William Arden: Hot Wheels

Pete nodded. He tried the small door. It was unlocked. They stepped through into the parking floor. Only one night light was lit, far to the rear, near the elevator.

They listened in the darkness.

There was no sound.

“He’s gone,” Pete moaned in despair. “And Kelly’s with him.”

Ty listened. “I’m not so sure. Hear that?”

Pete heard the small tapping sound. Like something light hitting metal. It seemed to come from the rear of the room to the right of the elevator.

“It’s a fingernail hitting a car!” Pete said. “It’s Kelly. Come on.”

He hurried among the cars with Ty close behind. They came out in the rear at the open aisle near the elevator. They stood in the aisle and listened.

Car lights suddenly blazed on their right.

Lights aimed directly at them along the cross aisle where they stood!

A car at the far end of the aisle roared into life. There was a scream of tires as it shot toward them, gaining speed at every foot.

They jumped back out of the aisle as the silver car slammed past and screamed to a halt, smashing into parked cars at the far end of the aisle.

“It’s a Rolls-Royce!” Pete exclaimed.

He had no time to say anything more. The Rolls backed, turned, screamed in a circle, smashing more cars, and thundered back toward them.

“He’s going to try to crush us between cars,” Ty cried, “jump!”

They scrambled again as the Rolls slammed into the car they had been hiding behind, crushing it into the next one and the next.

They ran.

But wherever they ran the Rolls-Royce pursued them, crashing into cars, slamming cars into each other, tearing off fenders and bumpers.

Ty pulled Hatch’s pistol from his belt and tried to get a clear shot at the charging Rolls as it pursued them around the dark garage.

“Kelly’s in there!” Pete yelled. “Don’t shoot!”

“I’ll try for the tires,” Ty cried, and sprawled again out of the path of the relentless Rolls.

It was turning into a wreck itself, but the powerful handmade car kept moving. It was far too strong to be as badly damaged as the cars it hit.

Suddenly Ty saw a clear shot at its tires. He fired twice.

“Missed!” Ty groaned.

The Rolls lurched off and sideswiped four more cars, slamming them into one another in a tangle of torn metal.

This time it did not try to follow the guys. Instead, it moved toward one of the cross aisles.

“He’s going to get out!” Pete shouted.

“It’s the gun!” Ty cried. “He won’t risk the gun.”

The Rolls raced down the cross aisle that led to the main front aisle. Ty and Pete pounded through the mangled cars to cut it off.

“He’s got to get out to unlock the doors!” Pete shouted. “We’ve got him!”

They had almost reached the double doors when the Rolls squealed in a sharp left turn and came down the exit aisle at full speed.

“He’s not going to stop!” Ty yelled.

At high speed, yet almost in slow motion, the great silver car smashed straight through the heavy wooden doors.

“Back to my car!” Pete cried. “Hurry!”

“No time,” Ty said, panting. “He’s going to get away.”

Pete didn’t answer. He ran through the smashed doors.

The silver Rolls, going too fast, had failed to make the full turn into the street. It had skidded into the fence on the other side and was backing and turning to drive away. Pete ran along the street and around the corner to his Fiero.

“He’s got too much head start, Pete,” Ty cried as they tumbled into the Fiero.

But as they rounded the corner the Rolls was still there! It swayed and wobbled and jerked along the street like an injured duck.

“It’s damaged.” Ty grinned. “We — ”

“No, look!” Pete cried.

Inside the car, shadows struggled.

“Kelly’s fighting him. Trying to stop him.”

Even as Pete spoke, the passenger door of the Rolls flew open and Kelly sprawled onto the street.

The Rolls-Royce raced away.

Kelly jumped up right in the path of the Fiero. Pete skidded to a stop. He leaned out.

“We’ll catch him, Kelly!”

Kelly pulled the passenger door open and tumbled over Ty into the narrow backseat.

“Not without me you don’t,” she snapped, and smiled breathlessly at them.

Pete grinned at her.

“Hang on, then,” he said. “This is going to be a dynamite ride.”

Pete caught up with the battered Rolls in less than three blocks. Even Ty was pale as Pete drove like a madman, following the great silver machine through every twist and turn it tried to make.

Together the two cars raced through the dark streets.

The Rolls plunged across a vacant lot, dodged among the pillars under the freeway, drove down the railroad tracks. It couldn’t shake Pete. It turned the wrong way up one-way streets, tried to outrun them on the straight beachfront boulevard.

There was no escape from Pete’s determination.

Finally Hatch made a last desperate attempt to reach the freeway. The entrance was a sharp left turn under an overhead bridge. For one instant it seemed that the fleeing chop-shop operator would make it.

Then Pete cut the Fiero in front of the Rolls as it slowed for the final sharp turn into the entrance. Hatch swerved around the Fiero, hung on the edge of the entrance, skidded sideways into the massive concrete freeway support, and came to a steaming, shuddering stop.

Ty was out of the Fiero in an instant. He ripped open the Rolls-Royce’s door and dragged Jake Hatch out by the collar. He hustled the dazed Hatch into the backseat of the Fiero and sat on him.

“I guess Hatch knows now who’s got the hottest wheels,” Ty said.

Kelly looked admiringly at Pete. He grinned at Ty and drove back to the garage.

When they arrived, everyone was out front. Tiburon and the Piranhas stood off to the right, waiting. The prisoners were guarded by Bob. Pete added the still dazed Jack Hatch to the prisoners.

“Anyone call the police?” Ty asked.

Bob nodded, “Jupe said he was going to.”

Pete looked around. “Hey, where is Jupe?”

A terrible moan came from inside the garage. Jupiter stood among the litter of smashed cars. He was staring at the demolished remains of something they couldn’t recognize. Then Bob guessed what it was.

“It’s your new Honda?”

The little blue and white car was a total wreck! Hatch had smashed into it again and again.

“No wheels.” Jupiter groaned. “And now I’m broke, too!”

The others comforted their despairing leader as best they could. Ty promised he’d help Jupe get an even better car.

“There’ll be some insurance money,” Ty said. “And we’ll think of something to make extra cash.” He smiled. “Hey, did you call the cops, Jupe?”

Jupiter sighed. “When I saw my car, I forgot.”

Then he managed a weak smile. “Well, at least we got the chop-shop ring, and cleared you, Ty!”

Police cars suddenly appeared at both ends of the street Officers jumped out with guns drawn and ran toward the guys and their prisoners. In the lead were Detective Cole and Sergeant Maxim.

“Hey,” Ty said. “That Sergeant Maxim thinks he finally caught me red-handed, guys!”

And with a big grin, Ty raised his hands in mock surrender. The Three Investigators just laughed.