Chapter 62: Chapter 40.2: Whacky Races

“Give me that guy’s sword,” Leanne shouted. Vell obliged, disarming one of the pirate-themed racers and tossing his sword in Leanne’s direction. She grabbed it, cut the ropes of the pirate ship/race car’s sails, and then tossed the blade directly into the engine of a muscle car that was pursuing them. The engine bellowed smoke and then burst, leaving the driver to dive into the adjacent sea to escape the flames. Another death machine swerved past the flaming husk and took it’s turn pursuing them.

While the various racers had shifted focus from winning the race to making sure Vell and Leanne lost, their dozens of attempts had all been thwarted. The death racers were rank amateurs at best, whereas Leanne had been fighting off various apocalypses for a solid four years. Vell, who’d only been fighting them off for close to one, was a bit more bruised, but still holding his own. He had dodged the spears of rampaging fish-men, he could handle a few pirate cosplayers with prop swords.

However, since the pirate band had, for some reason, decided to include actual sails as part of their propulsion system, they were no longer a threat. Vell jumped over the railing of their replica pirate ship and landed on his horse, which had been running alongside the vessel the whole time. The pirate ship faded into the background as they continued down the racetrack.

“You know, I’m pretty sure I didn’t see a full-scale pirate ship at the starting line,” Vell said.

“Weirdos come out of the woodwork around here, you should know that,” Leanne said. Vell could only nod in agreement.

“I’m just saying, I thought we’d have to fight like, twenty people, tops, and we’re on something like forty-five.”

“Forty six,” Leanne said. “Incoming.”

A lone rider on a motorcycle raced forward, closing the gap. In a refreshing change of pace, they didn’t seem to have any particular themed gimmick, though they did have a large club they swung at Leanne. She caught it in her bare hands. The motorcycle rider’s face was hidden by a helmet, but she could still sense the fear on their face.

The fear became outright panic as Vell grabbed them by the back of their leather jacket and hoisted them aboard the horse. He swerved left and kept a firm hold on the motorcycle rider as they approached the ocean.

“You’re going to want to tuck your legs in close,” Vell advised. “And take the helmet off as soon as you can.”

“Wha-”

Vell didn’t bother letting them finish before he pushed them off the horse’s back, into the ocean. They failed to follow Vell’s advice and ended up tumbling and thrashing as they hit the water’s surface and then sank below it. Vell left their fate in the capable hands of the island’s robot lifeguards, and they were swiftly rescued. Leanne scoffed at him as Vell returned to her side.

“You usually give instructions to the bad guys?”

“Oh they’re not a bad guy, they’re just a guy who wants twenty-thousand dollars,” Vell said. “Kraid’s the bad guy.”

“Would you club someone for twenty-thousand bucks?”

“Well, no,” Vell said. “But maybe they need twenty k more than I do.”

“Right,” Leanne said, with a heavy roll of her eyes. She took a look over her shoulder to see if any new racers were catching up with them. A few distant threats presented themselves on the horizon, but nothing immediate.

“We just started the second lap, right? It’s kinda hard to tell with all these guys fighting us all the time.”

“Yeah, just a bit ago,” Vell said. “Are you getting tired? You can ride my horse for a bit.”

“I’m good,” Leanne said. “And I’m not letting you do me any favors. When I win this thing, I don’t want you to say you helped me.”

“Help you? I stopped you from getting hit with a freeze ray,” Vell protested.

“Yeah, and I punched the cyber-cheetah that nearly tackled you,” Leanne said. “It’s reciprocal. I can’t reciprocate a ride on your weird robo-horse. Unless you expect me to carry the thing, which isn’t happening.”

“Have it your way, I guess,” Vell said. “Hoverboards at five o’clock.”

The pack of eight hoverboard-mounted students closed in on Vell and Leanne from above. They attacked like a swarm of insects, swooping down on either of the two with quick dives, then veering out of reach before any retaliation could be made. Leanne made a valiant effort, and even knocked one of the hoverboarders off his board, but his comrades caught him and had him mounted again in a second. The duo simply wasn’t equipped to deal with their aerial agility.

“Ow, stop it,” Vell pleaded in vain. “You know even if this works, Kraid’s just going to make you split the prize eight ways, right?”

