Desert Knight

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Michael Knight tried to stretch his cramped muscles in the confines of the black Trans Am as it sped across the desert floor headed for Nevada and home. He had been on the road for six hours and although KITT was designed to afford him the up most comfort, the human body was not designed to stay in this sedentary position for so long.
"How much longer KITT?" Michael asked trying to stifle a yawn.
"At our present speed one hour and forty two minutes."
"Another hour?"
"And forty two minutes."
"Very funny."
"You sound tired Michael, why don't you get some rest, I'll wake you when we are ten minutes out." KITT offered.
"Sounds good Pal. But make it five minutes." Michael reclined the seat back and nestled into a comfortable position. This was the way to travel, he thought, as he let his mind drift off into a peaceful sleep.. almost
"Michael, Devon is calling." KITT called softly..
"Great." Michael set his seat back up and glared at the monitor, "Put him through."
Devon's cheerful face filled the screen.
"Michael, I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"Not at all Devon. I've only been on the road six hours and dogged tired, but you're not disturbing me."
"My, my, aren't we petulant today. By the way, Bonnie tells me you are a little over an hour away, I will expect your report on my desk by five this evening. I have shareholders I must appease. This was an exceedingly expensive case, I want to know how every penny of the Foundation's money was spent."
"You're kidding." Michael said, staring at the monitor.
"I wish I were. The board of directors has found it necessary to bring in a new accountant and she has decided that we spend far too much money in the field."
Michael sat up straighter. "How the hell does she know what goes on in the field? Devon, every penny I spend is necessary."
"Yes, yes, I believe you Michael, but I need to see it in writing."
"Michael," KITT interrupted, "Does that mean the expensive dinner you had with the young lady Tuesday night was necessary?"
"Michael?" Devon's smile faded, "What young lady?"
Michael glared at K.I.T.T.'s dash, wishing he were human so he could strangle him. "K.I.T.T., shut up."
"Yes Michael."
"What young lady?" Devon persisted.
"Devon, it was all in the line of duty, I promise. She was my contact. I couldn't take her to McDonalds!"
"We'll see Michael. Just have your report on my desk by.."
"Michael," K.I.T.T. interrupted again, "there appears to be a disabled car up ahead." K.I.T.T.s monitor switched from Devon to a late model silver BMW parked on the side of the road, it's windows tinted almost black against the glaring sun. The hood was raised and a young woman sat on the fender fanning herself with a folded newspaper.
"OK K.I.T.T.," Michael said, overriding Auto Cruise, relieved to have Devon off his back, "let's see if we can give her a hand."
"Yes Michael."
"Michael," Devon's face appeared on the monitor again, "I still expect that report by five this afternoon."
"I know Devon, I know."
Michael pulled K.I.T.T.to a stop in front of the sedan and jumped out. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked.
"I think the water hose broke." She said standing up. She barely came up to Michael's chest, 5'2 at the most, short brown hair, hazel eyes, mid twenties. "This could turn out to be a good day after all." Michael thought.
"I can't believe you showed up. I've been out here for hours."
Michael's comlink beeped twice. Michael waved K.I.T.T.off..
"I forgot my cell phone and .."
"It's OK," Michael said, "I'll give you a lift into the next town.."
The comlink beeped again.
"Could you give me a second?" he asked, walking back to the car.
"Alright K.I.T.T., what's the big hurry?"
"I thought you should know Michael, the young lady's car engine is still hot. She has not been here for hours. I would calculate fifteen minutes at the most."
Michael looked back at the girl, "Really?"
"Yes Michael. And Michael."
"Yea K.I.T.T.?"
"I am unable to scan the interior of the car."
"That's strange. How come?"
"I don't know , but I would use caution."
"Got ya. Thanks Pal"
Michael walked back to the sedan, forcing a relaxed smile. The girl was probably just exaggerating, trying to elicit more sympathy. But why couldn't K.I.T.T. scan the car's interior.
"Sorry about that." Michael smiled, looking down at the girl. K.I.T.T. was right, there was something wrong with this picture. For a person who had been stuck in the desert heat for hours she looked remarkably refreshed. No sunburn, no sweat. But he couldn't leave her out here in the desert, alone. "Come on," he said, "You can call a tow truck from my car, I have a phone."
"Great. I don't know how I can ever thank you Michael."
Michael suddenly felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He hadn't introduced himself. How did she know his name? He took a step back toward K.I.T.T., suddenly painfully aware of the distance between him and the car.
