Race for Revenge

by Chase Wheeler

  “And is still doing!” said Speed. He was feeling better, and he was anxious to get moving. “The important thing is to finish digging out the Mach 5 and catch up to the Mélange before your brother strikes again.”

  “All right, Speed,” said Lily, wiping the from her blue eyes. “Thanks for those kind words. Just tell me what I can do to be of help.”

  “Start digging,” said Trixie.

  “Right as usual,” said Speed. “Let’s dig the Mach 5 out of the snow and get it started. We had better hurry! Who knows where the Mélange could be right now?”

  “Or what my brother will try next! ” said Lily.

  16

  OUT OF CONTROL

  Leaving the avalanche far behind, the Mélange raced to catch up with the last of the Three Roses cars. The road ahead was clear of snow.

  Overhead, in the helicopter, Flash was working the remote and grinning with anticipation. “Only one more to get rid of! Then my revenge will be complete.”

  Finally, the Mach 5 was back in action, with Speed at the wheel and Trixie close beside him. Lily had stayed behind to wait for the police.

  The mighty engine roared as Speed negotiated the switchbacks of Danger Pass. The speedometer read 240, the fastest he had ever gone!

  He sped into a tunnel without slowing, skillfully avoiding the rock walls. A boulder, loosened by the avalanche, blocked the way! Speed used his hydraulic auto jacks to leap over the boulder and sped on.

  Trixie pointed up ahead. “There’s the helicopter! ”

  “We must be near the Mélange,” said Speed. “Hang on!”

  Trixie hung on happily. She was never afraid when Speed was at the wheel.

  Flash looked down from the helicopter and frowned. “The Mach 5 again! So, I didn’t get rid of Speed Racer after all.”

  The Mélange sped across a bridge spanning a cold, icy river. The Mach 5 followed a few moments later.

  Then they rounded a sharp curve.

  “There’s the Mélange! ” shouted Trixie. It was just ahead.

  “I don’t want to wreck it,” said Speed, unfastening his seat belt. “I have another plan.”

  “You do?”

  “You’ll have to drive the Mach 5, Trixie. Don’t be scared.”

  Trixie’s eyes were wide with horror. Speed was climbing out his window, onto the car’s hood!

  “But I am scared!” Trixie yelled.

  “This is no time for fear, Trixie! Take the wheel!”

  Trixie summoned all her courage and slid into the driver’s seat.

  Surprising even herself, she drove skillfully until the Mach 5 was side by side with the driverless Mélange.

  “Good driving!” shouted Speed as he jumped from the Mach 5 into the empty Mélange.

  He took the wheel and spun it, left and right. The car didn’t respond. He tried the brakes. They didn’t work, either.

  “I have to find the remote control!” he said. “Once I disconnect it, I will be in control of the car.”

  The radio crackled. Flash had been listening. “No time, Speed. I’m in control.”

  Speed looked ahead. The last Three Roses car was only a few car lengths ahead on the narrow road. Speed looked under the seat, then under the dash. No luck!

  “The remote control receiver has to be somewhere in the car, but where?”

  He lurched from side to side as Flash made the car weave, trying to throw him out. He tried the wheel again.

  It came off in his hands!

  “Hahaha,” laughed Flash over the radio. “You haven’t much time, Speed!”

  The driver of the Three Roses car was looking over his shoulder. His eyes were wide with terror. “The Mélange is after me!” he cried. “Help!”

  “You don’t deserve it,” muttered Speed. “But I will try.”

  Speed had one last idea where the remote receiver might be. He climbed over the windshield. The 200 mph wind almost blew him off the car.

  He gripped the hood with his fingertips and held on for dear life.

  “Careful, Speed, you’re liable to hurt yourself out there! ” Flash’s voice on the radio sounded gleeful. He was having fun!

  The road narrowed over a high cliff. Below was the icy river.

  The Mélange was closing in on the Three Roses car, about to ram it, and Speed Racer was helpless. But he had to keep looking for that remote receiver.