“That’s still two point five grand each,” one of the hoverboarders said, before swooping at Vell again. “Pretty solid.”

The hoverboarder struck Vell on the shoulder, rattling him in his saddle, but not quite shaking him.

“Okay, whatever, jesus,” Vell sputtered. “Could you at least just shove me or something instead of this death by a thousand slaps bullshit?”

“If you insist,” the hoverboarder said. Since they (correctly) perceived Vell to be the easier target of the two, the hoverboarder’s had no objection to ganging up on him. The eight boarders gathered in a single cluster and prepared to make a final dive at Vell. Their engines roared in unison as they reached the apex of their ascent and prepared to dive -a dramatic swelling of noise that was slightly undercut by the rhythmic blaring of a “La Cucaracha” horn.

The thunderous notes of Latin American folk music preceded a swift, lime-green bolt of lightning from the vehicle of Freddy Frizzle. The directed bolt of electromagnetic energy fried the circuits of one of the hoverboarders and sent him tumbling to the ground. Freddy swerved to avoid the fallen boarder and then fired his disruptive weapon again, screaming at the top of his lungs all the while. He did not stop shouting, or firing, until the last of the hoverboarders decided they no longer wished to risk the wrath of the manic ginger and beat a hasty retreat.

“What the fuck is this?” Kraid said over the intercom. “How is that living feather duster still in the race?”

“Hey, don’t listen to him, Freddy, I appreciate the assist,” Vell said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Leanne added.

“Don’t mention it,” Freddy said. He took a minute to catch his breath after having done a full minute of sustained screaming. “Whoof. I don’t think I needed the battle cry.”

“Was that a battle cry?” Leanne said. “It read more like...I don’t know, normal screaming.”

“I tried,” Freddy said.

“He can work on it, it was a good start,” Vell said. “I get the feeling this won’t be the last fight of this race.”

“Well, it could be,” Freddy shouted. He consulted a small screen in his makeshift racecar. “According to this, the three of us are ahead of most of the pack right now. That’s the good news.”

“You say that like there’s bad news.”

“There’s always bad news,” Leanne sighed.

“Well the good news of the bad news is that it’s mostly bad news for me,” Freddy said. “I don’t think this cart’s got enough juice left in it for the rest of the race. Experimental tech, right?”

“At least it, uh, didn’t explode,” Vell said.

“That’s right! Progress,” Freddy said. “I have a plan, though. I’m going to pump my brakes at the start of the loop de loop and save the rest of my battery power for the EMP gun. Since people will be barreling for maximum speed headed into the loop, I should be able to eliminate racers, or at least slow them down, enough for you two to have a clear shot.”

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“Are you sure? We could try to give you a jump, or something, give you a fair shot at finishing,” Vell suggested.

“I appreciate the offer but you can’t really ‘jump’ an ion engine,” Freddy said. “I know what I’m doing, guys.”

“Alright, but we’re at least buying you a pizza later or something,” Leanne insisted. Freddy did not object to that. As they approached the loop, Freddy slammed on the brakes and veered in a circle, aiming his cart’s weapon at the racers who were rapidly closing the gap behind them. Still going at top speed, Vell and Leanne never got to see how his last stand played out. From the fact that they were no longer being harassed by racers every second, Vell assumed it was going well.

“I guess we’re in the clear,” Leanne said.

“Yep.”

Vell glanced sideways at Leanne, and tightened his grip on the reins. Leanne looked sideways at Vell, and the muscles in her shoulders tensed.

“We could still-”

Leanne cut Vell off by hurtling forward in a mad dash for the finish line. Vell muttered a curse around his breath and whipped the reins, firing up his steed. If Leanne wanted a race, he would give her a race.

With the loop de loop behind them and the final lap stretching out ahead, Vell burned through the last of his horses jet fuel. Harley giggled to herself as the robo-horse’s jet fart took Vell into the lead. After hitting the gas that looked a bit too much like gas, Vell found himself a fair distance ahead of Leanne -but he was losing that lead with every step. Leanne’s superhuman strength could match, and exceed, even Harley’s robotics.

Vell glanced warily at Leanne’s terminator-esque sprint bearing down on him, and decided to call Harley.

“Harley! Does the horse have any other secret weapons?”

