Volume #23: "Fairlane"

She hadn't really had the time to tour the rest of the building. But now was as good a time as any, she figured.

Pontiac entered the elevator at the Castle's great hall, carefully looking over the 230 buttons which would lead to the other floors. Sighing, her eyes gravitated toward the bottom.

"Why don't we start with the basement?" she asked no one in particular, pressing a button at the bottom of the bank. The doors slid closed, and the car started its long descent to the bottom of the gigantic Aerie Building.

When it seemed like the car would never stop, it finally slowed. A small jarring signaled the end of the ride for Pontiac, as the doors opened ...

... to a darkened garage. Pontiac narrowed her eyes against the darkness, trying to make out the vague shapes in the place. Scanning along the walls with her talons, she found a light switch and flipped it on.

The light was weak, but enough to reveal a large vehicle, covered in a canvas tarpoulin. The outline, though ...

"It can't be ..." Pontiac pulled the tarp off of the car and quickly drew in her breath.

It was what she thought it was. A 1958 Ford Fairlane, cherry red with white detail work. Inwardly, Pontiac felt her heart racing with excitement.

"Like it?"

Pontiac turned around quickly, seeing Alexander Xanatos coming out of the other elevator. She was disappointed to be found, but thrilled by the car at the same time.

"I do. Live in Detroit all your life, you get an appreciation for cars." She turned back around. "I remember when these things were new. I learned to drive in one of these."

Alexander chuckled. "I suppose you would have, huh? This one belonged to Rosanna's mother."

"So this is the car that Lex is always talking about. You won't believe me, but I have dreams about this car."

"I believe it. Anyway, it hasn't been driven in about eight years, since Elisa's ..." Alexander grew quiet all of a sudden. Pontiac nodded, understanding.

"Will it still run?"

"Don't know. Rose doesn't drive, and technically the car is hers."

Pontiac carefully opened the driver's side door, unlatching the hood. She opened the hood fully once she came back around the car's front. A confused look came on her face.

"This is weird ..."

Alexander was about to go back into the other elevator when Pontiac stopped him short. "Would Rosanna particularly mind if I fixed this up for her?"

Alexander shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"Okay. Just don't tell her yet, I think I'd like to surprise her."

Alexander nodded. "Whatever you want, Pontiac." He turned and left, leaving Pontiac alone with her new challenge.

The garage had become almost a second home to Pontiac, as she spent almost two hours a night there, working her mechanical magic on the ancient vehicle. And if anyone had asked her, she felt the most useful here, in her element.

As she lay underneath the car with her butane torch, sparks flying all about, she vaguely heard the battle outside. But she could clearly hear the elevator doors opening to the garage. She stopped her activities under the Fairlane, sliding out from under it to see Alexander Xanatos standing there.

"Hi."

"The fight outside's not going well. Shouldn't you be out there?"

Pontiac stood up, removing her goggles and gloves. "It sounds like they've got it well in hand. They don't need me out there. Hell, I can't fire a gun and stay in the air, what good am I?"

Alexander finally decided further discussion on the subject would be fruitless. He looked at the car. "How's it coming?"

"Well, you tell me." Pontiac opened the driver door, slipping behind the wheel. A soft jingle could be heard as she slid the key into the ignition.

"Wish us luck." With a heavy sigh, she turned the key.

The engine roared to life, the unmistakable crackle of a carburetor filling the room. Pontiac stepped out of the car, inspecting her handiwork all around the car. The black smoke from four days ago was gone. So was the loud exhaust noise, which she had just sealed with the high-pressure torch. The suspension seemed to be holding up well. The engine's eight cylinders were firing as they should have.

Pontiac grinned. "Mission accomplished."

Coughing, Alexander called out, "Okay, but can you shut it off now before we both die?!"

She quickly jumped in the window, shutting off the car. Alexander walked up behind her.

"Now will you come out and fight?"

"Okay." Pontiac followed the industrialist into the elevator, shutting off the light in the garage. But as the door closed, she thought she could vaguely see the car glowing ...

"Hey, where were you?"

"Huh?" Pontiac looked up to see Graeme, arms crossed, tapping his foot.

"Where were you when we were getting our butts kicked?"

"Uh, I was ... uh ..."

"Don't worry about it. Just don't let it happen again." Graeme turned to enter the Castle and give his nightly report to the recuperating Rosanna. Pontiac sighed sadly, as Lexington came up to her.

"What's wrong, hon?"

She sighed again. "Can I tell you something in confidence? Just promise me you won't tell Rosanna."

"Okay ..."

"The thing is that I've been restoring her mother's car for the last couple of weeks, kind of as a gift for her, and ... well ... there's something very strange about that car."

The car sat there. But it had moved.

"So what? It's Elisa's Fairlane."

"But it wasn't there when I left. It was still on the jackstands."

Lexington looked under the car. The jackstands had been knocked over. "So, maybe the vibrations of the building knocked it off."

"That's not possible. It was also closer to the elevator. And I didn't put it in neutral."

"Maybe the parking brake's bad."

