She climbed over the door and hopped into the driver’s seat. The inside of the car was decked out with speakers, a DVD-equipped television, voice-activated controls, and a top-of-the-line global positioning system.
“Get in.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Simon whined.
Ignoring him, Tonya placed her paratransmitter onto the leather seat next to her and tapped the steering wheel with her wand. The car jumped ferociously as if it were alive.
“Please fasten your seat belts,” the computer system prompted.
“Thank you,” Tonya said. She put on her seat belt and turned to look at Simon. A group of soldiers had found them. “Get in, Simon!”
With little time remaining, Simon leapt headfirst into the back seat of the car. Tonya slammed the gas pedal to the floor. The sports car lurched forward and sped off down the street like a rabbit in heat.
“Don’t worry, Simon,” she called back to the boy being tossed around. “I watched real closely when Abu was driving us.”
“AAAH!” Simon yelled as she veered to the side and bumped into a parked car. “That’s just what we need: driving lessons from a cab driver!” He fumbled with the seat belt, but it wouldn’t fasten.
“Wow, this isn’t as easy as it looks,” she said, stopping the vehicle three times in quick succession.“No wonder a car smashed into the rock cafe.”
Simon rolled his eyes. He pictured in his mind the ornamental car that used to protrude from the previous Hard Rock Cafe building.
Tonya moved slowly into the flow of traffic. “You know, I must admit, I didn’t see any rocks in the cafe, soft or hard.”
Suddenly, a person dressed in a dark overcoat hopped into the back seat of the convertible.
“How’s it going, punk?” Butch asked menacingly.
Tonya gasped at seeing the young man in the rearview mirror. By this time, she had merged fully into the stream of traffic and was too scared to slow down or take her hands off the wheel. Haphazardly, she wove in and out of her lane, nearly hitting an 18-wheel diesel truck.
“Butch, what are you doing here?” shouted Simon over the roar of the engine.
“I just happened to be in the neighborhood, and I thought I’d drop in.”
The sound of police sirens filled their ears as the wheels of the car squealed through a red light. The digital voice warned, “You are approaching a street light.”
“You’re a little slow, car,” Tonya teased.
“Caution, you are driving twenty-seven miles per hour over the speed limit,” the car retorted.
“Keep driving,” Butch said.
“What do you want from us?” Tonya cried. She brushed several long strands of red hair out of her face.
Butch grabbed a handful of curly hair and pulled the frightened girl to the back of her seat. “I want that transmitter thing you’ve got,” he said coldly in her ear. Tonya strained to reach the gas pedal, but Butch held her back. The sports car began to slow down.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she screamed.
“Don’t lie to me,” Butch spat. “I heard you talking about it when you were hiding in the dumpster.”
With her back pressed against the seat, Tonya could barely hold onto the steering wheel. The car swerved into the opposing lane.
Tonya struggled to free herself from Butch’s grasp. “Let—go—of—me!” She released the steering wheel entirely and pointed her wand behind her. A sparkling stream of light shot out of the wand and missed Butch’s head by inches. He let go of her hair.
She forced the car back into the right lane. With one hand on the wheel and another clutching her wand, the young girl sprayed out a barrage of spells, but none of them made contact with Butch.
The two boys ducked in their seats as Tonya flailed her arm around wildly. She hit a fire hydrant with one beam of light, then a dumpster, and then some metal trash cans at the edge of the curb.
The sports car ran over a pothole in the road, causing everyone to fall back into their seats. Tonya inadvertently sent a stream of magical light into the sky, which scattered a flock of pigeons that had been nestling on a window ledge above.
A large semi-truck started to cross the intersection in front of them. Gasping in horror, Tonya dropped her wand in her lap, reeled the car to the left, and whizzed past the truck. The police followed suit, forcing the semi to jackknife onto the sidewalk. Pedestrians scattered for their lives.
