“Brakes!” I shouted as we lurched to a stop. We heaved one more time, almost running into the car in front of us. The rain continued to pound. I was crouched next to the driver’s seat, my hand pressed against the dash for stabilization.

Bucket Boy continued to whine. “Wait, I have to keep my foot on this brake the whole time?” He had the chair almost fully reclined, allowing him to use the pedals without bonking his snout.

“If it’s in drive, then yes,” I said. “But you’re going to put it in park. No, not reverse. Park. Yes. Now you can take your foot off the pedal. We’re going to keep it in park for now. Don’t touch anything until I tell you to.”

We were stopped next to the bugbears’ van. To our left was a steep ditch. As long as Bucket Boy could keep the steering wheel straight, we’d be okay.

The bugbears’ van blared music. It was an Elton John song, and it was loud enough to hear over the rain, but I wasn’t familiar with it. Something about making friends. Jasha sat behind the wheel, cigarette hanging from his mouth. He gave us a wave.

The eight vehicles were positioned side by side in four rows.

The rain just kept coming and coming. We didn’t have working wipers, not that would matter after I shattered the windshield. For now the rain didn’t hit us as all eight vehicles and mounts were under a giant awning. Still, the sound of the rain was almost deafening. There wasn’t any hail yet.

Right in front of the bugbears sat the pile of vines that was Dwight the unicorn and Lucienne the whatever the hell she was. Team Sparkles. The little French rodent was no longer on the head of the unicorn, but submerged in the vines, her helmeted head sticking out the top. I still had no idea how they “drove” the thing.

Dwight, meanwhile, was engaged in a shouting match with the group to their immediate left, which was the team right in front of us.

Girth the Trouble.

Their vehicle was a bright yellow 1950s Chevy Bel Air with a massive blower popping up from the hood. Red flames were painted on the side of the car. It was like a real-life Matchbox car. We’d seen plenty of similar cars during our time in Cuba, but nothing this tricked-out. Leaning out the passenger’s side, screaming their head off at the unicorn, was some sort of slime creature. It was human-shaped, sort of, and it appeared to be made of translucent gelatin. Like someone had taken an Operatic slime, but clear-colored, and smashed it into a gingerbread man cookie cutter. It wasn’t wearing clothes. It leaned all the way out the passenger’s side of the car, screeching at the unicorn. I assumed there was at least one more behind the wheel. It was something called a “guck elemental,” and his name was Masterplan.

Masterplan’s voice was deep and loud. I had no idea what had started their fight.

“You can go fuck yourself right now,” Masterplan shouted at the unicorn. “Team Sparkles? More like ‘team suck my gelatinous dick.’ You’re lucky we’re not on the same track this race. I’m going to rip that girlie horn off your stupid horse head and stab it right into your heart!”

“I’m a unicorn, not a horse, lube boy! And I’d love to see you try, you fucking idiot!” Dwight shouted back, his voice cracking. “I’m going to wear your spleen like a hat! Then we’ll see who’s girlie.”

“Carl, keeping these people alive is going to be impossible,” Donut muttered.

“I know,” I said. We could only kill one team. If a second died, then all this would be for nothing. But we couldn’t risk coming in last place, either.

Lucienne popped up and also shouted something while shaking her little rodent fist, but I couldn’t hear her over the rain.

“Think you can make it?” I asked Donut. She would have to shoot over these idiots in front of us.

The womantaur team was in a convertible sitting right in front of the guck elementals. The two women sat there, ignoring the argument behind them. I couldn’t see the half-mantaur.

Donut’s target was Rapture, the driver.

Her weapon mount, the Scorpion’s Bite, formed on Donut’s back, along with Katia’s crossbow. The glowing Danforth bolt locked into place on its own with an ominous click. The bolt glowed. Hopefully we’d be able to retrieve it, as we only had ten of them.

We’d debated putting Donut on the roof of the truck for this. But in the end, we decided against it. I didn’t want her sitting out there as a prime target for others.

The moment the light turned green, I’d break the window and Donut would hit the womantaur driver with her Danforth bolt, which would root her in place. If they tried to drive off, or if they’d already started moving, it would go badly for Rapture. As soon as the driver was hit, Chiyome’s mount, which was a giant bear, would smash the car to the side. The driver would remain in place, and the car moving underneath her would hopefully end up cutting her in half. Either Chiyome or one of the bugbears would take out the driver if she was still alive, and we would, if we could, take out the second womantaur and Corcunda as we passed. I had a Molotov cocktail ready to go.

