A map appeared, showing twin paths. We were on the left. Both roads had a big blinking red dot right about halfway through. The dots were relatively close to one another, meaning it was possible we’d be able to see both of these boss monsters at the same time.
Hedy moved to the chain to open the garage door, revealing a torrential downpour. Lightning crackled across the sky, followed by a loud bang.
Bucket Boy gave me a nervous look. “So, you’re going to teach me to drive now?”
I nodded. I suddenly had to shout because the rain was so loud.
“Look, it’s easy. You have two pedals down there. The one on the right...”
I trailed off as a new message came in.
Tran: Oh fuck. Got some shitty news.
Imani: What’s wrong?
Zhang: Sorry, guys. Confirming Prepotente’s theory is mostly correct. Na killed five of the other teams, and we have four replacements at the starting line. Two are NPC teams, but two are crawler teams, including Tran’s team. Na is just sitting there behind me, not reacting. I have the reins for this one. I don’t know what to do.
Donut jumped to my shoulder as I felt myself sag.
And so it begins.
“Goddamnit,” I said.
[ 18 ]
“Brakes!”I shouted as we lurched to a stop. We heaved one more time, almost running into the car in front of us. The rain continued to pound. I was crouched next to the driver’s seat, my hand pressed against the dash for stabilization.
Bucket Boy continued to whine. “Wait, I have to keep my foot on this brake the whole time?” He had the chair almost fully reclined, allowing him to use the pedals without bonking his snout.
“If it’s in drive, then yes,” I said. “But you’re going to put it in park. No, not reverse. Park. Yes. Now you can take your foot off the pedal. We’re going to keep it in park for now. Don’t touch anything until I tell you to.”
We were stopped next to the bugbears’ van. To our left was a steep ditch. As long as Bucket Boy could keep the steering wheel straight, we’d be okay.
The bugbears’ van blared music. It was an Elton John song, and it was loud enough to hear over the rain, but I wasn’t familiar with it. Something about making friends. Jasha sat behind the wheel, cigarette hanging from his mouth. He gave us a wave.
The eight vehicles were positioned side by side in four rows.
The rain just kept coming and coming. We didn’t have working wipers, not that it would matter after I shattered the windshield. For now the rain didn’t hit us as all eight vehicles and mounts were under a giant awning. Still, the sound of the rain was almost deafening. There wasn’t any hail yet.
Right in front of the bugbears sat the pile of vines that was Dwight the unicorn and Lucienne the whatever the hell she was. Team Sparkles. The little French rodent was no longer on the head of the unicorn, but submerged in the vines, her helmeted head sticking out the top. I still had no idea how they “drove” the thing.
Dwight, meanwhile, was engaged in a shouting match with the group to their immediate left, which was the team right in front of us.
Girth the Trouble.
Their vehicle was a bright yellow 1950s Chevy Bel Air with a massive blower popping up from the hood. Red flames were painted on the side of the car. It was like a real-life Matchbox car. We’d seen plenty of similar cars during our time in Cuba, but nothing this tricked-out. Leaning out the passenger’s side, screaming their head off at the unicorn, was some sort of slime creature. It was human-shaped, sort of, and it appeared to be made of translucent gelatin. Like someone had taken an Operatic slime, but clear-colored, and smashed it into a gingerbread man cookie cutter. It wasn’t wearing clothes. It leaned all the way out the passenger’s side of the car, screeching at the unicorn. I assumed there was at least one more behind the wheel. It was something called a guck elemental, and his name was Masterplan.
Masterplan’s voice was deep and loud. I had no idea what had started their fight.
“You can go fuck yourself right now,” Masterplan shouted at the unicorn. “Team Sparkles? More like ‘team suck mygelatinous dick.’ You’re lucky we’re not on the same track this race. I’m going to rip that girlie horn off your stupid horse head and stab it right into your heart!”
“I’m a unicorn, not a horse, lube boy! And I’d love to see you try, you fucking idiot!” Dwight shouted back, his voice cracking. “I’m going to wear your spleen like a hat! Then we’ll see who’s girlie.”
“Carl, keeping these people alive is going to be impossible,” Donut muttered.
“I know,” I said. We could only kill one team. If a second died, then all this would be for nothing. But we couldn’t risk coming in last place, either.
Lucienne popped up and also shouted something while shaking her little rodent fist, but I couldn’t hear her over the rain.