Knight of the Blackout

by vega2

The energy crisis has become reality. Trapped in a city ruled by the gangs Michael must find a way to escape..

Knight Rider characters: Copyright Glen A. Larson & Universal Studios

The Lion Sleeps Tonight: Copyright The Tokens 1961

KNIGHT OF THE BLACKOUT

Chapter one

By Vega

Michael Knight sat on the hood of his customized Trans Am and looked at the city below. San Francisco, with its two famous bridges and it's towering buildings rebuilt after the devastating earthquake of 1906. It had become the epitome of the old and new. Old cable cars running on tracks built at the turn the century slowly traveling past state of the art skyscrapers daring Mother Nature to do it's best to destroy them.

But in the end it wasn't Mother Nature that was their downfall, but man. As night approached and darkness fell over the city the skyscrapers remained dark. The bridges, once adorned with strings of twinkling lights stood like dark ghosts of themselves in the Bay waters.

It had started here, four years ago. California was the first state to experience the energy crisis. First it was rolling blackouts then days without power. Then it spread, like a malignant tumor, until it had drained all the states of all their power. Now what reserves were left were allocated to emergency services: hospitals, police and fire stations.

One of the greatest nations in the world was forced to its knees, not by an intruding army, but by greed: the need to always have more.

And as the rest of the world watched and waited, they knew that they too could, and probably would be, next.

Michael slid off the comfortable hood and dropped into the custom bucket seat.

"Anything?" He asked, looking at K.I.T.T.'s monitor.

"Nothing so far Michael."

"It's been three nights. They've got to show sometime."

With the darkness came the gangs and the crime and the looting. Territories were set up. Demarcation lines were raised. And those unlucky enough to be caught in those areas were left to fend for themselves, the police too understaffed and too scared to venture into those so called * No Man's Land. *

Two weeks ago the Foundation had received an urgent request for help. While it was but a shadow of what it once was the Foundation still existed and Michael still did what he could to help those in need.

But with the mail service curtailed to deliveries once a month and exorbitant prices for stamps it had taken the letter requesting help two months to reach them.

It was a poignant plea for help. A young mother of three children caught in the web of gang warfare. She was afraid to leave her house, to let her children play in their backyards, even during the light of day. She was a prisoner in her own home and she was afraid for her children. She had relatives in the mid west that would welcome her with open arms but she couldn't get out. The gangs owned the territories and the people who resided in them. She was as much a prisoner there as if she had been incarcerated in a prisoner camp. Michael couldn't get the last sentence of the letter out of his mind: "My children deserve better than this."

"All right. We're getting nowhere here. I guess it's time to introduce myself."

He had hoped to get a glimpse of her, to meet her somewhere else beside her house. He wanted to draw as little attention as he could to her and her family. But she never showed and he was running out of time.

"How? There's not exactly a plethora of automobiles down there. We're going to stick out like a sore thumb."

"I know Pal. So, I go in on foot."

"Do you think that's a wise idea Michael?"

It probably wasn't wise, Michael thought, but it seemed the only way. He looked down on the city streets below and didn't see one set of headlights in a one mile radius. No emergency vehicles, nothing. No, he couldn't bring K.I.T.T. into town, not yet.

"You got a better plan?"

"Not at the moment."

"Well, when you do tell me. I'm open to suggestions."

He shifted into a more comfortable driving position. "Get me in as close as you can, no lights, silent mode."

The car's engine ignited and silently the black Trans Am started down the winding street toward the city below.

K.I.T.T. dropped him off six blocks from Julie Hanover's house. Cold damp fog rolled in off the ocean blanketing the city. Michael zipped up his heavy black leather jacket and headed toward Bethel Street. At every corner men stood around metal trash cans filled with anything that could burn. He could feel the heat as he passed by. He could also feel their eyes following him. By the second block he knew he had picked up a tail. Friend or foe, he couldn't lead them to Julie's house. He dipped into the deeper shadows of a storefront and waited.

Two men walked by. He knew it wouldn't be long before they realized they had lost him and doubled back. He continued on, hugging the storefronts until they ended and the houses started.

"How much further K.I.T.T.?" He whispered into his comlink.

"Two blocks." Came the whispered reply.

He nodded. He could hear his footsteps echoing in the swirling fog. He felt like he was in the middle of some strange nightmare. All the houses were dark except for the glow of candlelight from inside. One feeble streetlight burned at every third corner, eerily consumed by the thick fog. A dog barked here and there as he walked along the sidewalk. He now found himself walking up a steep hill. Steps were cut into the sidewalk to make it easier to climb.

"Michael, you are two doors away."

"Thanks Pal."

131 Bethel Street. From what Michael could see in the darkness, the house was a modest two-story Victorian style, prevalent in the older sections of the city. It stood three doors from the corner and two blocks away from the nearest streetlight.

He started up the steps leading to the small porch. "Anyone in the house?" He asked K.I.T.T.

"Three people Michael. An adult a young child and an infant."

Michael rapped gently on the front door. He heard a scurry of footsteps from inside then a woman's frightened voice. "Go away. I have a gun.. I'll use it if I have to."

Michael instinctively stepped away from the door. "Mrs. Hanover, my name is Michael Knight. I'm here from the Foundation For Law and Government. You sent us a letter asking for help." He waited. He could see the flickering of the candle light through the ornate beveled glass in the door.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" She called from behind the door.

"How many other people knew about the letter?" he asked.

There was a long pause and the door lock was unbolted and the door slowly opened. A woman in her early thirties peeked out. A single candle burning in a hurricane lamp illuminated her face. She looked terrified.

"I'm here to get you out of here." He said softly.

Behind him on the sidewalk below a group of men gathered silently, watching.

The woman grabbed his jacket sleeve and pulled him inside. "I'm sorry. I should never have written that letter. Now I've put you in danger too."

Michael followed Julie down the hallway. The hurricane lamp cast flickering shadows of themselves on the walls as they emerged into a small kitchen where a boy of nine or ten sat at the table hovering over what appeared to be an English textbook. He wore a heavy black faded sweater with a Dragon Ball Z cartoon character on the front, a memory of a time when there was still TV and cartoon shows to watch. He looked up at Michael wide eyed.

"It's all right Tony," Julie soothed, gently combing his brown hair with her fingertips. "He's a friend. He's going to help us get to Uncle Terry's house in Ohio."

"Tommy too?"

She nodded, "Tommy too. Now, why don't you get ready for bed, remember it's math time tomorrow morning."

"Ah Ma.." Tony slid off the table, grabbed a candle lantern and headed for the stairs. "It's not fair," he grumbled as he walked up the steps, "none of the other kids have to do schoolwork."

"I heard that Tony." She grinned, "You'll thank me some day when you're President of the United States."

She quickly closed the book and set it on the counter top next to the sink. "Tony is going to grow up to be something." She said defiantly, "in spite of all this. Have a seat."

As he sat down he looked around the kitchen. Candles flickered in every corner. Dishes sat in the sink, steam rising into the cool air. A small refrigerator hummed faintly near the unused stove. A sheet of plywood sat atop the burners where clay pots of flowers and herbs flourished near the kitchen window.

"We are allowed just enough electricity each day to run one appliance for four hours," she explained after she noticed him looking at the refrigerator. "I guess it depends on your lifestyle and your needs what appliances you choose. With three children that was my choice. I open it for one minute three times day." She set two coffee mugs on the table and a large thermos. "I make my meals on the camp stove on the porch." She said as she poured the coffee. "I make one pot of coffee to last the day. It's not bad, considering."

"It's very good." Michael said sipping the hot liquid.

"I cook three meals a day out there," she continued, as if talking would postpone the inevitable: telling him about her oldest son Tommy. She held the warm mug in her hands, enjoying the warmth. Without heat the house felt cold and damp. In the flickering light from the candles Michael could see what stress and hardship had done to a once beautiful woman. Her shoulder length brown hair was pulled back off her face accentuating her high cheekbones and full lips. But the one thing that stood out most was the sadness in her eyes. "At lunch I boil enough water to do the laundry and at night I boil enough water to do the dishes. But it's becoming more difficult. Supplies are dwindling at the stores. The gangs have all but shutdown the city. The few supply houses that still deliver to local stores are afraid to enter. We are being cut off from everything. That's why I have to get to my to relatives in Ohio. They have power problems too, but there are no gangs, no violence like here. I don't want to raise my children like this."

Michael laid his hand gently over her trembling hand. "You won't have to." He promised. "I'll get you and your family out of here."

"Thank you." She said, "But…." Tears began to well up in her eyes. She wiped them away angrily; she did not want anyone to see her cry. The only way she could survive was to stay strong. "My son Tommy was recruited by the Mustangs three days ago."

