13. A Title to Defend

Chapter Thirteen

Legend, Number Five

Lafayetteplains, Orchard County

“You’re keeping it tight, right?” Mercedes asked as he leaned over Legend’s open door.

Legend looked up from tapping red lines into place on his car’s Psypher unit. Red like fire. “Standard duel length,” he said. “Unless you were envisioning something different.”

Mercedes shook his head. “No, that’s fine,” he said. “But what about OCR?”

Legend added the final line to the track on his unit and then clicked into the mobile circuit options. “Gossip will call me when they’re finished with the fire,” he said. “And then my Phillipsgrove czar will arrange for another distraction.”

“You mean they won’t bust up our race?” Taboo asked from the other side of the car.

Legend spared him a glance, but didn’t bother to explain it to him as he set up the closed circuit with Taboo, Blood, and his own mobile numbers.

“It would be pointless to have a Numbers Duel take the same format as a Czar Challenge,” Ranger said in response.

Mercedes shook his head. “That’s not even all of it,” he said. “We try to keep the cops out of the duels because they aren’t about that.”

“They’re about absolute real and true skills nothing more nothing less and we’ve already proven ourselves worthy of evading the cops because I’m pretty sure we’ve all been czars at one point in our lives or another well except maybe Mercedes but the rest of us—”

“Blood,” Mercedes said. “Get ready to race.”

The childish man clamped his mouth shut and skipped over to his Camaro.

“I’ll send you the track once we get to the starting location,” Legend said.

“I don’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves,” Mercedes said. “So if you’re going to watch, carpool. Otherwise, stay here. Legend, can you moderate from here?”

“Not here,” Legend said. He stood just on the outside of his car door. Turning, he indicated a small rise on the backside of the barn. “There.”

“Send me the finish line,” Mercedes said. “I want to wait there.”

Legend climbed back into his car and clicked Mercedes’ mobile number into the circuit.

“You brought Little Red today?” Ranger asked as he threw a glance towards the red Mustang.

Red like fire.

“Gotta stretch his wheels out too, you know,” Mercedes said.

“I call shotgun,” Sheriff said. “You coming, Ranger?”

Ranger frowned. “I guess,” he said. “I mean, it’d suck to be left to my own devices here and I certainly can’t let you be alone with Mercy.”

Mercedes turned and dipped his head to Taboo. Legend glanced over as the younger man nodded back and went over to his own car. Ranger and Sheriff piled into the Mustang as Blood and Taboo started their engines.

“Get out to the highway,” Legend said before closing his door. The Psypher unit cast a dim glow onto his face as he started his own car. Four triangles populated the screen and the ghost of a red line began highlighting where the dirt road of the farm met the highway.

Red like fire.

It was perhaps the only part of the track that actually touched state-laid asphalt. Two miles up the straight, flat road, the track veered off and began weaving its way through the neighbor’s meticulously crafted cornfield. The Orchard County Psypher was a genius at getting such details to show up on the unit. Legend watched as the white triangle followed by the green one turned and drove up the dirt road. The red one wasn’t far behind. Red like fire.

Legend pulled his Jaguar around the backside of the barn and gunned it up the short incline there. The hill was small but was tall enough that he could see above the cornfields. It was dark and he might not have had a clear view of the horizon but Legend could certainly see headlights and taillights along the highway and the neighboring fields. He had kept the track true to the length of a duel but still tight enough that he should be able to see most of the race happening in real time. The rest of it would have to be observed on the map.

“Face north,” Legend said as the triangles reached the highway.

“We starting here?” Taboo’s voice replied through the car’s speakers. “Shouldn’t we be racing in the corn or something?”

“I’ll send you the map once you’re in position,” Legend said. Watching new people race in the cornfields. It was one of the few things Legend might have been able to call interesting. Most farmers spread various types of traps throughout their fields to dissuade Orchard County racers. Any good cornfield racer could keep going with a popped tire or two.

Taboo’s green triangle pulled up side by side to Blood’s white one, both facing north. Based on positioning, Taboo was facing oncoming traffic. It wasn’t as if the highways of Orchard were particularly busy at any hour so it was unlikely that he would encounter an issue. It was only a two laned highway but the locals knew that the best way to avoid the issue of a head on collision was to veer off the road and into the cornfields. It almost seemed silly that the other counties discredited such an easy escape route. Not that Legend was one to care.

Once the three triangles stopped moving, with Mercedes’ still parked on the dirt driveway, Legend tapped around on the screen. Such technology didn’t exist when he had been brought up. And at that, poor farmers like his parents wouldn’t have been able to afford it even if it had. It was a simple fact that only illustrated how much change the world had gone through in the past sixty years.

Legend thought that the two blows Raymond delivered in the past month was proof enough of that. The state that had endured a long hard fight to be recognized as its own part of the union, to prove that the manmade shipping, receiving, military base of an island could sustain itself, was finally being put on the map. One of its citizens was now going to be vice president of the whole country and another was the third most wanted man in the country.