"Michael," KITT warned, "there is someone else in the car."
Michael saw the sedan's passenger door open.
Michael froze.
"How gallant of you Michael Knight." Harold Vincent stepped out of the car, smiling, his gun aimed at Michael's heart.
KITT's scanner tracked back and forth.
"I knew you couldn't resist a damsel in distress, especially one as beautiful as Marcy " He said, wrapping his left arm around the girl and pulling her closer. She snuggled against his chest smiling back at Michael. "You didn't tell me he was so handsome." She cooed. "What a waste."
"What do you want Vincent?" Michael asked.
"A little information."
Michael looked around, he felt terribly vulnerable. He had been following Harold Vincent for two years. Every lead leading to a dead end. Filthy rich and a computer genius, he had evaded the law at every turn. Over the years he had racked up a long list of corporate espionage, blackmail and murder charges. Michael wanted him. Wanted him in the worst way. But not here, not like this, not when Vincent held all the cards. Michael swallowed hard, this was not good.
"First, let me set the ground rules." Vincent began, "You do exactly what I say and I may let you live. You don't do exactly what I say," he shrugged, "the consequences are obvious."
"You'll kill me anyway." Michael said flatly..
"Possibly, but can you take that chance? Oh by the way," he continued, nodding toward K.I.T.T., "I know a little about your car there. The Knight Industries Two Thousand. Equipped with state of the art communications, a molecular bonded shell and a computer that can think for it self. Right K.I.T.T.?"
"You know a lot about me." K.I.T.T.'s front scanner tracked back and fort taking in every detail. There was no way he could get between Michael and Vincent before Vincent could get a shot off. He felt helpless. Michel depended on him and he couldn't help. He had let him down. Why hadn't he detected Vincent in the car?
"KITT," Devon whispered. K.I.T.T. had not cut the transmission when Michael left the car and Devon and Bonnie had watched the entire incident unfold on their monitor. "Backup is on the way. They'll be there in thirty minutes. You must stall Vincent until then."
"I'll try Devon."
Vincent looked toward K.I.T.T., "Are you talking to Devon?" he grinned, "tell him I send my regards. Now back to business." He took a deep breath of the hot desert air. "Hot isn't it? A man could die of thirst in a matter of hours."
Michael looked around him. Vincent was right, there was nothing but empty desert as far as the eye could see. The noonday sun beat down on the hot sand sending up waves of shimmering heat. He had to reach K.I.T.T. somehow. He judged the distance. Too far. He would never make it without a bullet in the back.
"Now," Vincent began, "first thing I want you to do K.I.T.T.is shut down communications between you and the foundation. Sorry Devon, old boy, but this is KITT's ballgame."
"I am not programmed to..."
Without blinking an eye Vincent pulled the trigger.
Michael screamed in surprise and pain. White-hot pain exploded in his right shoulder. He reeled back, grabbing his shoulder, blood immediately seeping between his fingers. He felt suddenly cold and distanced from everything. He felt his legs buckle beneath him and he sprawled on the ground looking up at the sky spinning wildly above him. He heard K.I.T.T.'s engine ignite.
"Don't move KITT or I will put a bullet through his head." He heard Vincent warn, his voice sounding miles away.
KITT cut the engine.
.
"Michael!" Bonnie screamed, watching Michael collapse on the desert floor.
"My God," Devon stared at the monitor his face ashen white, "the man is insane."
KITT quickly initiated a medical scan sending it directly to Bonnie and Devon. Already Michael's vital signs were dropping from shock and blood loss.
'K.I.T.T.," Devon whispered, "Can you get to him?"
"Negative. If I approach, Vincent will shoot Michael again."
"Understood. Keep this line open as long as you can. Help is on the way."
"That was just the beginningK.I.T.T.," Vincent warned. "It's all up to you know."
"I don't understand." K.I.T.T.said.
"You will. Very soon."
Michael stared up at the cloudless blue sky, his mind filled with one thought, and one thought only, getting back to K.I.T.T.. He would be safe there. He rolled over on his stomach.
K.I.T.T. watched Michael struggle to his knees, his right arm hanging limply at his side. He had to reach Michael, somehow. Protect him from further harm. How could he have let this happen?
"Now," Vincent said calmly, walking behind Michael, "Let's continue. I know you can override any system. I want you to shut down all communications with the Foundation."
K.I.T.T had to buy time, give backup time to reach them. "I am not programmed...."
