Graveyard Shift
Knight Rider characters copyright Glen A. Larson
Plymouth Christine, Arnold "Arnie" Cunningham, Leigh, Roland D. LeBay,
Darnell, Sander Galton and Dennis are copyrighted by Stephen King
I only borrowed then, I didn't steal, please don't sue me.
No copyright infringement intended.
Any references to actual places or people are unintended and accidental.
This is a work of pure fiction.
This story classifies as HORROR. Parental guidance highly recommended.
Be forewarned, you might want to read Stephen King's "Christine".
Otherwise, this story will be hard to follow.
"Ah, Michael come in." Devon was cheerful, almost too cheerful decided Michael Knight as he walked into the lavishly furnished office. Michael frowned; Devon was never this cheerful, when Michael was headed for a vacation. "Oh no, Devon! No way! I know that look. I'm not working this Halloween. I already packed." Devon held up a hand, "Calm down, Michael. You will still get to leave tomorrow evening as planned. Anyway technically you are still on duty today. Or should I say tonight." Sighing Michael gave in and sat down. Devon walked over to a filing cabinet and took out a folder. "Daniel J. Jackson." Devon said as he handed the folder to Michael. "He has an arrest record a mile long. He imports drugs from Mexico, or so it is believed. He is an ex-cop gone bad and he knows just how the police think. They know he's doing something, there's just no evidence to prove it." Michael looked at the photos of the man. And then he looked again. Michael could scarcely believe that he was looking at the same man. The first photo was of Daniel Jackson as a young graduate out of the police academy. He was clean-shaven and was smiling at the camera. The second photo could have been of another man. This man looked to be in his early thirties. He was un- shaved, with a mop of greasy black hair that seemed to reach down to who- knows-how-far. He didn't seem to have any eyebrows or eyelashes. Michael held the photo a little further and tilted it. Either the photo was badly over-exposed or the man had completely white skin! Small, beady bloodshot eyes peered out from under heavy eyelids. "Whoooo! What's this guy on?!?" Devon looked disgusted, "On just about everything. He deals everything from crack to cocaine all the way to LSD. And unlike most dealers he seems to enjoy his own merchandise. An informant of ours told us about a large shipment that is going to change hands tonight. He's an ex-user who wants out. The police seem to think he's a trustworthy informant. Michael leaned back, "Speaking about the police, isn't this a matter they should handle? Why bring the Foundation into this?" Devon took the folder from Michael, "Usually yes, but the problem here is that Mr. Jackson is an ex-cop and there's word going around that he can SMELL a cop. That's why we're involved." Michael resigned to his fate. "So where's this deal going down and when?" Devon consulted the folder again before replying, "11 pm sharp at Ben & Bill's Used Auto-parts roughly 20 miles south of here. Basically it is a car junkyard where you might find a part or two for your car for a bargain." Michael got up. "So it's basically: catch this vampire-look-a- like and send him back to spend time with the cops, this time behind bars."
"Alright Kitt, download when you're ready." Bonnie watched as the AI connected with her computer and downloaded the files for Michael's last case before his vacation. It took Kitt about two seconds to figure out where tonight's stakeout was going to be, "Ben & Bill's Used Auto-parts! No! We've gone past it several times with Michael. The sight is quite depressing. Bonnie, all those poor cars." Bonnie closed Kitt's hood as Michael walked in, "Hi Bon, bye Bon. I'll have Kitt back before you know it." With that Kitt's turbine engine ignitiated and the two partners left Foundation grounds and headed south. Dust was setting as Kitt and Michael pulled up to a rusted-up old gate. A crocked sign stated: "Ben & Bill's Used Auto Parts always at a bargain price" The yard was closed for the night. "Alright, Kitt, go into surveillance mode and scan inside." Kitt's scanner flashed, "The is no-one inside. Shall I unlock the gate for us?" Michael smiled as the gate's lock snapped open and the gate swung open. "Thanks partner." Kitt stopped dead as they drove inside. "Michael." the AI almost whispered. The where hundreds of cars as far as the eye could see. It really was a depressing sight. Cars of all makes and models were piled up upon one another. All bore signs of age and rust. Some had parts missing when others were little more then skeletons of their former proud states. It was a graveyard for cars. "You okay, buddy?" Kitt rarely over-road manual drive but now he had stopped. "This is equivalent of looking at corpses, Michael. I don't have a good feeling about this place. The engine started again and Kitt switched to Auto-cruise. They moved slowly passed the heaps of dead cars. Kitt found a suitable hiding place within sight of where the exchange was to take place. Kitt backed up between a beat-up old Ford and a red-and-white Plymouth Fury. The time was eight p.m. They had wanted to be early so there would be no one there. Now they had three hours to wait. Michael declined the seat and settled down, "Wake me up if anything happens, Kitt. I'm taking a nap." Kitt darkened the windows to allow Michael to sleep. And he continued to scan. An hour later there had been no movement. Kitt turned his attention to the two cars in-between, which he was parked. The Ford Thunderbird on his left was in a sorry state. Cannibalised of almost everything, the car sat on the ground rusting away. Kitt turned his attention to the Plymouth on his right. This car was in much better shape. Kitt's scanners ran over the Fury's powerful frame, over the rear-wings and nearly evil-looking front grill. Kitt was surprised that the Fury was whole. No one had taken any spare parts. Kitt found that odd, as there was sure to be plenty of people who were restoring old Plymouths. Kitt began a more detailed scan. Underneath all the dust and rubble Kitt found an almost perfect red-and- white paint job. There seemed to be almost no dents or scratches on it. Remarkably the Plymouth had had no cars piled up on top of it. Even the tires seemed half full. Kitt turned his attention inside the Fury. There was less dust inside. The seats seemed well worn, but there were no obvious rips in the upholstery. As Kitt's sensors ran over and over the inside of the Plymouth Kitt became more and more intrigued. He actually had to remind himself to keep scanning his surroundings as well should their awaited smugglers arrive. The real surprise came with the motor. Kitt had expected to se signs of age and tons of mileage, but what he found was an engine -though outdated- in extremely good condition. In fact there was even oil in it! And the mileage. Then, just for the briefest of moments, Kitt's sensors caught a surge of power from the Fury's engine. Kitt almost jumped, "Michael!" Michael woke up in a flash, almost hitting his head on one of the overhead consuls, "What is it Kitt? Are they here?" Michael was surprised to see that Kitt had powered up, though he had not ignitiated the engine. Kitt rarely woke Michael up with a startled cry like this one, yet Michael could see nothing out of the ordinary in the junkyard. "No, there's no one here, at least I don't think so. Michael, my scanner detected power coming from the car on my right." Michael squinted into the darkness and his eyes rested on the Plymouth. Giving Kitt's voice modulator an odd look, Michael opened the door and got out. He circled Kitt and scrutinized the Plymouth. He reached his hand towards the car's door. "DON'T TOUCH IT!" Kitt's scream pierced the darkness like a knife and made Michael snap his hand back. Kitt almost never used extra volume. Michael cast another look at his partner and then stepped closer to the Fury. His eyes ran over the back wings and the white roof. Leaning forward he