Mike se snaží zeptat Lucy, co si všechno pamatuje

 But unfortunately Lucy doesn’t remember anything.

 She has memory loss. Mike understands that and lets Lucy be.

 On the way Mike plays in the car radio the song Hardcaste & McCormick - Drive.

Lucy looks at Mike strangely with the sentence: and what is this?

Mike replies: classic!

 A car thief who was taken under the protective wings by a retired judge and together they solve unsolved cases and Coyote X was a damn ride! American dream!

Lucy doesn’t understand a single word.

Mike: Manta Montage, combined and... DMC 12 DeLorean! And in the second season of the series the chassis that car had was Volkswagen Beetle.

 Interior Ferrari. Which you wouldn’t be able to drive because it has a manual transmission!

Which you Americans can’t drive.

Lucy: and, anything else interesting?

Mike: Yeah... When I look at you. You are like senior Hardcaste and I am a young dude like McCormick.

 You old, me young. What’s going on? Moreover... This car was made approx 7 pieces in the world! You don’t have that!

Lucy calmly runs a credit card between her fingers with the sentence: You wanna bet?

Mike: oh... I forgot that next to me is sitting Paris Hilton!

Lucy smirks.

Mike: Sorry not sorry

. But we’re running out of gas.

We are on Road 66.

And I see a cool gas station that looks like a hybrid of 80’s and modern.

Lucy: still better than your car, which doesn’t have value even five dollars.

Mike: Lucy, bite your ass!

Mike gets out of the Delta, hinges creak..

Mike with a firm step goes into the gas station. He buys Snickers, chips, dried meat, some salad in a can for Lucy.

 A box of donuts, the gas station attendant fills a full tank. Mike sits in the car and says to Lucy: here you have salad and chocolate for your nerves so you stay in chill!

Lucy frowns and stabs Mike with her look!

Mike stuffs himself with a tuna sandwich.

When he looks into the rearview mirror and says: no, damn it, not this!

Lucy: what’s going on?

Mike slammed the Delta’s door and in that instant the rearview mirror slammed into his eyes. In the distance, in the middle of the shimmering hot air of Road 66, a nightmare materialized.

 Pink dots on white paint, which in the distance glimmered like spoiled candies.

 Above the cabin of the ice cream truck, like a raised middle finger to the sky, rose the barrel of a six-barreled minigun.

“This is not good…” Mike exhaled.

“What’s your problem?”

 Lucy didn’t even bother to take her eyes off the book titled: How to Live with a Psychopath.

Mike: Where do you get these books?

Lucy: since the time I know you!

Mike: really funny....

“Killing the Prince of Crossroads apparently blew the fuses of reality.

Contracts are screwed and right now Sweet Tooth from Twisted Metal is coming straight at us!”

“Who?”

“A psychopathic clown from PlayStation, Lucy! Fuck, get down!

Not because of you, but I don’t want to clean the seats from your blood!”

A second later the horizon barked.

From the barrel of the minigun burst out a meter-long flame and the air was cut by the sound of tearing canvas.

The first salvo blew apart the gas station stands.

A fiery mushroom shot to the sky with such intensity that the shockwave lifted the rear of the Delta.

Mike buried the pedal into the floor.

The Delta roared, the supercharger screeched like a wounded animal and the car shot forward, while behind them the world was turning into an inferno.

“You blew something up again?!” Lucy screamed, pressed against the dashboard.

“Exceptionally no! That clown did it! Look, he’s psycho, you’re psycho… don’t you want his phone number?

You could make a perfect couple!”

Lead started drumming into the trunk. The rear lights of the Delta exploded in a rain of red plastic and glass, which splashed across the road like crystallized blood.

The rearview mirror in the cabin evaporated into a cloud of shards after a direct hit.

“No! No, no! Not again! My Delta is becoming a sieve again! It’s not a tank, damn it!”

Bullets were now tearing the roof. Mike heard how the steel twisted under the assault of projectiles, until with a metallic screech the entire upper part of the body separated and flew off into the desert like a giant, massacred can lid.

