Naturally, the first place that Grant went was the Duke farm, instead of home to the Davenport farm. He and Tank had laughed the whole way out of town, offering each of their own mockeries of Boss Hogg. By the time they reached the Duke farm, they were so enraptured in laughter that Grant could hardly get enough words out to tell General his story.
After a few moments of this, General shifted on his suspension annoyedly and revved his engine loudly, trying to silence his brother. Grant let out a few more chortles before revving his engine as well and sighing.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm good now," Grant rumbled, giving a flick of his windshield wiper.
"What were you sayin'? Somethin' about the race and Boss Hogg," General led on.
Grant nodded, still giggling a bit. "Right, right. Sorry. Anyway, Hogg wants me to beat you in the race tomorrow, otherwise, he'll dismantle me."
General rumbled. "That's terrible, Grant, what the hell!"
"Hey, don't worry about it, that's why I came to you. How important is this race to you?"
General shook himself. "Not all that important I suppose but it's a charity race, lotta people are gonna be bettin' on me to win, orphanages and hospitals and schools need that money, Grant."
"We should at least come up with a plan."
"Of course…" General trailed off in thought, gaze drifting towards Thunder, who was standing idly by. "Hey, I got an idea."
"What is it?"
"What if neither of us won tomorrow?"
Grant shifted on his suspension. "I don't follow."
General gestured to Tank and Thunder. "Either one of y'all could win. Or Caleb. Or Diablo. Or Maiden. We can fix the race, like Boss did."
Tank rumbled and flexed his tires outwardly. "Aw, c'mon, General, look at us. We ain't like you."
Grant shook himself. "That's just it, Patroclus, no one's going to expect it."
Tank huffed at Grant's precarious pet name for him and performed a somewhat ill-fated eye-roll by shifting on his suspension. He gave a sort of dissatisfied rumble. "People are gonna get suspicious if I win, we all know I'm the slowest."
"It don't matter who wins, just that neither me nor Grant finishes first," General explained.
"Yeah, we'll bump each other a few times, maybe fight a little. We'll make it look like a real struggle," Grant added.
Thunder revved his engine. "Think of it as a little friendly competition between the rest of us."
Tank nodded. "Then you're on."
General nodded as well. "So it's settled, neither of the Generals wins tomorrow."
"And may the best Defect win," Grant added.
It was early the next morning, and the house was quiet. The sun was yet an orange sliver along the horizon. Luke was in his nightmare again, stuck in that seemingly endless loop. However, this time there was no sound, and when Clayton, Boss Hogg and Rosco, Allen, and Russell each opened their mouths, no sound came out. Their lips moved but no words were heard. Luke supposed it was the same, and expected to see that terrible, horned beasted again, but this time was different. Before he could even get that far, he found himself suddenly being wrenched from unconsciousness by a scream and a shout.
First came the scream. It was no doubt a scream of both shock and terror. Then the shout not a moment later.
Daisy's voice rang through the house, rattling all from sleep. "LUKE!"
At the sound of this, both boys jolted awake, Bo bolting upright with an exclamation of "I'm up!"
Luke startled awake as well, listening to the cries of his cousin for a moment as he gained his bearings before folding a pillow over his head and groaning loudly.
It was a few minutes before the boys finally managed to drag themselves out of bed and get dressed, wandering out into the living room to see what all of the noise was about.
Luke ran a hand over his face, rubbing sleep from his eyes, moving to stand next to Daisy who was standing idly behind the sofa. The poor girl was seemingly frozen there, a toppled cup of water seeping into the carpet at her feet, next to it the small array of prescription drugs that Clayton was supposed to have taken this morning. However, following Daisy's gaze, Luke found the Devilish man in a place where he really shouldn't be.
The little man seemingly clung to the ceiling, like a frightened cat, only Luke had no idea how he was doing it as he was about eighty percent sure that Clayton didn't have claws besides the fact that there was nothing to really hang onto. While still a little hung upon the impossibility of Clayton being able to crawl onto the ceiling, Bo appeared just moments after Luke, only to join his two cousins in marveling at the spectacle.
