Chapter Ninety-six

Built for Speed

"I gotta hand it to you, Trini," Hayley said. "I'm impressed. This door is—"

"Could we stop talking about how cool the door is?" Tommy shouted. He was royally freaking out. Kimberly was still sobbing, but not hard enough that she wouldn't be able to beat the living stuffing out of him if he tried to hug her, and he'd been trying to concentrate on what Billy, Trini and Hayley were talking about to drown out Kimberly and ended up listening to a bunch of blather about how well-made Tommy's deathtrap was.

Just then, two pairs of feet pounded down the stairs. Billy, Trini and Hayley gratefully dropped their tools and turned to greet Ethan and Conner.

"Okay," Ethan called, jumping the last few stairs. "I've got good news and bad news."

"I changed the ink cartridge all by myself," Conner added proudly.

Ethan sighed long-sufferingly. "The bad news is, most of the digestive problems dogs have are chronic, products of serious illnesses, or caused by allergies. Unless you know what your dog's allergic to, we're not going to figure it out for ourselves."

"Dogs are allergic to chocolate," Conner said importantly. "My mom got really upset when Eric and I gave the neighbor's Chihuahua this German cake with chocolate-covered—"

"Feeding a dog too much chocolate can make it dangerously ill," Ethan interrupted irritably. "Or kill it."

"Oh." Conner paused, looking down at his feet and clearing his throat. Then he brightened. "I changed the ink cartridge all by myself!"

"The directions were embossed on the printer, you idiot!" Ethan half-shouted.

"Well, still!"

"And the old cartridge was half full!"

"So what?"

"And—"

"AHEM!" Trini fairly screamed.

"Sorry," Ethan said sheepishly. "Habit. Um… mostly, dogs get diarrhea from sudden diet changes, ingesting certain toxic things, or allergies. But if we try to give him something, he'll probably just get really sick. Oh, um, but the good news is, the average meal takes only seven to ten hours to pass through a dog's digestive tract. That's way better than a human.

"SEVEN TO TEN HOURS?" Tommy exploded.

"Well, it's already been awhile since we put you in there," Ethan said hastily.

There was silence for a moment. Then—

"SEVEN TO TEN HOURS?" Tommy repeated.

"I still changed the ink cartridge," Conner muttered.

"Yes, Conner, you did. It was very good for a first try," Ethan said, struggling to sound patient as he clapped Conner (a little too hard, but still comfortingly enough) on the shoulder. "Anyway, if he doesn't pass the key in the next few days, you can get it surgically removed."

"Surgically removed?" Trini repeated in horror.

"DAYS?" Tommy screamed, loud enough to echo. "Oh, Conner, Ethan, I swear, when I get out of here I'm going to make you pay for this, make you pay a lot, you'll wish you'd never heard of Angel Grove by the time I'm through with you—"

Conner pouted. Ethan patted him on the back. "Don't worry, Conner. He's the one who put a sinkhole at the entrance to his secret lab escape tunnel. And you were just trying to help. We'll look back on this and laugh, Conner. Who knows, maybe this will even work out all right."

"Ya think?" Conner asked hopefully.

"NO!" Tommy bellowed.

"I'm sure of it," Ethan lied.

"I've got the chainsaw!" came Jason's voice from upstairs. They could hear him running for the basement.

"Oh, that's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," Trini breathed in relief.

"Really?" Conner frowned. "And I thought Kira was a scary girl sometimes."

Jason stumbled down the stairs, his sagging pants making walking difficult and the fact that he was holding a chainsaw preventing him from fixing them. He rushed over to Trini; Conner and Ethan backpedaled quickly to get out of his way.

"You hear that, Kim? They've got a chainsaw. Soon we'll get out of here. …Please stop crying, please?"

"Jason, you shouldn't walk around with unfastened pants when you're holding a saw," Trini admonished, pulling them back up his hips for him and zipping them up properly.

"Yeah, well, I shouldn't be singing Bryan Adams songs on our neighbor's porch to barter for power tools, either," Jason replied sarcastically. Trini raised an eyebrow at him; Billy, Hayley, Conner and Ethan were also staring. Jason appeared not to notice, though after a moment he frowned and said, "Okay, I'm gonna sing a few bars, and I want you to tell me if I sound like a dying cat, okay?"

"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" Tommy roared.

"Okay, okay," Jason muttered. He nodded at Trini and mouthed, "Later."