“It has a gyroscopically stable cupholder,” Harley said. “But that probably doesn’t help much. You asked for a horse, Harlan, it does horse things. If you wanted bells and whistles you should’ve asked.”

“How is a rocket powered ass a ‘horse thing’?”

“Do they not all do that?” Harley said. “But seriously, I added that just for the race. And because it’d be funny. I didn’t have the time or resources to do anything fancy.”

“Alright, I guess.”

“Why do you even care? I’ve never known you to be competitive. Just let Leanne beat you.”

“I don’t really mind, but I feel like she’ll be mad if I just let her win.”

“Well, on the topic of winning, actually-”

“Hold on, she’s catching up,” Vell said. “I need to focus. Talk to you later.”

Vell hung up his phone and took the reins in both hands. With no combat to slow down and drag out the race, the end of the last lap was rapidly approaching from the front, and Leanne was rapidly approaching from behind. Vell kept his eyes ahead and whipped the reins. It didn’t actually help, but it made him feel better.

The pounding of metallic hooves beneath Vell drowned out the sound of Leanne’s footsteps at first, but as she got closer, they got louder. Within seconds Vell could tell Leanne was nearly neck and neck with him.

“Hey Vell,” she said, further confirming her proximity. “How’s the lead working out for you?”

“Cocky isn’t a good look for you either,” Vell shot back. Leanne didn’t waste any breath on a comeback. Just the one taunt had already slowed her down a bit. She didn’t let it show on her face, but the race was starting to exhaust her. She poured the last of her energy into a mad sprint towards the finish line, eventually taking the lead over Vell and his robotic mount.

As she pulled ahead, Vell scoured his mount for any secret, any way to give himself a final boost of speed. He accidentally deployed the cupholder five times, but he didn’t even have a cup to hold. All he had was a ridiculous cowboy outfit, a saddle, and four robotic legs.

Vell took a look at the finish line, and had another one of his trademark bad ideas.

With the finish line only second away, it took a lot to distract Leanne from the finish line. The sound of a robotic whinny managed to do it. Leanne dared to look over her shoulder just in time to see Vell standing on the back of the horse as it ran backwards, jet-powered ass facing the finish line. He had unstrapped the saddle and attached it to his arm like a shield.

“What the fuck are you-”

Vell jumped, and as he hovered in the air, clutching his saddle for dear life, the horse kicked him.

The sudden impact sent him hurtling towards the finish line, soaring through the air faster than the horse had been able to carry him. Leanne watched him arc towards her and had an equally terrible idea. She braced, leaped up, and grabbed on to Vell as he flew.

Firmly trapped in Leanne’s ironclad arms, Vell’s inertia became her inertia, and the two sailed across the finish line entangled with one another. They bounced once, then rolled across the paved racetrack. Lee and Harley, who had started to descend from their seats as Vell and Leanne executed their increasingly stupid gambits, reached the bottom of the stairs just as the two racers rolled to a halt. Leanne, naturally, ended up atop Vell, pinning him to the ground as she looked up at the two.

“Alright, who won?” She demanded, oblivious to the fact that she’d scuffed her arms and legs to the point of bleeding in several places. Unlike Vell’s protective riding gear, she’d rolled down the street in her very light running gear.

“Well, about that, dear,” Lee mumbled. Vell looked up at her, as best he was able to with Leanne holding him to the ground.

“What?”

“I tried to tell you on the phone, man,” Harley said. She pointed further down the racetrack. “That roller skates guy won like a minute ago.”

“Vindication!”

Rock Rolland the Rocket Rollerskater rolled past, shouting triumphantly while he held his trophy aloft. Vell and Leanne watched as he slowly wheeled past.

“I guess we never did catch up with that guy,” Vell noted.

“Well fuck!” Leanne cried.

“Wait, though, who won second place?”

“No one gives a fuck about second place, Vell,” Leanne said. She was used to being absolutely dominant in every physical activity, so coming in second place was tantamount to losing in Leanne’s eyes.

“Okay. Okay. Then, uh…”

“What?”

“What I think Vell’s trying to say is: ‘Could you please stop straddling me, Leanne?’”

It took Harley’s mild teasing for Leanne to realize her awkward position, and Leanne finally unpinned Vell and let him stand. Leanne got her complaints back on track in a second, as much to genuinely complain as to change the subject.