peered inside the car. "There's nothing like the smell of a new car." Michael took a step back. What had made him think about that? Certainly this car didn't resemble a new car any more then any other in this lot. Yet he had almost heard that sentence, almost as if someone had spoken. Michael walked to the front of the Fury. He cast a look at his partner's scanner and then returned to stare at the Plymouth. "Michael, there's something about that car." Kitt sounded hesitant. Michael gave Kitt a wry smile, "You sure you aren't getting spooked, Kitt. Like you said, we are in a graveyard of sorts and it's getting close to midnight - when all the ghosts come out." Kitt seemed hurt, "Of course not, Michael! You should know me better then that. Just be careful around that car." Michael nodded and continued to circle the Fury. "There's nothing." Michael stopped, there it was again! "Michael? What is it? Your heart rate just shot up." Michael gazed inside the car, "Did you hear that, Kitt?" Kitt started his motor; suddenly he didn't care about hiding and catching the drug exchange. All he cared about was getting away from the other car. No other car had had that effect on him since, well - Karr. Careful not to move too suddenly, Kitt moved to a good distance from the Fury. He had not heard anything but Michael clearly had. Then even though Kitt had warned him, Michael reached out and touched the Plymouth's dust-covered body. "Let's go for a ride, big guy." Michael stood transfixed staring at the worn seats and the faded paintjob. Keeping his hand on the roof Michael began to circle the car again. "Michael? Michael! Get away from there!" Kitt's scanner moved fast as he attempted to get through to his partner. Michael however seemed to have gone into some kind of trance. He walked to the driver's side door of the Plymouth -and opened it. "Michael NO!" Kitt searched his databanks trying to find a way to get through to Michael. Before Kitt could do anything else Michael sat down on the worn seat. He reached out slowly, almost as if in a slow-motion film. He caressed the dash, and then halted his hands before laying his hands on the wheel. The moment Michael's hands touched the wheel -everything changed. Kitt's olfactory scan signalled at the same time as his visual scanners were overloaded with images that he couldn't explain. Kitt was a computer used to processing logical data, data that could be understood, but now all he could do was watch. When Michael had gotten inside the Plymouth, his comlink had gone silent. Though Kitt could still see his partner, but to Kitt's other "senses" Michael had suddenly disappeared. The exterior of the Plymouth began to change. Though there was no wind, the layers of dust flew off of the car in a tornado-like swirl. Some of the few dents in the car's frame straitened themselves as if by magic. One of the Fury's front lights came on, died out then flashed once and cast it's light over Kitt, almost as if the other car was contemplating Kitt, watching him with one eye. Michael had not closed the door. Kitt's olfactory scan signalled again and Kitt identified the smell that was coming from the Fury. It was the smell of something rotting. Human flesh, Kitt identified with shock. Kitt revved his engine, unsure as of what to do next. He had to get Michael out of there, but as he was a car he couldn't very well go and drag him out! Kitt's pleas to his partner fell on death ears as Michael Knight continued to sit in the Fury. Kitt watched as Michael began to speak or rather to mouth words. Even though no sound came out Kitt was able to lip-read, "Christine.let's go for a drive.Christine." As the other headlight came on the smell of rotting flesh became so overwhelming it threatened to overload Kitt's olfactory scanner, nothing had ever come close to doing that. Then to Kitt's ultimate surprise, the Plymouth's V-8 engine roared to life. It didn't even choke but revved and Kitt heard the sound of gears being shifted through. It-SHE, Kitt corrected himself- was alive and had a name. He had been scanning Michael and his driver wasn't doing anything except sitting in the driver's chair. The gears shifted to neutral and the engine settled to a low hum. Michael's eyes had remained downcast and he was mouthing the same words over and over again, "Christine.let's go for a drive.Christine.let's cruise."Now ever so slowly Michael lifted his head and his eyes fastened onto the black car that he had known for so many years. But they were not the eyes of Michael Knight. Kitt zoomed in on Michael's face and literally backed up in horror. The eyes that stared out from the face of his once-familiar partner were the eyes of a dead man. Time seemed to have stopped as a transformation began to take place. The smooth skin of Michael's face was replaced by wrinkles. His body stooped down, powerful muscles degenerated and as the minutes passed by Michael transformed into an old man, or rather into a dead man. As Kitt continued to watch, Michael's face shifted into a grimace and then into a horrifying grin. The lifeless-like eyes darted across the dash and he ran a wrinkled hand over the steering wheel, almost as if stroking it. Kitt backed up once more. He tried contacting Bonnie and the semi, but the transmission wasn't getting through. Christine's gears shifted again, this time into Drive. The engine revved and the car shot forward and zeroed in on Kitt. Kitt knew that even if the Fury were to crash into him his molecular bonded shell wouldn't suffer any damage. Kitt's main concern was Michael, who wasn't wearing a seatbelt. If the Fury were to crash into Kitt, Michael would be catapulted through the windshield. Kitt couldn't take that risk. Doing a 180 Kitt speed away from the Plymouth, and the Plymouth followed. The junkyard was littered with cars. Kitt concentrated 17 % of his processor capabilities into navigation, 23 into propulsion and the remaining 80 to figure out how to get Michael out of the car. Kitt made a quick 90 degree turn around a pile of pickups, he was surprised to see the Fury -whom Kitt had thought much less agile- complete the turn almost exactly as he had. Kitt speed towards a pileup of several cars and found out that he was heading into a dead end. Kitt scanned and found out that the area behind the cars was empty. So, this Fury could match Kitt's speed in the cramped quarters of this graveyard of cars, but Kitt was sure it couldn't match his jump. Gathering speed, Kitt activated Turbo Boost and shored over the cars. He scanned back and found that Christine had braked on the other side. As soon as Kitt was able, he stopped. His engine rumbled nervously and though he wouldn't admit it, fear raced through his processor like a lightning bolt. Ghosts and goblins were not real! Kitt didn't understand. Keeping a scanner lock on Christine -whom hadn't moved- Kitt pulled up every file he had on haunting, ghosts and the likes. He came up empty on haunted cars. Christine was on the move. Kitt's scanners tracked the Fury as it made its way slowly through the junkyard. It didn't have Kitt's scanners so it would have to look for Kitt. Kitt knew he could scan and keep one step ahead of the Fury in-diffidently but that would not help Michael. Kitt didn't know if the car needed a human to be able to move, but Kitt doubted it. Michael had not touched the gears, they had moved by themselves. Inside the Plymouth sat Michael Knight. But he wasn't in there alone, now he had company. For a brief instant the Fury stopped and Michael reverted back into his old self, "Kitt?" He whispered quietly and looked around. That only lasted for an instant. In seconds Michael's eyes glazed over as the other entity reclaimed its hold on Michael's body. Silently the Fury began to fill up with people. Only they weren't alive and they weren't really people. They were entities, ghosts, souls of people who had died such a horrible death that they couldn't rest, not as long as the Plymouth rolled. And roll it would, if Roland D. LeBay had anything to say about it.