Trini carefully took the saw from him and turned towards the closet. Billy turned to Jason. "Jase?"

"Yeah?"

"Bryan Adams?"

"Give me a break, man. It was the first thing that popped into my head. Tanya sang it at our wedding."

"Oh-kay."

Trini, who'd already taken time to get her protective helmet and gloves from the garage, handed the chainsaw to Hayley and started to outfit herself. Hayley opened the case and stared down at the chainsaw, awed. "Is this a Husqvarna 357XP?"

Trini nodded, her eyes sparkling. "You bet it is. Professional grade. Four-point-four-peak-horsepower, baby. Cylinder displacement of three-point-four-five cubic inches and a fuel tank volume of one-point-four-four pints. Side-mounted chain tensioner, snap-lock cylinder cover, combined choke/stop control, air filter with bayonet fitting, adjustable oil pump, rubber suspension, wrought three-piece crankshaft and twenty-inch bar length."

"Oh, I've always wanted one of these," Hayley breathed.

"It's beautiful," Billy agreed.

"This baby's got it all," Trini said reverently. "High power, low weight, killer acceleration, incredible ergonomics and minor vibration." She hefted it in a distinctly creepy manner and flipped the visor down on her helmet. "And it came with free leather gloves."

"Ooh," Hayley and Billy chorused like children admiring the karate-chop action on their friend's new action figure.

"Trini, baby, I love you, but sometimes you really scare the crap out of me," Jason said matter-of-factly.

Trini laughed. "It's a nerd thing, honey. You wouldn't understand."

"Plenty of nerds don't gush about chainsaws," Jason pointed out.

"How would you know? You're the jock. I'm the nerd," Trini retorted playfully.

"You're not a nerd," Billy told Trini.

"Am too!"

"You are not. I am, but you're not."

"Must we resort to labeling?" Tommy demanded, wondering why he was still in the closet if they had a freaking chainsaw already.

"I am too!" Trini and Billy had had this argument many times before. Billy refused to believe that anyone as popular and socially adept as Trini was technically able to classify themselves as a nerd. Trini liked to point out that just because she had a lot of tricky psychology skills didn't mean she wasn't a dork deep down.

"I'm definitely a nerd," Hayley threw in.

"Welcome to the club." Billy smiled warmly at her.

"Billy, I am so a nerd!" Trini insisted, stomping her foot.

"Could you get me out of here, please?" Tommy whined.

"Oh, shut up, Tommy. Listen, I have a chainsaw, and I say I'm a nerd!"

"You're my nerd," Jason said, nodding as though everything made perfect sense and shooting Billy a rather triumphant look.

"Aw, honey, that's so sweet," Trini cooed. She leaned over to give him a quick kiss at an odd angle, careful to keep the chainsaw away from her friends. Conner and Ethan exchanged nervous glances and, as one, started to edge back towards the stairs.

"Okay," Trini said. "You guys might want to get out of the basement, or at least cover your ears. Tommy, Kim, get away from the door and put your fingers in your ears."

"Oh!" Jason exclaimed. "By the way, once you get them out, we're probably going to have to pick a tree in the backyard, push it over onto the roof, and then chop it up with the chainsaw. Just in case. And we might want to draw some paw prints in mud on the roof."

Hayley, Billy, Trini, Conner and Ethan stared at him.

Trini shrugged. "Okay. Anything else?"

"Mm, not that I can—oh, yeah! We might have to bust Kira and Zack out of jail for attempted bicycle theft and a couple other things. Or, um, at least post their bail."

"I'm never going on vacation again," Tommy muttered.

"Well, here's hoping keeping them out of jail will be easier than this." With that, Trini adjusted her twenty-four-decibel-blocking headphones and prepared to fire up the chainsaw.

Kira had never been so terrified in her life.

…Well, okay, that was a blatant lie. She'd been more terrified plenty of times. In fact, she was fairly certain that the most terrifying moment of her life had been the moment when Dr. O had gone onto Zeltrax's ship and then managed to blow it up from the inside, and for a few sickening minutes she'd thought Dr. O was dead. And there were numerous other times far more terrifying than what she was going through right now; that was part of being a Ranger. Still, this was definitely one of those moments that would, if she were someone else, be a perfect time to say "I've never been so terrified in my life."

