Halo

I kept my head low and hid my face below my hat and sunglasses. If anyone here got sight of my face they'd surely recognize me. But the mob of people barely noticed as I stood in the crowd. The mob swayed almost as one being, moving like a limb. It was cheering, and the sound echoed off the dome's rickety walls. It swayed silently along with the mob. People were screaming and waving their arms, hands, and whatever else they could rise into the air.

The people were sitting in a stadium surrounding three monstrous trucks on a race track. The track itself was far too small to hold the three huge automobiles, only covering a football field ring on the bottom level. The trucks were painted bright vibrant colors designed to catch your attention. They were clunky, boisterous objects that looked as though they could take down a building. They growled and spit behind their respective gates as if they were alive and angry.

The arena held four gates in all. Only three were occupied by the trucks. Below us, on the track, the people were in three different groups, each surrounding their prize trucks like flies to a carcass. One of the parties was wearing grey. They were standing so tightly packed they looked like a depressing cloud or a hovering mist. Bandanas, hats, clothes, and even faces were the same dull color. Their monstrous truck was painted a sleek silver, so bright that it was blinding. But there wasn't much to paint; most of the truck was an accumulation of car parts and extra motors placed here and there.

The other group of people were adorned in bright yellow. They all seemed to share something in common with each other. All had logo type markings on their forearms. The logo was simple yet elaborate. It was a single electrifying bolt of yellow-gold lightning. The color matched perfectly with their attire. This smaller mob also hooped and cheered, sharing the same nervous confidence of winning, even though they knew two of the three had to lose.

The third and final pack on the field wore bright shining red. Their attire and bodies were so closely packed they looked like fire. The whole section of the third gate looked as though it had been engulfed in flames. Their logo, if you could call it that, was small and was under their right eye— a red upside-down triangle with its base resting on the bottom lid. This party of red was grinning, but not cheering or acting as wild as their competitors. They were smirking as if they'd already won.

These clans were only three out of the thirteen. The yellow squad was called El Guerrero or 'The Warriors' in Spanish. I suppose a name true to their heritage would be appropriate. Most, if not all, of the members of El Guerrero were Hispanic. Their light brown skin seemed to stand out, along with the bright yellow. They seemed to be extremely proud of their nationality. I wouldn't blame them, now a day everyone looked the same. Everyone has had children with everyone else until all of us were the same tan tone. We couldn't mix any farther. Except for a few who strictly had children with those of the same nationality. The El Guerrero's seemed to think of it as an advantage.

The silver was called the Bomb Squad. They more or less specialized in bomb making. They always seemed to know how to blow something up. They knew exactly what type of chemicals to mix to get the right explosive. No one even dares to step into their territory unless you were suicidal. Everywhere around their base were bombs. But the party did come in handy at the right times. I knew for a fact that the Bombs weren't here to actually race. They were here to get ideas and maybe to check out the others new accommodations. At big events like these, everyone showed up. They couldn't really expect to win.

The real game was between the Embers and the El Guerrero's. Though I'm sure the Bomb Squad didn't really mind this put down. The Embers are tough opponents and nearly always came on top. While that was most of the time, the squad had their share of loosing. I think this squad had the most people in it if I remembered correctly. Their last loss was long ago though, and I would bet money on their victory. Though I am sure the El Guerrero's weren't going down without a fight.

A bell as loud as a freight train sounded across the dome. As if the walls weren't flimsy enough. Everyone grew just a tad quieter but was still unable to contain the overwhelming excitement.

"Alright everybody," a gruff voice said over the blaring speakers placed all around the dome. "We're starting the 3rd annual Drag Races!"

There was a minute long cheer.

"Alright, on the south gate we have Squad Eight's Detno truck, the Silver Bullet!" There were some cheers but even more boo's. I stayed quiet and listened to the cracking speakers.

"On the far right we have the El Guerrero's Detno, the Beast!"

More cheers, "And last, but certainly not least, we have the Ember's truck, the Devil's Spawn!"

I chuckled at the name.