  With a mighty effort, he pulled the hood open. Underneath, on top of the engine, he saw a bundle of wires leading to a black box.

  The remote receiver!

  He ripped out the wires just as the Mélange nudged the side of the Three Roses car, sending it into a sideways skid.

  “Aaah!” screamed the driver. He jumped free just before the car went over the cliff.

  Above, Flash worked the joystick in panic, but it did no good. The remote was disconnected, and the Mélange was spinning out of control.

  Speed held onto the hood for dear life. Then he felt the car crash against the guardrail.

  Then he felt weightless, as he and the Mélange soared through the air, toward the river far below.

  17

  TEARS AND LAUGHTER

  In the helicopter far above, Flash watched the Mélange crash through the guardrail and fall into the icy water. He crushed the useless remote control in his hands.

  Angry tears streamed down his face. “Oh, no, the Mélange! My father’s beautiful car has been wrecked. What have I done?”

  He had finally gotten his revenge. But it had cost him his soul.

  The Mach 5, with Trixie at the wheel, and the police caravan screeched to a halt on the track. They ran to the broken guardrail and looked down. Lily was with them.

  “Speed! Speed!” they all cried.

  There was no answer. They saw only the burning Three Roses car and the rushing river where the Mélange had drowned.

  The only movement was the helicopter, which was flying over the chasm, spinning from side to side like an angry bee. Then it swooped upward and disappeared over a distant mountain peak.

  “Flash! Come back!” cried Lily.

  But he was gone.

  Meanwhile, Trixie was crying. “Speed! Oh, Speed!” she wailed. Heedless of her own safety, she ran down the steep slope toward the river, jumping from rock to rock.

  “No one, not even Speed, could have survived that crash,” said Sparky, fighting back his own tears as he ran after her. Inspector Detector and Pops Racer followed more slowly, picking their way through the jagged boulders.

  Behind them, Spritle was wailing, “Waaaaah!”

  Chim Chim joined in.

  “I’m the one to blame for losing Speed,” said Inspector Detector gloomily. “I had no one else to turn to and we badly needed help. I should never have asked him to do it.”

  “I wish there had never been a Mélange,” said Pops. “I wish I had never heard of racing!”

  Trixie sat down on the riverbank. She had never felt so lost and so alone.

  Then she heard splashing behind her.

  She turned and saw a familiar figure swimming toward her. He was shivering with cold—but smiling!

  “It’s Speed!”

  He reached the shore just as Trixie, Pops, Spritle, and Chim Chim all ran to greet him and hug him. They knocked him back, and they all fell into the water together.

  Then they climbed out, laughing and shivering.

  “Glad you’re safe, Speed,” said Inspector Detector when they were all back on shore.

  “So are we all,” said Pops.

  “We thought you were done for! ” said Sparky.

  “The Mélange is gone forever,” said Speed Racer as he gave Trixie a big hug. “But surely you all knew I would be okay!”

  Then they heard sobbing.

  Lily was sitting on a boulder, all alone. She was looking toward the distant ridge where her brother had disappeared.

  “I know I will never see him again,” she wailed. “Flash is too ashamed of what he has done. He is gone f
orever.”

  Good riddance, thought Speed. But he knew better than to say it.

  “I remember when my brother was little. He was such a good boy,” Lily said with a sob. “Too bad he had to change.”

  “It was the desire for revenge that did it,” said Speed.

  “Always remember him when he was little and forget the way he turned out,” said Trixie. She took Lily’s hand and led her up the hill to the waiting cars. “I just want you to know that Speed and I will always be your friends.”

  “Oh, will you?” Lily cried. “I’d like that more than anything else in the world! And I hope that someday maybe you and everyone else in the world will forgive Flash.”

  She wiped away her tears—then followed Speed and his family and friends into a brighter future.

  SPEED’S BONUS RACE

  The Danger Pass race was a DNF (did not finish) for the Mach 5 and me. But that was okay. I knew I would be able to try again the next year.