She knew it shouldn't surprise her, but Zack had been able to find the toy section with frightening accuracy. (Conner and Ethan both had similar skills.) They'd both just grabbed the first available bikes they could find and started pedaling. So Zack was on a blue Huffy ten-speed mountain bike with tires that wouldn't have looked out of place on a motorcycle… and Kira was on a purple monstrosity, complete with pink stars painted all over it, shiny reflectors, a rubber horn, a banana seat, a white wicker basket covered in pink flowers, streamers, and a flag on the back. Its tires were white, the bell on the handlebars kept ringing itself, it was far too short for her and worst of all it had training wheels.

Steven and Jarel were still chasing them through Wal-Mart. Kira doubted the chase would ever end; Zack kept shouting out their turns, customers kept slowing them down and every so often they'd knock something over, so they were leaving a fairly obvious trail for the cops to follow when they happened to lag behind.

Kira knew she probably had more stamina than most people. After all, she worked out, and she was an ex-Ranger; she'd often noticed that even with her powers gone she seemed to be rather stronger than she was before she'd stumbled into Dr. O's basement. But she was tired, she was on a bicycle built for a seven-year-old, and it wasn't easy to pedal barefoot. (She was so writing the manufacturer when this was over.) And there wasn't exactly a good way to hide in Wal-Mart, especially when people kept gawking at them or shouting "They went THAT way!"

"Kira," Zack panted as they careened around another corner. "When I tell you to, I want you to dive off your bike and hide in those clothing racks dead ahead."

"Oh, no! I've had it with your plans, mister," Kira snapped.

"Trust me, okay? Just this once? When you're hidden, I'll take care of the cops."

"You're not going to hurt anyone, are you?" she demanded.

"Me? Of course not. Don't worry about it. I have a plan."

Don't do it, her survival instinct shouted. This is some harebrained scheme that's going to get you in even worse trouble!

Do you have a better plan? Kira shot back.

They passed the women's clothing racks, took a mad right turn that made one of Kira's training wheels leave the ground, and then Zack grabbed her handlebars and shouted, "GO!"

Kira dove off the bike without thinking, pulling herself into a shoulder roll and stopping in the midst of a bunch of clothing racks. Not wasting a second, she dove inside a rack of clearance-priced shirts with ugly patterns.

Zack held onto the bike for another twenty feet, then shoved it in the opposite direction that Kira had gone. Any luck, the cops would think she'd ditched the bike and hidden in a different department, or else made it to the front door and left the bike behind. Regardless, things were starting to look up. They'd lost Steven and Jarel three or four minutes ago, and Zack was starting to formulate several viable plans to get them out of here.

Then, just as he started to pass the electronics department, two bicycles swerved in from either side, hemming him in.

"I'm getting really sick of this city," Jarel growled at him.

"Look, guys, can't we talk about this?" Zack asked. He looked beseechingly at Steven… only to see Steven pull out his nightstick. Zack gulped as Steven leaned over and prepared to jam the stick into Zack's front tire.

Zack reacted instinctively, yanking back on the handlebars and shifting his weight until the front tire came off the ground. Steven cursed and Jarel ducked as Zack spun the bike around, let the front tire slam down, and began pedaling in the opposite direction. There was a screeching noise from behind him as Steven and Jarel turned, but a glance over his shoulder revealed that he'd gained a serious lead now. Their speed had carried them pretty far while Zack was turning.

Zack flipped open his cell phone and started scrolling through his contacts. After Tommy had decided that losing his shirt meant Zack and Conner should be pelted with canisters of Play-Doh, he and Conner had gotten to talking and Conner had passed along the Dino Rangers' phone numbers—including Kira's.

"Hello?" she whispered.

"It's me. Zack."

"Why are you calling me? You're going to give away my position! I nearly had a heart attack when my ringtone started blaring!"

"Look, I've got a plan. The cops have bicycles of their own and they're both chasing me. Run on out the front door and get back to the car. I keep a spare coat hanger taped under the rear bumper; all you have to do is get the trunk open and—"

"Zack, not only do I have no idea how to open a trunk with a coat hanger, but I think they called for backup. I can't make out too much from here, but there's a cop car with its lights on right in front of the doors. Can't you just morph? Tell them all the Rangers are handling it?"

"I left everything but my keys, phone, and Billy's card in the car. I don't even have my wallet. Which I guess is a good thing, since it means I don't have my ID…"

"You don't have your morpher? How is that a good thing?"

"Would have risked my identity anyway. I think Steven's on to something."

"Better than risking your criminal record!"