“All that effort to lose to the roller skates guy. Man, what’d I do all- Urp. Excuse me.”

Leanne then retreated to the sidelines to spend a solid two minutes vomiting spent nanobots into the ocean.

“An undignified end to an undignified effort for our two least favorite racers,” Kraid shouted from the announcer’s booth. “And by the way, nobody’s getting that twenty k. You’re all tremendous disappointments and this was a complete waste of my time. Come on, Yes Man, I need to lift my spirits. Let’s go commit some felonies.”

“Yes sir!”

The PA clicked into silence as Kraid presumably abandoned the booth. Vell was just glad to be rid of him. Hopefully. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t turn up to harangue Vell later on. As Kraid left, a few disheartened racers wheeled their way across the finish line, glaring at Vell and Leanne as the two regrouped. Harley handed Leanne a water bottle, which she used to wash the last of the nanobot-infused bile out of her mouth.

“Rock’s throwing a victory party, if you two guys want to do something,” Harley said. “You should probably shower first, though. You guys smell like a combo of sweat, leather, and asphalt.”

“Probably all the sweat, leather, and asphalt,” Leanne said.

“You’re a real scientist after all,” Harley said. “I’m out. See you guys at the party!”

Harley and Lee excused themselves to go socialize while Leanne led the way back towards the dorms. Vell followed a few steps behind, slightly bowlegged due to saddle-soreness.

“You actually going to go to that party?” Vell asked, hoping conversation would distract him from the numbness below the waist.

“Probably,” Leanne said. “I didn’t party enough the past four years. I should probably swing one more while I still can.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Vell said. “If I can still walk after I get out of the shower, I’ll be right there with you.”

“Don’t push yourself. You already went way overboard during the race,” Leanne scolded. Only a lunatic would get himself kicked by a robo-horse to try and win a race. Leanne appreciated the boldness, though. “Thanks for not going easy on me, though. Felt good to have a real competition for once. Even if I did lose to a guy with a rocket on his ass.”

“Don’t mention it,” Vell said.

“No, I appreciate it,” Leanne said. “Honestly, I was kind of expecting you to try and give it to me at the last minute.”

“Well. I wouldn’t do something like that,” Vell said.

“You sure? You’re usually a bit of a people pleaser,” Leanne said. “You’re too nice for your own good sometimes.”

“Maybe,” Vell admitted. “But you wanted a real challenge. Sometimes the nicest thing you can do for someone is be a little mean.”

“Don’t go throwing any more paradoxes into our life, Harlan,” Leanne chided.

“Sorry.”

----------------------------------------

“So,” Kraid began. “How’d the distraction work for you?”

“Everything’s in place now,” Principal Goodwell said. “I should be ready within a matter of days.”

While Kraid would never pass up an opportunity to torment Vell Harlan, he was especially interested in grander schemes -schemes like the one Principal Goodwell had been concocting all year. The race, and Kraid’s presence, had kept the loopers attention focused elsewhere while Kraid’s people made a few deliveries to Goodwell.

“Good. Because between that concert and this race, you’re spending a pretty penny just to distract a few kids,” Kraid said. He tapped his skeletal fingertip against one of the machines Goodwell had prepared. “Seems like a lot of wasted effort.”

“It’s all necessary,” Goodwell assured him. “Don’t underestimate what those ‘kids’ are capable of.”

“I’m not underestimating them, Principal,” Kraid said. “I’m correctly estimating you. You’re an inept lunatic on a path to your own inevitable failure.”

Kraid smiled in Goodwell’s direction, baring all of his fangs in the principal’s direction. Goodwell shook his head.

“It will work,” Goodwell insisted. Then, more quietly: “It has to work.”

“Sure, buddy, sure,” Kraid said. “You keep telling yourself that. And hey, don’t let me get you all the way down. You’re going to generate some real good data for me before it all comes crashing down around you.”

Kraid walked over to Goodwell and rested a skeletal hand on his shoulder. The green flames that suspended his blackened arm burned a little brighter as he latched on to Goodwell.

“I’ll even give you a little help,” Kraid said. “There’s an old friend of mine on campus. And she happens to know quite a bit about Vell Harlan.”