I leaned against the banisters around the stadium casually. I was so far back from the race it would have been hard to see. But human kind has just gotten smarter as the centuries past. The glass below me was like a huge monocle. It magnified everything and made it easier to see down below. Though the Detno trucks were still tiny I could see them sharper than I would have normally.

I watched as the squads shoved someone into the small seat in front. The Detno trucks weren't made for comfort, they were made for power. Each one had about 60 motors hooked up to it and foot thick tires. A human would be dwarfed inside it. Really it didn't even need much help from the driver in order to move. All it needed was someone to push the gas and steer, it did everything else. They weren't even capable of moving backwards. Not to mention they could only run for five minutes tops, no matter how many gallons of gas you pump into it.

The squads usually put in the least valued player to control the contraption. No one really expects the person to live anyway. They're fast and furious and injure nearly 40 people when running the track. The game itself only lasts for six or seven minutes. But the trucks were called Detno for a reason. Detno is kind of short for detonation or explosion in simple terms. They had a tendency to want to blow up, throw scraps of metal everywhere and shoot fire out their tail pipes. Not the safest vehicle in the world, but that's why I was here.

As the race stared the announcer spoke, "Alright my fellow detonators, let's race!"

The referees dressed in black and white waved their flags in the air.

And the trucks roared to life, not growling anymore but screaming. They yelled at the top of their lungs and rushed onto the track with bursting speed. Even behind the glass I felt the scorching heat from the trucks engines powering. They shot out like bullets and drove at neck breaking speeds, each going at least 300miles per hour.

I politely pushed past people and made my way down the levels of the dome's stands. As I walked I was barely noticed. Each person's eyes were trained solely on the Detno trucks running the race. The cars scraped paint jobs and dented each others hull. The sound of metal on metal made a grinding, twisting sound louder than the screaming. And everyone watched in fascination and awe.

As I made my way down the steps, the seconds passed and the heat got more immense. I brushed it off and passed more people. I took off my dark sunglasses and blinked my eyes to get used to the light. I took off my black hoodie next. It was huge but I was in disguise. Only when I heard cheering did I look back at the track. Somewhere along the way the Silver Bullet crashed somewhere off in the sidelines. It sizzled and sparked, growling angrily at its loss. Meanwhile the Beast and the Devil's Spawn were neck and neck. Both were fast, and for a second I wondered if the El Guerrero's would win this year. But as soon as I thought it the Devil's Spawn took lead while the Beast went spinning out of control. The thick inch tires made black scorch marks on the track only to crash into the Silver Bullet.

That was when I realized I had stopped walking. I too was captured by the essence of the huge supermobil's. I began to walk faster down the steps now. I could guess the two drivers of the Silver bullet and the Beast would be injured. If they were alive of course.

I yanked off my hat and shook out my hair, letting the strands splay over my shoulders. Before going onto the track I smoothed out my white blouse.

I was sweating as I walked out onto the track. The first thing I noticed was that the track was scorching. I made sure to wear boots with steel hammered into the soles. If I hadn't, the rubber on my shoes would have melted to the track. But already I saw the Regulation Corps spraying water on the track to cool it down.

The second thing I noticed was the joyous cheering of the crowd above me and the bouncing flames behind the third gate. They cheered and while they cheered I saw JULIÁN yelling and spitting immensely as he fumed where he stood in front of his sulking yellow crew. Some of them were disappointed; most of them were swearing and yelling in Spanish. I wondered if the Embers would have been this angry if they had lost.

The third thing I saw was the Bombs. They were neither disappointed nor mad nor happy. They focused on salvaging what they could from the rotten wreck of the Silver Bullet. The huge Detno truck, that had once been almost beautiful, was now nothing more than a hunk of metal. They worked away in uniform like soldiers. MERRIDUKE was shouting orders to them like an army general.

But I walked past them all. I jogged to come to the Silver Bullet. I would treat this driver first since he crashed from the start. If he was wounded he would have been bleeding for a little over three minutes now. Not long, but long enough.

The Silver Bullet was like a steaming mass of steel. In truth the Detno truck could decide to explode at any moment. Say one of the sparks ignited some fuel from the gas chamber… But I pushed the thought out of my head. No need to worry myself.