"Hey, at least my ID's in the car. He can't prove who I am. For the moment. And we haven't done anything except run from them."

"Last I checked, that wasn't strictly legal." Kira sighed. "Why did I ask Dr. O to bring me here?"

"Well, at least it isn't boring," Zack said cheerfully, glancing behind him to check the cops' progress.

"How does one break a chainsaw?" Conner asked curiously. He was standing in a huddle with Ethan, Jason, Billy, Hayley and Trini, who was nearly in tears.

"My baby," Trini moaned.

"No wonder he didn't want to give it back," Jason said darkly. "I have half a mind to go back over there and sing some death metal. Loudly."

"Well, hopefully Zack and Kira will return successful," Billy said.

Jason shook his head. "Last I talked to Zack, he was riding a somewhat-stolen bicycle around Wal-Mart and trying to ditch the cops. Even if he gets out of that okay, I told him I had Trini's chainsaw back, so he probably won't even try to buy one. And if he does, they probably won't let him."

"Do we… I can… we should… hmm," Hayley said thoughtfully.

"Face it," Jason said. "We're back at square one. No chainsaw, and even if we wait until the security features reset, we still have to get the damned door open. Maybe we can get the key removed—but come to think of it, the vet might refuse to operate until he's certain the key won't come out naturally."

"There has to be a way," Hayley insisted, her tone desperate. "There just has to be. It's a closet door."

"A closet door built by the best minds of three or four different superhero teams," Billy pointed out. "Thank god we didn't add actual traps. There was talk of a tear gas defense mechanism."

"Good to know," Tommy said bitterly from within the Chamber, over the sounds of Kimberly's persistent sniffling. "Could someone at least smack Conner for me or something?" There was a pause and a series of very loud yelps from Conner. "Thanks."

"From there, all we had to do was walk the power lines from the zoo down to Ashbury Avenue without falling off," Adam finished. He'd been relating the major events of his day to Carrie for so long that he'd actually had to plug his cell phone into the charger. Rocky had stumbled off to bed, and even though Adam had considered calling it a night several times since they'd arrived back at Rocky's, the more he talked to Carrie the more he wanted to talk. It was nice, even liberating, to tell someone about all of this, someone outside the Ranger circle. Someone who wasn't just amused but shocked and awed, who didn't have stories like this of their own. Carrie not only listened well, she asked great questions and did her best to sympathize and empathize, offering her own opinions without diminishing his.

"Walking power lines. You make it sound easy," she commented. He could hear another long burst of clicking from her keyboard's keys.

"Well, easier than the average person would find it, yeah, but it wasn't exactly simple. Especially not when we got past the parking lot and ran into a flock of crows."

"Murder of crows," Carrie told him. "Crow flocks are called 'murders.'"

"There's a reason for that. I thought Rocky was a goner."

She chuckled. "Anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Well, what was the rest of your week like?"

Adam snorted. "Well, we didn't even hook up with the guys until yesterday… you know, you'd think winning a fight against a gang of annoyed clowns would be easy, but let me tell you something, when a guy comes at you with flaming torches…"

Adam trailed off as a beep sounded. He checked his phone; a picture of Zack filled the screen and the words "Incoming Call—Zack" ran along the bottom. "Hang on a second; I've got another call."

"At three-thirty in the morning?" she asked.

"The fun never stops," he replied wryly, hitting the flash button. "Hello?"

"Adam, look, the guys are a little busy trying to spring Tommy and Kimberly out of the Secret Chamber, so I need you and Rocky to get your Zeonizers, think up a cover story to explain why two people might need a chainsaw in the middle of the night and feel the need to hop on bicycles to escape the cops, and come down to the Wal-Mart near Jason's house. Oh, and tell Rocky to disguise his voice." Adam stared blankly into space, then sighed deeply. "Thanks, man," Zack said, and hung up.

Adam clicked back over. "Carrie? I have to go."

"Oh," she said, sounding rather disappointed. "Well, that's okay. My boss just called, wants me to cover a hostage situation at a Wal-Mart, so—"

"Hostage situation?" Adam repeated, horrified.

"Something like that, yeah. Why, do you know anything about it?"

"I really hope not. I'll talk to you later, Carrie—duty calls." Adam snapped the phone closed, scooped up his Zeonizer, and rushed for Rocky's bedroom, hoping his next conversation with Carrie wouldn't be more interesting than the one he'd just had.