"The Mustangs?"

"There are four gangs in the area. The white gang, the Mustangs, fight for territory with the black gang, The Blades, and they fight with the Hispanic gang, The Jefes, they call themselves that because it means Boss in Spanish, it's such a joke, and they all fight the Chinese gang, the Dragons. It's one gigantic turf war going on out there. I knew it was coming. They recruit all the boys once they reach fourteen. It's like a rite of passage to them. I pleaded with Tommy not to go."

"I'll get him back for you. I promise."

Julie nodded, clearing her throat, trying to regain her composure. "It wasn't always like this you know." She poured them another cup of coffee. "At first we thought it was all hype, like all the other dire predictions the government made. But this one turned out to be real. Two hour rolling blackouts turned into twenty-four hour blackouts. Then days at a time. Gangs began to form. Police and fire departments were afraid to enter. This area of the city became known as * No Man's Land*, those with money got out, moved inland or out of California completely. Those of us without money had to stay. But we never thought it would turn out like this."

Suddenly the house shook with the sound of rocks and stones hitting the front walls and voices shouting absentees outside.

"What the hell?" Michael headed for the window.

"They know you're here." Julie said as she joined Michael at the window. "They will keep this up for hours."

Michael looked at the group standing outside the house. At least thirty strong. They appeared to range in age from fourteen to thirty. They stood next to a burning metal trashcan and a wheel barrel filled with rocks and stones, all wearing identical blue headbands. Waves of heavy fog rolled in off the ocean momentarily obscuring them from the house but the bombardment of rocks continued.

Tony walked down the stairs behind them carrying a six month old baby fussing in his arms.

"The noise woke her up." He whimpered.

Julie carefully took the infant from his arms and held Tony close to her side flinching as each stone hit the front of the house. She looked out the window again and gasped.

"Tommy!"

Michael looked over the crowd. He saw at least ten young boys in the group. "Which one is Tommy?"

"He's.. Oh my God, how could he being doing this?"

Michael leaned down so his face was next to hers, "Which one is he Julie?"

She pointed to a dark brown haired boy. "The one wearing the navy pea coat. I gave that to him for his last birthday."

"Listen to me." Michael gently turned her around to face him. "It's the mob mentality. It's not him. He probably doesn't even know what he's doing."

A rock smashed through the kitchen window hitting Tony in the shoulder. He screamed in fear more than pain.

Julie grabbed him pulling him away from the window.

"When is this going to end?" she screamed, "when?"

"Right now." Michael said coldly. "Gather what ever you need for the baby and yourselves for the next few days. I'm getting you out of here tonight."

"What about Tommy?"

"I'll get him later. But we have to get you out of here first. Now go on, hurry."

Michael watched her grab a candle lantern and rush upstairs, Tony at her heels. He looked back out at the mob. They were becoming frenzied. Anything could happen in their state of mind.

"K.I.T.T.," can you read me?" He called into the comlink. He hoped desperately that he was still in range.

"Yes Michael I read you."

"We're in trouble down here Buddy. I want you to come get me. No lights, silent mode. When you get to the house wait for us."

"Are you injured?"

"No, but that could change if these animals around here get to us."

"I'm sorry Michael, I don't understand."

"Don't worry about it, just get down here. Your E.T.A.?"

"Four minutes."

Michael shouted up the stairs at Julie, "You've got three minutes."

The rocks kept pounding the house. A sizable boulder hit the front door and the ornate beveled glass broke into a million pieces.

Julie rushed down the stairs carrying a pillowcase loaded with baby supplies and Tony carried his schoolbooks.

"All right." Michael said as they stood at the front door. "I've got someone picking us up. But we're going to have to do this fast. You got me?"

Julie nodded.

Michael sat on his haunches in front of Tony. "Do you understand son? Once we get out there, no mater what happens you run as fast as you can to the car that's waiting out there for you and your mom and sister. Can you do that?"

Tony grabbed hold of Julie around the waist.

"He can do it." Julie said, patting Tony on the shoulder.

"I'm in position." K.I.T.T.'s voice came from the comlink.

"We're on our way." He turned to Julie. "No matter what, you get into that car."

Julie covered the baby's head with the blanket and wrapped her arms tightly around her. "I'm ready."

"Then, let's rock and roll."

He lifted Tony into his arms and grabbed the pillowcase.

They stepped out onto the porch the swirling fog billowing around them. Michael could make out the faint outline of K.I.T.T. parked at the curb. The mob was huddled around the light from the burning trashcan. Everywhere else: just swirling blackness in the night. They scurried down the steps. Some one yelled, "There they are!" Rocks and stones came hurling at them. Michael felt them pelting his arms and legs. The mob rushed toward them. They hit the bottom step and K.I.T.T. automatically opened the passenger door. Michael swung Tony down to the ground and the boy leaped into the front seat scrambling into the back. A rock hit Julie in the right arm and she almost dropped the baby. She screamed in terror as the mob descended on them. She reached the car and climbed in. Michael was two feet behind her. He hurled the pillowcase toward her and she caught it throwing it back to Tony. "Slid over." He yelled. She struggled with the baby in her arms to make enough room for him to jump in. He reached out for the door, his fingertips grazing the glass when strong arms caught him by the shoulders pulling him back into the suffocating mob. He desperately tried to claw his way out but they kept dragging him in deeper. He screamed at K.I.T.T. "Get them out of here!" Then he disappeared as the mob closed in around him.

The passenger door slammed shut automatically just as hands began pulling at Julie's sleeves.

"Michael!" She screamed as she saw him disappear into the mob. "We can't leave him here." She yelled at the driver, stunned to see no one behind the wheel.

"We can't help him now." A voice emanated from a speaker beneath the dash.

The car slowly pulled away from the curb carefully pushing through men and boys. One man jumped on the hood his face frozen in a mask of hatred pressed against the windshield.

"We have to go back. We can't leave him there."

"My orders are to get you to safety." The voice said.

Michael tried to fend off the blows that pummeled his body but there were too many of them. He was driven to the ground. He wrapped himself up into a small ball, trying to protect his head as they kicked and punched him into unconsciousness.

Julie watched as the car picked up speed through the dark streets. They climbed up and down hills that she had known all her life, now lifeless. Then turned down Van Ness Ave, once a main artery for the city, now as black as the rest of the city.

K.I.T.T. decided that it was safer to travel without headlights and they looked like a black ghost speeding toward the famed Golden Gate Bridge. They sped through the tollbooths and onto the span through dense fog banks. Devon and Bonnie would be waiting for them at the Marine Headlands. Isolated, even in the best of times, it would serve as a perfect command center until Michael could be rescued.

Julie clutched Amy against her breast and cried softly into the warm blanket. Tony had climbed from the back seat and sat in the drivers seat, scared, but also overwhelmed by the car.

"Where are you taking us?" She asked, her voice quivering.

"To meet friends of Michael's. You will be safe there."

Forty minutes later K.I.T.T. pulled off a long dirt road and parked next to the waiting semi. When the energy crisis first loomed Bonnie quickly changed the semi's engine to a turbine like K.I.T.T.'s, so it wouldn't rely on gasoline to run.

A tall man with white hair and a woman with long brown hair stood waiting beside the truck.

"Julie, you have nothing to fear." K.I.T.T. said softly, "That is Devon Miles, head of FLAG, Michael's boss, and Bonnie, my mechanic. They are here to help you." The door automatically opened and Devon extended a helping hand to Julie.

"Are you alright my dear?" He asked as he helped her out of the car.

Bonnie gently took Amy from her arms cuddling the baby close. She took Tony's hand and led him toward the semi. "Come on," she smiled, "I'll show you where K.I.T.T. lives."

"K.I.T.T.?"

"I see we have a lot to talk about." She disappeared into the truck giving Devon time alone with Julie.

"I should never have written that letter," She chastised herself. "I've only put everyone in danger."

"Please Julie, may I call you Julie?" He waited for her to nod yes. "Michael is a very resourceful young man. He will find a way to get to us. And we will be ready for him. But for now I believe you and your children need rest. Bonnie has prepared beds inside the semi for you."

"And Michael?"

"We wait to here until he contacts us." As Julie climbed into the semi Devon looked out over the black bay. Normally the city would have been alive with lights. The Golden Gate Bridge would have sparkled beneath its orange towers. He shook his head sadly. Michael was out there somewhere in that darkness. He only whished he knew where.

As Michael awoke he realized that there was not an inch of his body that didn't ache. He heard the sounds of whispers and somewhere in a far corner the giggles of a woman. But mostly he heard the sounds of loud snoring all around him.