It had been some time since he and Christine had cruised. Some time since. LeBay didn't like to admit it, but he wasn't a young man anymore. He needed strength to drive Christine. He had needed someone, someone like Michael Knight. He felt something on his cheek and wiped it away. Glancing to his side he saw a maggot wriggling. He frowned, rolled down Christine's window and chucked it out. Mustn't ruin Christine's upholstery. He glanced to his right. Riding shotgun next to him was his wife who was holding a child in her lap. The child's head rolled lifelessly but she was crying. LeBay couldn't recall either of their names at the moment, but he didn't really care. Besides, deep down he knew, they were just like the others. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, yes just like all those other shitters. In the back seat, there was commotion as the occupants kept changing. One second there was a fat high-school boy with a Libertyville High School jacket on, then a middle-aged man, then another man, who was wheezing for his breath. LeBay laughed. Yes, they all had gotten what they deserved. LeBay could feel Michael Knight try and regain control of his body, but no, he couldn't allow that, no sir. He had things to do, shitters to.well. He smiled again feeling the power of Christine at his fingertips once more. It was an intoxicating feeling. Though--- he had to admit, he wasn't sure where he was at the moment. There had been another car, a black car that had tried to keep this man from touching Christine. A car. LeBay grinned, well a car could be a shitter too, he guessed. And shitters had to be dealt with. Kitt started his engine and moved. He continued to go through his databanks looking for anything that might explain this. As he moved through the junkyard he also moved back through time of L.A.'s newspaper articles, other newspaper articles, on anything dealing Plymouth cars. Car show ads, for sale ads. flashed through his processor. Every now and then Kitt reached over to the comm. link, but received only static in return. He came up empty. As Kitt continued to circle he reached into old police reports and to his horror found that he didn't have to go all that far back into the past. Kitt stumbled onto an article from Libertyville Pennsylvania: "Mysterious road-death of gas-jockey". Kitt read the article quickly, and then turned his attention to the police reports about that case. The officer assigned to it had been someone called Junkins, now deceased. With the speed of a computer Kitt read the reports and found something very interesting. Detective Junkins had been quite up to date and had kept a personal log in the precinct's computer. Kitt found it child's play to break the password and began to read, all while circling to stay out of the Fury's sight. "There is no explanation! Call it instinct or whatever, that kid's car is somehow connected to this case. Just how or why is beyond me at the moment, but I intend to find out. Darnell suspects something, but won't talk. No doubt he's protecting the kid. That won't be a problem for long though. Soon he won't have nothing to protect. Also I think I've seen that car before. Just can't place where. Okay, so the gas-jockey was a loser, high- school dropout and he was involved with trashing the kid's car. The pictures I took should be ready tomorrow. Arnie has a motive. and a weapon. I just don't have the proof." A picture. Kitt began to search through the police database. He pulled up an old black-and-white photograph of a one Plymouth Fury 1958, custom colors, registered to Arnold Cunningham on November 1, 1978 in Libertyville Pennsylvania. Kitt pulled up every thing there was about that car. Inspection dates, police reports. He was surprised to find that the car had been almost wreaked by some kids back then. Kitt then traced the whereabouts of these kids now and wasn't too surprised to find that they had all died. He pulled those cases: Teenagers killed in a fiery car crash Car crashes through house killing one A father killed in a hit and run. All in Libertyville, Pennsylvania. All around 1979. Except one. Just recently eyewitnesses had reported a red-and-white car involved in a hit- and-run case killing the victim a Sander Galton, here in California! Kitt reached back into old police reports and found that name again. He had been in the same class as the kids who had trashed the Plymouth; in fact he had been on the suspect list. Kitt turned his attention away from the history of the car he was now running from. Little by little Kitt began to believe in ghosts. Kitt stopped. Well, this was all very interesting, but how would it help get Michael out of that car! Night had set in and stars fought to glow through the city lights. In fact it was a beautiful night if it wasn't for that killer car out there. It was clear that talking to Michael wouldn't work. Kitt was quickly running out of options. Kitt went into silent mood and set off to confront the other car. He had to see how Michael was doing. There had to be some way to get him out of that car. LeBay was getting stronger. He could feel it. Along with him, Christine was also gaining strength. The mileage ran steadily lower. LeBay was alone again, except for Christine. Christine was always there. LeBay stroked the gash again and glanced around. What was it about that other car, the black one? He knew there was a way to find out where the car was, but that would mean leaving Christine woundable. LeBay had had his share of enemies in his life and he had his share even now when he was dead. Oh yes, he knew that he was dead! But he didn't really care. Now he was truly one with the only one he cared about, the only one he had ever really loved: Christine. Suddenly LeBay felt a chill pass over him. Someone else was here, someone he had known and used like he was using Michael now. LeBay tightened his grip on the wheel. A jolt shocked him! Almost electrical current ran down Michael's hands and straight into LeBay. Michael/LeBay screamed and clutched his/their hands. LeBay looked at his hands in horror, they were burned and blistering. Distancing himself from Michael and the human pain the shock caused him, LeBay gathered himself. It wasn't Christine who had shocked him, it was the other one. LeBay had known they'd meet again, he just hadn't figured it would be here and now. Regaining his presence within Michael LeBay got ready for battle. It wasn't Michael that was for sure. Kitt didn't have the slightest doubt that the being that sat at the wheel of the Plymouth wasn't his driver, but someone or something was using Michael. Kitt wad stopped and was waiting. Exactly what or whom he was waiting for, Kitt wasn't sure, but he was through running from this other car. Suddenly Kitt felt a cold wind blow straight through his haul and settle inside his cabin. None of his windows or doors were open so how was this possible!?! Then there was a weight that settled into Kitt's driver's side seat. Kitt tried and retired his visual sensors, but there was no one there, yet the weight remained. "Hello?" Kitt tried, "Who's there?" The weight shifted as if Kitt's PDM seats were uncomfortable to it. Then a voice spoke softly, "I'm here to help." Kitt's interior sensors registered a hand's touch here and there; on his wheel, gearshift, dash, "Who are you? Can you show yourself?" Kitt asked again. The weight shifted again and the voice responded, "As I said, I'm here to help. I know who we're up against. I could show myself, but I'd rather not. I don't want my apperance to frighten you." Kitt considered this then recalled the gruesome transformation that had taken place in Michael and decided not to pursue the matter, instead he asked, "What can I call you?" The weight moved to the passenger's side, "You can call me Arnie." There he was! LeBay considered the black car in front of him. This Michael Knight that LeBay held tightly under his control knew that car very well. Michael knew Kitt TOO well for now LeBay knew Kitt as well. LeBay was almost jealous: Molecular Bonded Shell (whatever that was, LeBay thought for even Michael didn't seem to completely know) sounded very good. Indestructible. and it could jump! If Christine could get that shell, the power that went into regeneration. Christine's engine stalled at LeBay's thoughts. Christine didn't like him thinking that she wasn't perfect. "Easy, my beautiful. You can take care of yourself I know you can. But that car could be trouble." Christine's engine growled again and the car seemed to jump forward, ready to prove her worth. She was sizing him up. This time Kitt didn't back down but revved his motor allowing the other car to see his pure power. It hurt Kitt to see his driver at the wheel of that car. Kitt zoomed in on Michael's face. Michael seemed to be fighting the presence that had possessed him. Approximately every tenth second the rotting face of the old man changed to Michael's. The weight in his passenger seat shifted again. It seemed to be peering into Kitt's monitor. "The face you're looking at is the face of a ghost. That dead man at the wheel is Roland D. LeBay. He used to own that car before.before me." Kitt jumped inside his CPU. This Arnie had OWNED that killer!?! "So that's what you meant when you said you knew who we were up against! I have to get my partner out of that car! I just can't do it by force, I might hurt him". Outside Ben & Bill's Used Auto-parts two cars pulled up. They were both part of the exchange deal why Kitt and Michael were here in the first place. A freight train rattled by, so the people didn't here the two cars revving their engines inside the car-lot. One of them got out and opened the gates and let both of the cars inside. When they were in, he closed and locked the gates again, not knowing that he was shutting them into a showdown. Arnie had a score to settle with LeBay. He had followed Christine even after LeBay had been responsible for Arnie's and his mother's deaths. But Arnie hadn't followed Christine out of love, LeBay no longer possessed him either as he had for so long. No his reason