Finally seeming to take notice of them, Clayton's gaze rested on them and he managed a somewhat wobbly smile. "Oh, boys! Mornin'!" he called down to them. "Now, I'm sure you're wonderin' how I got into this predicament but I can assure you, it's perfectly safe! It's such a nice day, y'know, I-I was thinkin' that I'll just skip the meds today to stir things up a bit!"
Luke was quick to notice the tremors in his limbs as he spoke, Clayton was struggling to stay aloft. Aptly, Luke bent to pick the dropped pills from the carpet, gathering them in the palm of his hand. He supposed that Clayton knew that coming down would mean having no choice but to take them as their mornings had most often consisted of at least half an hour trying to wrangle the little man and get him to take the pills.
Luke walked out into the living room, keeping his gaze on Clayton. He fought the sinister grin that threatened to creep onto his lips.
"You can't stay up there forever you know," he said, holding up the hand that contained the pills. "How's that arm feelin' by the way?"
By now, Bo had managed to rouse Daisy from her shock and the two of them had adjourned to the kitchen, letting Luke do his thing.
Clayton's right arm was enveloped in a thick cast and further hung in a sling. The sling, however, was multifunctional as it fit quite snugly and had an extra strap that went around to keep the stubborn man from moving the injured limb even an inch. Clayton, naturally, had detested this device, and despite many efforts, was unable to discorporate it as he was not allowed anywhere near knives, scissors, or any other remotely sharp object.
Luke supposed that Clayton might not have objected to the drugs so much if they at least left him his mind but due to the intensity of them, they not only numbed the pain of his body but of his mind as well, rendering him in what seemed to be a trippy, dreamland getaway for about an hour before that phase expired and Clayton was free to wreak havoc painlessly for about eight hours, which by the end, was most often exhausted anyway. As a final feat, the drugs then succeeded in knocking him out for twelve hours-arguably more than the man had slept in his whole life-only for him to wake up as his usual, sinister self. The only downside to that was that he was waking up in pain-not that anyone would be allowed to see.
Luke had at first wondered why the doctors had decided to drug Clayton to such a degree but was quickly reminded that due to the man's lifestyle, there was seemingly no end to the things his body was tolerant of. Luke would have mocked him had he not pitied him. And he did pity him.
Luke could tell that Clayton was in pain now but was still stuck fast to the ceiling. Knowing Clayton couldn't stay up for much longer, he turned and started walking away. "Well, when ya get tired, these'll be right here waitin' for you," Luke said, stopping a few paces away, listening.
There was a cry of defiance as Clayton finally fell from the ceiling, landing on the floor with a thud! Luke turned around to look at him, the little man lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. That same twinge of pity gnawing at him again, Luke sighed and walked over to him, kneeling onto the floor next to him. Clayton's face was twisted into a snarling grimace.
"What?" the man snapped.
"Looks to me you like the pain," Luke replied, moving to sit.
Another grimace. "I've had worse." He glanced at Luke's hand. "I don't need those."
Luke gave him an unamused look and held out his hand, watching as Clayton picked the pills from his palm anyway. "Look I get that you're this badass, gunslingin', Voodoo witch-among other things-but it's okay to ask for help y'know."
Clayton growled. "Well aren't you just a fucking hypocrite."
"This ain't about me."
Clayton pushed himself up, pulling himself to his feet with the arm of Jesse's chair. He started out of the room, calling over his shoulder, "Mais, you forget you brought me here. I was just fine on my own!"
Luke stood up as well, watching him go. With a sigh, he shook his head, and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.
The afternoon was upon them quickly, Grant and Tank showing up to the Boar's Nest early. Grant pulled around back, stopping by the door to Boss Hogg's office. He waited there only a moment before the rotund figure came to the door, smoking a cigar. Pleased, he stepped outside and took the cigar from his mouth, grinning wide.
"The General Grant! I was wonderin' when you'd get here." Boss Hogg laughed. "Today's a big day! Very big indeed!"
Grant revved his engine. "I got something special planned for General, don't you worry your fat head, Hogg."
"Wonderful! You get goin' now, no use dawdlin'. And remember, you win that race by any means necessary."
Grant nodded and shifted into gear, pulling away back to the front of the building where Tank, Caleb, and Diablo were waiting. Tank rumbled with contentment upon seeing him.