He carefully pried his eyes open. He was lying on a cold concrete floor. His hands were tied behind him, his ankles strapped with wire. He could only assume his wrists were likewise strapped. He lay there very quietly trying to take a tally of his injuries before he dared to move. His ribs were on fire, several broken, most likely, his left arm was a mass of throbbing pain. There wasn't an inch of skin that didn't feel bruised and he felt the sticky feeling of blood coating his clothes. But more than the exterior injuries he worried more about internal damage. He knew from experience that a body couldn't take a beating like he had just taken without some kind of harm. The best thing he could do for now, he decided was rest and regain his strength before..

Suddenly someone grabbed a handful of hair and threw him against the wall behind him. He gasped in pain and surprise. The impact jarred his teeth and he tasted fresh blood in his mouth.

The snoring stopped and someone shouted, "Look here, our guest has arisen from the grave!"

He blinked trying to make the room stop spinning. Add a concussion to the list he thought. But this new position did afford him a better view.

At first he wasn't sure where he was, then little things started to make sense. Mattresses were strewn all around the massive concrete floor. Blankets and pillows were heaped into little mounds like individual nests. Clothes, ripped and torn littered the floor. Manikins stood in strange poses, knives and arrows jutting from their bodies. Fires burned in barbeques with jerry- rigged chimneys to vent the smoke, sending eerie shadows along the walls and ornate carved ceilings. This had once been a department store. A very expensive one from the looks of the huge murals on the walls now covered with graffiti.

"You gotta name?" The man standing above him was short and balding with a filthy beard. He wore Michael's black leather jacket, two sizes too large. He kicked Michael savagely in the ribs. "I asked you a question." He snarled.

"Michael Knight." Michael gasped. His name would mean nothing to anyone here.

"Michael Knight, huh? My name's Brian Irons. Mr. Irons to you." He leaned down close to Michael's face, his breath smelling of old tobacco and rotten teeth. "What are you doing in my territory? With my woman?"

Michael tensed himself for the blow he knew was coming. Iron's grabbed his hair again and slammed his head into the wall. "No one messes with my property. You understand me?"

Again his head was slammed into the wall. He felt blood trickling down the back of his neck.

"And where in the hell did you get gas for that fancy car of yours?" A shout went up from the crowd of men watching.

"At the Seven Eleven," Michael panted.

Iron stood back laughing. "We've got ourselves a comedian here. Hey Rhonda, you like your men funny. What about this one?"

A tall redhead in her late thirties dressed in tight blue jeans and a blue Casmir sweater, obviously from the stores stock, walked toward him on six inch stiletto heels. "I like them tall dark and handsome," she purred.

"See that Michael? Rhonda likes you. Now you've got two options." He kneeled back down on one knee grabbing Michael's shirt. "You can tell us where your friend in the car took my woman and baby or I can let Rhonda here have her little fling."

Michael looked at the approaching woman, repulsed by her. But he couldn't tell them where Julie and her children were. He could lie, send them on a wild goose chase, buy himself some time… "I told them if we got separated to wait for me at Fisherman's Warf."

Irons looked back at a tall blonde man who shook his head.

"Sorry Michael, wrong answer. That's part of our territory. No one's been there in days." He stood up bowing to Rhonda. "He's all yours for the night my dear." He grinned. "Treat him gently. He may be the last real man you see for a long time." A hoot of cheers echoed through the cavernous building.

Michael squeezed his eyes shut as the woman leaned down next to him, her breath worse than Irons. "We'll have lots of fun." She promised. "But first," She straddled his legs, pulling a switchblade from her back pocket, "Brain wants to know where his lady is."

She pushed a button and the knife flipped open. She moved the blade around in front of his face letting the light from the nearest barbeque glint off the polished steel.

"I told you, at the Warf…" Michael hissed in pain as Rhonda poked the blade into his stomach.

"That was about half an inch." She said, running her fingers through his hair with her free hand. "It's a six inch blade, and we have all night."

"It's not my fault that they…"

"Michael," she scolded, driving the blade another half inch deeper. "We could be having so much fun here." She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek. "So much fun." He tried to turn his face away but she grabbed his chin, squeezing it hard. "You just have to tell me where the bitch and her kid is."

"I told you.." Michael gasped as the blade went deeper.

"A half inch at a time." She reminded him.

"Go to hell." He suggested.

She stared at him then began to laugh hysterically. "You fool," she said through fits of laugher, "Where do you think we are?" She stretched her body over his, her weight digging the wires around his wrists deeper into his skin. She nuzzled her face against his shoulder, never taking the pressure off the knife. "You smell good." She purred. "Not like the other animals around here."

"Hey watch it Rhonda." Someone yelled from behind them. So they did have an audience. As much as the thought repulsed him, Michael had considered using less resistance toward her advances. If he could have caught her off guard…

"Where are they?" she whispered in his ear. "Just tell me."

He remained defiantly quiet. He gasped as she drove the blade another half inch.

"That's two inches. Four more to go. Think about it. Four more inches.." She pressed on the blade for emphasizes making him gasp again. "And you don't even know the bitch. Do you think she'd do this for you?"

He felt something warm trickle down his side.

"Remember, we have all night."

Michael clenched his teeth in silence.

"I don't know whether you're a dumb fool or a misguided hero, either way its gonna get you killed." She drove the blade in another half inch. He grunted, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of hearing him scream. "Where are they?" She pushed another half inch.

His head started spinning. He could feel himself slipping toward unconsciousness. He prayed for the blackness to take him away.

Cold water splashed his face, drenched his shirt. The shock brought him instantly back to full consciousness.

"Where are they?" Her face was just inches away from his, her teeth yellowed and rotting. "You can end this. We could spend the rest of the night together, comfortable in each other's arms. I could make it a night you'll never forget."

"I'd rather be dead." He coughed as the blade drove deeper. He couldn't take much more. His belly felt like it was on fire. He suddenly thought about K.I.T.T. Was he close enough to read his vitals? "No.." He moaned to himself. If K.I.T.T. was still in contact would he be able to keep control? Rhonda leaned on the blade. It slowly sank deeper. He felt himself starting to pass out again. More water drenched his face, dragging him back. Again the blade went deeper.

"Five inches Michael." Rhonda purred in his ear. "Is she still worth it?" She pushed another half inch…

Suddenly something heavy clanged to the floor towards the front of the building, echoing eerily through the store. Everyone froze, listened, and waited. Nothing. Irons grabbed a baseball bat and ran toward the noise. Everyone else picked up a weapon and followed. Rhonda looked up just in time to see a two by four slam into her head. She fell lifelessly to the floor next to Michael.

Hands pushed him on his side and he cried out in pain. He felt the wire loosen around his wrists. The same hands rolled him back on his back. He looked up into the face he had seen staring at the kitchen window at Julie's house. "Tommy.." He gasped.

Tommy put his fingers to his lips for silence. He cut the wire around Michael's ankles and hefted him off the ground dragging him toward the back of the store. He knew exactly where he was going. Without the feeble light from the barbeques there was complete blackness. He found the back door he had scouted for earlier and lifted the pad lock off the lock he had broken earlier that night.

The bitter damp fog was like a slap in the face and Michael was instantly alert. He tried to gather his feet under him but Tommy just kept dragging him.

It seemed like hours, but in reality it was only minutes before Tommy found the old wooden crate where a hole in the wall led to a dirt basement. He crawled in pulling Michael in behind him. He kept on dragging him, deeper into the complete blackness. He foraged around on his hands and knees until he found what he wanted, a candle and matches hidden where he had left them. He struck the match and the candle revealed a four foot high dirt room. Food and clothing were neatly stacked in the far corner. He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Michael's shivering shoulders.

"Where are we?" Michael whispered.

"My place." Tommy said with pride. "Only me and my girl know about it. I made sure the Mustangs didn't know about it. We'll be safe here for a little while."

Michael looked down at the knife still protruding from his stomach. Rhonda had succeeded in nearly driving it all the way down to the hilt. He knew he couldn't leave it in, it hurt too badly, but by taking it out he risked bleeding to death.

Tommy was at his side with towels and bandages. "That blade needs to come out." He said. But before Michael could respond Tommy slid the knife out and packed the wound with compresses and tied them in place with Michael's own belt. "Lie still," he ordered, "you have to give that wound time to heal."

Michael looked down at the dressing. "A good job."

"You learn a lot on the streets. I saw you helping my Mom and the kids."

"I saw you too." Michael said, his voice becoming slurred. He wouldn't be able to stay awake much longer. His body had been stressed to its limit and his mind wanted to shut down. "Why…" He couldn't remember the rest of the question. It really didn't seem to matter anymore. He felt Tommy wrapping a second warm blanket around him.