* * *
A Cocker Spaniel barked ferociously at the fire hydrant that had been previously hit by one of Tonya’s out-of-control spells. The red fire hydrant vibrated with harsh grinding sounds. Suddenly, the cylinder of metal stretched itself ten feet into the air. The top part of the fire hydrant split open and formed a gaping mouth full of sharp, metallic teeth. It thrashed around like a snake for a few seconds and then, without warning, came crashing down onto the poor dog below—swallowing it whole.
While this was happening, a short, stubby man eating a hot dog walked up to his immaculately clean car and pulled off a parking ticket that a police officer had placed under his wiper blade.
“Oh, crud,” he mumbled to himself as he crumpled up the piece of paper.
Just then, a small bird-dropping splattered on his clean windshield. Extremely perturbed, the man began to wipe off the mess with his ticket.
An ominous, dark shadow loomed overhead and made a loud warbling sound as it passed by. The unsuspecting man looked up to see what it was, and, at that very moment, a shower of white bird turd completely drenched him and his beautiful car. Revolted by the pungent smell and feeling absolutely disgusted, he wiped his face and attempted to open his eyes.
The horrible noise of crunching metal sounded from behind. When the man turned around, he saw a humongous pigeon perched on the top of his car, sagging the roof with its weight. Before he could scream, the bird snatched the hot dog out of his trembling hand and swallowed it in one bite.
Nauseated with fear, the short man stumbled backwards, away from the enormous bird. The pigeon twitched its head back and forth and hopped to the ground, but before it had even landed, the man’s tiny car was propelled forward by the impact of something large. A massive dumpster had crashed into the vehicle. It chomped down on the hood like a dog consuming a bone. Two hefty legs of metal lifted the dumpster off the ground and allowed it to move about with incredible agility. Presumably, the dumpster had intended to gobble up the oversized bird but, instead, ripped the car apart with its powerful jaws.
After pulverizing the vehicle, the dumpster sprang into the air and landed on a minivan nearby. The windshield and side windows burst from the excessive weight.
Silver trash cans with legs of their own ran through the street like chickens with their heads cut off. One by one, the dumpster squashed the little cans under its doglike claws. Just after crushing the last trash can, it spotted the gigantic pigeon hopping away.
The dumpster knocked over a newspaper stand and bumped into parked cars while chasing the bird down the street. People fled in hysteria. Suddenly, the pigeon turned around, opened its beak wide, and sprayed a hot flame from its mouth towards the spastic dumpster. Badly scorched and starting to melt, the dumpster took one last leap towards the large bird, but the pigeon jumped into the air and flew off.
The animated fire hydrant, now extending thirty feet from the concrete, squirted water at the cars as they passed by. Seeing the singed dumpster not too far away, the metallic snake coiled and struck, piercing right through the dumpster’s thick walls.
The dumpster rolled on the ground to get away, but this only hindered its escape; the movement simply allowed the fire hydrant to wrap itself around its prey more efficiently. Lying on its side, the dumpster’s metallic feet kicked violently as the fire hydrant squeezed the life out of the metal box. The walls began to warp from the pressure, and the hinges began to buckle. In a desperate fit of rage, the dumpster seized the head of the fire hydrant with its huge jaws and clamped down
tightly until, a moment later, both entities lay motionless on the ground.
* * *
Still driving frantically, Tonya had no idea of the chaos she’d caused with her misguided spells; she was more interested in keeping the car in one piece.
“Warning! It appears that you may be driving recklessly,” announced the car. “In the event that you are pulled over by a police officer, you could face possible suspension of your driver’s license.”
“I don’t think it’s my driver’s license these cops are after,” Tonya yelled. “Besides, I don’t have a license!”
Not bothering to slow down, Tonya took a sharp turn into a narrow alleyway. Butch and Simon flew to one side of the car. Several police vehicles and two army jeeps stood at the end of the road—leaving nowhere for Tonya to go. She stopped the car and looked back to see her pursuers blocking the pathway behind her. She was trapped.