I gripped the handle with my right hand only to yelp in pain. The truck was even hotter than the track. I looked down at my waist. My belt hug around my hips, it held all the things I need for any type of medical emergency but no gloves, if you don't count the flimsy surgical gloves of course.

"Captain ADELE," a voice said, bringing me back from my problem. Three boys from the Bomb Squad stood a few feet behind. They acted as if I was going to bite. I looked at them closer; they were wearing grey all over. They were young and I've never seen them before. MERRIDUKE must have just recruited them and wanted them to meet me.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Captain MERRIDUKE wants us to help you," another one spoke up, mouthier than the first. "You seemed to have some trouble with the door."

"Yes of course, do the honors boys," I said.

I watched as they took hold of the door. I frowned when I saw they used their bare hands on the hot metal. They yanked the Silver Bullet's door off its hinges. It fell with a thunk. Inside was a small boy. He was slouched in the seat, his head on the steering wheel.

"Hey, help me get him out will you?" I said looking at them expectantly.

They nodded, "Yes ma'am."

I rolled my eyes, "Oh please." I groaned. They looked at me almost worried as they set the small boy on the ground. I continued, "There's no need to be so formal. Call me ADELE. And cut out the ma'am crap I'm not an old lady!"

They all grinned sheepishly and nodded, "Forgive us."

"A simple sorry would be nice," I muttered. I knelt down next to the boy from the Detno. He was small with locks of curly brown hair. He looked young and weak. No wonder MERRIDUKE sent him out. He only looked to be about nine or ten.

"Do you need anymore help m— ADELE?" the mouthy one asked. I smiled a little when I heard his correction.

"No," I said. "You may go. And you too." I said to the two boys. They nodded and left. The third boy who has yet to speak started to leave too. "Hey! I didn't say you."

He turned towards me confused. The two others glanced over their backs with envious expressions. Even though those two spoke to me, it was the quiet one who interested me the most.

"Yes you. Come here will you?" I asked.

He paled into a shade lighter and jogged up to me, "Yes Captain ADELE?"

"Ah, you speak!" I laughed and his pale turned to pink.

I turned away from him to treat the kid driver. I continued talking while I worked, "Do you have a name?" I asked. I peeked inside my patient's eyes and mouth, mentally checking thinks off in my head.

"Y-yes." He stammered.

"Well don't hold back," I said. I probed the back of my patient's jaw. And then ran my eyes over his body, seeing if he had any broken bones or injuries.

"It's Ross," he said tentatively.

"Mm, nice name," I muttered. I found a couple concussions to his head which is what probably caused his unconsciousness. I rubbed some salve onto his wounds and sealed it with a nice bandage. He was a lucky one.

"Ross can you do one more thing for me?" I didn't wait for him to answer, "Come with me to get the other boy out of the Beast. This one was lucky. I just hope the next one is too."

He nodded and walked the short distance around the Bullet to get to the Beast. The golden Detno was glued to the Bullet by the crash. While Ross worked on the door I tried to peek inside of the truck to see if I could see the driver. Unfortunately the Detno's weren't made for looking into because it had no windows. Only the windshield in the front was transparent.

But the door was soon open. Ross seemed to freeze where he was at. I sighed; the reaction wasn't one I was hoping for. I looked in too and knew why he gasped. This driver wasn't as lucky. Ross recovered enough to haul this boy out as well, bloodied and broken a he was.

As soon as his body touched the ground I was working on him. His heart beat was slow and irregular. His face was a smear of red against his yellow shirt. His leg was bent at an odd angle.

"Thank you Ross, you can go now," I said. He nodded numbly. "I'll put in a good word for you to MERRIDUKE."

He left and I put my attention on the eighth party member. I think I remembered seeing him before. One of JULIÁN'S old scouts if I remember correctly. What I didn't understand was that I remembered him being one of JULIÁN'S favorites. I don't understand why he would send him out to drive knowing he could die.

Pushing all other thought's aside I cleaned off his face with cloth sanitizer to find the wound. It was a gash, on his forehead. Not too bad, but not good. I sewed it up and moved on. Next I looked at his leg. It was badly swollen already and the bone seemed to be snapped. I felt around a bit and heard a soft groan.