"You rest first. We've got plenty of time to talk." He watched Michael's eyes slide shut and his breathing slow. For now, the thing he needed most was rest. He gathered a blanket around himself and blew out the candle sending the basement into total darkness. But he felt safe here. For a while a least.

CHAPTER TWO

Michael awoke slowly. The pain in his stomach was almost unbearable. He pried his eyes open to see Tommy sitting crossed legged in front of him, watching.

"Here, take these, they'll take away the pain a little." Tommy dropped two pills in Michael's shaking hand and poured water from a canteen into a small cup.

"What are they?"

"Pain pills. They may knock you out for a while but that's ok because we've got to lay low here for a few days anyway. Irons and his men will be all over the place looking for you."

Michael swallowed the pills savoring the cold water. He felt feverish, the first signs of infection.

"You seem to have a little bit of everything here." Michael noticed the piles of clothes and canned foods in the corner. The room itself was long and narrow, disappearing in the darkness behind him. The dirt floor was cold and damp. Tommy had three candles lit, each with a mirrored tile behind it to reflect the light. "You've been here for awhile."

Tommy nodded. "We found this place three years ago. There used to be an old Catholic Church above. The story goes that one of the Friars used this as his wine cellar. No one else knows about it except Frannie."

"Your girlfriend."

"She got scared when I joined the Mustangs."

"Why?"

"Why was she scared or why did I join?"

"Both." Michael tried to lift his head to get a better view but he found he didn't have the strength.

"I joined because I wanted to get back at Irons, make him pay for what he did to my Mother."

Realization hit Michael like a ton of bricks. He didn't think to question Julie when she said she was divorced but still had a six month old baby. "Amy?"

Tommy nodded, his face a mask of hatred. He took her away one night. I wasn't there. I was here with Frannie. He took her and…"

Michael reached over grabbing the boy's clenched fist.

"I told her not to keep it. It was his baby. But she said it wasn't the baby's fault that she was conceived in violence."

"You're mother's a strong woman."

"She's a fool. Irons will never leave her alone. He knows Amy is his. He wants what's his."

"And so you joined the gang. I admire your guts Tommy, but not your wisdom. He's too well guarded by his people, you could never have gotten to him."

"I would have if you hadn't gotten in the way." He yanked his hand away. "I'll be back." He started crawling toward the exit.

"Where are you going?"

"To get more supplies. They're out there for the taking if you know where to look. I'll be back."

"Tommy.. Promise me you will stay clear of Irons for now."

"You just worry about yourself. I'll be back later."

Bonnie cuddled Amy next to her breast wondering for a moment if she would ever feel a child of her own nestled in her arms. Julie had fallen asleep from exhaustion with her arm draped over Tony's shoulder. He had been through so much in his young life. The power crisis had not been easy for anyone but for those living by the Bay it was a living hell.

Devon poked his head in. Bonnie motioned for him to be quiet.

"May I see you for a moment outside?" he whispered.

Carefully she laid the sleeping infant next to her mother and stepped out into the cold night air.

"They're all exhausted." She said rubbing the back of her neck. She was starting to feel the effects of two nights without sleep herself.

"K.I.T.T. may have picked up a signal from Michael." Devon said hopefully.

"Where is he?" She pushed Devon aside dropping into K.I.T.T.

"It was only for a moment Bonnie." K.I.T.T. said, an unmistakable hint of worry in his voice. "Approximately three point four miles from Julie's house."

"Are you sure K.I.T.T.?"

"Ninety nine point three percent sure."

"Then we have to go get him." Bonnie started to pull the driver's door closed.

"I want Michael back as much as you do Bonnie." Devon grabbed the door, "But we have to be cautious. There are gangs down there who would do anything to possess a car like this." He patted K.I.T.T.'s roof. "If he were to fall into the wrong hands the consequences could be devastating."

"But what about Michael?"

"We wait. We wait until we get a stronger signal from him and we set up a rendezvous point. Michael would tell you himself that that is the only feasible plan."

"Bonnie," K.I.T.T. said gently, "As much as I want Michael back, I have to admit that Devon is right. If I am spotted and pick up a tail I am all but useless. I would either lead them to Michael or back here to you. Neither is an option"

Bonnie dropped her head back against the seat damning their logic. They were right. She looked out over the Headlands at the Bay waters below. A patch of fog had cleared and the moon's light glinted off the water. She needed Michael. She hadn't realized how much until now. The thought of a child in her arms, Michael's child, brought silent tears to her eyes. It was a thought she had always pushed to the back of her mind. But now it seemed to be taking on a life of its own. She needed him now, desperately. She watched the fog seal up its momentary hole and the light disappeared. She needed him. She loved him. Slowly she climbed out of K.I.T.T. making her way back to the semi.

Michael had not realized he had drifted off until he opened his eyes and saw Tommy huddled over a small cook stove. "I'm taking a chance heating up this broth," he said over his shoulder when he heard Michael stirring. "If someone outside smells it we're in trouble. But you need something warm inside you." He poured a small amount into a mug and crawled over to Michael.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry."

"Doesn't matter." Tommy held the cup to Michael's mouth, "Drink it anyway. You need it."

Michael swallowed the hot liquid. He had to admit that it did taste good. Tommy tucked the blanket around him tighter to ward off the cold and crawled back to the cook stove returning the unused soup to a small glass jar. "You can have some more later. You have to get your strength back before we leave here."

Michael watched him, marveling at the ingenuity of a fourteen year old boy. And he was just that, a boy. He wore his long brown hair tied behind his back with a strip of worn leather. His face still held the last remnants of childhood, but his dark brown eyes looked tired. The past four years had robbed him of his childhood. Michael tried to think back at what his life was like at fourteen. His biggest problem at the time was deciding which movie to go to. Michael swore a solemn oath to himself that he would get Tommy out of here. Reunite him with his mother and brother. And get them all to Ohio where he would at lest have a chance for a decent life. If he stayed here he wouldn't last through his teens.

But first he had to somehow get in touch with K.I.T.T. He felt for his comlink. Because of the energy crisis the battery in his comlink was slowly decaying leaving him unable to transmit or receive over along distances. Without the resources to recharge the battery, K.I.T.T. was unable to lock onto a signal strong enough to read through structures. He had to be in an open space.

"Tommy, look, I've got to get outside just for a few minutes. I have to contact my people, let them know where we are."

Tommy shook his head, "It's too dangerous. You've got to stay hidden."

Michael struggled to sit up on his elbow. "Listen to me. The only way we're going to get out of here is with the help of my friends. But I need to contact them. It will only take a minute or two."

"How?"

Michael massaged the watch on his wrist. "It's also a communicator. I can reach them if they are in range."

Tommy thought about it. "I'll give you two minutes. That's it."

Michael sank back down on the blankets, "That'll be enough."

"K.I.T.T., can you read me Buddy?" Michael huddled in the cold fog just outside the basement. Tommy kept watch.

First there was only static then K.I.T.T.'s faint voice. "Michael.. I am receiving your transmission.. Faintly."

"God, it's good to hear your voice. Are Julie and the kids safe?"

"Yes Michael. They are here with us now. But you don't not sound very good. Are you injured?"

Michael smiled, "Just a little roughed up Pal."

Tommy hissed back at him. "Hurry it up. You've got one more minute."

"Michael. Thank God, you are alive." Devon's anxious voice cracked over the static.

"Not for long if I don't get out of here. Listen.. Don't let K.I.T.T. come into the city under any circumstances. It's too dangerous. I'll come to you."

Tommy whipped his head around. "Are you crazy?" He whispered.

"I agree. How long would it take you to get to Fort Point?"

Michael looked back Tommy. "That's an old abandoned fort beneath the Golden Gate Bridge. It'll take us three days to get there on foot if we travel by night. You need at lest two days to get your strength back."

Michael nodded. "Devon? We'll meet you there in five days."

"I understand Michael. God speed."

"Thanks."

"It won't be easy," Tommy said as he helped Michael back into the basement. "Look," he spread a map on the ground in front of him. "Here we are." He drew a circle around their location with the stub of a pencil that was worn down to its flat eraser. "Here is the Fort." He drew another circle four inches away. "That's about twenty five miles."

"That's not bad."

"It wouldn't be if it weren't for this." Tommy drew four circles between their location and the Fort. "Each one of these is a different gang's territory. We'll have to pass through at least three of them."

"Couldn't we go around?"

"Sure. If you want to add four or five more days to the trip."

Michael laid his head back on the make shift pillow Tommy had fashioned out of folded clothes. He wasn't sure if he could make the three days let alone adding another two. He could feel his fever spiking. He needed antibiotics. God only knew where Rhonda's knife had been before she introduced it to him.

