Conflict

Part 3, Chapter 12

"I think that's our signal to go," Izzy said as the two racers took off through the desert.

Strip watched as Lightning went offroad. "He's drawin' him away from the road. Smart."

"If he's hoping to get far, he's going the wrong way," Izzy pointed out. "There's nothing but a canyon wall over there."

It was true. McQueen had veered off Route 66 to the left. At the rate he was going, he'd reach that vertical wall of rock in no time at all.

As soon as the racers couldn't be seen from the highway, Chick bared a third weapon, a simple machine gun, from his rear quarters. That firearm wouldn't so much as dent the Chrysler custom armor, but Lightning might as well have been dressed in tissue paper. Those bullets would tear him apart.

"I'll take Chick out," Izzy said. "You go make sure Lightning stays safe."

They dove toward the ground. Izzy sprayed Chick with a barrage of bullets, catching his attention. He slowed. Lightning heard the commotion behind him and sped up. Strip followed him.

"By the manufa- how many guns does this guy have?" Izzy asked.

Strip looked back as he passed Chick. Another missile launcher? His vision went black for a split second. In the next moment, he was sitting next to Rick in a falling building, staring into the void of a severed hallway. The missiles. They weren't built to take out cars. They were meant to level entire buildings. Strip snapped back to reality.

"Take it out before he – "

Swoosh.

Strip saw it coming from behind him. He didn't think, not in the least. Lightning was in front of him, and the missile was coming up from behind, too quick to second guess. He dove into its path.

He heard a scream and an explosion behind him. The missile never touched him, but the shockwave it emitted threw him ahead of Lightning. Strip struggled to regain flight control. He was seconds away from leveling out when the ground caught up to him.

Thirty-plus years of racing experience came to a head as he hit the dirt tires first, skidding toward the rock wall at incredibly high speed. The difference was that in all that time, not once had he had wings to deal with. They sliced through bushes and cacti, effectively slowing him down to a point where his brakes finally began to work. Still, he couldn't quite stop before hitting the canyon wall. He plowed into a pile of large rocks at nearly forty miles an hour.

"You idiot!" Izzy screamed over her radio. "What was that?"

Strip moaned and shook himself, backing away from the site of impact. He looked down at himself. Huh. Just scratches? A couple of dents? Other than being a little shaken, he felt fine. What did Rick make this stuff out of?

"Uh, yeah," Strip responded as he collected himself. "Stupid, I guess."

"You guess? Oh, you better pray I never need to blackmail you to your wife," Izzy threatened. "You're lucky I hit that thing."

Strip could hear straight through her anger. That was how she disguised the fact that she was scared. As he realized what happened, he felt guilty. Lynda had specifically told him not to do that. Pull yourself together.

Lightning skidded to a stop next to him with a wild look in his eyes. Not so far away, Chick had his sights on Izzy, who was making him dance. She dropped a missile on him. It did nothing but blow him off to the side.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lightning asked as Strip moved away from the rock pile.

"Yeah, get behind me," Strip ordered.