"He buy it?" the hearse asked.
Grant nodded. "Of course he did, I haven't lost my touch yet."
Diablo revved his engine, boasting with pride. "Well, since the two macho muchachos ain't technically in the race, I think we all know who's gonna win."
Caleb rumbled in disagreement. "I've come close to beatin' Grant before, I think I might just whip your tailpipe buddyroe!" The patrol car giggled in a fashion very similar to Enos.
Tank growled, listening to their competitive taunting. "Hey, who knows, Thunder might just beat both of you. Or the Black Maiden for that matter."
Grant made a noise. "Who even said she'd show? Not to be… uh-what's a big word-complacent, but she's not exactly what you'd call a 'team-player.'"
"She'll be here, I'm sure," Caleb said, looking between Grant and Tank.
Tank made a noise and shifted on his suspension. "I'd put money on it if I had any."
It was then, not a moment later, that the black Coronet came rolling up into the parking lot. The door opened and Sheriff Rosco stepped out and walked inside, likely to Boss Hogg's office. Before disappearing inside, he offered the rest of the Defects a friendly wave and a grin.
Caleb rumbled to Tank as the Black Maiden rolled past them. "You were sayin'?"
About half an hour later, General, Thunder, and the Dukes-plus Clayton-arrived at the Boar's Nest, the race ready to kick off. By this time, I was thumbin' my way about a half-mile down the road, on my way to place a bet. Oh yeah, that's right, y'all thought I was supposed to be Waylon.
By the time General and Thunder rolled up, the parking lot was beginning to fill up with cars and people. Spectators, all of them eager. They had never seen such a thing as a Defects-only race. All of the Defects were lined up at the side of the parking lot, readily being circled by spectators and minglers. Cameras flashed left and right, blinding the poor Defects. People talked to them. They wished them good luck. And they expressed their love. If General and the others hadn't been so utterly stunned by the affectionate displays, he might have gloated and taunted the others, laying on thick his charisma and spirit but the dozens of people surrounding them had made him timid.
They had brought cardboard signs with red hearts and insignias and prints of lipstick. One sign read in big letters 'GENERAL LEE #01!' Another had an insignia of a lightning bolt and said 'We love Thunder!' There were others directed toward Tank, Caleb, and Diablo. There was even one for Grant.
General found that he received a good portion of the attention. People laid flowers on him. One young lady even planted a kiss upon his hood. He supposed that if he had skin, all of the affection would have made him flush with embarrassment and guilt. He felt like he was letting them down, knowing full well that this was one race he wouldn't be winning. For a long time this went on until the bell rang to place their final bets. To the people, it meant they needed to get to the Boar's Nest and place their bets. To the Defects, it meant that the race started in a matter of ten minutes. It was General and Grant's final 'hour.'
Inside the Boar's Nest, the Dukes were gathered at the bar, Daisy hopping behind the counter for a moment to help with bets and orders. Boss Hogg and Rosco created a spectacle about the placing of the bets, as expected of the two of them. Each of them grinned whenever someone would place a bet on the General Lee. The Dukes, unaware of both Boss Hogg's and the Defects' plans, began to grow suspicious, however, didn't act upon it. How much trouble could this race be?
Cooter was quick to make a bet, betting on General Lee with a grin before walking over to the Dukes. Clayton was there with them, seated on a barstool, a mischievous air about him. Boss Hogg set the box which held the cash bets upon the counter, turning to talk to Rosco.
Promptly, the little man reached for it with his left hand when he thought no one was looking. He'd managed to get it open and was after a handful of bills when Luke suddenly turned, wrenching the whole thing from his grip. The two of them shared a dirty look before Clayton turned away from him, pulling closed the other side of his coat which hung loosely over his slinged arm.
Daisy brought Cooter a beer as he leaned up against the counter, grinning to the Duke boys.
"Hey Cooter, you got the General's fuel filter?" Bo asked.
Cooter grinned at him. "Same day delivery and installation. Ol' General's ready to go!"
"I'd hope so," Luke said after a sip from his mug. "Awful lotta people bettin' on him to win."
Daisy leaned over the counter behind them, lowering her voice. "I still say Boss Hogg's gotta have somethin' up his sleeve, he's just gotta."