He closed his eyes against the rising pain in his stomach. That simple trek outside the basement had left him wasted. He didn't know how he was going to make it to the Fort.

"How did the gangs get such a strangle hold on the city anyway?" He asked. He needed something to think about besides the pain.

"They were always here. When the power went out they seemed to grow overnight. I was still too young when it first happened. They don't take anyone under fourteen."

Michael had remembered how it had all started. At times it felt like a million years ago. California was the first. As the demand for power increased, the amount of power diminished. Power plants that did have energy started demanding exorbitant prices. People's utility bills jumped higher each month. The cost of food soared. Those who could sold their houses and moved eastward. And that's where the chain reaction began. State after state was inundated with refugees from power depressed states. And they too ran out of power. Within a year all the utility companies went bankrupt. Companies went bankrupt as well. The economy was non existent. Jobs dried up.

"Small gangs turned into big gangs." Tommy continued. "My mother said they fed off the anger of the young people, and she was right."

Michael suddenly felt lightheaded. Tommy scooted over to him. "I knew it was too soon for you to move." He said. "You lost a lot of blood." He felt his forehead, "and you're burning up. We're never going to make it all the way to the Fort." Michael heard desperation in his voice for the first time.

Michael grabbed his arm. "We'll make it. In two days I'll be ready to go."

"Sure." Tommy wrapped the blanket around him and watched his eyes slide closed. They would never make it like this.

CHAPTER THREE

K.I.T.T. kept a constant line open waiting for Michael's signal again. It was two days since his last transmission and night had fallen hours ago.

"Anything K.I.T.T.?" Bonnie slipped into the car out of the pouring rain. K.I.T.T.'s number two monitor showed a map of the San Francisco Bay Area. Michael's proposed route was highlighted in yellow.

The wait had been interminable. She tried to keep herself busy inside the semi. Without power to run most of the equipment she had relied on before the energy crisis she found herself constantly busy doing small fix it jobs on K.I.T.T. to keep him running. Back at headquarters it was a little better. When the crisis first loomed Devon set into a motion a plan to make FLAG headquarters self reliant. State of the art windmills were constructed to harness Mother Nature's energy. Wells were drilled deep into the earth to provide water and the infirmary was stocked with every possible contingency in mind.

A special Board of Governors was formed to allocate electricity and water to those most in need. Unfortunately they were too far away from California to help.

Add to that Bonnie's growing affection for Amy she seldom had idle time on her hands. But still she worried. The bond she formed with the infant made her all the more aware of her own life and what was missing. She knew in a way that K.I.T.T. was her child. She had helped develop him, had helped him conquer his fears and answered his questions. But it was in Michael's hands that he had flourished. She watched his personality grow. Sometimes mirroring Michael's and sometimes completely opposite. She watched a computer, albeit the world's most sophisticated computer, grow from a machine to a sentient being.

She gently ran her hand over the gull wing steering wheel. How would K.I.T.T. handle it if Michael didn't return? There was always that possibility. In the past five years alone Michael had hovered between life and death three times as his loved ones watched and prayed. One day their prayers would not be enough. What would happen to K.I.T.T. then?

"Bonnie?"

"Yes K.I.T.T.?"

"He will be all right, you know. He's Michael. He always comes back to us."

"You're right K.I.T.T. I just have to think positive thoughts."

"Then why are you crying?"

Bonnie swiped at an unwanted tear. "I guess I'm just tired K.I.T.T. The worlds gone to hell and I just can't seem to find the strength to fight anymore."

"What you need is rest." K.I.T.T. darkened the windows slid the bucket seat back and piped soft music into the cabin. "You rest for awhile Bonnie."

Bonnie nodded and closed her eyes. Tears flooded her eyes and streamed down her face, but it was such a relief to let herself feel.

Michael had slept on and off for the last two days. Sometimes when he awoke Tommy was there. More often than not, he was gone. He never said where he had gone only that he was making preparations.

It was after dark and the time had come for them to leave. The weather had turned foul earlier that day and rain soaked the streets with its torrential downpour. Thunder rolled over the city, unusual in the Bay Area.

"You don't know where you're going. I do." Tommy said tying one end of a six inch length of rope to Michael's left wrist and the other end to his own. "It's pitch black out there."

Tommy folded the map and handed it to Michael. "Just in case, you know where to meet if we get separated, right?"

Michael nodded.

"Three days. Fort Point." Tommy gathered his things and blew out the candles. "The course is mapped out with the gangs territories, that way if we do get separated you can try to avoid the hot spots."

He was amazed at the boy's composure and abilities. Men twice his age could not have survived what he had been through and he was only fourteen.

The plan was to travel five to seven miles a night. Michael had complained at first. But Tommy insisted it was a reasonable distance considering the areas they would be traveling through and Michael's condition.

"Ready?"

Michael nodded. "Ready."

Tommy pushed the heavy wooden crate covering the basement entrance and they were blasted with the brut of the storm passing overhead. He grabbed Michael's arm and they took off into the blackness.

"There he is." K.I.T.T. startled Bonnie. She hadn't realized she had drifted off. She looked at the monitor. A red line appeared on the map overlaying the yellow line. "I've mapped out the most likely course they will be following. However I am unable to foresee deviations in their course do to gangs and other obstacles."

"Good work K.I.T.T. Now we know he's still with us."

"I never doubted it for a moment Bonnie."

Bonnie laid her head back on the headrest, a small smile playing at her lips.

Michael couldn't tell where they were going, but Tommy seemed to know. The rain soaked his clothes in seconds. He would have given a million dollars to have his black leather jacket right about now. The wind came from the west, off the ocean, biting cold and gusting up to thirty miles an hour. They ran down the sidewalks, hugging the buildings. Everything was black. A streak of lightening brightened the sky and Michael saw a street sign above them: Pierce and Geary. They had only made it half a block. He saw trashcans used for warmth abandoned in the rain. Water rose against the gutters and spilled over, flooding the sidewalks.

A figure darted across the street in front of them. Instinct took over and Michael pushed Tommy against the wall. They waited. He seemed to have been the only one brave, or dumb enough, to weather the elements.

Michael damned the impulsive action, he felt the knife wound pull apart and something warm trickled down his side.

Tommy grabbed his arm and they spirited across the deserted intersection. Useless traffic lights swung wildly in the gusty winds, once controlling bumper to bumper traffic twenty-four hours a day. They climbed through a shattered plate glass window that once displayed state of the art electronics. TV's and radios sat untouched on the showroom floor, the glass screens shattered. Speakers and amplifiers littered the ground. Looters, even in a frenzy, knew there was little need for them when there was no electricity.

Michael barely heard Tommy whispering over the drum of the falling rain and the buzzing in his ears. "You all right?"

Michael nodded. "Let's go!"

They traveled on through the night, from one storefront to another. The streets were blessedly empty. Even gang members didn't want to venture out in weather like this.

They passed Scott and Bush streets. Climbed Pine and Divisadaro. At the corner of Broadrich and Clay a gang hooted and hollered beneath the outside lobby of a once upscale hotel.

"The Jefes" Tommy whispered. "We make it past them then we can rest for the night."

Michael nodded. He was nearing the point of exhaustion. He only hoped the blood he felt streaming down his side was not leaving a trail behind. But, he thought ironically, he could lose every last ounce of blood in him and the rains would wash it away.

"Three more blocks." Tommy promised. "We stop at Lyon and Broadway."

"Three more blocks." He panted.

The last block Tommy had to half drag half carry Michael to their home for the night. It was an abandoned Cable Car Depot. Just a small three walled structure to keep passengers out of the elements while waiting for the next crowded Cable Car to clang down the street. Once a hub of activity it was now just like everywhere else in the city, left to ruin, occupied by derelicts and gang members. Michael spotted the shadows of two men huddled on a bench inside, sleeping.

Tommy raised a metal grate in the street with a crowbar he had stashed beneath a litter of soggy old magazines and newspapers in front of the station. Michael followed him down the hole and watched him slide the heavy lid back in place. Tommy led him down a low dark tunnel beneath the street holding on to the rope tied between them. He moved through the darkness with familiarity. Michael cringed at the sounds of rats scurrying over the walls. He even felt one dart over his shoe. "You'll get used to them." Tommy called back, "only a few more steps." Towards the back of the tunnel Michael could see a faint light flickering on the walls.

A girl, no more than thirteen or fourteen, Michael estimated, sat in the corner working by candlelight. She had three bowls of food set out and four opened cans lying around her.

"You're just in time." She grinned. The candlelight framed her face. Her short dark red hair, still damp from the rain, highlighted a face covered in freckles. But the thing that struck Michael the most, as with Tommy, was the tired look in her eyes. Not just physical tiredness, but emotionally spent. She wore a heavy wool sweatshirt overtop a thick turtleneck sweater. He saw a pile of damp clothes behind her.

