Page 49 of The Cauldronball Run
J.J.
The new finish line was at a truck stop just outside the Holland Tunnel.J.J.could see the setup as they approached: banners, timing equipment, and a small crowd of race officials and hangers-on.
Through the windshield, J.J.could see the dragons' motorcycles approaching the timing banner.Farrah had her foot to the floor and the ambulance’s engine was straining, pushing as hard as it could go. But they weren’t going to catch the dragons.Torch and Blaze were about to claim the quarter o prize.
Disappointment flooded through him, but not as bad as he expected.
"They deserve it," Farrah said.
"Yeah, they do."
But as the dragons approached the finish line, their engines making victory sounds, a blur of speed passed by the ambulance and the motorcycles. Grizz’s patrol car zoomed across the finish line like a missile launched by pure spite and righteous indignation.
"What the hell—" Torch's voice cut off as Grizz's patrol car skidded sideways across the timing banner, blocking the finish line completely.
“Brake, brake,” J.J.said bracing his hand on the dashboard as Farrah slowed the ambulance down.
The sheriff climbed out of his car, badge extended like a holy symbol.His voice boomed across the truck stop."Y'all are under arrest for conspiracy, reckless endangerment, interstate flight, and making a mockery of proper law enforcement."
The timing officials rushed forward with clipboards and stopwatches, consulting their equipment frantically.
Farrah parked the ambulance in the truck’s stop parking lot and she and J.J.got out to get a better look at what was going on. The other racers sped in and parked as well.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the head official announced through a bullhorn, "we have our winner: Sheriff Grizzley T.Lawman, representing Fairweather County Law Enforcement.”
"I’m not part of your degenerate law breakers," Grizz bellowed."I'm arresting them.This is official police business."
The crowd erupted with confused applause.
"Congratulations, Sheriff.Your time qualifies you for first place in this year's Cauldronball Run.The prize is two hundred and fifty thousand gold."
"I said I ain't—wait, what now?"Grizz's expression shifted from righteous fury to bewildered confusion."Did you say two hundred and fifty thousand gold?"
The officials carried two large sacks each."Congratulations on your victory.!"
As Grizz stood there staring at the four bags filled to the brim with gold pieces,Pop Goes the Weaselplayed as the troll’s RV and the Mister Softie truck finally rolled to a stop at the edge of the parking lot.
The Mr.Softie driver climbed out, and the music mercifully stopped.He was a haggard-looking man in a stained uniform who looked like he'd aged ten years in five days.
"Is it over?"he asked desperately."Can I leave now?"
Everyone turned to stare at him.
"Who the hell are you?"Grizz demanded.
"I’m just an ice cream vendor. I need a drink.And a shower.I need to get home.My wife is going to kill me.”He climbed back in his truck, turned the key.But when he tried to drive away, the engine sputtered and died completely.
"No, no, no!"He turned the key again.The engine caught, andPop Goes the Weaselbegan playing at double speed and triple volume, like a demonic remix.
The ice cream truck suddenly shot forward, tires smoking, the music now so loud it set off car alarms.The driver was screaming, though no one could hear him over the hellish carousel tune.
"Stop that vehicle,” Grizz said, tossing his bags of gold into the front seat of his patrol car.“It's possessed.”
The entire law enforcement contingent took off after the runaway ice cream truck, which was now doing donuts in the parking lot before shooting off down the highway, leaving a trail of smoke and dropped ice cream bars.
Within thirty seconds, every single law enforcement vehicle had abandoned the truck stop to chase the Mister Softie truck, whose music could still be heard like a sugar-fueled banshee wail.
The racers stood in stunned silence.