"Yeah, well, it ain't like it's somethin' we ain't used to. Whatever it is, we'll just deal with it, I suppose," Bo replied.
"Can I say somethin'?" Clayton asked.
"No," Luke snapped.
"Mais, I say we make the first move. We could always use him as fertilizer!" This remark received an array of looks. Clayton shrugged. "Only a suggestion, mes amis."
There was a moment of silence as they drank from their beers. A few feet away, Boss Hogg checked his pocket watch and announced that the bets would be closing in three minutes. A handful of people scrambled up to place their final bets. As they began to clear and the noise settled down, everyone eager for the start of the race, the front door banged open, admitting a lone woman into the establishment. The Duke boys' eyes were immediately on her.
A white cowboy hat sat atop her head, an eagle feather pinned into the band. Her footsteps fell heavy upon the floor and her shoulders moved in tune with her steps. They were heavy and wide.
Bo grinned at the sight of her and began to slide off his seat, however, Luke elbowed him.
"You recognize her?" he asked him.
Bo shrugged. "Don't know but I'm sure I'll remember her tomorrow."
Luke shook his head, holding him back. "No, I've seen her somewhere. There's somethin' familiar about her face, you don't forget a face like that."
"You sure don't."
Luke hit him again. "Will you quit that? I'm serious. I swear I recognize her."
As the woman approached, Bo's smile cracked as she was presented at full scale. This woman was tall with thick bones and the countenance of a bear. She didn't smile. She looked mean.
The Duke boys watched as she walked up to Boss Hogg, standing straight with shoulders balanced so that she was gazing down at Boss Hogg with dark eyes. By now, the fat man's smile had fallen away and he stood looking up at her, clutching the money box in his hands.
Slowly, with a shift of her shoulders, the woman pulled out a black, leather wallet from her back pocket, extracting two twenty-dollar bills.
"Forty dollars on the truck called Thunder," she said in a voice that seemed too deep to be her own.
Then, a miracle happened. The woman's outstretched hand, holding the bills, was merely looked at by Boss Hogg but not acted upon. The fat man froze for what felt like a full minute and did not take the money.
Finally, Boss Hogg got his stiff limbs to move and he accepted the money without a word. The woman gave him a nod with a kind of smirk and walked to the counter to order a bottle of beer. Daisy left to go tend to her, the other woman taking the bottle with a gracious air and tossing some change onto the counter. With that, she left, back out to the parking lot to watch the race.
Daisy walked back to the boys, both of them turning to her.
"She say somethin'?" Bo asked.
Daisy shook her head. "No, just what kinda beer she wanted. Y'know, I swear I've seen her somewhere before. What d'you think?"
"I think I'm fixing to find out who she is and where she's from, one way or another," Luke said, turning to his cousin. "Bo, I got a job for you."
The blonde Duke immediately perked up. "Oh, hell yeah!"
"Keep an eye on our mystery brunette here, find out as much as you can if you can manage it."
Bo gave him a salute. "Not a problem."
That said, they followed the crowd out to the parking lot where the Defects were coming forward in formation. In the front was Tank and Thunder. Behind them, the Black Maiden and Diablo. Then Caleb and Grant. And in the very back was General. All of them peered out at the crowd, studying faces. Immediately it was noticed that Thunder was off.
Seven roaring engines vibrated the evening sky. The whole crowd was on edge, waiting impatiently for the race to begin. They all watched as Rosco strolled out, raising a pearl-handled pistol. There was a roar of approval from the crowd before a single gunshot rang out and the race started.
There was a moment of hesitation from Thunder, receiving a bump from Diablo from behind. Once the pick-up was jostled out of the way, the others all surged forward and were off. Within moments, positions were changed and lost and won. The Black Maiden fell to last place, engine sputtering as soon as she left the line-up. Cussing under her breath, she pulled off to the side, engine cutting out. That left General and Grant fighting in the back. They crashed into each other, denting their fenders. General pushed Grant, Grant pushed back. They continued on like this for most of the race.