Michael gratefully sank down onto a bed of old towels and rags. Some of them still held the smell of engine grease. In their hay day the cable cars were cleaned, oiled and greased daily in one of fifteen underground stations like this one. With the light from the candles he could see the thick iron gears that had once pulled the cable cars up some of San Francisco's steepest hills. But now, like everything else, they just stood as a reminder of what was.

"I hope you guys are hungry. Let's see," she said stirring a bowl before passing it to Tommy. "Cold corn, string beans, peas and a little pimento to add character," she said with pride. "And.." She pulled a can of Coke from behind her. "Surprise!"

Tommy nearly leaped on top of her grabbing the soda can. "Where the hell did you find this?"

"Over there." She pointed to an old ice chest just barely visible in the dim light. "It must have belonged to one of the workers down here."

Tommy popped the can and laughed as spray blew in his face. He took a taste, first hesitant, then two big swallows making him cough. Michael laughed at the pure joy Tommy experienced from a can of soda. He offered Michael a sip, but he declined. That was Tommy's treat. The girl, likewise shook her head and just watched as he sipped at the can, making it last as long as he could.

Michael extended his hand to the girl, yanking it back when he realized it was covered with blood.

"Tommy said your wound was closed." She said, scrambling over to him. "At least you have until tomorrow night to rest. I'm Frannie, by the way."

"I figured that." Michael gritted his teeth as she worked on his stomach. She seemed to know what she was doing. "Tommy told me your size so I've got a change of clothes here. After I've cleaned you up you can change into some dry clothes and then get some food in your belly."

An hour later Michael dug into the bowl of vegetables. He didn't realize he was hungry until the first mouth full then he couldn't get enough. Frannie had applied a new bandage, stopping the flow of blood, and wrapped his aching ribs with Ace Bandages. It seemed that everything they needed was already there.

Tommy answered the unspoken question. "Frannie and I supplied each stop we make with all the things we thought we needed. Even Coke." He slid over to Frannie and grabbed her around the waist tickling her until she was reduced to uncontrolled laughter. She was a child, they both were and Michael grinned at the sight of the two playing, as they should, not working just to stay alive.

Tommy stopped playing. He looked over at Michael embarrassed.

"I'm not here." Michael smiled faintly, turning his head toward the wall. They were children, but they were expected to act like adults to survive. Why then should they not be allowed to enjoy adult pleasures?

Michael fell asleep to the sound of their soft voices whispering in the darkened corner.

With the passing rain came the smell of fresh air and warm breezes. Bonnie looked out at the Bay toward the city. By looking at the tall skyscrapers standing elegantly in the morning sunshine and the soft waves of the bay reflecting the sun's rays she would never have know that the city was under siege. But there was no doubt that a war going on down there. It was a war for territories. It was a war between gangs whose sole existence was to rule the city as their own. Michael had stepped into the middle of that war.

K.I.T.T. rolled up behind her tapping the backs of her knees with his bumper. She smiled and sat down on the fender. "Beautiful, isn't it K.I.T.T.?

"It was once known as the most beautiful city in the world. Remember when we were here the last time Bonnie?"

"It's not something I'm likely to forget. But it did bring me back together with you and Michael. I will always to grateful for that."

"Michael and I feel the same way."

"Two more nights K.I.T.T. Then we have him back with us. I wonder what he's doing now?"

"Hopefully sleeping. He will need all his strength for tonight's journey."

Michael slept fitfully through most of the day. Frannie had forced him to take a pain pill towards early morning and that had knocked him out of for another four hours. Now he just waited for nightfall so they could begin again. He wanted this to be all over. He just wanted to be back inside K.I.T.T.'s cockpit, safe and warm.

Tommy had left two hours ago to forage for more supplies. It had been decided that Frannie would stay with them. Tommy wanted her with him when they moved to Ohio and Frannie had nothing to hold her here. She lived off the streets. Her parents had disappeared early one morning while she was with Tommy and left her behind.

He watched her in the warm light from the flickering candle. Her face still held the softness of youth, but her body was far too thin. He noticed a long scar on the back of her right hand.

"How did you get that?" He asked.

She snatched her hand back out of the light. "One of Iron's girlfriends. You met her."

Michael touched the bandage on his stomach, still oozing blood. "Yea."

"You did a good job fixing me up." He said, changing the subject, it obviously made her uncomfortable.

"My Mom was a nurse at a Half Way House on Mission Street. There wasn't always a babysitter around so I spent most of my afternoons there. When I got older she'd let me help. I wanted to be a doctor before…" Her voice trailed off. She had long ago promised herself not to dream. It hurt too much when they didn't come true. "I better go help Tommy." She said suddenly and she was gone.

He looked up at the stone ceiling and wondered if she would ever have the chance to see her dream come true. If there was a way he'd find it. Somehow. His eyes grew tired and he drifted off.

The sound of the metal grate sliding open awoke him instantly. It was most likely Tommy and Frannie. He had no idea how long he had been asleep. But instinct told him never to assume. He crawled deeper into the shadows and watched.

Light from the open manhole above framed the two men dressed in faded blue denims and plaid flannel shirts as they crouched in the confines of the small tunnel waiting for their eyes to adjust. Surprise was on his side, the only thing on his side. But he couldn't wait for the kids to return. They would be walking right into an ambush. Someone must have seen them enter the tunnel. The two men sleeping on the bench. He cursed himself for not taking them out when he had a chance. This was war. And he had to do everything and anything to stay alive and get the kids back to safety. He would not slip up again like that.

The two intruders whispered in Spanish. Part of the Jefes Gang. Michael understood a few words but not enough. He wished now that he had paid more attention when K.I.T.T. translated for him.

They started to walk deeper into the tunnel. Michael quietly scrambled around feeling for any kind of weapon. His hand touched the can opener Frannie had used. Useless. He found the can of disinfectant she had sprayed on the bandages he had around his waist to help ward off infection. When she had applied it he almost hit the ceiling. It was mostly alcohol. He grabbed the can and left the candle burning scurrying deeper into the shadows of the tunnel. He wanted the element of surprise on his side. With the candle lit the men would unconsciously relax a notch. He watched them approach, cautious. He waited until they hovered above the candle looking at the opened cans littering the ground, the bloody rags and the now empty can of Coke. One leaned down to grab the Coke can laughing as he shook the dry can hoping for just a taste.

Michael lunged out of the darkness screaming like a man possessed. He sprayed the first man's eyes with the disinfectant and the Jefe went down on his knees crying in pain, trying to rub the stinging mist out of his eyes. Startled the second Jefe tried to draw a gun from his belt but Michael was all over him, driving him to the ground. Michael straddled the man pummeling his face and chest with punches born of fear and hatred for what they had reaped upon the innocents like Tommy and Frannie. Again and again he hit the man, ignoring the pain in his stomach and ribs. He didn't notice the second man rear up behind him ready to pounce.

Tommy lunged over the two struggling men and hit Michael's second attacker in the shoulder driving him to the ground. Frannie was beside him with the crowbar and swung the piece of iron. She cringed at the thudding sound of iron hitting the man's skull.

He turned to Michael pulling him off the already unconsciousness man. "We've got to get out of here. Now. They know where we are. There'll be plenty more in a few minutes."

Frannie grabbed everything she could carry, stuffing it in a duffel bag. She noticed the gun lying at Michael's side and stuffed it in the duffel bag too. Tommy grabbed Michael's arm dragging him toward the manhole.

Carefully Tommy peeked out of the hole. The streets were still bathed in the last the rays of the sun. It would be dark in another hour but they didn't have the luxury of waiting. The Jefes would be swarming over them as soon as they realized their two men were missing. He reached down and grabbed Michael's outstretched hand. Michael nearly screamed in pain as he was slowly hoisted out of the hole. Tommy reached back down for Frannie and pulled her up. Michael spotted an abandoned truck driven into the plate glass entrance of a furniture store. They dove beneath the truck huddled in the shadows.

"Hey," Tommy grinned. "You're really getting the hang of this aren't you?"

"I'm a quick study." Michael grinned back. "We stay here until it gets dark. Where's our next stop?"

"The out skirts of Chrissy Field. It used to be part of the Presidio."

Michael remembered touring the Presidio years ago. At the time it was still a functioning Arm Base before being decommissioned by the Military. "Isn't that a little risky? The gangs must have taken over the barracks there."

"They have. But it's the fastest way to Fort Point. We'll be all right as long as we stick to the outskirts. Frannie has all we need stashed in a bunker. We should make it in four maybe five hours depending on how fast you can travel."