"Cut the crap," Vincent snarled, viciously pistol-whipping Michael's injured shoulder.
Michael cried out in pain, sagging forward, trying to hold onto consciousness.
"Michael!"
"Do it!" Vincent ordered.
"All right. But don't hurt Michael further." K.I.T.T. pleaded.
"That's up to you K.I.T.T.."
KITT cut the link with the foundation.

Bonnie and Devon watched the image of Michael disappear on their monitor.
"Can you get them back?" Devon demanded.
"No." Bonnie said, frantically typing code after code on her keyboard. "KITT's cut the transmission."
"How long before backup arrives?"
Bonnie checked her watch, "Twenty minutes."

"Very good," Vincent said. "Now cut the transmission permanently."
"But.." K.I.T.T. began.
Vincent reached down and grabbed a hand full of Michael's hair yanking his head back viciously, ready to pistol -whip him again.
"It's done." K.I.T.T.said.
"No," Michael moaned, 'No..."
Vincent released Michael's hair grabbing him by the back of the collar and dragging him over to the BMW, propping him up in a sitting position against the front wheel.
Michael could barely see K.I.T.T., his vision failing. He knew he couldn't stay consciousness much longer. What did Vincent want? Revenge?
"Now for part two." Vincent told K.I.T.T.. "I want to know where you have Billy Campbell stashed."
"NO!" Michael screamed, but only a whisper crossed his lips. This couldn't be happening. He had promised Billy Campbell that he would protect her from Vincent. That she would be safe.
"I'm not programmed with that information." He heard K.I.T.T. say, then his world exploded again as Vincent kicked him in the right arm. He could feel himself falling as if the ground were opening up and swallowing him. But he had to fight. He couldn't let K.I.T.T. tell Vincent Billy's location. She was the only witness to a brutal murder. Without her there would be no trial. He promised her, he promised...
"I know there is backup on the way K.I.T.T., but they won't make it in time." Vincent looked down at Michael, "Look at him K.I.T.T.."
K.I.T.T. watched Michael, slumped against the wheel, fighting to keep his eyes open, fighting to stay consciousness. Vincent was right, Michael could not take any more.
"It's up to you K.I.T.T." And Vincent pulled his foot back for another vicious kick.
"No!," K.I.T.T. yelled, "I will tell you."
"No," Michael moaned, "K.I.T.T., no."
"I'm sorry Michael. I have no choice."
"K.I.T.T. no," he gasped, "That's an order.." He could feel himself falling further away, K.I.T.T.'s voice fading into the blackness that had enveloped him. The last thing he heard was K.I.T.T. reciting Billy Campbell's address. "No," he cried to himself, "this can't be happening.."
Vincent leaned over and kissed Marcy on the top of her head, "See sweetheart, I told you it would work." He looked over at K.I.T.T. smiling as he and Marcy climbed back into the car, "Thanks K.I.T.T. , I knew you would come through in the end. And oh by the way," he added with relish, "don't expect back up to arrive in time, the desert has no sympathy for a dying man."
KITT watched Vincent pull away, Michael's body sliding to the ground.
Fear was an emotion reserved for living beings, not computers. But at that moment K.I.T.T.'s being was consumed with fear and guilt. He had allowed Michael to walk into a trap and then had been unable to protect him from harm.. If Michael died.. He started the car and rolled up next to Michael opening the driver's door.

"Michael, Michael please wake up. Michael!"
Michael heard his name being called from somewhere far away. "Go away, leave me alone." He thought. But the voice persisted.
He had to make a decision. Stay where he was, drifting weightless with no pain or worries, or fight to reach the voice.
"Michael, please. We have to warn Devon. Vincent is on his way to Billy Campbell's safe house."
"BILLY!" Michael suddenly remembered. K.I.T.T. had told Vincent where she was hiding. Why? Why had K.I.T.T. betrayed a trust like that? He fought his way back through the darkness until he felt the sun backing his face and the hot dry air burning his lungs.
"Michael, can you hear me?" K.I.T.T.'s voice sounded closer.
"Ya K.I T.T.," he breathed, "I hear you."
"You must get in the car." KITT ordered. "Michael, do you hear me?"
"In the car." He mumbled.
"Yes Michael."
Michael tried to move but his right shoulder exploded in pain. He could barely breath.
"Michael, I know you are in pain, but you have to get into the car."