“I didn’t want any fucking convertible!” Mike yelled and jerked the steering wheel off the road.

The Delta flew into the sand. Every jump over uneven ground hurt more than a bullet to the shoulder.

 Without the roof, the body began to bend under the force of the jumps, until it broke in the middle into a terrifying V shape.

Mike uncontrollably broke through in a three-meter jump of the Delta in the air a direct impact of the front part of the vehicle into the forged gate of the local cemetery. Cast iron cracked, the Delta shook to its foundations.

Mike: Damn! Hammering out the bumper will cost 300 dollars!

“Do you trust me?” Mike yelled over the roar of the engine.

“No! I know you!”

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing!”

“Oh my God, we’re both gonna die here!

For the first time in my life I’m praying and I’m half a demon!” Lucy gripped the handle so hard that the plastic cracked.

Mike reached for a hastily attached switch.

Click. From the rear of the Delta dropped an auxiliary tank – one hundred liters of pure gasoline wrapped with two blocks of C-4. The tank spun uncontrollably in the cemetery dust, directly under the wheels of the speeding ice cream van.

Mike waited until the pink dots were for a second above the charge.

He pressed the remote detonator with his thumb.

FLASH.

Then a booming blast that knocked the breath out of the lungs.

The ice cream truck lifted into the air in a fireball, made two flips and with a thud overturned onto its side.

Burning remains of tires and cones began to fall around.

Silence. Only crackling of fire and the hissing of the Delta’s radiator.

“What the fuck was that?” Mike wiped blood and dust from his face. “Is Freddy Fazbear gonna chase us in a moment to the sound of Toreador?

“Who?”

“Fuck, FNAF! Five Nights at Freddy’s! Watch the surroundings!

Stupid animatronic!”

“Did we kill that maniac?” Lucy exhaled and slowly straightened up.

“Nope…” Mike looked at his broken love.

“As I know Twisted Metal, we only slowed him down.

Next time that van will turn into a robot like Transformer. The only thing we killed is my Delta. Fuck!

It’s broken, the engine has a burned gasket, radiator is shit… and we are in the ass of the world on some cemetery.”

From the Delta’s engine escaped the last puff of steam, as if the car breathed out for the last time.

Mike leaned on the steering wheel and in the distance on Road 66 the hot air began to shimmer again.

Mike stood over the Delta, which looked like the broken back of an old horse.

From the radiator leaked the last remainder of blue liquid and mixed with the dust of the cemetery.

Lucy wiped soot from her forehead, glanced over the metal wreck and coldly said: “Once scrap, always scrap.”

Mike sharply turned to her, eyes bloodshot: “Don’t make me sick, Lucy! It’s a classic!”

“It’s fate, Mike.

This wreck simply died where it belongs.

In a cemetery,” she shrugged and poked with the tip of her shoe into a piece of chrome that fell off the grille.

“Hey, it’s not that bad…”

Mike’s voice jumped into a hysterical tone.

“It just needs a bit of bodywork, a few hours in the garage… but otherwise…

otherwise it’s totally fucked!

So who’s pulling now what?!

Do you have any idea, or are we gonna wait here until that clown from that van scrapes us off the ground like paste?”

Lucy looked at him with that superior smile of hers that pissed Mike off more than the minigun.

 “What about your Coyote X?”

“Really funny… Don’t play Elon Musk, Lucy! Life is not poker in a casino where you can bluff endlessly.

What do you want to do?

Pull another ace out of your sleeve like a magician?”

“Don’t underestimate me,”

Lucy muttered and pulled out the newest iPhone from her pocket.

Mike just watched as she tapped something on the display and put it to her ear. “Yeah… this is exactly the car I want.

Here and now. You have the coordinates.”

Mike stared at her: “What are you talking about?

Is a cargo helicopter with a load supposed to land here like in some action movie?”

Instead of an answer Lucy just winked at him.

Her pupils in that moment flooded with black, like when you drop ink into clean water. The demon in her inhaled.

