Chapter 32 Villain #2
I needed to get the vehicle upright, but it was on its side, the driver’s side, and the beast was heavily armored, or we’d both be more than singed.
I unlatched the passenger door above my head and shoved it open, ignoring the pain in my left arm.
Pain was a distraction I couldn’t afford, so I turned it off and focused on the task ahead of me.
Nitro had talked about crashes, what to do, how to stop leaks, how to get back in a race, and all those conversations came back to me as clear as if she were talking beside me.
I pulled myself out of the truck and stood on the side for a moment before dropping to the ground. I needed to get it upright. I’d worry about how impossible it was later.
I gripped the metal frame and closed my eyes. Trix, my wild-haired friend, would not die in this desert. I wouldn’t let her.
I hauled up with all my strength, and at first, nothing happened, but then with a shudder, strength flowed through my arms and I hauled the enormous truck upright until it rocked onto its tires.
I tried to open the door, but it was crushed into place.
I snarled at it and yanked harder, ripping the metal apart with an ear-rending screech, but that door was open and I could get to Trix.
I found the first aid kit beside the purple snack bag, now mostly empty with its contents scattered all over the place, tampons mixing with jerky sticks and chocolate bars.
I checked the wound, but it seemed clean, just cut on the metal from the door.
Her ankle looked bad, probably broken, but I didn’t have the time or skill to set it.
I applied pressure to her head wound, then sterilized it, bandaged it, and dragged her into the passenger’s seat, buckling her in with her blood on my hands.
It was a rough job, because broken arms, or sprained, or whatever it was, weren’t great for functionality, even if you can ignore the pain.
Once she was situated, I went to the engine.
Getting the hood open was another herculean effort, but with Nitro’s voice in my head, I patched the hole in the gas tank with the rough patch kit set into the frame just for such emergencies.
Would it hold? No idea, but I didn’t have time to worry about that.
I climbed into the driver’s seat and then checked all the gear shifters. There were so many more buttons than I was used to, but when I closed my eyes, I saw Trixie driving, recalled everything she’d done, and so that’s what I did.
Her baby started with a roar, and we shot forward, barely missing a massive rock, and bumping through really rough terrain as I tried to get us back onto the trail we’d been shot off.
The GPS map tracker on the screen was broken, but I could remember what it had looked like, the dot that was Trix’s truck, and the dotted path that led to the finish line.
I kept that path in my head and focused on driving a vehicle I’d never driven, and had never wanted to drive, through rough terrain that I went over too fast, considering my inexperience, but I had to get Trix to safety before we all blew up. Again.
I giggled and went faster. If Nitro could see me now, would she be proud?
I almost felt her with me, telling me to take that dirt ramp and hit the boost when we got to the top so we soared before coming down on the other side of the ramp.
Had that actually happened? No sense worrying about that when I had a race to win.
No, I wasn’t winning a race, just getting Trix to safety, but Nitro’s ghost had other ideas.
I’d felt my father sometimes guiding my fingers when I was playing cello, and this was like that, but more intense, maybe because Nitro was a more intense life force.
I cranked that engine and raced like Nitro, taking that vehicle into the home stretch with two vehicles coming in from the side as I raced the last flat part. The stands were visible along with the banner stretched over the line.
I changed gear, going for more power as I tried to outpace the surrounding vehicles, but then I recognized them, Nix to my right, Dirk to my left, Jezebel his passenger.
The team. I should stop so they could take over, but my foot had other ideas.
We were going to finish this hot, like Trix would do it.
The screams of the crowd were overwhelming as I slid across the finish line.
I roared to the end where the medics would be, then turned the wheel, coming to a sliding stop in a cloud of dust. I should be more gentle with my passenger.
I turned to look at her for the first time on that last leg, and she was calmly looking back at me, a quirky smile on her blood-stained, swollen face.
“You are a crazy driver,” she said roughly. “You do her proud.”
I blinked sudden pricking tears out of my eyes as the world got blurry.
She knew I’d been driving with Nitro. My lips trembled, and my hands shook so hard they couldn’t grip the steering wheel.
The pain from my arm rushed through me, making me so tired, so dead, but I needed to get someone to look at Trix.
I fumbled until I got the driver’s door open, and when I finally did, I fell out, and into Dirk’s arms.
“Daniela, that was you driving? Someone get a stretcher!”
“For Trix,” I said, trying to straighten up. “She’s hurt.”
He ran his hands over my arms, and I flinched. “You’re hurt. Two stretchers!”
I smiled up at him because he hated me getting hurt. I loved him so much. How could I ever hurt him, no matter if I could pull the trigger or not? “There’s a gas leak, and the car is probably going to explode.”
He kissed me. There were fireworks, but probably not the literal kind, and then he swooped me into his arms and carried me to the waiting ambulance.
“You didn’t wait for a stretcher,” I said, looping my arm around him, the good one that still functioned.
“What happened?” he growled. “The feed was disrupted when our fight turned into a war. Dozens of extras dropped in from nowhere, so all of us fighters had to work together, which Nix didn’t appreciate, not when Horse is his favorite opponent.
Still, it added a new dynamic to the race.
What happened? It looks like Trix’s beastie got hit by a torpedo. ”
“It was something like that. Exploded us and rolled us a bunch of times.”
“You’re lucky it landed upright.”
I pressed my face into his neck and breathed in his warmth and strength. He did smell like dirt and sweat, but still clean, still right, and mine. I was lucky for a lot of reasons, but not that. That was a mystery I’d worry about later.