  Flash Marker was not so lucky.

  I felt sorry for what had happened to him. He wasn’t all bad. The desire for revenge had twisted him and caused him to do evil. But in his own misguided way, he did it out of love. Perhaps, if things had worked out differently, we might even have been friends. I wish I’d had the chance to compete against Flash in a fair race, where he was trying to win instead of just racing for revenge.

  Danger Pass reminds me of another race where I was trying to stop another man who was consumed with hatred. But his story turned out differently. He was able to learn his lesson before it was too late.

  It all started with a drive in the country ...

  The Car Hater

  One: Reckless Drivers

  The Mach 5 sped through the countryside. The powerful engine roared, making a beautiful sound. The tires sang as they gripped the curves.

  140, 150 mph! Speed Racer was nervous. And no wonder. He wasn’t driving. He was in the passenger seat!

  “I love taking the wheel,” said Trixie, Speed’s girlfriend. “Thanks for letting me drive.”

  “Take it easy,” said Speed. “The speed limit here is only 80 mph!”

  Trixie slowed down. “I didn’t realize we were going twice that fast! ”

  Speed checked the rearview mirror. He saw a car coming up fast. He didn’t want to get a ticket. But it wasn’t the police. It was a convertible, and it was weaving from side to side.

  “A reckless driver! ” he said.

  The convertible was filled with teenage boys. They pulled alongside the Mach 5 and taunted Trixie. “You drive just like a girl!”

  Trixie tried to outrun them, but they caught up on the curves and smashed into the side of the Mach 5 again and again.

  Speed took the wheel to help out. “Stop that!” he yelled. They were denting his precious car!

  The reckless teens smashed into the Mach 5 again. Then they lost control and their convertible went into a dangerous spin.

  The Mach 5 was just about to plow into them when Speed reached over Trixie and hit a button on the steering wheel, extending the Mach 5’s auto jacks.

  The sleek race car flew into the air, barely avoiding the skidding convertible. As soon as the wheels were back on the ground, Trixie hit the brakes.

  They pulled to a stop. “That was a close call!” said Speed.

  “It sure was!” said Speed’s little brother, Spritle, as he popped out of the trunk. He and his pet chimpanzee, Chim Chim, were always stowing away somewhere.

  Just then the reckless teens pulled up alongside the Mach 5. They jumped out of the convertible with wrenches and tire irons. “Let’s mess up their car!” they said.

  “Oh, yeah?” Speed was just about to take them on when the teens stopped suddenly. “This is the Mach 5! ” one said.

  “And that’s Speed Racer! ” said another.

  Soon, instead of fighting, they were asking for Speed’s autograph!

  Two: Hot Stuff

  Later that afternoon, Speed was in a soda shop with the teens, giving them advice on driving.

  “A racer is never reckless,” he said, wanting them to know how dangerous their driving earlier in the day had been.

  But little did they know that a group of thugs was nearby, listening. The thugs were envious of Speed. They thought he was a show-off.

  “Think you’re hot stuff?” they asked Speed.

  Speed tried to ignore them. But the thugs were determined to cause trouble. They attacked with bottles, chairs, and fists. Speed knocked them out, while the teens looked on admiringly.

  “Had enough?” Speed asked, “or would you like some more?”

  “No more! cried the thugs as they crawled away, out the door.

  The teens all laughed and Speed went back to giving them advice and telling them racing stories.

  Three: Weapons

  Trixie was bored. She had heard most of Speed’s stories.

  She looked outside the soda shop and saw a pretty girl admiring the Mach 5.

  Spritle was showing her the controls, while Chim Chim looked on.

  Trixie joined them and introduced herself. The girl’s name was Janine. “This is a fabulous car,” she said. “I would like to be a race car driver someday, but my father will never let me. He hates cars! ”

  Trixie had an idea. “Would you like to drive the Mach 5 around the block?”

  “Would I!”

