General Lee, Christine, and Thunder navigated the junkyard. It was dark and General noticed that Thunder had been acting weird. Weirder than usual at least. The truck had so many insecurities, he was paranoid, jumpy, and oh so terribly awkward. Thunder was impossible to talk to, he either gave simple, one-word answers or a poor explanation. General was beginning to lose his patience for him but knew that he was a valuable asset to their cause. He knew, deep down, that things would get better, they had to.
So, remind me again who we're looking for. General rumbled.
An old friend of mine from California. His name is Striped Tomato, but I like to call him Stripes just to make him mad. Christine explained.
Would your friend happen to be a bright red, 1976 Ford Gran Torino? Thunder asked.
Yes, he would, why?
Thunder pointed a windshield wiper to a stack of cars, a '76 Gran Torino sitting on the top of it. The headlights were on, and its tires were missing. Rust lined its bumpers and a broken, red strobe light sat on its roof on the passenger side.
Oh no. General groaned.
Come on, let's get him down. Christine rumbled, ignoring General's protest.
She disappeared farther into the junkyard, Thunder followed her. General continued to stare at the car.
General, come on! Christine hissed.
General jumped as if he'd been awakened from a trance. Uh, yeah, yeah, coming. He rushed off to meet with the others. He found Christine situating jumper cables onto Thunder's grill.
What're you doing? General asked.
We're going to use Thunder's powers to make a giant electromagnet. Christine explained.
How do you know that'll work?
I don't, but that's the fun of it. Alright, Thunder, give it a strong pulse.
General and Christine watched as the jumper cables sparked, and there was a loud groan within the junkyard.
Give it some more. Christine instructed.
Thunder did as he was told, and the groan got louder. Small tinks began to echo around their small clearing. The pile of cars before them began to lean, the Gran Torino started to slide closer to the ground.
General heard Thunder make a noise, almost as if he were choking back a sob. He realized that Thunder was pushing the limits of his powers, he couldn't keep this up for much longer.
The Gran Torino began to lay on its horn in fear. It flashed its lights, revving its engine.
Christine, Thunder can't keep it up for much longer, the car's going to fall! General exclaimed.
Christine looked from General to Thunder, then to the Gran Torino. We'll catch him.
She drove up to the pile, General followed her hesitantly.
Hey Stripes! Welcome back to the living world, my friend! Christine called out.
To General's surprise, a raspy answer came.
I never left it! And how many times have I told you to quit calling me Stripes? The Striped Tomato called back.
Two-hundred and ninety-eight to be exact. Christine replied matter-of-factly.
Leave it to you to know that!
Old flare of yours? General asked.
Nah, but me and Stripes here go way back, we're just friends. Our history's over a mile long. Christine explained.
Like your criminal record? Stripes taunted.
Christine's expression changed. Shut up, Stripes, we'll talk about it later.
Wait, what's he talking about? General asked.
It's nothing.
Just then, Stripes fell from the pile, landing a few feet in front of General and Christine.
Well, so much for catching him. Christine remarked.
General looked towards Thunder, who was now on the ground, completely winded. General mentally apologized to him, hoping that Thunder's intuitive abilities allowed him to know what he was thinking and feeling and that he truly was sorry.
What're you doing here, Chrissy? This is no place for a gem like you, especially not with him. Stripes gestured to General.
Excuse me? General growled.
What're you going to do about it, clown car? Blow me up a balloon animal to try and scare me off?
Oh, look who's talking, it's the overly glorified tomato. Is it a fruit or a vegetable, who knows? Looks to me like it's an incapacitated vegetable.
Oooooooooooooo, apply cold water to burned area. Christine cringed.
Stripes revved his engine. I can still kill you from here!
General scoffed. I'd like to see you try, ketchup.
Stripes growled maliciously.
Alright, you two, that's enough. Christine chimed in, driving in between them. You're going to have to get along whether you like it or not.
Just make sure beet juice here stays out of my way, and we'll be good. General ordered, before stalking off towards Thunder.
Christine turned to Stripes. What is wrong with you?
I'm sorry. Stripes protested.