was more primitive then that, it was revenge. Revenge and if Arnie could stop LeBay from ever doing damage again it might put his soul to rest. Deep down he was still the nice boy he had been before laying eyes onto Christine. He wished he had listened to Dennis about Christine, or to Leigh. They had both known and had tried to warn him, but then LeBay had. Snapping back into the present Arnie glanced at the dash of this strange car. Like Christine this car can but itself. It even talked, but there was none of the dark menace that radiated from the old Fury. There had only been worry evident in the car's voice. Concern for his driver. Arnie wanted to help Kitt. He wanted to undo some of the things LeBay had made him do. "Okay, let's get some distance between us and her. I have a plan." As Kitt turned and did what Arnie asked, Arnie began to fill Kitt in on what he knew about LeBay now. "LeBay's obvious shortcoming is, that he can't be in two places at once. He also considers other people inferior to himself, calling most of the human race ´shitters´. We have to get LeBay away from Michael, and then we have to destroy Christine. LeBay draws most of his strength from the car itself, but he can only get so much. In order to fully control Christine, he has to have a host. Like I was and like Michael is now. He is quick moving from one place to another, but I'm faster. I don't think he can hurt you Kitt, as I'm pretty sure he can't go into circuitry. I let him have a taste of electricity just a little while ago, he didn't like it. When LeBay leaves Christine and comes after me, Michael will experience a short of shock. It'll leave him disoriented. Kitt, when that happens you have to get Michael out of that car. LeBay will have trouble re-entering Michael if Michael isn't in Christine." Kitt listened to this with growing unease. This wasn't possible! Kitt was programmed to believe in real, logical things, ghosts weren't logical, neither had they been real, until only some hours ago. Arnie was waiting for Kitt's reaction to his plan. "How will you convince LeBay to leave Christine?" "I'm a threat. LeBay has to neutralize me, since I know him. But since I have to get him away from Christine, I think we have to pay him a visit. LeBay suspects some one else is here, but I don't know if he knows it's me. Come on Kitt; let's end this once and for all. Oh and Kitt, once you get Michael inside here, get him as far away from here as possible. LeBay isn't as strong as he used to be, so distance should get Michael safe. Don't worry about me. You can't help me anyway, since I'm already dead. But Michael isn't. " Kitt rolled to meet Christine almost back to where they had originally met. Christine was waiting. Her running lights were off, but exhaust curled up from behind her. Kitt stopped some ways from her. He felt the weight leave his seat and the chill pass through him. Kitt flipped his headlights up and was surprised to see a human form about halfway between him and Christine. Kitt zoomed in on the form and recoiled in shock. Though it was clearly standing, both of the legs were sticking out in odd angles. Bone pierced through on jean-clad leg. One hand hung uselessly, but the other was knotted into a tight fist. The rib cage had collapsed and the scalp hung off the skull. This begin was standing between Kitt and Christine. Protecting Kitt. Now Kitt knew. This corpse was Arnold Cunningham, the last known owner of the Plymouth Fury known as Christine. Kitt quickly checked into his files. Arnie had been killed in a car crash. Christine's engine revved. But Arnie's voice rose easily over the roar of the V8. "You can't run me over with her! I'm already dead! I know what you're doing! Come out! Face me! I won't let you hurt anyone again!" Suddenly Christine quieted. A bolt of lighting flashed and struck the ground before Arnie's feet just as two Cadillacs pulled into view. Arnie saw his chance and dove right into one of them, possessing the driver of one of them within seconds. "NOW KITT!" he shouted out of the open window. LeBay had left Michael and Christine and manifested himself in a bolt of lighting. He saw Arnie head towards one of the Caddies and headed in a rage towards the other one. That was one his mistakes, but he didn't see it yet. He didn't see anything except blinding rage. Assaulting the body of the other Caddie's driver, LeBay tried the quick takeover he had with Michael, but this time it didn't work. Kitt heard Arnie's shout and accelerated towards Christine. Deploying his grappling hook, Kitt punched a hole in Christine's driver's side door. He applied extra power to his winch and the door of the Fury flew off, hitting Kitt's hood with a thump. "Michael! Listen to me! If you trust me, get out of that car right now! Get out of there and in here, Michael! Get into the Trans Am!" Kitt added for emphases. Dazed, but conscience enough to know Kitt's voice, Michael complied. As he fell inside Kitt and passed out, the door shut behind him and Kitt followed Arnie's advice and turned around and ran. Activating the Passive Laser Restraint System, Kitt used Turbo Boost to fly over the gates. He didn't want to crash through them, since he most certainly wanted to keep Christine behind them. Once over, Kitt applied all power to propulsion. He didn't get to see what happened at Ben and Bill's Used Auto-parts after he left. Mistake! LeBay knew the moment his mind entered the mind of the Cadillac driver. He couldn't think straight. His mind was afire. He tried to retreat, but the mind he had entered was already possessed. A howl of pain escaped him. LeBay had never been under the influence of LSD, heroine or any drug for that matter. But this human was. Unlike Arnie, who had possessed the mind of a small time drug currier who didn't do drugs just ran interface, LeBay had been unlucky enough to try and take over the mind of Daniel J. Jackson. A man who had been high for so long, his mind was no longer his own, but a mind that was controlled by drugs. Desperately LeBay tried to extricate his mind from the mind of Jackson but the drugs were stronger. On the outside there was evidence of the fight that was going on inside Daniel's mind. Jackson's face had shifted from the horror of the mental assault, to LeBay's face, then back to Jackson's, then back to LeBay's that grimaced with unbearable pain. Another high-pitched scream shattered the windshield of the Cadillac. Then after no more then a minute had passed the struggle was over. Neither had won. The drug-weakened mind of Daniel J. Jackson couldn't stand the assault of Roland D. LeBay and Roland D. LeBay couldn't stand the assault of the drugged mind of Daniel J. Jackson. Inside the other Caddie, the ghost of Arnold Cunningham felt a weight lift off of him. He maintained control over the currier boy who was no older then he himself had been when he had died. He watched as the form of the other Caddie driver suddenly slumped to one side. The presence that had been Roland D. LeBay vanished. Arnie breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. LeBay was gone. Arnie left the body of the currier boy. The kid promptly fainted. He would wake up tomorrow with a huge head-ace and no recollection of how he had got to Ben and Bill's Used Auto-parts. Nor what had happened. Arnie moved over to where Christine sat. Before Arnie, the car began to age. Tires deflated, the bumps and bruises that had healed themselves before returned with force. Rust seamed to eat the Plymouth up from the inside out. A clatter could be heard in the night as Christine's engine literally fell apart. The Fury seemed to sink into the ground. This all lasted less then a minute. After a minute had passed the Fury was in the same state as most of the cars in this lot. Aged, beyond repair, dead. Arnie felt himself fading. He knew that without the fury of LeBay, there was nothing for Christine to feed off of and vice versa. Arnie felt his mind scatter and with a final sigh of relief, he surrendered to what he hoped would be a long, peaceful sleep. Kitt had pulled into the semi at full speed. He had frightened Bonnie and Devon half to death by pulling a stunt like that. Michael had been in a coma for almost two days. After a week in recovery Michael had come to see Kitt in the lab. He didn't remember anything. He just remembered the car junkyard, then nothing. Kitt rarely kept secrets from his friends, least of all Michael but this time he didn't tell him what had happened. When Bonnie had tried to download the logs she had come up with a recording error report, but had failed to find anything physically wrong with Kitt. It had happened before and though Bonnie was suspicious she couldn't prove anything. The police reports about the death of Daniel J. Jackson were very ordinary. Death by drug-overdose. Way south in Alabama a young boy had traded his Cadillac in for some cash and went back to finish high school. He didn't know what had made him change his mind about school. Maybe it had been that killer head-ace that he had had when he had come too in that car-lot. He was rather looking forward to school again, forward to an ordinary life. His mother was certainly relieved that her son seemed to have come to his senses. When Michael had been recovering, Kitt had gone back. Back to Ben & Bill's just to make sure. He had not gone inside, but had stayed outside and scanned the interior of the lot. He had also made a phone call to Bill himself pretending to be someone restoring an old '85 Plymouth Fury and was looking for bargain parts. Bill had said he was sorry. That he had had one Fury up 'till awhile ago, but there hadn't been anything salvageable in it when he had last looked and he had put it through the lot's car crasher. Kitt had kindly thanked him and driven back to the Foundation. He had a secret, but telling would hurt people more then keeping that night locked safely away in his backup memory. Maybe someday he could bring himself so at ease with that matter so he could delete those files. Now he was just looking forward to another assignment. Something LESS Halloween.