  With Janine at the wheel, they started around the block. Suddenly they heard hoof beats. A man on a horse came around the corner.

  The Mach 5’s engine spooked the horse, and it began to buck. Speed ran out to help. The rider was thrown off.

  Janine ran to him. “Papa!”

  As Janine’s father, Mr. Trotter, looked up at his daughter, his eyes flashed with rage. “Janine! You were driving that car! I told you never to drive a car!”

  He stood up and began to kick the Mach 5. “I hate cars!” he cried. “All cars are weapons on wheels. I hate them. They should be destroyed.”

  Speed Racer tried to calm him down. “When they’re driven right, they are perfectly safe! ”

  “Don’t tell me that! ” raged Mr. Trotter. “I lost my son in a car accident, and I hate all cars. Janine, I want you to come home right away.”

  And he jumped on his horse and rode off. With tears in her eyes, Janine followed on foot.

  Four: Too Many Accidents!

  Later, in the family garage, Speed looked on while Sparky and Pops repaired the dents in the Mach 5. Some were from the teens’ convertible, and others were from Mr. Trotter’s kicks.

  “The paint is scraped completely off,” said Pops Racer, shaking his head. “What happened?”

  Before Speed could explain, Pops held up a newspaper. There were several headlines about dangerous car accidents.

  “You have to be more careful, Speed,” he said. “There are too many accidents these days.”

  Meanwhile, in a mansion across town, the car hater, Mr. Trotter, was reading the same newspaper.

  “Too many accidents!” he muttered. “If there were no cars, there would be no accidents. Look here, Janine!”

  He handed his daughter the newspaper. She took it without answering. She knew better than to argue with her father about cars.

  “Janine, I don’t want to catch you around a car again. Do you hear me?”

  “Sure,” she said. She looked at the back page of the paper and smiled.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out, Papa.” She walked out the door.

  Mr. Trotter picked up the paper and looked at the page his daughter had been reading. BIG RACE TODAY! it said.

  Suddenly, Mr. Trotter knew where his daughter had gone. And he knew what he had to do.

  Five: Turmoil on the Track

  “How’s the new track?” Trixie asked as Speed pulled into the pit in the Mach 5. The big race was almost half over.

  “Great! ” said Speed.

  “Hello, Speed!” said a girl’s voice. It was Janine!

&n
bsp; “What are you doing here?” Trixie asked. “Won’t you get in trouble?”

  “I can’t help it,” said Janine. “I love being around fast cars!”

  “Me too,” said Sparky, making a quick adjustment to the Mach 5.

  Just then, Janine’s father rode up on his horse. “I told you, no cars!” he shouted. Janine ducked behind the Mach 5 and burst into tears.

  “They shouldn’t build racetracks! ” Mr. Trotter shouted. He rode his horse out onto the track, into the path of the speeding race cars.

  “Stop! ” shouted the racing officials. But it was too late. Tires screamed as the race cars jammed on their brakes, trying not to hit the horse and rider.

  The lead cars spun out, and the rest of the cars piled into them. The noise was deafening. The track was filled with twisted metal. Dazed drivers sat in their wrecked cars. It was a catastrophe.

  Mr. Trotter looked on, pleased. “There,” he said. “That gets rid of some cars!”

  Mr. Trotter rode off, triumphantly. Police and racing officials tried to follow, but they were stopped by an oil drum that had been rolled down the grandstand stairs by three thugs—the same thugs Speed had worked over in the soda shop.

  “We hate cars, too,” they told Mr. Trotter. “And we need a job.”

  Mr. Trotter tossed them a business card with his address. “Come see me tonight,” he said. “I think we might be able to work together.”

  Six: Dirty Work

  That evening, the car hater met with the three thugs. “We must show everyone how dangerous cars are,” Mr. Trotter said. He gave the thugs their orders—and a stack of cash.

  Just then the phone rang. It was his daughter. “I’m not coming home,” she said, “not until you change your mind about cars.”