It didn’t take even twenty minutes.

The silence of the cemetery was cut by the pounding rhythm of rotors.

A massive twin-engine helicopter emerged from the clouds like a mechanical god and on thick steel cables lowered to the ground a polished, aggressive silhouette.

Red paint shined in the setting sun. Coyote X.

When the chassis touched the ground and the cables released with a metallic click, Mike just stood there with his mouth open.

“Well fuck me on bare back…”

he exhaled.

He walked around the car, stroked the hood and then with a strange shine in his eyes turned to Lucy.

 “Alright… Lucy. Are we getting in?”

“I am,” said Lucy and reached for the handle.

“You’re not!” Mike stepped in her way.

“What do you mean?” Lucy frowned.

“We’ll play a game of chicken,” Mike said with a voice cold as the tomb beneath them.

“Chicken game. Over there on that main road between the graves.

Now I have a limited car from a series, you don’t know what I’m capable of! We’ll drive against each other.

 Head-on. At full speed. Whoever swerves first is a coward.”

Lucy stared at him like his brain had finally leaked out of his ears. “You really want to kill yourself, Mike!”

Mike just smirked, got into the Coyote X, opened the door upward and immediately started revving the engine, which began spitting blue smoke from the exhaust like a screen.

“Maybe…”

Maybe I want to kill myself...!

scrap, always scrap.”

Mike sharply turned to her, eyes bloodshot: “Don’t make me sick, Lucy! It’s a classic!”

“It’s fate, Mike.

This wreck simply died where it belongs. In a cemetery,” she shrugged and poked with the tip of her shoe into a piece of chrome that fell off the grille.

“Hey, it’s not that bad…”

Mike’s voice jumped into a hysterical tone.

“It just needs a bit of bodywork, a few hours in the garage… but otherwise…

otherwise it’s totally fucked!

So who’s pulling now what?!

Do you have any idea, or are we gonna wait here until that clown from that van scrapes us off the ground like paste?”

Lucy looked at him with that superior smile of hers that pissed Mike off more than the minigun. “What about your Coyote X?”

“Really funny… Don’t play Elon Musk, Lucy!

Life is not poker in a casino where you can bluff endlessly.

What do you want to do?

Pull another ace out of your sleeve like a magician?”

“Don’t underestimate me,”

Lucy muttered and pulled out the newest iPhone from her pocket.

Mike just watched as she tapped something on the display and put it to her ear. “Yeah… this is exactly the car I want.

Here and now.

You have the coordinates.”

Mike stared at her: “What are you talking about?

Is a cargo helicopter with a load supposed to land here like in some action movie?”

Instead of an answer Lucy just winked at him.

Her pupils in that moment flooded with black, like when you drop ink into clean water. The demon in her inhaled.

It didn’t take even twenty minutes.

The silence of the cemetery was cut by the pounding rhythm of rotors.

A massive twin-engine helicopter emerged from the clouds like a mechanical god and on thick steel cables lowered to the ground a polished, aggressive silhouette.

Red paint shined in the setting sun. Coyote X.

When the chassis touched the ground and the cables released with a metallic click, Mike just stood there with his mouth open.

“Well fuck me on bare back…”

he exhaled.

He walked around the car, stroked the hood and then with a strange shine in his eyes turned to Lucy.

 “Alright… Lucy. Are we getting in?”

“I am,” said Lucy and reached for the handle.

“You’re not!” Mike stepped in her way.

“What do you mean?” Lucy frowned.

“We’ll play a game of chicken,” Mike said with a voice cold as the tomb beneath them.

“Chicken game. Over there on that main road between the graves.

Now I have a limited car from a series, you don’t know what I’m capable of! We’ll drive against each other.

 Head-on. At full speed.

 Whoever swerves first is a coward.”

Lucy stared at him like his brain had finally leaked out of his ears.

“You really want to kill yourself, Mike!”

Mike just smirked, got into the Coyote X, opened the door upward and immediately started revving the engine, which began spitting blue smoke from the exhaust like a screen.