“If you have been drinking, it is advisable that you stop driving immediately,” the car stated. “Would you like me to call one of your listed designated drivers for you?”
“Not now,” Tonya said as she revved up the engine.
“What are you doing?” Simon cried.
Tonya didn’t respond. Instead, she slammed her foot on the gas pedal and raced down the street towards the soldiers and officers sitting in their cars.
“You’re going to kill us!” shouted Butch.
He reached over the seat to take hold of the steering wheel, but Tonya held on firmly. The policemen prepared to jump out of their vehicles. Butch grabbed Tonya’s wand from her lap and waved it around chaotically.
“Stop!” he commanded, flicking the wand at the car. “Stop! Freeze! Halt! Stop-Stop-Stop! This stupid thing doesn’t work!”
“Here, let me try,” Simon yelled. He took the wand from Butch’s hand. “Alakazam! Hocus Pocus! Pretty please?”
“Give me that,” Tonya said in a disgusted voice. She snatched the tiny wand from Simon. The two boys closed their eyes and screamed. Within a few feet of ramming into a police car, Tonya yelled, “FLY!”
The black convertible leapt from the ground as if it were driving up some invisible ramp. Its rubber tires brushed the top of the first police car and knocked off one of the flashing red and blue lights.
The sports car jumped over the rest of the vehicles and landed upright onto the wall of a high-rise apartment building. Not losing any momentum, Tonya continued to drive. The wheels whirled against the side of the structure. Falling backwards into their seats, Simon and Butch opened their eyes in dismay.
“Sensors indicate that the alignment of the wheels is no longer properly balanced,” the car droned. “Please have the vehicle checked by a mechanic at your earliest convenience.”
“Oh, shut up!” yelled Butch.
“Voice prompts deactivated. Have a nice day,” the computer system said before going into standby mode.
Tonya zoomed over a little boy’s bedroom window, which shocked the child so much that he closed his curtains and ran down the hallway to get his parents, screaming the whole way, “There’s a car driving up our building! There’s a car driving up our building!”
The flying car shot twenty feet above the apartment and came to a slow halt in midair—like a roller coaster reaching the summit before a great fall. Time seemed to stand still as Simon, Tonya, and Butch gazed dreamily at the Apache helicopters hovering on both sides of them.
Feeling woozy, Tonya turned her head sideways to look at the helicopter to her left. She imagined the aircraft’s blades twirling in slow motion. “I feel dizzy,” she whispered.
Tonya put her hand to her mouth and coughed. When she withdrew her hand, her palm was wet with blood. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She didn’t know if the sickness came about by the food she’d eaten, the bumpy ride she’d just had, or by the simple fact that she was afraid of heights, but whatever the reason, it was enough to make her faint.
The lethargic dream ended abruptly, and the car began to drop from the pale blue sky. Plummeting downward with tremendous speed, it appeared as though someone had just pressed fast forward on time itself.
Simon felt his small body float away from his seat. He reached out and grabbed Tonya’s paratransmitter, which was also levitating. Butch seized the other end of the device and dragged it and Simon towards him.
Back in the apartment, the little child’s mother ran to the bedroom window and impatiently ripped open the curtains. “How many times have I told you not to make up stories, young man?” At that moment, the car rushed by and created a huge gust of wind that blew the woman backwards onto her son’s bed.
“See, Mommy, I told you there was a car driving on our building,” said the innocent boy with a proud smile.
Outside, Simon turned his head towards the driver’s seat and yelled over the loud whistling of the car, “Wake up, Tonya. WAKE UP!”
“Good afternoon,” chimed the car as it awoke from its sleep mode. “Welcome to the RX1000 voice-activated guidance system. Would you like your daily horoscope?”
Tonya opened her eyes and responded sleepily, “No, thank you, car.”
“Tonya!” cried Simon.
Realizing where she was, Tonya grabbed the steering wheel and forced the car to glide upwards from its descent. Just before taking flight, the rubber tires brushed the same cop car on the ground as before and knocked out the remaining red and blue flashing light.