"Don't worry about me."

Tommy glanced back at him. The guy had guts.

"I have him again!" K.I.T.T. called. Devon and Bonnie raced out of the semi. "They are here." A red line stopped at Lyon and Broadway.

"They're waiting for dark." Devon opened the door for Bonnie to slide in. "Can you get a reading on his vitals?"

"No. The transmission is too weak."

Bonnie studied the color-coded map on K.I.T.T.'s number one screen. Michael and Tommy had already passed through the Mustang and Jefes' territories, now they would be moving through the Blades home ground.

"Keep us updated K.I.T.T." Devon ordered. "Coming my dear?"

"No, you go ahead Devon. I want to stay here for awhile."

"Of course." He gently leaned in the car and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. "He'll come back to us. He always has."

Bonnie squeezed his hand. "I'm trying to believe that."

Their progress was slow. They had to stop every few minutes for Michael to rest. The fight in the tunnel had taken its toll. Frannie couldn't control the bleeding while they were on the move. They had to sneak past pockets of gang members at every corner. They stayed on Lyon Street making their way past Green and Union. At Filbert they met the first of the Blade gangs.

As incredible as the day was the night was even better. No fog, only a black sky filled with millions of stars and a bright full moon. At Greenwich they huddled beneath the porch of an old Victorian house. They could hear rowdy laughter from above as gang members played drums and bongos. Someone started singing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" and everyone joined in. Michael felt himself being lulled into a false sense of security. His stomach hurt so badly and he was so tired of fighting. He felt himself collapsing against Tommy's shoulder but could do nothing to stop himself.

"Come on!" Michael heard Tommy hiss at him then felt a sharp slap across the cheek. "Come on!"

He felt Tommy and Frannie hoist him to his feet and they were on the run again. They made it four blocks to Bay Street before Michael collapsed again.

Frannie's mouth was right next to his ear. "Just two more blacks." She promised.

Michael shook his head. He couldn't move another inch. "You two go on." He moaned. "You meet my friends."

"Not without you." She raised a canteen of water to his lips. "Just a little." She warned.

The water relieved his parched throat. He looked down at his blood soaked shirt. He was loosing too much blood; he would never make it another two blocks.

He grabbed her wrist hard. "Listen to me. You two have done enough. I will only slow you down now. Please.. Go."

Tommy squatted down next to him and pointed across the street. "Do you see that?" He asked, anger rising in his voice.

Michael strained to make out the dark image. He shook his head as he realized what it was.

"That will be you if they catch you here." Tommy growled.

Michael's stomach turned. A five-foot stack of tires stood against the building. A man stood in the center his head hanging lifelessly against the top tire.

"There's not enough room to move inside there." Tommy continued. "The only thing you can do is stand. All day, all night. In your condition you probably would last long two maybe three days. It took that man seven days to die. I heard his screams every day."

Fear spurred Michael to his feet and they traveled on. They hit Bay Street and The Palace Of Fine Arts. He remembered visiting the Exploratorium in there. Now it was just an empty shell. Fire pits ringed the building casting flickering shadows across the once ornate structure. Tears came to Michael's eyes as he thought of the things they had done to the city, to themselves. Could the world as he remembered it ever be recaptured?

Frannie led him and Tommy to a small bunker on the outskirts of Chrissy Field. Once part of the Presidio, it was first turned into a National Park and now into the home base for The Blades.

Frannie shoved away old branches of a tree she had used to hide the opening and jumped in waiting for Tommy to ease Michael's limp body down to her. Together they dragged him to the back of the bunker. He was out cold from blood loss and exhaustion. Frannie lit one small candle just enough to tend to his wound and then snuffed it out. It was too dangerous for light or sound there.

Sometime after dawn Michael awoke. Disorientated from a fever that had constantly risen through the night he lunged for the lighted opening of the bunker. He hated confined spaces. He needed to be out in the sunlight. K.I.T.T. would be waiting for him out there. Tommy grabbed him forcing him back.

"No!" he hissed. "You'll get us all killed."

"Let me go!" Michael screamed.

Tommy was on top of him, forcing a rag into his mouth. Frannie sat at the entrance listening. If someone had heard it would be all over. He looked back down at Michael. He had fallen back into a fitful sleep.

"Do you think anyone heard?" He hissed at Frannie.

"I don't hear anyone around. Do you think he can make it all the way to the Fort tonight?"

She crawled deeper into the bunker and cuddled next to Tommy.

"I don't know." He whispered. "But I can't leave him behind. He's here because he helped my Mom and the kids."

"I know." She soothed. "But he'd want us to survive too."

He pulled back not quite understanding what she had just said. "You would leave him here for the Blades?"

She nodded. "If it meant saving your life." She tried to cuddle back against his neck but he backed away.

"We don't leave him, do you understand? No matter what. That makes us just as bad as them. We live here. We got caught up in this because people decided to run instead of fight. He didn't have to be a part of this. He came to help. The only way we leave him behind is if he's dead."

Frannie crawled over to Michael and gently lifted the bandage on his stomach. "He's bad off Tommy. Don't be surprised if he doesn't make it."

Tommy looked at her and her eyes held something he had never seen before. Cold steel. She was becoming just as cold and unfeeling as the rest of the world out there. He laid his head back against the wall of the concrete bunker and half closed his eyes. He had two jobs now. Getting Michael to the rendezvous point and keeping him alive.

Several hours later Michael awoke. He tried to sit up.

"Lay still" Tommy ordered. "You'll need your strength for tonight." There was tiredness in his voice that had not been there before.

He noticed Tommy and Frannie sitting apart. There was a definite feeling of uneasiness inside the bunker.

"How long before we move out?"

"Four hours. You try and get some more sleep."

K.I.T.T. ignited the engine and Bonnie climbed in. She wore a black jumpsuit and her hair was tied back in a ponytail. Her light skin was hidden beneath a layer of dirt. Julie leaned in and grabbed her hand. "Bring them back safely."

"I will." Bonnie promised.

"God speed my dear." Devon said as K.I.T.T. backed the car away and it disappeared into the night. He wondered what she would find when she got to Fort Point. He didn't tell her what K.I.T.T. had relayed to him earlier that night. He didn't know how. Michael was at last close enough for K.I.T.T. to do a medical scan and what he found was devastating. Michael's vitals were dangerously weak. He didn't know quite how to tell her that she could be too late.

They made their way across Chrissy Field. Frannie no longer helped Tommy guide Michael across the waist high grass.

Michael was no longer aware of where he was or what he was doing. Somehow instinct told him to keep moving. He didn't feel Tommy at his side picking him up every time he fell face forward into the grass.

Tommy heard the waves crashing against the pilings around the cliff that Fort Point stood atop. He remembered being there years ago during a school field trip. He struggled to remember everything he had learned that day. It was built sometime in eighteen fifty three or four to protect the San Francisco Bay from hostile fleets. He wondered what it must have looked like to see those huge masted ships sailing through the Golden Gate, before the bridge was ever built, he reminded himself. Michael slipped and he grabbed his arm pulling him back up again. They used it during the Civil War, he remembered, the thunder of those big cannons must have shook the ground like an earthquake. It was used for training and supplies until World War Two. Tommy slipped himself on the wet grass and he went down hard on top of Michael.

Frannie just watched. She wanted Michael dead. He had become between her and Tommy. He cared more for the life of a stranger than hers. Once he was dead Tommy would be hers again. She remembered the gun in the duffel bag.

Tommy concentrated on the Fort. What else did he remember? It was used as a base of operations while they built the Golden Gate Bridge. He tried to imagine what it must have looked like without the two great bridges that were so much a part of San Francisco.

Then searchlights were mounted on the walls and it was used to keep the city safe from submarines during World War Two. He couldn't believe he remembered so much.

He felt the grass turn to concrete beneath his feet. He eased Michael down to the ground and huddled over him. "We're here." He grinned. "We've made it. Now all we have to do is wait for your people."

"They'll be here." Michael whispered. "They'll be driving the same black Trans Am you saw at the house. Just ask for K.I.T.T."

"K.I.T.T.? What kind of name is that?"

"You'll see." A faint smile crossed his lips.

Tommy looked back at Frannie sitting on the walkway. "You come with me." He ordered.

He couldn't see her face in the darkness but he could feel the hatred. When had she changed so much? Why hadn't he seen it until now? Was it just that she loved him too much or was it because the world had finely gotten to her? In any case he could not let her stay alone with Michael, he knew that from looking in her eyes earlier today.

"We'll be back in a few minutes." He promised Michael.

K.I.T.T. kept to the darkest part of the roads as they carefully approached Fort Point. He had picked up Michael's signal but it was so weak it was nearly unreadable. It was time Bonnie knew.

