Title:
Running
Series: Snapshots
from 'Junkyard Dog' No.2
Author: Gumnut
Fandom:
Knight Rider
Characters: Michael
Challenge: Elfin challenged me
I guess
Rating: PG
Summary: Kitt!
Word count: 556
Spoilers
& warnings: Season 3
Disclaimer: Mine? You gotta be kidding.
Money? Don't have any, don't bother.
Author's notes: Most of this
is directly off the episode of Junkyard Dog. Be patient and I will
come up with more stuff, I promise :D
Running
Snapshots
from 'Junkyard Dog' No. 3
By Gumnut
1 Jan 2007
"Hey! You! What do you think you're doing in here?"
Michael started, almost dropping the file in his hands, but it only took him a second to realise that the voice wasn't interested in him at all, but in someone else. He made it to the window of the office, only to discover that any hope of a quiet in and out operation had just been flushed down the toilet. Fran, camera in hand, was struggling with guard.
Damn.
"Kitt, we've got problems. Get in here!"
At Kitt's affirmative, he threw the window up and clambered through. More voices yelled in surprise as the alarm was raised. The sound of tyres spinning in the dirt and crippled chainlink fencing followed Michael across the compound and he grabbed the woman's attacker just as she managed to bite her way out of his grasp. Michael made sure he diverted his attention.
The guy spun around and fought back, but the FLAG operative ducked, pivoting on one foot before throwing the definitive punch, knocking the guy out cold.
But another guard grabbed him from behind, shoving him into a stack of metal barrels. His head connected with something hard and he saw stars. Flailing at the guy blindly for a moment, he took one in the stomach for his efforts, but his head steadied enough for him to get in one of his own and his assailant fell to one side, giving Michael the opportunity to regain his feet. He made sure he didn't lose them again, the guard joining his partner in the dust.
"Michael!"
He looked up, getting his bearings, to find the Trans Am suspended above the waste pit in the claws of some junkyard nightmare. Wha-? Oh god. "Kitt!"
He didn't think, he ran.
"Michael! Help me!"
He headed in the direction of the tractor, intending to take out the driver, but he was too late. The behemoth let the car go and Kitt fell into the mire. Oh god.
"Michael! Help me!"
The putrid stinking mess crawled up the sides of he car as Michael staggered to a halt at the edge of the pit. "Kitt!' He couldn't reach him. The fumes stung his eyes as his fingers brushed against the surface of the chemical, the sizzle of dissolving gloves and the pain of burning nerve endings halting his headlong dive. "I can't, buddy, I can't." His mind clambered for possible solutions and came up completely blank. Kitt was fast disappearing under the surface. He couldn't do a damn thing!
"Michael!"
And then there was barking and yelling and Fran was pulling on his arm. Oh god, Kitt.
"We've got to get going!"
God, he had to go. "I'll be back. I'll be back."
But he couldn't leave Kitt behind! He struggled with Fran, who continued to pull on his arm. "C'mon! C'mon!" The junkyard filled with more voices, more lights flickered on and the barking closed on their position.
He had to go.
Kitt!
The AI's voice was garbled, still calling his name.
He had to go! "I'll be back. I'll be back."
Bonnie. Devon. Michael couldn't do anything, but they could. And it was that thought that grabbed him and held him up as Kitt cried out his name once more before being swallowed beneath the surface.
Michael Knight turned and ran.
-o-o-o-