"Hm? Hey you aren't awake are you?" I asked the boy. He stirred a bit and blinked open his eyes.

"Caaptaiin ADELLLE?" He muttered.

"Oh, you are awake. How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," he groaned.

I laughed, "Don't worry you won't for long I promise." I slid a needle from my belt and wiped his shoulder until it was sterile. And then I slipped the needle in his arm. In seconds his eyes were drooping and he was unconscious. Now for his leg.

I felt along the bone and found he had a pretty clean break. I could feel the uneven slice between my fingers. Now for the hard part. I placed my hands where I would have the most power and jerked hard until I felt the bone snap back into place. He whimpered but otherwise didn't show any signs of pain. I finished up by spraying a liquid plasti-cast on his leg. It covered his leg in a thin white sheet and then rose and hardened within seconds and made a good thin cast.

Sighing I rose and wiped the sweat off my brow. The rest of my team should be finishing up with anyone who got the wrong end of the Detno's tailpipe. But I told them to just cover the stands. I didn't want my crew to be near the track if the trucks decided to explode. So I guess it was up to me to check out the three crews.

I went to JULIÁN'S team first. They seemed pretty upset about their loss. I don't understand why they put their hopes up all the time. They always seem to come second to the Embers. I guess theirs no shame it trying though. It's too bad the Embers aren't worried about them. They're worried about the Sapphires. Though the Sapphires don't like competitions they're the few squads with a real chance of winning against the Embers.

Anyway when I approached the eighth squad, JULIÁN was still fuming. His golden brown face was beet red with anger. I sighed. I was going to have to get him to calm down. I doubt anyone before me had attempted to talk to him since after the game. Not that I blamed them.

"JULIÁN," I said, coming up to him with a smile. From the corner of my eye I could see his squad. They were still mad about loosing but they respected me enough to quiet down. Their anger was reduced to a heated murmur.

JULIÁN was a broad shouldered and muscular guy. He had coal black eyes that could kill and inky black hair. Not to mention a rather short fuse. I was fortunate enough to be on his good side. When he was calm, he was mild and kind. He was smart, but didn't like to keep quiet when he wanted to express something.

He glowered at me with his hard black eyes. His lips were pressed in a thin line across his face. He said nothing.

I didn't take the cold air radiating from him too seriously, "Come on now JULI, be a good sport." I smiled up at him.

His pursed lips opened to growl three words, "We lost ADELE." He winced afterward as if the sentence hurt to say. His coal eyes were scrutinizing. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest. I could see the veins and muscle bulge in his arms. He was trying not to yell and I appreciated the gesture of trying to be civil.

"You didn't lose JULI you came in second place." I reasoned, "Don't let TAMALE and his squad bother you. You played as well as you could and that's all what matters."

"That's the problem, we raced as well as we could but we still couldn't win. Second place is another word for losing," He hissed.

"Ah, but it isn't if three people are racing JULI. Therefore you did not loose," I said.

He scoffed and snapped, "Don't call me JULI, ADELE."

I laughed and kissed him lightly on his right cheek, "Don't mull over it too long JULI you'll give yourself gray hair."

I could see he wanted to snap at me for calling him JULI again but he didn't. He grinned at me instead. JULIÁN had a temper but never for too long when I had something to do with it. He calmed down at once and chuckled softly, "What do you need DELI?" he spoke with a light accent.

I rolled my eyes at my apparent nick name, "I fixed up your scout."

He immediately frowned, "Oh." The low murmur of whispers got louder. I didn't really know Spanish too well so I couldn't translate.

"¡calla!" JULIÁN snapped at them and they quieted.

"Look JULIÁN, I know it's none of my business but I thought you favorited that scout. Why'd you send him out on the track?" I asked.

He looked at me and said coldly, "You're right it is none of your business."

I sighed, "Alright, well, he's out there next to your truck. Did anyone else on your squad get hurt?" If he wasn't going to answer he probably never was.

He shook his head, "No."

He was trying to get me to leave. I sighed again and nodded to him. While turning to leave I saw him scowl. I wonder what that was all about. I knew better than to snoop around so I forgot about it. No use getting myself involved.