Tank was in front of them, fighting Thunder for third. In second was Diablo and in first was Caleb. Tank growled tauntingly and tried to shove Thunder into the side of a small hill as they passed. However, quick to act, Thunder turned into the maneuver, riding up onto the slope, Tank pressed up against him. As the hearse pulled away to ram him again, Thunder quickly gunned his engine, tires spinning dirt, Tank accidentally sending himself into the hillside.
Thunder shot forward, overtaking Diablo and stealing the second-place position. He expected Diablo to taunt him and try to overtake him in return. However, what he heard was nothing of the sort.
Diablo revved his engine behind him, yelling, "Yeah! Go get 'em, Thunder!"
A new air about him, Thunder gunned his engine again. He could feel the intense heat building in his engine, remembering the last time he'd tried to race his engine had overheated and he'd had to limp away with damage to his engine. The memory made him push even harder. He didn't have much time before he overheated and forfeited the race.
Before he was essentially 'born', apparently he could speed and twist just as good as General could. But not anymore, not since he'd been taken apart. Those were among his earliest memories, being taken apart, stripped of valuable parts. He'd been taken apart as a vehicle of vigor and performance, and rebuilt mediocre. Less than that. He could no longer jump. He could no longer get past 100 mph without breaking his own engine.
But she'd given him the ability to fly. And he'd seen her. Maybe she could give it to him. He just needed to make himself known, show her that he was still the valiant pick-up that she had loved.
He just needed to get past Caleb, and he was already pushing ninety. This wasn't going to be easy. He was getting hot. He supposed he'd be sweating if he were human. Then again, what human would be running at 90 mph?
With a huff, Thunder put on another burst of speed, closing the gap between him and Caleb. As he slowed to make it around a curve, he stuck fast to the inside of it, coming up next to the patrol car.
Caleb's engine rumbled. "Hey, Thunder! You fixin' to pass me?"
Thunder replied with a similar rumble, coming out of the curve and swerving in front of Caleb to cut him off. "Maybe."
Caleb's horn honked as he struggled to recover from the somewhat dirty trick Thunder had pulled on him. "Hey!" he exclaimed after him, though could hardly be mad.
The Boar's Nest was back in view now. Thunder could barely hear the roaring crowd over the sound of his engine. It was hot. So hot. He could see steam rolling out from beneath his hood. He didn't think he was going to make it. He could feel himself losing RPMs, slowing. It surprised him that Caleb hadn't yet reclaimed his spot in first place. A quick glance to his rearview mirrors revealed that the patrol car was much too busy trying to keep Diablo from running him off the road.
With one final surge, Thunder flew into the parking lot, skidding to a stop just before a line of excited people. He took a moment to settle, engine steaming. His engine caused him to shake, but he didn't care right then. He was frantically scanning the crowds for her. He couldn't see her.
He found himself swarmed with people before the rest of the Defects arrived. The cameras were flashing again, making him flinch and back away. There were screams and laughter and "Oh my God!" and "Congratulations!" and "Thunder!" and "I can't believe he won!" It was all so overwhelming, Thunder didn't know how General did it. He wanted to shrink away. To curl up into a ball. He wanted to disappear underground right there.
What good was winning if she wasn't there to see it?!
It wasn't long before the Dukes and Cooter came running up to meet him, the rest of the Defects falling in behind Thunder. He was still searching the crowds, shifting on his suspension and trying to turn. He startled as they came up to him, rousing him from his distraction.
"Thunder! You all right?" Cooter asked worriedly, observing the steam rolling off the truck's hood, not daring to touch it.
Thunder's engine rumbled and he shook himself. "Did you see her? Where is she?"
"Who, Thunder?" Daisy asked.
It was then that it dawned on Luke. "It was her. The girl in the picture, Thunder. That's the Dreamer."
Thunder nodded, engine rumbling even louder. "You saw her?"
"Yeah, but we lost her," Bo said, scratching the back of his head, cringing as Luke elbowed him. "I. I lost her."
"I gotta find her, you don't understand."
"We understand plenty, we'll help ya," Luke said, trying to calm the truck down. "Now, where d'you think she coulda gone?"
Thunder shook himself. "I got no idea. It's been so long…"
"She had to have left somethin' for us to find, why else would she come here?"
Thunder shifted on his suspension. "She was always pretty straightforward. I dunno, Luke, what if she's changed?"