The Apache helicopters chased after them as they flew above the streets of New York City. Tonya wove throughout the town, darting around buildings and flying under billboards to lose her pursuers, but the convertible was no match for an army helicopter. Although the Apaches were armed with air-to-air Sidewinder, Stinger, Mistral, and Sidearm missiles, the pilots hesitated to fire within the confines of the city. Instead, they tried to flush the car into the open where they could shoot it down without hurting innocent people.
All the while, Butch and Simon fought for possession of the paratransmitter. If it were not for the car’s sudden drops, dives, and jumps, Butch would have easily been able to rip the book from Simon’s arms.
“Give me that thing,” Butch said. He shook the young boy against the leather seat.
A row of flashing lights came to life on the paratransmitter. Strange characters filled the digital place markers, and a three-dimensional image of a white planet appeared on the display.
“Tonya, something’s happening!” Simon yelled.
Totally engrossed in her driving, the teenager rotated around the Empire State Building as if she were following a trail up a tall mountain peak. Unfortunately, both helicopters were hugging the car so closely that Tonya could hardly maneuver.
Butch reached into his black overcoat and pulled out his ivory-handled knife. He plunged the blade deep into the leather seat—just inches away from Simon’s face. In horror, the boy gazed at the sharp fangs protruding from the gaping mouth of the white cobra in the handle. He noticed the menacing snake was staring back at him with just one green emerald eye; its other eye must have fallen out on some previous venture.
The row of lights at the top of the paratransmitter started to go out—one by one. Tonya screamed, and both boys turned around quickly to see what was wrong. A blazing stream of fire blew over their heads, and a giant pigeon came into view. Tonya let go of the wheel and covered her eyes as she collided with the massive bird in midair.
At that exact moment, the last light on the paratransmitter went out, and an explosion of blue electricity erupted all around them. The car disappeared immediately, leaving the charred remains of a fried pigeon and hundreds of scorched feathers to fall to the ground.
Down below, the stubby man drenched in bird turd was trying to convince a disbelieving police officer of his predicament when the cooked pigeon fell onto the officer’s car, pulverizing the vehicle to the ground. The officer got to her feet and gazed in utter disbelief at the burning carcass. The short man smiled, his story suddenly gaining a new level of plau
sibility. “Now do you believe me?”
* * *
Rivers of what looked like thick, red blood mixed with orange oil saturated the colossal walls of the parastream. The two liquids rippled as waves of energy pulsated through the cavern in a heartbeat rhythm. A labyrinth of large tunnels jutted in every direction—each pathway leading to infinite possibilities. The glow of electrical blue light flickered on their faces as the momentum of the wormhole pushed the car along with tremendous force.
“What have you done?” yelled Tonya. “The mobile paratransmitter wasn’t designed to transport this much weight!”
While being propelled through the vast maze of tunnels, the black convertible vibrated as though it were about to fall apart. Simon wondered if the journey would ever end as they passed though dozens of conduits at breakneck speeds.
Tonya experienced a feeling she had never felt before: car sickness. Butch and Simon, on the other hand, continued to fight over the magical book. Neither of the boys paid much attention to the countless passageways that zipped past them.
“Let go,” Butch growled, raising his knife above his head.
With his black overcoat outstretched, the sophomore looked like some sort of demon, especially while standing on the seat and hovering over the boy. Simon’s eyes widened, not because of the sharp knife but because of the sudden drop he saw that the car was about to make as it followed the pathway of the slipstream.
Simon let go of the paratransmitter. “Okay, it’s yours.”
An evil grin of triumph appeared on Butch’s face as he clutched the magical book.
“See ya later, Francis,” Simon said, grabbing his seat belt with both hands.
Confused, Butch turned around just in time to see the car take a nosedive. The young man soared out of the convertible—along with the paratransmitter—and was swept into another tunnel.
Simon dangled in the wind, desperately holding on to the seat belt with all the strength he could muster.
Paraworld Zero Page 6