Knight Rider characters copyright Glen A. Larson
Plymouth Christine, Arnold "Arnie" Cunningham, Leigh, Roland D. LeBay,
Darnell, Sander Galton and Dennis are copyrighted by Stephen King
I only borrowed then, I didn't steal, please don't sue me.
No copyright infringement intended.
Any references to actual places or people are unintended and accidental.
This is a work of pure fiction.
This story classifies as HORROR. Parental guidance highly recommended.
Be forewarned, you might want to read Stephen King's "Christine".
Otherwise, this story will be hard to follow.
"Ah, Michael come in." Devon was cheerful, almost too cheerful decided Michael Knight as he walked into the lavishly furnished office. Michael frowned; Devon was never this cheerful, when Michael was headed for a vacation. "Oh no, Devon! No way! I know that look. I'm not working this Halloween. I already packed." Devon held up a hand, "Calm down, Michael. You will still get to leave tomorrow evening as planned. Anyway technically you are still on duty today. Or should I say tonight." Sighing Michael gave in and sat down. Devon walked over to a filing cabinet and took out a folder. "Daniel J. Jackson." Devon said as he handed the folder to Michael. "He has an arrest record a mile long. He imports drugs from Mexico, or so it is believed. He is an ex-cop gone bad and he knows just how the police think. They know he's doing something, there's just no evidence to prove it." Michael looked at the photos of the man. And then he looked again. Michael could scarcely believe that he was looking at the same man. The first photo was of Daniel Jackson as a young graduate out of the police academy. He was clean-shaven and was smiling at the camera. The second photo could have been of another man. This man looked to be in his early thirties. He was un- shaved, with a mop of greasy black hair that seemed to reach down to who- knows-how-far. He didn't seem to have any eyebrows or eyelashes. Michael held the photo a little further and tilted it. Either the photo was badly over-exposed or the man had completely white skin! Small, beady bloodshot eyes peered out from under heavy eyelids. "Whoooo! What's this guy on?!?" Devon looked disgusted, "On just about everything. He deals everything from crack to cocaine all the way to LSD. And unlike most dealers he seems to enjoy his own merchandise. An informant of ours told us about a large shipment that is going to change hands tonight. He's an ex-user who wants out. The police seem to think he's a trustworthy informant. Michael leaned back, "Speaking about the police, isn't this a matter they should handle? Why bring the Foundation into this?" Devon took the folder from Michael, "Usually yes, but the problem here is that Mr. Jackson is an ex-cop and there's word going around that he can SMELL a cop. That's why we're involved." Michael resigned to his fate. "So where's this deal going down and when?" Devon consulted the folder again before replying, "11 pm sharp at Ben & Bill's Used Auto-parts roughly 20 miles south of here. Basically it is a car junkyard where you might find a part or two for your car for a bargain." Michael got up. "So it's basically: catch this vampire-look-a- like and send him back to spend time with the cops, this time behind bars."
"Alright Kitt, download when you're ready." Bonnie watched as the AI connected with her computer and downloaded the files for Michael's last case before his vacation. It took Kitt about two seconds to figure out where tonight's stakeout was going to be, "Ben & Bill's Used Auto-parts! No! We've gone past it several times with Michael. The sight is quite depressing. Bonnie, all those poor cars." Bonnie closed Kitt's hood as Michael walked in, "Hi Bon, bye Bon. I'll have Kitt back before you know it." With that Kitt's turbine engine ignitiated and the two partners left Foundation grounds and headed south. Dust was setting as Kitt and Michael pulled up to a rusted-up old gate. A crocked sign stated: "Ben & Bill's Used Auto Parts always at a bargain price" The yard was closed for the night. "Alright, Kitt, go into surveillance mode and scan inside." Kitt's scanner flashed, "The is no-one inside. Shall I unlock the gate for us?" Michael smiled as the gate's lock snapped open and the gate swung open. "Thanks partner." Kitt stopped dead as they drove inside. "Michael." the AI almost whispered. The where hundreds of cars as far as the eye could see. It really was a depressing sight. Cars of all makes and models were piled up upon one another. All bore signs of age and rust. Some had parts missing when others were little more then skeletons of their former proud states. It was a graveyard for cars. "You okay, buddy?" Kitt rarely over-road manual drive but now he had stopped. "This is equivalent of looking at corpses, Michael. I don't have a good feeling about this place. The engine started again and Kitt switched to Auto-cruise. They moved slowly passed the heaps of dead cars. Kitt found a suitable hiding place within sight of where the exchange was to take place. Kitt backed up between a beat-up old Ford and a red-and-white Plymouth Fury. The time was eight p.m. They had wanted to be early so there would be no one there. Now they had three hours to wait. Michael declined the seat and settled down, "Wake me up if anything happens, Kitt. I'm taking a nap." Kitt darkened the windows to allow Michael to sleep. And he continued to scan. An hour later there had been no movement. Kitt turned his attention to the two cars in-between, which he was parked. The Ford Thunderbird on his left was in a sorry state. Cannibalised of almost everything, the car sat on the ground rusting away. Kitt turned his attention to the Plymouth on his right. This car was in much better shape. Kitt's scanners ran over the Fury's powerful frame, over the rear-wings and nearly evil-looking front grill. Kitt was surprised that the Fury was whole. No one had taken any spare parts. Kitt found that odd, as there was sure to be plenty of people who were restoring old Plymouths. Kitt began a more detailed scan. Underneath all the dust and rubble Kitt found an almost perfect red-and- white paint job. There seemed to be almost no dents or scratches on it. Remarkably the Plymouth had had no cars piled up on top of it. Even the tires seemed half full. Kitt turned his attention inside the Fury. There was less dust inside. The seats seemed well worn, but there were no obvious rips in the upholstery. As Kitt's sensors ran over and over the inside of the Plymouth Kitt became more and more intrigued. He actually had to remind himself to keep scanning his surroundings as well should their awaited smugglers arrive. The real surprise came with the motor. Kitt had expected to se signs of age and tons of mileage, but what he found was an engine -though outdated- in extremely good condition. In fact there was even oil in it! And the mileage. Then, just for the briefest of moments, Kitt's sensors caught a surge of power from the Fury's engine. Kitt almost jumped, "Michael!" Michael woke up in a flash, almost hitting his head on one of the overhead consuls, "What is it Kitt? Are they here?" Michael was surprised to see that Kitt had powered up, though he had not ignitiated the engine. Kitt rarely woke Michael up with a startled cry like this one, yet Michael could see nothing out of the ordinary in the junkyard. "No, there's no one here, at least I don't think so. Michael, my scanner detected power coming from the car on my right." Michael squinted into the darkness and his eyes rested on the Plymouth. Giving Kitt's voice modulator an odd look, Michael opened the door and got out. He circled Kitt and scrutinized the Plymouth. He reached his hand towards the car's door. "DON'T TOUCH IT!" Kitt's scream pierced the darkness like a knife and made Michael snap his hand back. Kitt almost never used extra volume. Michael cast another look at his partner and then stepped closer to the Fury. His eyes ran over the back wings and the white roof. Leaning forward he peered