General Lee's Revenge--Family Feud

Chapter Five: The Meeting

They made it back just in time for the Defect meeting down at the track. However, the car they saw in the winner's circle wasn't a racer. Not anymore at least. Aries nodded to them as they rolled up, completing his headcount. General squeezed in between Titan and the other regular racer: a 1970 Mustang named Spectre. The three new entries were sitting to Aries' left.

Aries revved his engine fiercely before coughing out a cloud of dust. "Excuse me, I'm afraid I'm not as strong as I used to be. Like previous years of running this race, the same rules still apply, no matter how many Defects there may be. Defects, your driver must be present, sitting in the driver's seat. Both of you must cross the finish line in order to qualify. Twenty laps around the track. I expect tomorrow night to be a clean race, no nitrous oxide, and no crashing. Save it for a derby, I don't want nobody dying out there, is that clear?"

The cars nodded collectively.

"Good, now, I'd like to take a moment to introduce the new entries." Aries gestured to the one other Corvette there besides himself. "This's Krash here from Kentucky. But don't mistake him for no racehorse, he made it to regionals after all."

The other Defects laughed, except the blue Charger, of course.

Krash's headlight's flickered up and down, studying Spectre. "I mean, I could be a racehorse, if you wanted me to," he rumbled to her.

The shy Mustang just backed up a little, not saying anything in reply. Titan growled at him judgmentally, revving his engine. It was a clear sign for Krash to back off. Aries honked his horn for their attention to be redirected to him before introducing the next car. He gestured to the 1971 Plymouth GTX sitting next to Krash, black with green decals.

"This is Gravedigger," Aries rumbled, "moved here from the Alabama-Coushatta Reservation. He's a car of very few words, folks. But, don't let his calm demeanor fool you, Gravedigger's a monster on the track. Believe me when I say, stay out of his way."

Titan and General each gave a nod of approval towards Gravedigger. The car didn't say anything and simply nodded back.

Aries revved his engine briefly. "And last but certainly not least, all the way from Detroit, Michigan--"

"General Grant, I presume," General butted in, staring the blue Charger down.

"General Lee," the blue car rumbled.

"This oughta be fun," Titan remarked.

"Tell me, Grant, how bad did you mess up to end up on our good ol' Dixie circuit?" General asked.

Grant didn't answer him.

"Oh come on, I'm just tryin' to make conversation. That is, you city slickers do like to talk, right?"

"No, as a matter of fact, we don't. Look, if you know what's good for you, you'll drop out of first place, before we force you."

"Oh I'm terrified," General snarled sarcastically.

Grant growled at him, rolling forward. Krash hooked his tire, holding him back to ensure that he didn't do anything irrational.

"Watch it, plowhorse. Unless you want me busting in your windshield, I'd stay out of my way if I were you!"

The cars all grew quiet at Grant's hostility. It was clear that he wasn't going to be making any friends on this circuit, nor was he there to make friends, only more enemies, especially General.

General sighed and turned to the side. There was a burn on his passenger side door from Thunder's touch, and Trigger's paint job on his numbers was beginning to show its depressing mortality. The zero was chipped in several spots, the one chipped in three.

"What's this number, Grant?" General asked.

"You don't know?" Grant scoffed.

"The number."

"One."

"Exactly." General turned back to face him. "That's me, I'm number one, not you. Remember that."

"Aaaaand that concludes the meeting of the Defects, you all are free to go," Aries interjected, wedging himself between the two feuding cars.

Spectre murmured something to herself before being the first to leave. Titan went after her just to keep one damn thing between her and Krash. Gravedigger stayed, waiting to see what would happen with Aries, General, and Grant.

"You mind saving it for race day?" Aries asked Grant.

Grant growled once more before pulling away, nicking General's back fender as he passed.

After he was out of earshot, Aries turned to General. "Look, I know I said to keep it clean out there, but rain hell on that boy tomorrow, please. Somebody's got to knock some sense into that thick hood of his. Keep your crown, General, keep your crown."

General nodded and watched as Aries drove away.

Gravedigger rolled up next to him, gesturing towards the pits. "We need to talk."

With that, the mysterious car drove off towards a shady area in the pits. General followed reluctantly, unsure of what this second-Thunder may want. As the two of them came to a tiny camper-trailer parked underneath a tree, a woman came out of the trailer.

She was Native American, long black hair tied up in a bun, tired eyes, and a Merle Haggard t-shirt. She yawned, stretching a little.

"What's he doin' here?" she asked.

"I need to talk to him, won't take long," Gravedigger replied.

The woman nodded and yawned again. "Make it quick, we got a race tomorrow."

Gravedigger nodded and the woman walked back into the trailer.

"Who's she?" General asked.

"Autumn Burningwood."

"No, like, who is she to you?"

Gravedigger didn't answer him and instead changed the subject. "You wanna know what's up with the Detroit car or not?"

"Right, that."

Gravedigger sighed. "His driver lost a pretty hefty bet up north. They had to come down here. You see, his driver's a conman. Bought a hot car not knowin' it was a Defect, lost a bet because it was. They got disqualified. His driver, Bradley Reid, had to con his way onto this circuit. With any luck, the information I have could get him disqualified again."

"Which would be?"

"Knowin' him, he's got some money ridin' on tomorrow's race. That's not the only thing they've got cookin', though. Bradley wants to be sure that he wins tomorrow, so I'm gonna give you this warnin': Don't take fuel, and don't take oil unless you're absolutely sure it's safe. Expect whatever kinda sabotage you can think of, 'cause it might just happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I saw Reid hangin' around the fuel truck with a bag of sugar. If that ain't suspicious, then I don't know what is."

"Sugar?"

"Yes, sugar. Good for humans, bad for cars."

General thought for a moment. "What d'you suggest I do about it?"

"I don't know, tell the others?"

General sighed and nodded. "I'll talk to them in the mornin' and hopefully we can get this thing straightened out. Thanks for lettin' me know, Gravedigger."

"We'll be in touch."

General nodded again before turning to leave.