Spy Racers: World Tour

Chapter 16: Race Day pt. 1

POV: Tony

Snow pelted his windshield as Tony sped down the windy, mountain road. He swerved, narrowly avoiding the drop-off to his right as he dodged shots from the men he was chasing. Dom was held captive in the back of their car and Tony knew he didn't have much time to get him out. He tried calling the rest of the crew on the comms system, but no one was picking up. Hopefully it was just the blizzard disrupting the signal and nothing had happened to his friends. A bullet suddenly smashed through his windshield, and Tony ducked as the glass splintered. It didn't completely shatter, but now it was impossible to see anything with the snow and fog swirling around outside.

Tony barely made the next turn around the mountainside, his back tires spinning recklessly as they fought for traction. Fortunately, the enemy car was having almost as much trouble navigating the icy road. Tony was gaining on them, so he began planning his next move. He could see the road widening up ahead for about a mile or two- just enough time for him to catch up with Dom's captors and make the jump from his car to theirs. But as they came up over a ridge, Tony caught sight of another car, pulled off on the side of a lookout point. Standing nearby was a man dressed all in black, who was roughly handling a captive of his own and holding a gun up to her blonde hair.

LAYLA! Tony tried to scream, but he suddenly realized he couldn't- he couldn't do anything, actually. Speak, drive, or even move at all. He was stuck between saving two people, but wasn't going to get a chance at either because he was frozen to the wheel. The split second of hesitation was all it took for the icy conditions to win the battle Tony's car had been fighting all the way up the mountain. The tires spun out and Tony slammed into the dashboard, the steering wheel wrenched from his grip. He didn't even get a last look at Dom or Layla before he was plummeting off a cliff, vanishing into the snowy sky and—

"Tony!" Cisco's voice shook him awake.

"Huh?" Tony sat up, looking around wildly. Cisco was shaking his shoulders and Frostee stood at the edge of the bed, looking concerned. They were already dressed in their disguises again, which threw Tony off for a second.

"Dude, are you good? You were sweating like crazy and mumbling some weird stuff in your sleep," Frostee told him.

Tony groaned, rubbing his temples.

"Uh, yeah...yeah, I'm good," he assured his friends. "Just a bad dream. I took some melatonin last night to help with the jet lag- you know that stuff can mess with your mind a bit."

He tried to laugh it off, but Frostee and Cisco didn't seem convinced.

"Right...well, Miss Nowhere just told us that breakfast is in 10 minutes, so you should probably get ready."

Tony nodded and dragged himself out of bed, heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He washed his face with freezing cold water in an effort to wake himself up, but it just reminded him of the icy weather from his nightmare. Everything felt way too real- and it wasn't the first time this had happened. Tony didn't understand why things seemed to be getting worse. First the flashbacks, now nightmares- hadn't it been long enough since Sudarikov had messed with his brain? Why was it still affecting him so much? Nothing made sense, and Tony was really starting to stress about it. What if the nightmares became so frequent he stopped sleeping altogether? He was already losing focus half the time when driving now- adding sleep deprivation would pretty much make him useless behind the wheel. He desperately needed to figure out how to set his mind straight again.

10 minutes later, Tony, Cisco and Frostee met the rest of the crew down in the atrium, everyone decked out in their racing gear and disguises. The room had been decorated overnight with "Race Day" banners and signs and giveaway tables for teams and fans. Along the sides of the room were more tables filled with so many breakfast foods it was hard to even know where to start. Cisco looked like he was having the best day of his life, piling a plate high with all the options until there was no space left.