inside the car. "There's nothing like the smell of a new car." Michael took a step back. What had made him think about that? Certainly this car didn't resemble a new car any more then any other in this lot. Yet he had almost heard that sentence, almost as if someone had spoken. Michael walked to the front of the Fury. He cast a look at his partner's scanner and then returned to stare at the Plymouth. "Michael, there's something about that car." Kitt sounded hesitant. Michael gave Kitt a wry smile, "You sure you aren't getting spooked, Kitt. Like you said, we are in a graveyard of sorts and it's getting close to midnight - when all the ghosts come out." Kitt seemed hurt, "Of course not, Michael! You should know me better then that. Just be careful around that car." Michael nodded and continued to circle the Fury. "There's nothing." Michael stopped, there it was again! "Michael? What is it? Your heart rate just shot up." Michael gazed inside the car, "Did you hear that, Kitt?" Kitt started his motor; suddenly he didn't care about hiding and catching the drug exchange. All he cared about was getting away from the other car. No other car had had that effect on him since, well - Karr. Careful not to move too suddenly, Kitt moved to a good distance from the Fury. He had not heard anything but Michael clearly had. Then even though Kitt had warned him, Michael reached out and touched the Plymouth's dust-covered body. "Let's go for a ride, big guy." Michael stood transfixed staring at the worn seats and the faded paintjob. Keeping his hand on the roof Michael began to circle the car again. "Michael? Michael! Get away from there!" Kitt's scanner moved fast as he attempted to get through to his partner. Michael however seemed to have gone into some kind of trance. He walked to the driver's side door of the Plymouth -and opened it. "Michael NO!" Kitt searched his databanks trying to find a way to get through to Michael. Before Kitt could do anything else Michael sat down on the worn seat. He reached out slowly, almost as if in a slow-motion film. He caressed the dash, and then halted his hands before laying his hands on the wheel. The moment Michael's hands touched the wheel -everything changed. Kitt's olfactory scan signalled at the same time as his visual scanners were overloaded with images that he couldn't explain. Kitt was a computer used to processing logical data, data that could be understood, but now all he could do was watch. When Michael had gotten inside the Plymouth, his comlink had gone silent. Though Kitt could still see his partner, but to Kitt's other "senses" Michael had suddenly disappeared. The exterior of the Plymouth began to change. Though there was no wind, the layers of dust flew off of the car in a tornado-like swirl. Some of the few dents in the car's frame straitened themselves as if by magic. One of the Fury's front lights came on, died out then flashed once and cast it's light over Kitt, almost as if the other car was contemplating Kitt, watching him with one eye. Michael had not closed the door. Kitt's olfactory scan signalled again and Kitt identified the smell that was coming from the Fury. It was the smell of something rotting. Human flesh, Kitt identified with shock. Kitt revved his engine, unsure as of what to do next. He had to get Michael out of there, but as he was a car he couldn't very well go and drag him out! Kitt's pleas to his partner fell on death ears as Michael Knight continued to sit in the Fury. Kitt watched as Michael began to speak or rather to mouth words. Even though no sound came out Kitt was able to lip-read, "Christine.let's go for a drive.Christine." As the other headlight came on the smell of rotting flesh became so overwhelming it threatened to overload Kitt's olfactory scanner, nothing had ever come close to doing that. Then to Kitt's ultimate surprise, the Plymouth's V-8 engine roared to life. It didn't even choke but revved and Kitt heard the sound of gears being shifted through. It-SHE, Kitt corrected himself- was alive and had a name. He had been scanning Michael and his driver wasn't doing anything except sitting in the driver's chair. The gears shifted to neutral and the engine settled to a low hum. Michael's eyes had remained downcast and he was mouthing the same words over and over again, "Christine.let's go for a drive.Christine.let's cruise."Now ever so slowly Michael lifted his head and his eyes fastened onto the black car that he had known for so many years. But they were not the eyes of Michael Knight. Kitt zoomed in on Michael's face and literally backed up in horror. The eyes that stared out from the face of his once-familiar partner were the eyes of a dead man. Time seemed to have stopped as a transformation began to take place. The smooth skin of Michael's face was replaced by wrinkles. His body stooped down, powerful muscles degenerated and as the minutes passed by Michael transformed into an old man, or rather into a dead man. As Kitt continued to watch, Michael's face shifted into a grimace and then into a horrifying grin. The lifeless-like eyes darted across the dash and he ran a wrinkled hand over the steering wheel, almost as if stroking it. Kitt backed up once more. He tried contacting Bonnie and the semi, but the transmission wasn't getting through. Christine's gears shifted again, this time into Drive. The engine revved and the car shot forward and zeroed in on Kitt. Kitt knew that even if the Fury were to crash into him his molecular bonded shell wouldn't suffer any damage. Kitt's main concern was Michael, who wasn't wearing a seatbelt. If the Fury were to crash into Kitt, Michael would be catapulted through the windshield. Kitt couldn't take that risk. Doing a 180 Kitt speed away from the Plymouth, and the Plymouth followed. The junkyard was littered with cars. Kitt concentrated 17 % of his processor capabilities into navigation, 23 into propulsion and the remaining 80 to figure out how to get Michael out of the car. Kitt made a quick 90 degree turn around a pile of pickups, he was surprised to see the Fury -whom Kitt had thought much less agile- complete the turn almost exactly as he had. Kitt speed towards a pileup of several cars and found out that he was heading into a dead end. Kitt scanned and found out that the area behind the cars was empty. So, this Fury could match Kitt's speed in the cramped quarters of this graveyard of cars, but Kitt was sure it couldn't match his jump. Gathering speed, Kitt activated Turbo Boost and shored over the cars. He scanned back and found that Christine had braked on the other side. As soon as Kitt was able, he stopped. His engine rumbled nervously and though he wouldn't admit it, fear raced through his processor like a lightning bolt. Ghosts and goblins were not real! Kitt didn't understand. Keeping a scanner lock on Christine -whom hadn't moved- Kitt pulled up every file he had on haunting, ghosts and the likes. He came up empty on haunted cars. Christine was on the move. Kitt's scanners tracked the Fury as it made its way slowly through the junkyard. It didn't have Kitt's scanners so it would have to look for Kitt. Kitt knew he could scan and keep one step ahead of the Fury in-diffidently but that would not help Michael. Kitt didn't know if the car needed a human to be able to move, but Kitt doubted it. Michael had not touched the gears, they had moved by themselves. Inside the Plymouth sat Michael Knight. But he wasn't in there alone, now he had company. For a brief instant the Fury stopped and Michael reverted back into his old self, "Kitt?" He whispered quietly and looked around. That only lasted for an instant. In seconds Michael's eyes glazed over as the other entity reclaimed its hold on Michael's body. Silently the Fury began to fill up with people. Only they weren't alive and they weren't really people. They were entities, ghosts, souls of people who had died such a horrible death that they couldn't rest, not as long as the Plymouth rolled. And roll it would, if Roland D. LeBay had anything to say about it.
