us here that understands what's goin' on. Calm down and think. Panicking isn't gonna help us figure anything out."
"Doc, I need to find Sally," Lightning protested. "What if she's in danger?"
"You're the one in danger right now, by the sound of it, kid," Doc scowled. "You said Hicks tried to kill you? Why would he do that?"
"I don't know!" Lightning answered, irritated. "He said I didn't know who I was, or something like that. Started asking all these weird questions. And then he pulled a gun. That's all I know, I swear."
Doc glanced back at the sky above the track. Something wasn't adding up.
Lightning paused to think. Chick was only after him, that much was clear. If his rival wanted to take out the town, he could have done so already. The others weren't in danger as long as he distanced himself. Slowly, he backed away from Doc.
"Sarge, I trust you got plenty of munitions?" Lightning asked.
Sarge scoffed. "A surplus hut without self-defense weaponry? What kind of car do you think I am, rookie?"
"Good," Lightning nodded. "Make sure you're ready for the worst. Keep the town safe. I can't stay here and put you all in danger."
His tires squalled against the freshly paved road as he accelerated past Doc.
"Hey!" Doc lunged after him as if he could stop him. "Get back here!"
Lightning was already gone. As he disappeared around the corner before the courthouse, the rest of Radiator Springs remained motionless in front of Flo's. They had more questions than they started with, and more worry as well.
"What do we do, Doc?" Flo asked, looking down the road. The morning flow of traffic was coming in the distance.
Doc glanced down the road at the oncoming traffic, and then looked again to the sky. Whatever had been flying around the track was now so high he could barely make it out. He didn't trust it, not one bit. As the roar of Lightning's engine faded in the distance, another crept closer to town from out by Willys Butte. For the first time in years, Doc didn't know what to do. He looked at the residents. He'd never seen them so worried – upset even. He guarded his expression against his own uncertainty.
"Keep a watch out," he demanded. "Keep the town running, and don't let on like anything's happened. Sarge, I want you to be prepared in case that older racecar gets any big ideas. Everyone else, go about your business, but come to me if you notice anything off. We can't afford to be too cautious."
"What about McQueen?" Mater asked, bothered.
Doc gazed off in the direction he'd gone. "I dunno, Mater. Say a prayer for him, I guess. Hopefully he's smart enough to stay in the clear until we can do something."
"Alright, everyone," Sheriff commanded everyone's attention, "do as he says. Get your shops opened up. Be wary, but be hospitable."
Reluctantly, they did as they were told. Within minutes, the town was busy as ever. Doc kept watch from a bay at Flo's. Sheriff approached him after pacing a couple times through town.
"I don't like it, Doc, not at all," Sheriff said quietly. "We need to do something."
"I don't like it either, Sheriff," Doc returned just as quietly. "But what can we do? We can't jump into something blind. If Hicks has lost his mind, we'll jail him. Figure things out from there. Otherwise wait and see what plays out. The kid's long gone by now. He's safe."
"For now," Sheriff agreed halfheartedly. "I'm still worried about the town. What if there's a hostage situation?"
"Like I said, we'll deal with it when the time comes," Doc repeated. "I know it feels like we're just sittin' around doing nothing, but right now it's our only option."
Sheriff grunted and turned toward the road again. Around the side of the café, the sound of metal scraping against pavement forced its way into town. Everyone stopped and turned to look at who was making that unholy sound.
Chick rolled slowly into view covered in dirt, cactus shrapnel, and scorch marks. Any rubber that at one time separated his wheels from the ground was simply gone. He stopped at the caution light and saw the entire town staring at him.
"What's a guy gotta do to get some tires around here?"