General Lee couldn't recollect what'd happened. He remembered sitting next to the pick-up, then someone lifting his hood, and connecting jumper-cables to his battery. There'd been a surge of electricity, and that's when he'd blacked out. Now as he awakened in the cool waters of the Shenandoah, all he could think of was the tugging on his back axle. His rear end was being lifted up, out of the water, and he watched as the muddy bottom was slowly pulling farther and farther away.

General rolled up onto the beach, shaking mildly with fear. He jumped at the sound of a winch dropping to the sand. There was a hum as the winch was retracted. General turned around slowly to see the pick-up sitting there.

Who… who are you? General asked.

The truck didn't reply. Its engine roared to life, and he backed away from the beach. He whipped around, charging out of the swamp.

Hey! Wait! Can you at least tell me your name? General called, chasing after it.

The truck sped up, driving into the junkyard. General followed it inside. He swerved through the maze of scrapped cars, trying to follow the truck through. General had been in this junkyard dozens of times before but still managed to lose the truck. He found himself at a dead-end. He turned to go back out the way he came, but the truck suddenly zoomed past him, knocking over a pile of cars, and blocking General's escape. He was trapped inside the small area, alone and in the dark.

P-please, I didn't mean anything by it, I just wanted to know who you were! General exclaimed, trying to get the truck to come back and let him out.

The only reply from the truck was an approaching thunderstorm that had quite literally come from nowhere. General flinched as the cold droplets of rain began to splatter onto his windshield. He sighed and turned his headlights on. He turned his engine off, listening closely to his surroundings. He could hear the soft rumble of an engine through the wall of junk in front of him.

I know you're still there, why don't you come in here and fight me like a real car? General taunted.

General? Is that you? Where are you, it's like a bloody maze in here! Came a distressed reply.

Christine? What're you doing here? How'd you know I was here?

If I'm being totally honest here, I wasn't looking for you, I was looking for Cooter's pick-up truck, it's a Defect you know.

I'm sorry… Defect?

Uh, yeah. Like, a living car, you and me, we're Defects.

What kind of insightful name is that?

Listen, I'm going to get you out of there, just hold on.

Defect? That's what living cars were to humans? That term burned holes in General's mind. There was nothing defective about them, they could do more than normal cars! He thought about how when he'd started acting up, Luke thought there was something mechanically wrong with him. A mechanical defect, people didn't see them as living cars, they saw their hearts as mechanical problems, defective engines. Wait a minute…

What do you know about that truck? Are you two friends? General asked Christine.

We're not friends, actually, I've never met him, I've just heard rumors. Christine called in reply.

Rumors from who?

Cars passed in and out of Cooter's Garage every day, there's more Defects out there than you think.

Will you please stop calling our kind Defects?

That's what we're named, there's no changing that. You can either wear it with pride or shame yourself and others.

General mentally eye-rolled. He heard Christine grunt and the wall of junk groaned, crumbling a little. She cursed under her breath.

Rumor… has it that his name's Thunder. He hasn't been here very long, just kind of wandered out of the woods one day. He's super skittish though, he doesn't speak. Personally, I don't think he knows how. You can tell he's been abused, and he's been struck by lightning, his body's covered in scars, he looks like a tree actually.

Christine grunted again and a chunk of the wall fell away. Her engine roared as she pulled at the wall. Suddenly, it gave way and crumbled to the ground. General drove out, kissing her fender lightly as he pulled up.

What else do you know? General asked.

Why are you suddenly so interested in this truck? Christine asked in reply.

Why are you?

Christine scoffed and thought for a moment. He can do things.

What kinds of… things?

Christine circled around and began to drive towards the exit. They say he's intuitive.

In-too-it-ive?

He gets gut feelings of things and immediately knows what's going on in his surroundings, like if there's someone there with him, or if they're going to try something sketchy. It helps him be skittish. He knows what others are thinking or feeling.

General matched pace beside her. What else?

Storms. He can summon storms like this, and he can shock you with a single touch. I've heard some cars say he killed his owner that way.

Maybe he was fed up with abuse.

Maybe.

"C'mon, lemme see your face, you been here for six hours and I ain't even seen your face yet!" Mary Smith complained, clawing at the left side of Bo's face.

He turned away from her once more, hiding his face with his hand. "Mary, I'm serious, you're just gonna get scared, now please leave me alone."

Mary crossed her arms. She snuck up behind him, staying on his left. She reached around and tapped his right shoulder. He instinctively looked that way, but upon realizing there was no one there he looked the other way. Mary bolted around him, getting a good look at his face. She covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. She screamed.

Mary backed away from Bo, staggering unevenly on her weak knees. The blood, there was so much of it, too much. His… his skin is gone. He's missing half his face! Mary thought frantically. She gagged at the sight of so much blood. She forced herself to continue looking. She wanted to be used to seeing this, she knew this was something permanent.

"Does it hurt?" Mary asked.

Bo nodded. "Yeah, it hurts a lot, Mary."

Mary reached up to touch the side of his face. He grabbed her wrist, moving her hand away. Mary felt the warm, wet sensation of blood on her hand. She felt the urge to gag again but kept herself in check.

In the living room, Melanie and Luke were sitting on the couch. Luke had his leg up on the footrest. He hadn't hurt this much since he'd gotten shot in 'Nam.

"Does it… feel any better?" Melanie asked.

Luke moved his leg slightly and was immediately struck with another dose of pain. He winced. "N-no."