You're sorry? What if he found out? It'd be over between us. Look, I know you're jealous, but I like General, okay. What we had before, that's over. I've been lying to him about a lot of things. What he doesn't know can't hurt him, so get this through that thick hood of yours: We were never together, and I never killed anyone.
Okay, Chrissy, I just-
No, there's no 'Chrissy' anymore, alright, that's done. Do not get between me and General, do you understand?
Yeah, but-
Do-you-un-der-stand?
I understand.
Good.
General, Stripes, Christine, and Thunder made their way West towards Hollow Hill. Stripes growled in discomfort the whole way, displeased with his set of borrowed, worn-out tires.
General knew that if they were going to pull this off, they were going to need the help of one of the most devious cars out there, Trigger. As far as Thunder's instincts led on, Trigger was held up at Hollow Hill, the place where it all began.
General still remembered seeing Trigger for the first time. The burning, white hate that he had for that car was almost unbearable. That was back when he preferred to be unalive because he thought there was no one out there like him until Trigger insulted him right to his face.
Pathetic piece of junk, relying on humans to drive you around, wake up. If I ever get ahold of you, the first thing I'll do is tear off that God-ugly orange paint. Trigger had rumbled.
General had been taken aback by this, not only because he'd insulted him, but that he was alive as well.
Now, General scoffed. That car must've really thought he was something. With his gold details, snowflake rims, T-top, and firebird. In reality, he was just like the rest of them, with the exception of Thunder. He'd had no right to talk to General that way, especially after General had freed him from those wretched men.
As the four of them pulled into the yard, bright headlights shone through the barn door. A fierce engine rumbled, turning into a menacing growl.
Get out, I want nothing to do with you four, especially you. Trigger growled, gesturing to General with his hood.
You've no reason to be mad at him. I understand that you don't trust anybody, but sitting in this barn to rust for the rest of your life won't prove anything. Thunder butted in.
General, Stripes, and Christine each backed up a little. Thunder had never acted like this before.
What do you know? Trigger snarled.
More than you. For one thing, I know you never wanted to hurt anybody. You knew that General didn't deserve to go down the ravine, yet you complied for fear of what was to be done with you if you disobeyed. I know what it's like, I've been there. Taking your anger out on others won't fix anything. Thunder explained.
What good am I to you anyway? I'm a small car, I can't do much.
You don't break, that's good enough.
Trigger shook himself slowly. I do break, the only thing is, I can fix myself.
So can I. Please, Trigger, no one can help you if you stay closed off like this. Christine argued.
That's not the point.
Then what is? Thunder growled, becoming impatient.
Trigger backed into the barn, cutting off his headlights so that he was invisible to the others. I wanted General to be afraid of me because I was afraid of him. I knew I was wrong by pushing you down that ravine, and I was scared that you were going to come after me. So, I had to ensure my safety by making sure that you thought I was going to hurt you if you ever tried anything. Trigger sighed. There, I said it, happy?
It's a start, we'll work on it. I'm not mad, Trigger, I just need your help. We could still be good friends if you like, I don't hold anything against you. General remarked.
Trigger poked his front end out. You mean it?
Of course, I mean it, I'm not the kind of car to lie, you know.
I… guess it won't take long for you to earn my trust, will it?
Not if you let us help you. Trust me, you won't regret this.
Trigger looked from each of them, then back to General. Sure, he had a lot of trust issues, but it seemed like the weird truck knew a little something about that, though.
Alright, I'm in. Trigger beamed.
The five cars made their way back to town. By now, the sun was beginning to rise. They stopped at the deserted Cooter's Garage to regroup and change Stripes' tires. As they were doing so, a little white car rolled up.
H-hello, excuse me. The car hummed.
Trigger turned, growling at him. Beat it, kid, can't you see we're working here?
The little car raised one sunvisor. I'm older than you.
Don't make no difference. Now, you heard me the first time, so scram!
The little car didn't move, Trigger fumed.
General Lee pushed Trigger out of the way. You'll have to excuse him, he's all bark and no bite, trust me.
Oh, that's quite alright, I wasn't scared. The little car replied.
Who might you be?
My name's Herbie, it's a pleasure to meet you.
Herbie held out a door to General.
Ah, sorry… my doors are welded. General explained.