“Maybe…”

Maybe I want to kill myself...!

Mike ran his fingers over the steering wheel of the Coyote X for the last time.

It was like saying goodbye to a lover you are sending to death.

A click of mechanics, the cassette slid into the slot and the silence of the cemetery was cut by the opening chorale of Kansas – Carry On Wayward Son.

Mike held the clutch in a tearing bite, with his right foot crushing the gas and the tachometer danced in the red zone, as if it wanted to break through the glass of the gauge.

At that moment, from the wreckage of the gas station, in the middle of the blazing inferno, Sweet Tooth emerged.

The van moved out of the fire with a terrifying smoothness like T-1000 made of liquid metal.

No brakes.

Only pure hatred on four wheels.

Mike kicked into first gear.

Coyote X shot forward.

The rear axle reared toward the sky under the force of hundreds of horses, the tires tore chunks of dirt and tombstones.

Both vehicles rushed at each other like two projectiles. Dust, sand and madness.

At the last millisecond Mike jerked the wheel.

The red arrow slipped past the white van by the thickness of paint.

Sweet Tooth immediately turned after him.

The heavy van began ramming the fragile rear of the Coyote. Every impact shook Mike’s spine.

The car went into a skid, but Mike with icy calm released the gas, let the weight of the car settle, and kicked it again.

“Hold on, girl!” he yelled when the Coyote at full speed hit a massive piece of stone.

The car lifted off the ground.

 A few seconds of absolute silence, when under the floor he felt only emptiness, and then a crushing impact.

Side to side. Metal on metal.

Sparks flew into the cabin, the paint peeled off in strips and mixed with the swirling dust.

Lucy watched the scene with her mouth open, her demonic calm in ruins.

At that moment a metallic grinding was heard.

 The van began to reassemble while driving. Panels lifted, axles rotated.

“Great… One more fucking Transformer was all I needed here!”

Mike hissed through his teeth.

“Who are you? Optimus Prime or fucking Bumblebee?!”

From the transforming monster flew the first rocket. Mike weaved between graves, explosions drove sand into his eyes. He saw nothing.

Only the red dashboard and smoke.

“I’ve had enough of this!”

Mike left first gear engaged so the engine kept screaming in the limiter, kicked the door open and rolled out of the cockpit.

Coyote X, with the engine revved to madness, flew over the edge of the cliff like a red streak.

Sweet Tooth in robotic form, blinded by the hunt, fell straight after it.

What followed was a fall that lasted an eternity. And then…

an apocalyptic flash.

A pillar of fire scorched the bottom of the valley.

Mike slowly got up from the dust, brushed off his coat and with complete calm looked at Lucy: “Yeah, this is how we do it where I’m from in Ústí!”

Lucy stood there like petrified.

“Where did you learn to drive like that?!”

“Back home in Ústí nad Labem, dear.

You would never manage a manual and rev-matching. For that you need balls, not just black eyes.”

“Are you insane?!”

she screamed and pointed into the abyss.

“You just destroyed a car of which there are only seven pieces in the world!”

Mike felt for a cigarette and with his last strength smirked: “Nope. Now only six.

Write it off your taxes, your money can handle it.

The car served its purpose…

and while we’re at it, my Delta won’t end as a wreck in a cemetery.

You owe me a new roof!

 And anyway…”

“Are you ever interested in anything other than your shitmobile?”

“Sure, your credit card. So don’t be mean!”

“Do you want to kill me, Mike?”

“Not yet. I quite like your life. And besides…

 we need to get out of this ass of the world somehow.”

Lucy turned to leave, her heels crushing the cemetery gravel. “I really hate you!”

“Hate and love are close to each other, Lucy!

And I’m hungry! Besides…

 this wasn’t the last attack. I can feel it in my bones.

 Next time it will be worse.”

In the distance below the cliff something metallic creaked.

As if something in that fire was putting itself back together again.

 Mike didn’t pay attention, finished his cigarette and walked toward the horizon.