A lot certainly had changed in sixty years. But not Orchard County with its green and yellow stalks of corn, its antiquated way of life. And certainly not Legend. Sixty years wasn’t nearly enough time to change Legend.

“The track has been sent,” Legend said. He thought not for the first time that he should ask the Orchard County Psypher if there was a way to change the color of the track line on his machine.

The red triangle pulled onto the highway, turned south, and disappeared from the screen. Red like fire. Of course, changing the color of the line wouldn’t do a thing about people who drove that color of car. Legend tapped the “follow race” button and his screen became centered on Blood and Taboo.

“Start your engines,” Legend said.

“You need a damn traffic light in this part of the county,” Ranger’s voice said.

“I think they’re still working on hanging the one on the main drag of Lafayetteplains,” Sheriff said. “So I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

“Get in gear,” Legend said. “And go.”

The two triangles shot forward. They stayed even with each other as they drove straight down the highway. Legend had seen Blood race through the cornfields before, but he was not sure how well the rookie Number Seven would handle it. The only thing he had going for him was the sturdiness of his car’s body. Going off road with the rear wheel drive drivetrain was bound to be a shock for him initially though.

Legend had to admit that he had never seen Taboo race. He was certain that the man must’ve raced in his presence, though, if he had been a czar for any period of time. It wasn’t like Legend cared. He was certain that he would’ve remembered if he bothered to care.

The triangles rapidly approached the gradual sloping turn off of the highway and into the neighbor’s cornfield. This guy made meticulous rows and columns with his corn, nothing fancy. He was as clueless to the racers presence as the dead owner of the barn, though, so it was always safe to race in his field.

At this point, the track became a straight forward race down one row and up the next. It did this three times before crossing over the highway to land that had remained a few vacant acres for a number of years. The family who had owned the barn used to plant cotton here. There was a half circle of track on this land before it connected back onto the highway and drove to the neighbor’s property line. At that point, the track jumped back off the road, circled around the neighbor’s single story farm house before zipping straight across the backside of his property to the field surrounding the barn. The last leg of the track was along the base of the hill Legend was parked on before heading straight to the highway, half a mile behind the initial starting point.

As Legend suspected, the green triangle hiccupped and fell back as the two leapt off road. Blood swung into the cornfields and his white triangle zoomed forward, making quick work of the first leg of the off road. Number Six must’ve been concentrating hard on the race. He hadn’t said a word since starting the challenge.

The green triangle recovered enough to limp after the white triangle.

“Wow, Blood, an opponent you can beat,” Ranger said.

“They’ll make a cornfield racer out of you yet, Blood,” Sheriff added.

If one was speaking, the other had to have something to say as well.

It almost reminded Legend of the way Ranger had been best friends and rivals with Bronze. But Legend couldn’t be certain. He hadn’t paid enough attention to that to care about it much either.

The green triangle was closing the distance on the white triangle as Blood crossed over the highway to the vacant lot. Neither driver cut the corner short as they twisted back around towards the highway.

Headlights swept the brightening horizon coming up from the south on the highway. Legend spared it a glance but only just before shifting his eyes back to the screen. No flashing triangle had appeared on the map so it was likely just a civilian car.

The participants cut back across the highway to the end of the neighbor’s property line. The two triangles were even with each other again. Taboo seemed to have found his footing for off road driving rather quickly.

The headlights from the highway turned up the dirt road leading to the barn. Legend found himself staring in their direction as he watched the approaching car navigate the road to spit out in front of the barn. Legend’s eyes were old, and the distance made it hard for him to tell what kind of car it was. He only saw the one car down there, light bar on top indicative of Sheriff’s former police cruiser, so Legend decided not to make an issue of it.

The green triangle was in the lead as the two circled around the single story farmhouse. Blood had already lost his advantage, but not by much. Legend had seen how valiantly the man had fought in the last few years just to maintain a claw hold on his Number Seven position. Apparently it was a thing worth fighting for. Legend had never pushed that hard to maintain his rank among the Numbers but it wasn’t like anyone else in Orchard County was interested in being a representative anyway. And there was no glory in it for other counties to challenge the cornfield representative.

Something tapped on the window of Legend’s car. He looked up from the map to see Wolfie leaning over the passenger side of the car. His face was scrunched up in pain and the lenses of his sunglasses were scuffed. Legend waved the younger man into the car and then pushed the mute button.

The green triangle was a whole inch ahead of the white one as they approached the hill Legend was parked on.

Dried blood crunched on Wolfie’s left cheek and Legend could see a few gravel-like abrasions on his face.

“What is this?” Wolfie asked.

“Number Seven challenged Number Six,” Legend said.

“What about the meeting?” Wolfie asked.

“We were finished,” Legend said.

“The winter events?”

“Mercedes didn’t want to talk about them,” Legend said.