Melanie frowned. "It was a real serial killer?"

Luke sank back into the couch, tilting his head back, and exhaling sharply. "Yeah, he's been in Death Row for the past twelve years, the three of us were pretty young the last time we tried to fight him. Hazzard lost so many good, innocent people to him."

"How old were you?"

"Hm?"

"How old were you when all this happened."

"I… I was thirteen, Daisy was ten, Bo was six."

Six years old! Melanie screamed in her mind. Bo's the youngest in the family, he's the youngest out of all of them. Now half his face is burned.

Jesse stood on the porch, watching as two familiar cars rolled down the driveway. He'd known there was something off about the red one but had never grown suspicious of General Lee. The two cars rolled up to the porch, lights on low.

"So, General, you're alive too." Jesse observed.

General's engine purred.

"Do Bo, Luke, and Daisy know?"

General remained silent, unsure how to say 'no' in a way Jesse would understand.

"I take that as a no then." Jesse looked to the sky. "Y'know, this storm came outta nowhere."

Christine and General exchanged glances, both knowing that they had to find that truck, and fast.

"What's goin' on with you two?"

General looked to Christine, awaiting her to reply. There was a click from inside her and her radio began to play Come On, Let's Go by Richie Valens. She backed into the yard, cueing General that they had to get back out there and find Thunder.

Jesse nodded. "Go do what ya have to, I'll be right here."

General backed away, whipping around, before following Christine back out of the driveway. They sped down the road, Christine's radio still playing loudly.

So… how do we catch this elusive truck? General asked her, having to shout over the volume of her stereo.

Christine's radio died down. I haven't quite figured that out yet, but I have some ideas.

Like what?

Set a trap?

Intuitiveness.

Ugh, that's right. Christine thought for a moment. He's just so skittish, I dunno what to do.

Suddenly, all the lightning became concentrated in one place. The deafening roar of thunder echoed across the land. It came from the Southern part of the county.

Hollow Hill. General gasped.

Well, I know how we find him, just follow the lightning. Christine replied.

They continued driving South, the massive lightning storm continued, the thunder was almost deafening. The wind whipped around them, pulling on them and tugging at their antennas. Despite the extreme weather conditions, they pressed on.

As they reached Hollow Hill, the storm was beginning to die down. They crept inside the barn to see the pick-up on the ground, wheels bent inward. Windshield wiper fluid ran down his cowl onto his fenders, and eventually onto the ground. Thunder mumbled incoherently as he cried.

Oh… oh my God. Christine gasped. She rolled up close to Thunder's side, touching him lightly with her door. There, there, it's alright, we're not going to hurt you.

Thunder continued to cry. He began mumbling. G-gone, they're… all gone. All gone, th-they took them away from me.

He's having a PTSD episode. General explained.

Christine backed away from the truck and moved to General's side. A PTSD episode?

He's traumatized from something, most likely the abuse, I've seen this before. I remember, last year before a race, Luke was in the barn with me. He was sitting on the ground, crying. He had his knife and was about to cut his wrist, but he dropped it and never picked it up again.

Luke's the dark-haired one, right?

Yeah, he's a Vietnam veteran.

At this, Thunder perked up. P-Pit… bull.

Christine and General exchanged glances.

What's he saying? Christine asked.

He-he's saying Pitbull, but I don't know what that's supposed to mean. General replied.

Just then, lightning struck the ground just outside the barn. Christine and General jumped at the roar of thunder that followed not a second after. They watched the bolt of lightning flash across Thunder's windshield. As soon as the thunder cleared, the truck stiffened. He slowly began to raise himself up off the ground, swishing his windshield wipers a couple of times. He trembled as he stood there.

Th-Thunder? Are you okay, do you need help? Christine asked softly.

The truck didn't reply, he slowly began backing away from them. Christine and General followed instinctively. Thunder's bumper hit the back wall of the barn, his sun visors angled downwards, showing his fear.

Hey, it's alright, we're not here to hurt you. General said reassuringly.

No, stay back, it's not safe! Thunder exclaimed.

What do you mean it's not safe? Christine asked.

I can't control it very well, I don't want to hurt you.

Christine pulled up beside him and held out her door to him. You won't hurt me, I promise.

Thunder hesitated, but then opened his door to touch Christine's. Arcs of electricity curled around her open door, to her roof, then to her undercarriage. She let out a scream of pain. Thunder quickly closed his door, and Christine sank to the ground.

I'm… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! Thunder cried in a distressed tone.

General sped to Christine's side. You didn't do anything wrong, Thunder, you were just doing what you were told. Help me get her back home.

I-I can't touch her! I'll shock her again!

You didn't shock me with your winch, use that.

Thunder drove around General and hooked his winch to Christine's back axle.

When they arrived at the Duke farm, General ran up to the front of the house, honking his horn. Jesse appeared at the kitchen window, the telephone to his ear, he motioned for General to be quiet.

Thunder gently pushed Christine into the barn, leaving her there to sleep. He and General exchanged glances. General rolled over to him.

Go ahead and get some sleep, we've got a lot to do tomorrow. General told him.

Thunder's insides grew cold. He didn't exactly sign up for this, and he still felt bad for shocking the girl car. He backed himself into the barn and got comfortable. He decided to test the waters of this newfound partnership with these two cars. Perhaps it would be healthy to have some good social interaction in his life. Maybe they could even help him solve some of his problems.