It had been some time since he and Christine had cruised. Some time since. LeBay didn't like to admit it, but he wasn't a young man anymore. He needed strength to drive Christine. He had needed someone, someone like Michael Knight. He felt something on his cheek and wiped it away. Glancing to his side he saw a maggot wriggling. He frowned, rolled down Christine's window and chucked it out. Mustn't ruin Christine's upholstery. He glanced to his right. Riding shotgun next to him was his wife who was holding a child in her lap. The child's head rolled lifelessly but she was crying. LeBay couldn't recall either of their names at the moment, but he didn't really care. Besides, deep down he knew, they were just like the others. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, yes just like all those other shitters. In the back seat, there was commotion as the occupants kept changing. One second there was a fat high-school boy with a Libertyville High School jacket on, then a middle-aged man, then another man, who was wheezing for his breath. LeBay laughed. Yes, they all had gotten what they deserved. LeBay could feel Michael Knight try and regain control of his body, but no, he couldn't allow that, no sir. He had things to do, shitters to.well. He smiled again feeling the power of Christine at his fingertips once more. It was an intoxicating feeling. Though--- he had to admit, he wasn't sure where he was at the moment. There had been another car, a black car that had tried to keep this man from touching Christine. A car. LeBay grinned, well a car could be a shitter too, he guessed. And shitters had to be dealt with. Kitt started his engine and moved. He continued to go through his databanks looking for anything that might explain this. As he moved through the junkyard he also moved back through time of L.A.'s newspaper articles, other newspaper articles, on anything dealing Plymouth cars. Car show ads, for sale ads. flashed through his processor. Every now and then Kitt reached over to the comm. link, but received only static in return. He came up empty. As Kitt continued to circle he reached into old police reports and to his horror found that he didn't have to go all that far back into the past. Kitt stumbled onto an article from Libertyville Pennsylvania: "Mysterious road-death of gas-jockey". Kitt read the article quickly, and then turned his attention to the police reports about that case. The officer assigned to it had been someone called Junkins, now deceased. With the speed of a computer Kitt read the reports and found something very interesting. Detective Junkins had been quite up to date and had kept a personal log in the precinct's computer. Kitt found it child's play to break the password and began to read, all while circling to stay out of the Fury's sight. "There is no explanation! Call it instinct or whatever, that kid's car is somehow connected to this case. Just how or why is beyond me at the moment, but I intend to find out. Darnell suspects something, but won't talk. No doubt he's protecting the kid. That won't be a problem for long though. Soon he won't have nothing to protect. Also I think I've seen that car before. Just can't place where. Okay, so the gas-jockey was a loser, high- school dropout and he was involved with trashing the kid's car. The pictures I took should be ready tomorrow. Arnie has a motive. and a weapon. I just don't have the proof." A picture. Kitt began to search through the police database. He pulled up an old black-and-white photograph of a one Plymouth Fury 1958, custom colors, registered to Arnold Cunningham on November 1, 1978 in Libertyville Pennsylvania. Kitt pulled up every thing there was about that car. Inspection dates, police reports. He was surprised to find that the car had been almost wreaked by some kids back then. Kitt then traced the whereabouts of these kids now and wasn't too surprised to find that they had all died. He pulled those cases: Teenagers killed in a fiery car crash Car crashes through house killing one A father killed in a hit and run. All in Libertyville, Pennsylvania. All around 1979. Except one. Just recently eyewitnesses had reported a red-and-white car involved in a hit- and-run case killing the victim a Sander Galton, here in California! Kitt reached back into old police reports and found that name again. He had been in the same class as the kids who had trashed the Plymouth; in fact he had been on the suspect list. Kitt turned his attention away from the history of the car he was now running from. Little by little Kitt began to believe in ghosts. Kitt stopped. Well, this was all very interesting, but how would it help get Michael out of that car! Night had set in and stars fought to glow through the city lights. In fact it was a beautiful night if it wasn't for that killer car out there. It was clear that talking to Michael wouldn't work. Kitt was quickly running out of options. Kitt went into silent mood and set off to confront the other car. He had to see how Michael was doing. There had to be some way to get him out of that car. LeBay was getting stronger. He could feel it. Along with him, Christine was also gaining strength. The mileage ran steadily lower. LeBay was alone again, except for Christine. Christine was always there. LeBay stroked the gash again and glanced around. What was it about that other car, the black one? He knew there was a way to find out where the car was, but that would mean leaving Christine woundable. LeBay had had his share of enemies in his life and he had his share even now when he was dead. Oh yes, he knew that he was dead! But he didn't really care. Now he was truly one with the only one he cared about, the only one he had ever really loved: Christine. Suddenly LeBay felt a chill pass over him. Someone else was here, someone he had known and used like he was using Michael now. LeBay tightened his grip on the wheel. A jolt shocked him! Almost electrical current ran down Michael's hands and straight into LeBay. Michael/LeBay screamed and clutched his/their hands. LeBay looked at his hands in horror, they were burned and blistering. Distancing himself from Michael and the human pain the shock caused him, LeBay gathered himself. It wasn't Christine who had shocked him, it was the other one. LeBay had known they'd meet again, he just hadn't figured it would be here and now. Regaining his presence within Michael LeBay got ready for battle. It wasn't Michael that was for sure. Kitt didn't have the slightest doubt that the being that sat at the wheel of the Plymouth wasn't his driver, but someone or something was using Michael. Kitt wad stopped and was waiting. Exactly what or whom he was waiting for, Kitt wasn't sure, but he was through running from this other car. Suddenly Kitt felt a cold wind blow straight through his haul and settle inside his cabin. None of his windows or doors were open so how was this possible!?! Then there was a weight that settled into Kitt's driver's side seat. Kitt tried and retired his visual sensors, but there was no one there, yet the weight remained. "Hello?" Kitt tried, "Who's there?" The weight shifted as if Kitt's PDM seats were uncomfortable to it. Then a voice spoke softly, "I'm here to help." Kitt's interior sensors registered a hand's touch here and there; on his wheel, gearshift, dash, "Who are you? Can you show yourself?" Kitt asked again. The weight shifted again and the voice responded, "As I said, I'm here to help. I know who we're up against. I could show myself, but I'd rather not. I don't want my apperance to frighten you." Kitt considered this then recalled the gruesome transformation that had taken place in Michael and decided not to pursue the matter, instead he asked, "What can I call you?" The weight moved to the passenger's side, "You can call me Arnie." There he was! LeBay considered the black car in front of him. This Michael Knight that LeBay held tightly under his control knew that car very well. Michael knew Kitt TOO well for now LeBay knew Kitt as well. LeBay was almost jealous: Molecular Bonded Shell (whatever that was, LeBay thought for even Michael didn't seem to completely know) sounded very good. Indestructible. and it could jump! If Christine could get that shell, the power that went into regeneration. Christine's engine stalled at LeBay's thoughts. Christine didn't like him thinking that she wasn't perfect. "Easy, my beautiful. You can take care of yourself I know you can. But that car could be trouble." Christine's engine growled again and the car seemed to jump forward, ready to prove her worth. She was sizing him up. This time Kitt didn't back down but revved his motor allowing the other car to see his pure power. It hurt Kitt to see his driver at the wheel of that car. Kitt zoomed in on Michael's face. Michael seemed to be fighting the presence that had possessed him. Approximately every tenth second the rotting face of the old man changed to Michael's. The weight in his passenger seat shifted again. It seemed to be peering into Kitt's monitor. "The face you're looking at is the face of a ghost. That dead man at the wheel is Roland D. LeBay. He used to own that car before.before me." Kitt jumped inside his CPU. This Arnie had OWNED that killer!?! "So that's what you meant when you said you knew who we were up against! I have to get my partner out of that car! I just can't do it by force, I might hurt him". Outside Ben & Bill's Used Auto-parts two cars pulled up. They were both part of the exchange deal why Kitt and Michael were here in the first place. A freight train rattled by, so the people didn't here the two cars revving their engines inside the car-lot. One of them got out and opened the gates and let both of the cars inside. When they were in, he closed and locked the gates again, not knowing that he was shutting them into a showdown. Arnie had a score to settle with LeBay. He had followed Christine even after LeBay had been responsible for Arnie's and his mother's deaths. But Arnie hadn't followed Christine out of love, LeBay no longer possessed him either as he had for so long. No his reason