Oh, no worries. I take it you're a race car then. I am too, believe it or not. Herbie replied.
Stripes scoffed. You? A little Bug a race car? You must be joking!
I'm not joking, it's true. I've won many races over the years.
Trigger looked Herbie up and down. Prove it. Your engine against mine.
Very well.
Herbie drove into the middle of the street, followed by Trigger. The two of them lined up side by side. The other four drew close, curious as to what was going to happen.
On your mark, Bug. Trigger rumbled.
Herbie beeped his horn, and they both took off. The moment they did, Herbie popped a wheelie, speeding far ahead of Trigger. The rest of the cars followed at a distance.
Herbie dropped back down to all four wheels, swerving around the gazebo in the town square. He sped up, disappearing from sight. Trigger skidded, drifting around the gazebo and coming out on the other side.
Where'd the little twerp go? Trigger asked.
The cars exchanged glances, looking around for the little white car.
Just then, Herbie rolled in between General and Christine. Hi guys.
The two of them jumped.
Jesus! Christine exclaimed.
How? General rumbled.
I told you, I'm very fast. Herbie explained.
But that's impossible, you're a Bug, I'm a Trans Am. There ain't no way you beat me just now. Trigger argued.
Oh, but I did.
Trigger cussed under his breath.
Alright, 'Herbie', what gives? You come up here, accept a challenge from the fastest car, what're you trying to prove? General asked.
Simple, I wish to join your cause. I heard from some humans that something was going down in a small town called Hazzard so I decided to drop by during my stay in Georgia and see what was going on. Upon seeing the buildings full of bullet holes and windows boarded up, I feared the worst. So, naturally, I started looking for some Defects to walk me through the situation, that's when I found you five. Herbie explained.
Tch, how do we even know we can trust you? Trigger questioned.
Only one way to find out-Thunder. General explained.
At that, the quiet pick-up rolled up to Herbie. The two of them sat for a moment, Thunder staring intently at him. Then, Thunder turned to the others.
We can trust him. The pick-up announced.
Christine drove around to Herbie's right side, bumping him with her door. Welcome to the team, Herbie!
Come to think of it, you look awfully familiar. Have you ever been to California? Stripes asked.
Of course, I've spent much of my time traveling the country lately, but home is in San Francisco. Herbie replied.
I'm from Rockbridge! Christine exclaimed.
Bay City. Stripes chimed in, raising his hood slightly.
So what, do y'all know each other or something? General asked.
No, just me and Stripes. California's a big state, it's not like a small town where everybody knows everybody else. Christine explained.
How big? Like, a hundred times the size of Hazzard?
No, more like a hundred thousand times the size of Hazzard.
Whoa.
Trigger departed from the conversation, finding that Thunder had wandered off. He drove around, turning his headlights on. Upon finding him atop the hill that overlooked the town, nose pointed to the South, he wondered if the truck had sensed trouble.
Danger? Trigger guessed.
I don't know yet. I'm going to try and feel around, see if I can pinpoint a location. Thunder replied.
How do you do that?
Storm.
Trigger watched as dark clouds began to gather in the sky, coming from all directions. Lightning flashed, and thunder rolled. Raindrops began to fall from the clouds. All around the county, individual bolts of lighting struck in multiple places, each of them just nanoseconds apart.
You get anything? Trigger asked.
Shhh. Thunder hissed.
Trigger stayed silent, watching Thunder work. Within a few moments, the storm died down, and Thunder sank a little.
This is all my fault. He rumbled.
What're you talking about? Tigger asked him.
I left the youngest Duke thinking that Christine was calling me because of an emergency. How could I be so stupid? I should've never trusted that one of those slimy cottonmouths wouldn't find him on their turf.
It's alright, Thunder, you didn't do anything wrong.
Would everyone quit saying that? I know right from wrong, I know what kinds of decisions are bad, and which ones are good. Alright, I messed up, I did something wrong, and I need to fix it.
But you don't have to fix it alone.
General would kill me if he found out. I have to do this alone or risk losing his trust.
Who said he had to know. I'll go with you, it'll just be you and me.
Thunder sighed. So be it, but no one else, got it?
Of course.