Michael tried to move but he didn't have the strength, his arms and legs felt like dead weight
"I can't," he moaned, "..can't."
"Yes you can. Billy is in great danger."
"Billy.. Why K.I.T.T.?" Why had he told Vincent? Anger seeped into his thoughts and spurred him on. K.I.T.T. had disobeyed a direct order, and now.. He had to get to Billy. With every ounce of strength he had left in his body he reached out and grabbed the car's doorsill and pulled him self up. The pain and weakness made him scream and cry at the same time.
"That's right Michael." He heard K.I.T.T. urge, "Just a little more."
He pulled himself up into the seat then dragged his legs in, nearly passing out from the effort. He heard the door slam after him and the engine ignite.
"I'll get you to a hospital right away Michael. You can contact Devon from there."
"No." Michael ordered, "We have to get to Billy first."
"But Michael," K.I.T.T. protested, "You need medical.."
"It'll have to wait K.I.T.T.."
"But Michael, you are in no condition.."
"That's an order K.I.T.T.. We have to get there before Vincent." He could feel himself loosing his grip on consciousness. Now he could only pray that K.I.T.T. would follow his orders this time.
"Very well Michael." K.I.T.T. conceded.
K.I.T.T.'s voice was fading again.

Michael awoke fifteen minutes later feeling a cool stream of oxygen blowing in his face.
K.I.T.T. must have turned on the emergency oxygen in the cabin.
"Michael, how do you feel?"
"Better K.I.T. T.," he said, and he did, a little. The oxygen was certainly clearing his head. "How much further?"
"Ten minutes Michael."
"Good. Keep your scanners peeled for Vincent. Has he had time to get there yet?"
"No. Even with his head start we should be at least ten minutes ahead of him."
"Good."
"Michael?"
"Yea K.I.T.T.?"
"Do you forgive me?"
Michael closed his eyes against the pain in his shoulder. He didn't want to deal with this now.
"Michael?"
"Not now K.I.T.T.." He sighed, "Not now."
"Please Michael, I need to know."
Michael didn't want to confront K.I.T.T. now. He was too tired and his anger was too raw. K.I.T.T. persisted.
After a long silence he whispered, "You disobeyed me K.I.T.T.."
"It was the only thing I could do Michael. Vincent was going to kill you. I couldn't stand to see you being tortured like that."
Michael looked down at the voice box, needing something tangible to talk to.
"You traded her life for mine. K.I.T.T., it was my decision. I promised her we would protect her, at any cost."
"I couldn't bare to see you in so much pain."
"But you're programmed to save lives, not put them in jeopardy."
"Yes, Michael. I am programmed to save lives, but my dominate program is to save your life. I felt you were not mentally or physically capable of making that kind of decision at the time. I calculated the risks. By telling Vincent Billy's location I could save your life and still have time to warn Billy."
"Too big a risk K.I.T.T.." Michael said flatly.
"I hope someday you will be able to forgive me Michael. I truly believe I made the right decision."
"Maybe. But will I ever be able to trust you?"
Silence filled the cabin, as suffocating as the desert air outside.

Michael regretted what he had said. K.I.T.T. was a computer, yes, but he was also a sentient being. He surprised Michael constantly with his depth of emotion and understanding. He had grown like a child, learning, experiencing. Making decisions far beyond the capabilities of a mere computer. Michael realized he had given Vincent Billy's address not just because of his dominate programming, but because he truly couldn't watch him being brutalized before his eyes.
"K.I.T.T.?"
"K.I.T.T. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said back there. I will always trust you."
"Thank you Michael."
"After all, we're pals, right? Partners?"
"Partners."
Michael wasn't sure, but he swore he heard contentment in K.I.T.T.'s voice.

K.I.T.T. slowed down and pulled into a small sub-division. Three sharp turns later, each one drawing a gasp from Michael as his shoulder was pushed into the seat, K.I.T.T. pulled up to a small one story house, driving across the front lawn and stopping three feet from the front door. The house was one of many duplicate houses on the non- descript street in a small borough off the desert. FLAG had often used it as a safe house in the past. Michael was slumped in the drivers seat trying to conserve his energy.
"We are at the safe house Michael." K.I.T.T. said gently.
Michael lifted his head, his eyes blurry from the pain and loss of blood. The front of his shirt was soaked with blood.
"Is she in there?" He asked hopefully.
K.I.T.T. scanned the interior of the house.
"I'm picking up one person Michael."