Wolfie released a sigh through clenched teeth. Legend looked down to see more dried blood on the thigh of Wolfie’s right pant leg.

“You had a good reason for being late then,” Legend said.

Wolfie looked down at the wound himself. “It clotted.”

The green triangle was back on the highway then and the race was reduced to a half mile stretch of straight road. Blood was a few seconds too late getting on the highway himself for it to have mattered. The green triangle reached the end of the track, marking Taboo as the winner.

“I remember when street races were confined to a quarter mile stretch of road,” Legend said, not because it mattered that he could remember when, but just because it was a fact. Blood might have won this race if it was still a fact.

“Congratulations,” Mercedes’ voice said over the speakers. “We have a new Number Six.”

The speakers beeped and Blood’s white triangle disappeared as he disconnected from the circuit. Legend didn’t have to see him on the screen anymore to know that Blood continued on down the highway heading back towards Gin County.

Legend disconnected himself from the circuit and brought his car back down the hill and around to the front of the barn. Mercedes and Taboo were pulling off the dirt road as Legend turned off his engine and climbed out. Wolfie got out of the Jaguar as well.

“What happened?” Wolfie asked as Mercedes emerged from his car as well, followed by Sheriff and Ranger.

“Numbers Duel,” Ranger said.

“So good of you to join us,” Sheriff added, voice touched by a flavoring of a Spanglish childhood. He gave Wolfie’s right thigh an appraising look but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t their place to ask, and Legend supposed Wolfie might even constitute the question as fishing for information. Legend, of course, didn’t care one way or the other what had happened to Number Two.

“The winter events,” Wolfie said.

“Yeah,” Taboo agreed. “Now that I’m Six, I think we should talk again about having them in Tenth County.”

Wolfie whirled on the other man, a snarl replacing the pained look on his face. “You are the most junior Number here,” he said. “My seniority dictates that the events should take place in Lupine.”

“We’re not having those events this year,” Mercedes said. “Not after everything that’s happened.”

“The new vice president is working on a measure to end the street racing,” Sheriff said.

“And Mercedes was added to the FBI’s most wanted list,” Ranger said, obviously annoyed that Sheriff had taken his point.

“You know, that’s all the more reason why we should be hosting these events,” Taboo said. “Do you want to just give up before anything even begins happening? If that’s the case, why don’t you just turn yourself in to the FBI right now?”

Ranger rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, Mercy, he has a point,” he said. “If we fold now, who knows what they’ll do to us?”

“I’d rather go out with a bang, if I’m going to go out at all,” Sheriff said. “I’d say that Solstice Scrap and the New Year’s Bash would make the right kind of bang.”

“Legend?” Mercedes asked.

Legend brought his eyes to Mercedes’ face. “Orchard County will do what you think is best,” he said.

“Way to have a backbone,” Ranger said.

“Cornfield racers,” Sheriff snorted.

“Alright,” Mercedes said, putting his hands up as though in surrender. “We’ll hold the events like normal. But I want everyone to be extra careful. All czar challenges are to be frozen. I’ve already frozen them in my county. We won’t have any mixed rank races this year at all.”

“And I can host it?” Taboo asked.

“Wrong,” Wolfie growled.

“Since when do you have interest in hosting these events?” Taboo asked. “As long as I’ve been a racer, we’ve never gone to Lupine for this.”

“All the more reason why we should,” Wolfie said.

“I guess this is why Tenth County split from Lupine to begin with,” Sheriff said. “A difference of opinion.”

“It was actually political,” Ranger said.

“Mercedes,” Wolfie said. “I want to put in a bid to host these events.”

“Me too,” Taboo said.

Mercedes looked from one to the other. “I actually think that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you each to host the events,” he said.

“You’re going to make me split it with him?” Taboo asked.

“I wasn’t going to have these events this year because of how dangerous it would be to get a bunch of racers gathered together in one county,” Mercedes said. “If you each host half of the events, then our ranks will be split between the two counties and law enforcement won’t be able to lay an all-encompassing trap.”

“Are you talking, like, I take the Scrap and Lupine takes the Bash?” Taboo asked. He shot a glare towards Wolfie.

“No, I mean like half of the events for both the Scrap and the Bash will be hosted in Tenth and the other half will be hosted in Lupine,” Mercedes said. “You two are autonomous Numbers. I’ll let you work out who is doing what amongst yourselves. The Solstice Scrap will start on December eighteenth and will end on December twenty-fourth this year. And the New Year’s Bash will start on December twenty-ninth and end on January third. Plan for the Numbers’ main event to take place on the day of, so the twenty-first and the first.”

“I know that,” Taboo said.

“I’m only telling you this because I know you don’t know what you are doing,” Mercedes said. “Just because you beat Blood don’t think anything has changed for you.”

“Not yet,” Taboo said. He turned and eyed Legend pointedly. “I’m coming after you next, Number Five.”