Adapted by Gene Hult (As J. E. Bright)

NASCAR Racers #5 All or Nothing Adapted by Gene Hult (as J. E. Bright) Sample Chapters

VRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!

Big River Raceway's massive structure vibrated with the incredible power of the

NASCAR Unlimited Series cars barreling down the track.

Steve "Flyer" Sharp whizzed his car along a steep banked turn, leading the other three Fastex vehicles. Flyer blasted down a long straightaway, whooshing past the pits.

The four famous Team Fastex members were training hard, racing to beat the unbelievable time records that had been set by a new, mysterious, and creepy Rexcor driver named Kent Steele. Steele had won the last race, but Team Fastex was determined to beat him in the upcoming championship.

Behind the pit wall, the Team Fastex crew chief, Douglas "Duck" Dunaka, checked his stopwatch as Flyer buzzed by. The crew chief had gotten his nickname because he could fix almost anything with only a roll of duct tape—which he called duck tape. "Go Flyer!" Duck cheered into his radio. "You're closing in on Steele's best lap time!"

Inside his car, Flyer nodded grimly. "Let's see if I can shave a half-second off," he replied. Mark "Charger" McCutchen had been catching up to Flyer, but Flyer slammed the pedal to the metal. He surged ahead, eating up the track.

But Flyer was pushing his car too hard. The metal frame started to shimmy around him. His tachometer needle wiggled into the dangerous red zone, and—

Ka-thunk!

A small explosion echoed from under Flyer's hood.

"I've blown the engine!" Flyer cried.

Smoke poured from Flyer's car. He fought with the steering wheel as he skidded across the track, the tires streaking the ground with melted rubber.

The other Team Fastex drivers—Charger, Megan "Spitfire" Fassler, and Carlos

"Stunts" Rey—all swerved around Flyer's out-of control car as they blasted past him.

Charger whipped into the lead as he rounded a sharp turn, heading for the finish line. He was going so fast that his car slipped up toward the wall above the banked track.

The car's tires could barely maintain traction at that insane rate of speed.

"It feels a little loose, Duck," Charger reported to the crew chief over his radio.

A second after Charger spoke, the rear tires of his car slipped on the track.

Slammmm!

The rear bumper bashed into the high wall, and Charger spun out on the asphalt.

Megan swerved to avoid Charger, but she had no space to maneuver.

Bannnggg!

She clipped Charger's bumper with her own. The sharp impact sent her car into a screeching skid toward the infield. Megan plowed across the infield's grass, her tires spewing up dirt. Behind her, Charger spun to a stop on the track as Stunts sizzled past him.

Megan heaved a big sigh as her car halted on the grass. She clutched the steering wheel tightly for a moment, then let her hands fall limply into her lap. "We can't do it," she whispered to herself. "Steele's too fast."

Jack Fassler, the wealthy, powerful owner of Team Fastex, stood by the finish line. He glanced at a stopwatch as Stunts swept across the finish line, shaking his head in disappointment.

Stunts had beaten his own personal record.

But it wasn't fast enough.

Kent Steele had been faster.

After practice that night, the members of Team Fastex gathered in their garage for a meeting. While Duck and Charger's little brother Miles replaced the crumpled bumper of Charger's car, the drivers sat on stacks of tires, listening to Jack Fassler. All of the drivers looked bummed out.

"It's not always the fastest car that wins," Jack said, trying to pull them out of their funk. "Steele's only human—he can make a mistake."

Megan raised her head and met Jack's eyes. "He didn't make any mistakes last time, Dad," she reminded her father. "Steele drove a perfect race."

Jack narrowed his eyes at his daughter as she stood up. "And if he does it again," Megan continued, "we don't just lose the team championship. You lose everything: Fastex, the Motorsphere—"

"Paying what I owe Rexcor is my problem, Megan," Jack broke in. He stared at

Stunts, Charger, Flyer, and Megan until they all met his gaze. "You just focus on driving your best race," he told his team.

With that, Jack turned away from the drivers and walked over to Duck, checking on the repairs. The drivers remained quiet for a long moment, until Stunts broke the silence.

"There has to be some way to beat this guy Steele," Stunts said.

Charger glanced over at a tarp in the far corner of the garage. "There might be one way," he said slowly.

Flyer and Stunts gave Charger curious looks as Charger stood up and wandered over to the corner.

With a skeptical expression on her face, Megan watched Charger carefully as he reached the dark corner. Then her eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and worry as she realized what he was doing.

