Sandstorm at Nitro Beach!

It was a hot, hot Wednesday, the hottest day of the summer so far, and Nitro could not keep still.

He zoomed around the Garage once, twice, three times, and blue sparks flew off his tires on every corner. The turbo on his roof whistled like a kettle.

“Look at the Command Screen!” he said. “LOOK at it!”

The giant screen on the Garage wall showed a bright yellow sun, and under the sun were four little words: Sunny. Hot. Light wind.

“That,” said Nitro, “is a BEACH DAY.”

“That is a forecast,” said Torque, without looking up from her workbench. “A forecast is a good guess about the weather.”

“Then here’s my good guess,” said Nitro. “Beach! The flats at Nitro Beach are the best place in the whole world to go fast. I’m going to do the fastest run in beach history, and I’m going to use my boost. Ten whole seconds of blue flames! Speed is the answer. What was the question?”

Mudslide rolled out of his bay as slowly as a sleepy Sunday, and a little dust puffed off his tires.

“Sand, huh?” he said. “Sand’s cool. It’s basically dry mud. I’m in.”

“DUNE BOUNCING!” Bounce sprang out of his bay so fast that his springs twanged. “I’m going to bounce off every single dune on the whole beach, one after the other.”

Big Stomp rolled across the Garage and parked right in front of the doors. When he parked in front of something, nobody got around him. He was the biggest truck on the crew, red all over, with orange flames down his sides.

“Easy, crew,” he said. “This is a relaxing day. NOT a mission. NOT a contest. You go, you have fun, and you come home. Deal?”

“Deal,” said Nitro. “I’ll relax SO fast.”

“Totally,” said Bounce, bouncing.

“Dude,” said Mudslide. “I’m always relaxed.”

That part was true.

Clink. Clink. Clink. Over in her bay, Smash had her back panels open. Her wrecking-ball chain was clinking through a tray of oil and back in again, until every link shone. Four days ago she had become the Rumble Bowl’s demolition champion, and she was still very pleased about it.

“Coming, Smash?” asked Bounce.

“Beach sand gets in my chain,” said Smash. “Pass.”

“I have three projects on the go,” said Torque, “and Big Stomp is staying to help me. Radio if you need us.”

“We won’t need you,” said Nitro. “It’s a beach day. Can we go now? I’ve been parked for FORTY-FIVE SECONDS.”

Torque reached out her crane arm and flicked a switch. With a deep hum, the Launch Ramp slid up out of the floor and tilted toward the big doors.

“Standard setting,” said Torque. “Nice and gentle, for a beach day.”

Nitro was on the ramp before she had finished. Big Stomp chuckled and rolled out of the way.

WHOOSH!

The Launch Ramp flung Nitro out into the sunshine, a streak of blue. Next came Mudslide, chug-chug-chug, as steady as a drum.

Last of all came Bounce. At the very top of the ramp, he tucked up his tires and did a backflip. He didn’t need to. He did it just because.

“Show-off,” said Smash. But she was grinning.

The three trucks raced away south toward the sea, under a blue sky and a hot, happy sun. It was the kind of day when nothing could possibly go wrong.