was more primitive then that, it was revenge. Revenge and if Arnie could stop LeBay from ever doing damage again it might put his soul to rest. Deep down he was still the nice boy he had been before laying eyes onto Christine. He wished he had listened to Dennis about Christine, or to Leigh. They had both known and had tried to warn him, but then LeBay had. Snapping back into the present Arnie glanced at the dash of this strange car. Like Christine this car can but itself. It even talked, but there was none of the dark menace that radiated from the old Fury. There had only been worry evident in the car's voice. Concern for his driver. Arnie wanted to help Kitt. He wanted to undo some of the things LeBay had made him do. "Okay, let's get some distance between us and her. I have a plan." As Kitt turned and did what Arnie asked, Arnie began to fill Kitt in on what he knew about LeBay now. "LeBay's obvious shortcoming is, that he can't be in two places at once. He also considers other people inferior to himself, calling most of the human race ´shitters´. We have to get LeBay away from Michael, and then we have to destroy Christine. LeBay draws most of his strength from the car itself, but he can only get so much. In order to fully control Christine, he has to have a host. Like I was and like Michael is now. He is quick moving from one place to another, but I'm faster. I don't think he can hurt you Kitt, as I'm pretty sure he can't go into circuitry. I let him have a taste of electricity just a little while ago, he didn't like it. When LeBay leaves Christine and comes after me, Michael will experience a short of shock. It'll leave him disoriented. Kitt, when that happens you have to get Michael out of that car. LeBay will have trouble re-entering Michael if Michael isn't in Christine." Kitt listened to this with growing unease. This wasn't possible! Kitt was programmed to believe in real, logical things, ghosts weren't logical, neither had they been real, until only some hours ago. Arnie was waiting for Kitt's reaction to his plan. "How will you convince LeBay to leave Christine?" "I'm a threat. LeBay has to neutralize me, since I know him. But since I have to get him away from Christine, I think we have to pay him a visit. LeBay suspects some one else is here, but I don't know if he knows it's me. Come on Kitt; let's end this once and for all. Oh and Kitt, once you get Michael inside here, get him as far away from here as possible. LeBay isn't as strong as he used to be, so distance should get Michael safe. Don't worry about me. You can't help me anyway, since I'm already dead. But Michael isn't. " Kitt rolled to meet Christine almost back to where they had originally met. Christine was waiting. Her running lights were off, but exhaust curled up from behind her. Kitt stopped some ways from her. He felt the weight leave his seat and the chill pass through him. Kitt flipped his headlights up and was surprised to see a human form about halfway between him and Christine. Kitt zoomed in on the form and recoiled in shock. Though it was clearly standing, both of the legs were sticking out in odd angles. Bone pierced through on jean-clad leg. One hand hung uselessly, but the other was knotted into a tight fist. The rib cage had collapsed and the scalp hung off the skull. This begin was standing between Kitt and Christine. Protecting Kitt. Now Kitt knew. This corpse was Arnold Cunningham, the last known owner of the Plymouth Fury known as Christine. Kitt quickly checked into his files. Arnie had been killed in a car crash. Christine's engine revved. But Arnie's voice rose easily over the roar of the V8. "You can't run me over with her! I'm already dead! I know what you're doing! Come out! Face me! I won't let you hurt anyone again!" Suddenly Christine quieted. A bolt of lighting flashed and struck the ground before Arnie's feet just as two Cadillacs pulled into view. Arnie saw his chance and dove right into one of them, possessing the driver of one of them within seconds. "NOW KITT!" he shouted out of the open window. LeBay had left Michael and Christine and manifested himself in a bolt of lighting. He saw Arnie head towards one of the Caddies and headed in a rage towards the other one. That was one his mistakes, but he didn't see it yet. He didn't see anything except blinding rage. Assaulting the body of the other Caddie's driver, LeBay tried the quick takeover he had with Michael, but this time it didn't work. Kitt heard Arnie's shout and accelerated towards Christine. Deploying his grappling hook, Kitt punched a hole in Christine's driver's side door. He applied extra power to his winch and the door of the Fury flew off, hitting Kitt's hood with a thump. "Michael! Listen to me! If you trust me, get out of that car right now! Get out of there and in here, Michael! Get into the Trans Am!" Kitt added for emphases. Dazed, but conscience enough to know Kitt's voice, Michael complied. As he fell inside Kitt and passed out, the door shut behind him and Kitt followed Arnie's advice and turned around and ran. Activating the Passive Laser Restraint System, Kitt used Turbo Boost to fly over the gates. He didn't want to crash through them, since he most certainly wanted to keep Christine behind them. Once over, Kitt applied all power to propulsion. He didn't get to see what happened at Ben and Bill's Used Auto-parts after he left. Mistake! LeBay knew the moment his mind entered the mind of the Cadillac driver. He couldn't think straight. His mind was afire. He tried to retreat, but the mind he had entered was already possessed. A howl of pain escaped him. LeBay had never been under the influence of LSD, heroine or any drug for that matter. But this human was. Unlike Arnie, who had possessed the mind of a small time drug currier who didn't do drugs just ran interface, LeBay had been unlucky enough to try and take over the mind of Daniel J. Jackson. A man who had been high for so long, his mind was no longer his own, but a mind that was controlled by drugs. Desperately LeBay tried to extricate his mind from the mind of Jackson but the drugs were stronger. On the outside there was evidence of the fight that was going on inside Daniel's mind. Jackson's face had shifted from the horror of the mental assault, to LeBay's face, then back to Jackson's, then back to LeBay's that grimaced with unbearable pain. Another high-pitched scream shattered the windshield of the Cadillac. Then after no more then a minute had passed the struggle was over. Neither had won. The drug-weakened mind of Daniel J. Jackson couldn't stand the assault of Roland D. LeBay and Roland D. LeBay couldn't stand the assault of the drugged mind of Daniel J. Jackson. Inside the other Caddie, the ghost of Arnold Cunningham felt a weight lift off of him. He maintained control over the currier boy who was no older then he himself had been when he had died. He watched as the form of the other Caddie driver suddenly slumped to one side. The presence that had been Roland D. LeBay vanished. Arnie breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. LeBay was gone. Arnie left the body of the currier boy. The kid promptly fainted. He would wake up tomorrow with a huge head-ace and no recollection of how he had got to Ben and Bill's Used Auto-parts. Nor what had happened. Arnie moved over to where Christine sat. Before Arnie, the car began to age. Tires deflated, the bumps and bruises that had healed themselves before returned with force. Rust seamed to eat the Plymouth up from the inside out. A clatter could be heard in the night as Christine's engine literally fell apart. The Fury seemed to sink into the ground. This all lasted less then a minute. After a minute had passed the Fury was in the same state as most of the cars in this lot. Aged, beyond repair, dead. Arnie felt himself fading. He knew that without the fury of LeBay, there was nothing for Christine to feed off of and vice versa. Arnie felt his mind scatter and with a final sigh of relief, he surrendered to what he hoped would be a long, peaceful sleep. Kitt had pulled into the semi at full speed. He had frightened Bonnie and Devon half to death by pulling a stunt like that. Michael had been in a coma for almost two days. After a week in recovery Michael had come to see Kitt in the lab. He didn't remember anything. He just remembered the car junkyard, then nothing. Kitt rarely kept secrets from his friends, least of all Michael but this time he didn't tell him what had happened. When Bonnie had tried to download the logs she had come up with a recording error report, but had failed to find anything physically wrong with Kitt. It had happened before and though Bonnie was suspicious she couldn't prove anything. The police reports about the death of Daniel J. Jackson were very ordinary. Death by drug-overdose. Way south in Alabama a young boy had traded his Cadillac in for some cash and went back to finish high school. He didn't know what had made him change his mind about school. Maybe it had been that killer head-ace that he had had when he had come too in that car-lot. He was rather looking forward to school again, forward to an ordinary life. His mother was certainly relieved that her son seemed to have come to his senses. When Michael had been recovering, Kitt had gone back. Back to Ben & Bill's just to make sure. He had not gone inside, but had stayed outside and scanned the interior of the lot. He had also made a phone call to Bill himself pretending to be someone restoring an old '85 Plymouth Fury and was looking for bargain parts. Bill had said he was sorry. That he had had one Fury up 'till awhile ago, but there hadn't been anything salvageable in it when he had last looked and he had put it through the lot's car crasher. Kitt had kindly thanked him and driven back to the Foundation. He had a secret, but telling would hurt people more then keeping that night locked safely away in his backup memory. Maybe someday he could bring himself so at ease with that matter so he could delete those files. Now he was just looking forward to another assignment. Something LESS Halloween.