Firestarter

A Cars Fanfiction

By: Naomi Wiflath

Well, we've been driving this road for a mighty long time

Paying no mind to the signs

Well, this neighborhood's changed

It's all been rearranged

We left that team somewhere behind.

Slow down, you're gonna crash,

Baby you're a-screaming it's a blast, blast, blast

Look out babe, you've got your blinders on

Everybody's looking for a way to get real gone

Real gone. – Sheryl Crow Real Gone

“I assure you, I don’t mind really.” The racing auto said reassuringly, shrugging in the only way a vehicle can, which is a forward motion followed by a casual glance. His shining coat of ruby set him apart from most, along with his streamlined body, garnished with white accents along his sides which stretched from the from wheel well backward. Similar to a classic Corvette’s style of paint.

“Alrigh’ man, but I haven’t done this in years.” Replied the 1959 Impala, using his hydraulics to get a higher perspective of his canvas. Today he was the startling hue of orange, fading to purple at his fins. He squinted at the racecar, before returning to ground level. “This is what we gotta’ do man, we need to strip off your old coat of paint so there can be a nice even finish with the new one, it’ll be so sweet you wont know what hit ya.”

The Impala worked diligently on sandblasting the paint off, while the car itself slept. It took a few hours before the racecar awoke, now sporting a new red finish, garnished with tribal blades of yellow arching from hood to trunk. A silver lightning bolt added the final touch on each door, a trademark that couldn’t be left out.

“Check it out McQueen, you look snaaaazay.” The Impala said with a heavy Puerto Rican accent, pushing a large mirror on wheels over to him. The Racecar admired himself in the mirror, jumping to the side and exclaiming ‘Ka-Chow!’

“Ill admit Ramone, this is some of your best work yet, I’m impressed.” Said McQueen, before making faces in the gigantic mirror.

“Don’t mention it man, it was great exercising the ol’ art muscles. By the way, that must have been some nasty fall you had there.” McQueen stopped growling into the mirror to give Ramone a quizzical look.

“Nasty fall? What are you talking about?”

“Look.” He nudged McQueen to the right angle, so the racecar had perfect view of a jagged form stretching itself from above the left front tire to his tail light. It was a horrid and deformed bolt of dull silver, like a corrupted lightning strike. McQueen gave Ramone a displeased look.

“What is this? You missed a spot… or Spots.” He said. Ramone growled.

“Ramone NEVER misses a spot.” He said, deeply offended. McQueen backed away a little with a pained look on his face.

“Woah woah woah, I didn’t mean you weren’t a good body artist. Its just-.” He turned and looked at the abomination in the mirror again. “...What is this?” Ramone gave an automobile shrug, holding out a wheel.

“I have no idea man, but I added the silver lightning bolts to try to disguise it. But no matter how many coats of paint I applied, that damn thing still showed through!” He stomped a front tire in frustration. McQueen frowned, continuing to examine this bizarre scar of metal. He did kind of remember something having to do with the scar, but couldn’t put his tongue on anything but familiarity.

“So, what’s it from man?” Ramone asked, breaking the silence.

“I…” McQueen was cut off by a knocking on the garage door. Ramone hit the door opener, revealing a pale blue Porsche in all her glory. She gave McQueen a gracious smile, and pulled up to admire his new look.

“Nice paint, Stickers.” She said, circling him once before placing a friendly peck on his cheek. He blushed, although the only way you should tell through the red paint is to feel how hot his face had become. He still wasn’t used to sally randomly doing that, especially in public.

He shook off his stupor, to find her waiting at the door, looking back at him in a sign to follow. McQueen gave Ramone a nod of thanks before following her outside. It was dusk, and everything was painted in dusky reds and oranges.

“Where are we going, Sally?” He asked as they pulled onto route 66. “Aren’t you busy with your hotel?”

“Oh I have Luigi holding things up for me.” She replied simply, giving him a playful nudge before speeding off, Her pinstripe tattoo the last thing he can see. He speeds off after her, and they race on the now quiet Rout 66.

After a turn onto a dirt road through a forest of sequoia cacti and stone, It struck McQueen where they were headed.

“Why are we here?” He asked as they pulled up to their final destination, the edge of the giant canyon. He looked down, where the giant crater stood, like someone grabbed a chunk of the earth and took it away with them. Lightning looked back at Sally, whose face was now bent into a look of concern.

“Stickers… Lightning… I overheard you and Ramone at the body shop.” She paused, and stared at him in silence. He had a pained expression on his face when he turned his wound to the moon, where it shined dully against his iridescent new paint.

“I… I know I can remember… Its…-.” Lightning cut himself off, as the world suddenly grew dark. He couldn’t see, but felt an immense fear so strong Lightning couldn’t help but panic.

“Sally! Sally!” He called into the darkness, but couldn’t see anything. He sped through the darkness, franticly searching for her and running at the same time. McQueen was lost, he didn’t know where he was going. All he could do was call her name.

“Sally! SALLY!”