Pontiac grumbled, grasping her mate by a wrist and dragging him over to the car. Hastily reaching in the window, she unlatched the hood, jogging around the front of the car, opening it up.

"Then how in the hell do you explain that?!"

Lexington's eyes widened, as a faint glow emitted from the engine bathed him in strange blue light. "Whoa ..."

A blast shook the entire building, nearly knocking the two gargoyles off of their feet. Pontiac looked over at the workbench on the far wall, now completely knocked over, its tools spread everywhere.

"They're attacking again. We'd better get back up to the Castle."

The sound of the car's engine starting startled them both. The hood suddenly flew down, closing. Both of the gargoyles looked at the driver's side and saw that nobody was at the wheel.

The horn sounded.

"I think ..." Pontiac climbed into the passenger's seat. Lexington entered the car behind the wheel. Without either of them having to do anything, the doors closed behind them, and the car crashed through the door of the garage, zooming into the street, and into the heart of the battle.

Suddenly, a loud engine sound that was vaguely familiar drew her attention away from the skies. She squinted her eyes, trying to see better what was happening on the street.

Then she saw it.

Her mother's car. In the heart of combat.

Gripping the wheel tightly, Lexington reached down, pushing down on the brake pedal. The non-responsive brake pedal.

"Nothing. It doesn't want to stop!"

He was suddenly thrown against the door by the wheel suddenly jerking to the left, sending the car speeding down another cross street. Pontiac now gripped the armrest as her mate had gripped the wheel.

When she had the courage to look up, she could see the Clan and the Hunters in a desperate battle with another Rokkan patrol. She looked over to Lexington, still fighting the wheel.

"It wants to fight!"

"What?!"

"It wants in on the battle. Look at where it's going!"

The glove compartment suddenly opened. Pontiac looked down at the open box in front of her, then reaching for the object that lay on the door.

Lexington looked at her once more. But now she was armed.

"Where'd that come from?"

"It was in the glove box." An idea flashed on her face, as she rolled down the window. She leaned out the window, holding out the pistol she now held, cocking it.

"Okay, car, get me close!"

"Pontiac, are you nuts?!" But the car responded to her request, skidding around and finding something similar to a ramp. The engine gunned.

"Pontiac ..."

The engine became louder and louder as it built up horsepower. Finally, the clutch popped, laying rubber to the ramp and zooming up it.

"PONTIAC!!"

She was grinning maniacally. The car flew off the end of the ramp, sailing into the thick of the battle. Pontiac took her cue, punching six shots into the arena and taking out three Rokkans. The others on the patrol took that as their cue to leave.

The car landed hard on the cracked pavement, skidding to a halt. Lexington was hyperventilating, eyes wide as Pontiac pulled herself back into the car, blowing smoke away from the pistol's barrel.

"What ... was that?!"

Pontiac giggled, leaping into her mate's lap and embracing him tightly. "That ... was INCREDIBLE!!"

The door opened. Pontiac looked over nervously, as Rosanna entered the room. She became a bit more relieved, though, when Alexander follwed her in. Rosanna sat down behind the desk.

"Well, Pontiac ... it seems you have a lot of explaining to do."

"I didn't mean to ..."

"Wait for me to ask." Pontiac went into stunned silence. Rosanna continued. "Now, what exactly were you doing with my mother's car?"

Pontiac sighed, looking down. "I found it two weeks ago, when I took a look around the building. And Alexander found me. I asked him if I would be allowed to restore it, make it driveable again."

"I let her. I figured there wasn't any harm in it."

Rosanna nodded. "So, what possessed you to take a 62-year-old car into the middle of a war zone?"

"It wasn't what possessed me. It was what possessed the car."

Rosanna and Alexander looked at each other, then back at Pontiac. "Come again?"

"Rosanna ... your mother's car is possessed by a spirit. When I opened the hood the first time, it was clear, because it was glowing. But it wasn't a bright glow. The spirit was sick, and the fact that you don't drive didn't help it any. So I fixed up the car. And when I did, the spirit was healed."

"So the car was driving itself?"

Rosanna sighed, standing up. "Well, you did quite a job of fixing up the car. I must admit, it hasn't been driven in eight years."

"Thank you."

"But that still doesn't answer one thing nagging at me. Why did you do it?"

Pontiac stood up, approaching the leader. "Two reasons. One, I was feeling useless, since in these mid-air battles we've been in, I'm not much use. And seeing the car in such disrepair gave me something that I could do, being a mechanic and all.

"But the main reason was that I wanted to surprise you."

Now it was Rosanna's turn to be surprised. "Me?"

"Alex told me that you're the legal owner of that car. So I thought you'd want it in good shape. The kind of shape it was in when your mother was alive." Pontiac tossed something over to Rosanna, who caught it in both hands.

"Keep it. The car is yours, y'know."

Rosanna opened her hands, finally seeing what Pontiac had tossed her.

The keys.

Rosanna looked up at Pontiac, natural and cybernetic eyes gazing at Pontiac with silent thankfulness. "Pontiac ... it's like having a piece of my mother with me ..."

Pontiac smiled. "You're welcome." The three beings left the room quietly, turning out the light and heading down to the basement.