"Bonnie. Please try to remain calm. I have Michael's vitals. He is gravely injured."

"No.." She stared at K.I.T.T.'s left monitor. K.I.T.T. was right. His vitals were weak and getting weaker. "How long have you known"

"Since early this morning. Devon thought it would be best if you didn't have to worry too."

"You had no right to keep that from me." Bonnie exploded.

"What good would it have done if you knew?"

Bonnie shot a glance at K.I.T.T.'s voice box. She hated it when he was right. It would not have done her any good. "K.I.T.T. hurry please."

"I am Bonnie."

Bonnie saw the hulking shape of the Golden Gate Bridge in the darkness before she saw the small fort sitting beneath it.

K.I.T.T. followed Michael's comlink until they could go no further. "He's on the other side of the fort." K.I.T.T said.

"Can you get around it?"

"Yes. But it will take considerable time and I would be exposing myself to an unknown amount of people."

"Then I'll go in on foot."

"That's too dangerous Bonnie."

"Do you have a better suggestion? Michael is hurt in there. Possibly dying. Can you stand by and do nothing?"

"No of course not." K.I.T.T. agreed. "But please, be careful."

"I will K.I.T.T. Scan for anyone else lurking in the shadows."

"Already done Bonnie. I am picking up three people. Michael and two others. They all seem to be together. Wait.. They have separated. Two have left Michael behind and are heading for the fort."

"Michael?"

"He is stationary."

"Alright K.I.T.T."

"Bonnie.."

"I know K.I.T.T., be careful. I will. I promise. And I will bring him back to us… Alive."

Bonnie slid out of the bucket seat and crawled behind a cement pillar. Behind her K.I.T.T had closed the door so softly that not even she heard it.

Even though the rest of the city was still bathed in starlight and a full moon, here at the Presidio the cold fog had moved in on a stiff sea breeze. She could her the waves pounding at the cliffs beneath the fort and against the bridge's pilings. She snuck down passages leading to empty barracks, all without doors. The cold wind swirled through the open corridors stinging her face. The sound of a long forgotten flagpole, it's steel cables still attached, clanged against the metal pole adding a sense of loneliness to the place. How the soldiers had survived the hellish elements was beyond her.

She felt her way along the stone steps and onto the main deck of the fort. Michael was supposed to be there. But where? She didn't dare call out his name. The place may have looked empty but there was no telling who could be lurking in the dark passages, despite K.I.T.T.s' scan.

She waited. Two dark shapes approached. A young man hissed. "K.I.T.T.?"

"Who are you?" she whispered back.

"Friends of Michael's. We are meeting K.I.T.T. here. Do you know him?"

Bonnie carefully left the safety of the darkened passageway. Her nerves were on edge. This could be a trap. Two figures stood in the center of the main deck. Even through the almost non-existent light and swirling fog she could tell that they were young.

"Where is he?" She asked, walking toward them.

"He's.." Frannie suddenly shoved Tommy in the back knocking him into Bonnie and they both ended up sprawled on the concrete.

"No!" he yelled scrambling after the girl. "Don't!"

Bonnie scrambled after them. It took her precious time in the thick fog to make her way across the deck and down the steps leading to the walkway below.

Tommy reached Frannie. She stood over Michael, her back arched in a strange position. As he got closer he saw the gun in her hand. Michael was staring up at her.

"Don't do it Frannie." He said weakly. There was no fear in his voice only understanding. "I know you've been through a lot but it's about to change. You do this now and it's all over."

"I can't let you take him away. He's all I got." She cried.

"We're not taking him away. You're coming with us."

"No. Don't you see? It's different in Ohio. They won't like me there. Look at me!"

"If you don't want to go, we'll stay." Frannie spun around at the sound of Tommy's voice. "I don't want to be anywhere without you either."

He slowly approached her watching the gun in her hand. "I thought you wanted out of here too."

Bonnie silently walked around the two and dropped to her knees next to Michael. His eyes didn't waver from the gun for a moment.

"We have a chance in Ohio. It's not like here. There are no gangs. We've talked about it. You were as excited as I was. What happened?"

"I got scared. I saw Michael and I saw how different he is from the other men around here. I don't belong anywhere anymore."

Tommy gently lifted the gun from her hand throwing it aside. "You belong with me. Where ever I go you will be a part of my life or it wont be worth living." He drew her into his chest kissing her cheek.

Bonnie hovered over Michael. Even through the gloom of the fog she could see the wide swatch of blood soaking his shirt and pants. She gently brushed the wet hair off his forehead. His skin felt cold and clammy despite the fever. He was going into shock. "Hey, are you about ready to go home?" she asked softly.

Michael nodded, too weak to talk. He was safe now.

She reached up and dragged them both down next to her. "We can't move him again. How safe are we here?"

"This is the Blades territory but they usually don't hang out here. It's too damn cold."

"All right." She lifted Michael's wrist to her mouth and spoke into the comlink.

"K.I.T.T., we need you here."

"Michael?"

"Yes."

"E.T.A. is seven minutes. But Bonnie I may have a tail by the time I reach you."

"I understand K.I.T.T. Just get here. Fast."

She laid down next to Michael using her body to warm his. Seven minutes was such a long time.

Frannie laid down opposite her using her body too. "Two bodies are better than one." She smiled.

"I think I'm in heaven." Michael whispered.

Bonnie gently slapped his shoulder. "Don't you ever give it a rest?"

Bonnie heard the sounds of K.I.T.T.'s turbine engines as he flew over the hill and squealed to a stop beside them automatically opening both doors. Frannie helped Bonnie and Tommy carefully load Michael into the passenger seat then hopped in the back. Tommy climbed in beside her. Bonnie took the driver's seat. The sounds of angry voices filled the fort. The Blades were there.

K.I.T.T. pulled away as gently as he could and headed back down the road. There were no hospitals in the city. The only care Michael could receive was at the semi.

It was three days before Michael regained consciousness inside the rolling Semi. They had left San Francisco far behind traveling at night like a black specter across the empty freeways. They would arrive in Ohio in another two days.

Michael looked up from the small cot across from K.I.T.T. and smiled. "Hey Pal. It's good to see you."

"You as well Michael. You gave us all quite scare."

"You should have been on the other side."

"No thank you. One of the benefits of being a car is I don't nearly bleed to death."

"Good morning Michael." Devon walked over a cup of coffee in his hand. "Sorry my boy, not for you for awhile I fear. Tepid tea and water only for the next three days. Doctors orders."

"That's right." Frannie walked up to the cot nervously.

"Thanks Frannie. You make a great nurse."

"And you'll make a fine doctor too." Bonnie drew her portable mechanics stool over to the cot. "Can anyone join the party?"

"The more the merrier." Devon grinned. "Now, I believe we should let Michael rest so he can get back on his feet."

Frannie leaned down close to him. "Michael, about…"

"Hey.." Michael raised a shaky hand to hers. "It didn't happen. This," he said looking past her at the group surrounding K.I.T.T. talking all at once.. "is the only thing that matters."

Frannie nodded and walked back to the group folding her arm around Tommy's waist. Michael smiled as he drifted back to sleep. It had been one hell of a week but in the end it was definitely worth it.

"Michael…?"

Michael heard his voice being called from far away.

"Michael.."

He opened his eyes, the bright overhead lights blinding him for a second.

"You gave us all quite a scare young man." Devon said leaning over him.

Michael looked around, confused.

"That was some cocktail Rhonda slipped you at Irons Bar the other night." Bonnie leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "You even had the old Doc here worried."

"I don't understand.." Michael said, his words slurred.

"They slipped you a small vile of poison frozen inside an ice cube." Bonnie explained. "As soon as the ice melted and the acids in your stomach ate through the vile you would have been poisoned. Doctor Francine Blade operated and got it out just as it stated leaking. You've been a very sick man for the past week. But you'll be as good as new soon."

"And Tommy?" Michael looked around the room. This was getting too weird for him.

"Tommy?" A nurse walked up to the bed with Michael's meds. "The only Tommy I know was a street kid we had in here. The bed right next to yours in fact. He said the only thing he wanted to do was get back home to Ohio. He died last night. Poor kid."

Michael looked over at the empty bed. "He made it." He whispered.

"What? That's enough for tonight. Michael needs his rest." Doctor Blade ushered everyone out of the room. "Oh, by the way, we found this in your pants pocket. I didn't know if it held any sentimental value or not." She placed a matchbook cover in his hand. "I thought maybe you just took a trip and saved it as a memento."

Michael looked down at the book of matches in his hand. It read: "San Francisco, where the cable cars travel half way to the stars."