Charger stopped beside a long, sleek shape hidden underneath a tarp cover. With a short jerk, Charger whipped off the tarp.

Jack, Duck, and Miles heard that sound and turned to find its source.

Underneath the cover was a gleaming, radical, experimental car unlike any other in the garage—and unlike any in the world.

The XPT-1. Megan Fassler's greatest creation. The next step in the evolution of racing car design. The ultimate driving machine.

And Team Fastex's only hope.

The members of Team Fastex stared at the XPT-1 in awe, admiring its graceful lines, powerful chassis, and aerodynamic angles.

"It's the fastest car we've got," Charger said.

Stunts grinned. "It's the fastest car anybody's got," he added.

With a little cough to get everybody's attention, Megan stepped in front of the

XPT-1, blocking it from Charger's view. "But it doesn't have a rescue racer," she reminded the other drivers. "There's no way to escape from a crash."

Jack walked over to stand beside Megan. "And Charger crashed the other XPT prototype when he drove it through the simulator," he said. "Forget it."

Stunts took a step toward Jack. "I can make cars do things that cars can't do," he bragged to his boss. "I can handle the XPT-1."

"Nobody can handle this level of acceleration—" Jack replied.

"It's not faster than a jet fighter," Flyer broke in. Jack glanced over at Flyer, so

Flyer kept talking. "I've been trained to keep functioning under the kind of G-forces this car can generate," he explained.

Then Megan spoke up. "I helped design the XPT-1," she said. "If anybody can drive it—"

"Nobody's going to drive it," Jack interrupted. He glared at the drivers as Duck moved over to stand beside him. "Until we get the bugs worked out, it's just too dangerous," Jack said. Duck put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "It's the best chance we've got, Jack," Duck argued. "Maybe the only chance."

Jack took a deep breath, and stared down at his shoes for a long moment. Finally, he raised his head slowly, and nodded. "I see your point," Jack admitted. "Desperate times call for desperate risks. Everybody, follow me."

He led the team into his spacious, hi-tech office in the tower high above the garage. Then Jack sat down in front of his huge computer screen and pulled up pictures of the Team Fastex drivers. Shots of Megan, Charger, Flyer, and Stunts began flashing rapidly on the screen like whirling images on a slot machine.

"You're all equally qualified to drive the XPT-1," Jack announced, "so the only fair way to choose is to let the computer pick a driver at random."

The pictures on the screen switched from one driver to the next so quickly that they became nothing but a blur. The drivers watched the blur closely, all of them hoping that they would be the one chosen.

Finally, one picture flashed on the screen and stayed there.

Mark McCutchen. Charger.

Megan, Flyer, and Stunts shook their heads ruefully, while Charger broke out into a wide smile.

"It looks like you get a second chance, Charger," Jack said.

Charger replaced his smile with a look of pure determination.

"When do I start training?" he asked.

# The next morning, Charger drove the XPT-1 along the swooping track of Big

River Raceway, blazing down a long straightaway. The XPT-1 zoomed so fast that it made the old Unlimited Series cars seem like go-carts.

Megan carefully watched Charger's progress on a monitor screen. She smiled, and contacted Charger over her radio. "You're two seconds under your last lap time,

Mark," she reported.

Inside the XPT-1, Charger gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The car started to shake from its astonishing speed, but Charger hung on, managing to control it—barely.

"You don't have to push it so hard," Megan warned over the radio.

Charger gritted his teeth as the car's vibrations threatened to overwhelm him. "I'm just . . . enjoying . . . the ride," he replied.

He swooped the XPT-1 along a sideways stretch of track, then bolted down another straightaway that led directly for the immense Motorsphere up ahead.

Looming above Charger, the Motorsphere looked as though someone had parked a metallic, hollow moon on one side of Big River Raceway. The vast dome gleamed in the morning sunlight, its shiny surface only hinting at the dangerous, challenging track hidden inside.

The XPT-1 gushed inside the Motorsphere, and raced up the curved side of the dome, defying gravity. Halfway up the side, the car began to shake even more violently, tilting as Charger scrambled up the sphere. Charger's view shuddered so brutally that he could barely see where he was going. "Getting hard . . . to handle!" he blurted out over the radio. "I'm losing it!"

Megan's eyes grew wide as she watched the XPT-1 fishtailing on her monitor.

"Mark!" she screamed.

Charger skidded across the top of the Motorsphere, leaving black tire marks on the high ceiling.

There was nowhere to go but down.