"Then we'll find her and figure it out."
Just then, there was the rev of another engine and General along with the other Defects rolled up.
"Hey," he said, "I heard everythin', Thunder, we'll help ya. Everybody fan out!"
"General, we ain't gonna find nothin' in this crowd," Bo argued.
General rumbled. "It's still worth a try."
And so they all fanned out because General's word was gold, or rather, orange. As the crowd thinned, footprints mixed, evidence disappeared. Thunder rumbled in the distance, yet another storm. Even without his powers, Thunder still seemed to attract them.
As Grant listened to the thunder, he turned to its namesake who was prowling the grounds. "Hey, you tried to get your powers back recently?"
"Every day," Thunder replied shortly.
There was some silence between them for a long moment until Grant heard a growl from the truck.
"Aw, who the hell am I kiddin', Grant? If I had my powers I'd have found her by now!"
Grant revved his engine. "And how do you expect the rest of us to find her then?" He turned away from him. "You're made out of a lot more stuff than a spark of electricity, Thunder."
Grant clicked his cassette into place, Crazy Little Thing Called Love playing from where it'd been stopped. He hadn't been lying when he said he'd be playing it over and over.
Just then, someone called from the other side of the dirt parking lot where most cars entered. Both Defects looked up to see who it was, finding Luke and Clayton standing up there. Thunder immediately rushed over, followed by General and Grant. Thunder revved his engine, braking hard when he got there.
"What is it, Luke, what'd you find?" he asked.
Luke shrugged, gesturing. "Clayton found it actually."
Thunder shifted on his suspension to acknowledge the devilish man, who cleared his throat.
"I'm sure you've observed that since this place is surrounded by woodland, most people prefer to drive here. Well, look at this," Clayton said, stepping to the side to reveal a single set of footprints leading into the parking lot.
"How can you be sure they're hers?" Thunder asked.
"Well, for one, you're here, she didn't drive you. And two, tracks like these could only be made by a woman of considerable size, ergo, her."
"And there's no set leadin' out which means she mighta got a ride," General said.
Grant rumbled. "There were at least a hundred cars here tonight, where would we even start?"
"Hey, Rosco ain't never been known to let a stranger pass through this county untouched. I say we check the courthouse first," Luke suggested. "Look, it's gettin' pretty late so me and Bo will check in with the courthouse, we'll meet up at the farm tomorrow mornin', sound good?"
The others agreed and Bo, Luke, Clayton, and General left for the courthouse.
When Bo and Luke came rushing through the courthouse doors, Rosco looked like he was on his way out. Most of the lights were off and he was reaching for his hat, already wearing his coat, and he was the only one there. The sheriff made a noise and rolled his eyes as the boys ran in.
He made another noise and tossed his hat down on his desk. "Oh, now what? Can't you Duke boys see it's late?"
"Rosco, we got official business with ya, will you just listen?" Luke asked.
Rosco sighed, still clearly annoyed but now to a softer degree. "Alright, what is it?"
"We're lookin' for a girl," Bo started.
"A woman," Luke interjected. "Real tall, taller than me, shorter than Bo."
Rosco made a note at his desk and gave another, exaggerated sigh. "Gimme her name, what she was wearin', and her general description."
And so, the Duke boys did. They told him that she was probably known under the CB handle 'Dreamer'. She was wearing a plaid, button-up shirt and jeans with boots and a hat. She was tall, as already described, and heavyset with brown hair and brown eyes.
"So she was fat?" Rosco asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No, no, not heavy as in fat she was just big," Bo explained.
"She looked strong is what we mean. Look, it's really important that we find her," Luke added.
Rosco set his pen down and looked back at them. "I'll put an APB out on her. But why are y'all lookin' for her in the first place?"
"You remember when we took that trip out to Los Angeles? Some of that trouble we had with Thunder and that truck convoy?"
Rosco's face twisted as he tried to think.
"Well, it's a long story but the short version is that the woman we're lookin' for is his long-lost owner and we need to find her."
Rosco nodded. "Well, we'll keep an eye out for her and I'll give ya a call if I see her."
"Appreciate it, Rosco."
That said, the boys walked out of the courthouse and into the starting rain.