After that, we would try to all stay alive for the rest of the race.

We didn’t know what upgrade the Lady Dominators had picked, but if it was a shield, it likely didn’t stop both magical attacks, which was what Donut’s bolt would be, and physical attacks, which was what the bear attack would be, so we were covering all of our bases.

I spent a moment trying to examine the vehicle in front of the womantaurs, the vehicle currently in the first spot. Team One Fine Pig. It was a big military vehicle similar to what I imagined Imani and Elle had. To the right of them in position number two stood the large black dog of the Jugglers. The creepy masked riders sat in a row on its back. The razor foxes’ bear was about the same size and was currently sniffing at the butt of the dog.

Donut glared at the giant dog, muttering.

“Donut,” I said, “do you have a shot on the womantaur?”

She gave one last derisive snort and turned her attention to the Lady Dominators.

The unicorn and the guck elemental continued to squeal at each other.

“You wanna go! You wanna go right now?” Dwight shrieked. “Imma fuck you up!”

“Imma have a go with your donkey of a mother,” Masterplan shouted back. “I’m gonna ride her like I just got my stimulus check.”

“I have a shot, no problem,” Donut said. “Right over the slime guy’s car and right into the back of that one’s head. But you’ll have to crouch further down because that stupid tommy gun is in the way.”

The GPS beeped.

Green light in thirty seconds. Environmental hazards starting.

New note has just been added to the hazards database. The hail is light at the beginning, but it increases in intensity as the timer increases.

I pulled the special banger sphere out. If it worked as intended, it would destroy the entire windshield in one hit, not just poke a hole in it.

Crash! The entire ground shook. It was like a bomb had just gone off. Next to me, Bucket Boy let out a shriek and hit the horn.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

Crash! A second detonation came, this time right behind us. The back of the truck bucked as if we’d been rear-ended.

“Carl, what’s happening?” Donut shouted.

Dr. Metcalf beeped.

I’m pretty sure that’s the hail.

“That’s light hail?” Donut shrieked. “What’s considered heavy?”

Boom! The entire awning over our heads exploded. Bits of ice and snow and metal crackled across the roof of the truck. The rain started pounding the windshield. In a second, I couldn’t see anything through the ice and water. I couldn’t even see the lights above us indicating when it was time to go.

Race starts in ten seconds. We are so fucking dead.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” Bucket Boy said.

“Stick to the plan!” I shouted, pulling my arm back.

Green light! Green light!

I hurled the banger sphere through the windshield, which shattered into pieces. The sphere continued its forward trajectory as our vision was suddenly kind of clear. In the distance, a hailstone the size of a two-story house smashed into the ground between the two roads.

At the same moment, Donut tensed, about to fire, but she paused.

She paused because a long tanklike tube had just popped out the side of the team Sparkles bush, and it was pointed directly at the muscle car right in front of us.

“Get down!” I shouted.

I didn’t duck in time. Flames burst from the turret as they fired directly into the Chevy Bel Air. Instead of spinning away, the car, miraculously, went straight up as if it were a rocket.

“Gah,” I shouted.

Donut sputtered, her face covered with gelatin. Pieces of Mastermind the elemental had exploded all over her.

Kablam! The burning Chevy Bel Air landed loudly to the left of us, smashing into the ditch, burning furiously.

“That’s right!” Dwight shrieked. The tank cannon was peeled back like in a cartoon. It must’ve been a onetime-use weapon. Or, more likely, a once-a-race weapon. “How’s that for girlie? Gargle my unicorn balls, you translucent bitch!”

And then the bush just took off, moving significantly faster than it had the last time.

The only ones left on the track were us and the bugbears.

Team six, Girth the Trouble has been eliminated due to the destruction of their vehicle. Seven teams remain in the current heat.

Next to us, the song “Black and White” by Three Dog Night blared from the bugbear van. I recognized it because my mom had loved that song, and there was a strange, surreal moment where I just sat there listening, remembering my mom holding me and dancing while she sang to me. The reverie was broken by yet another massive hailstone crashing against a distant hill. Jasha gave me an apologetic shrug, and the bugbears zoomed off, leaving us sitting alone at the start line.