"Let's hope that's her."
The car door opened automatically and Michael staggered out, his legs nearly giving out on him. He fell against the front door and began pounding on it.
The door flew open angrily and Michael nearly collapsed into Billy Campbell's startled arms, his shirt soaked in blood, his face ashen white.
"My God! Michael!" Her initial shock was replaced with disbelief. "What happened?" She pulled his good arm over her shoulder and started ushering him into the house.
"No," he gasped, "Vincent knows where you are,"
"How?"
"Later. Get in the car."
She looked out the door at the black Trans Am parked on the grass just feet away from the door.
"I have to get my things.."
"No! No time."
Billy nodded, guiding him toward the passenger seat but he protested.
"No, the drivers seat."
"You're in no condition to drive."
"Just help me into the car, I'll explain later."
And to her surprise both the driver and passenger doors opened automatically. She eased Michael into the driver's seat and ran around to the other side jumping in. The door automatically closed and the car shifted into gear speeding away from the house, tires squealing as they hit the street. All this without Michael ever touching the controls.
"What's going on?" she panicked. "Who's driving."
"I am." Said K.I.T.T. calmly.
"Who said that?"
Billy searched the car, looking for the third person.
"I did." K.I.T.T. said.
"It', K.I.T.T." Michael said. "We're in good hands."
"I don't understand."
"Let me introduce myself Billy." K.I.T.T. offered. "I am the computerized voice of the Knight Industries 2000, you may call me K.I.T.T. I have control of every aspect of this car when my driver, Michael that is, allows."
Billy stared at the voice panel. "Your car talks?"
Michael nodded.
"Technically Billy," K.I.T.T. corrected, "the car is not talking. I am a highly advanced AI.."
"K.I.T.T. , cut the science lecture until later, huh?"
"What ever you say Michael."
"Where are you taking me?" she asked tentatively.
"To the nearest hospital. Michael needs immediate medical attention."
She looked over at Michael slumped in his seat, his face glistening with sweat and deathly pale, his breathing labored.
"No." He said, his voice barely a whisper. The run to the house had stripped him of his last ounce of strength. "No hospital."
"Are you crazy?" Billy cried.
"No hospital. Vincent will track us down. We have to stay out of sight until the trial.."
"That's eight days away."
"Listen to me," Michael said, "Vincent has connections everywhere. He can trace us through hospitals, clinics, hotels, credit cards, even phone calls. We have to go completely underground."
"Michael," K.I.T.T. said, "I'm afraid he may have infiltrated the Foundation's communications as well. How else would he know where to find us in the desert?"
"This is a nightmare." Billy cried. "I never wanted to be a witness in the first place. And now I'm being hunted like an animal. It's a nightmare!"
Michael suddenly moaned and slumped deeper into his seat.
" Michael!" K.I.T.T. immediately displayed Michael's vital signs on the monitor.
'"What's wrong K.I.T.T.?"
"His vital signs just dropped. He's going into shock."
"K.I.T.T. ," Michael's eyes slid shut. He had no more strength left. He had fought as long as he could. "..take care of her." He whispered, "Promise?"
"I promise Michael... Michael? "
Billy suddenly sat straight up in her seat, "I know someone who can help us. He works at a clinic about fifty miles from here, out in the middle of nowhere." She was surprised at the ease she felt in talking to a computerized car.
"You heard Michael, no hospitals or clinics."
"We have no choice, he needs a doctor. Take the next exit and head South."
The next exit brought K.I.T.T. onto a two-lane dirt road that headed straight into the desert interior. To Billy's surprise and trepidation the car started gaining speed. She watched as the speedometer crept past 100 mph, then 200 mph until it evened off at 235.
"My God, " she gasped, "What kind of car are you?"
"A fast one." KITT said mater a factly.
Billy looked over at Michael. He had lapsed into unconsciousness. He looked so frail and damaged.
"Did Vincent do this to him?" she asked
"Yes." K.I.T.T. said angrily. "He did it to coerce your location from me. If I had not told him your location he was going to kill Michael. Slowly, painfully, while I watched."
Billy heard the pain in K.I.T.T.'s voice, stunned by the depth of emotion.
"You care for him, don't you? But you are just a machine, aren't you? I mean.. a computer can't feel emotion, can it?"
"I am the Knight Industries 2000." K.I.T.T. answered. "I am unlike any other computer in the world. Michael and I have created a very special bond. I would put my life down for him."
"I believe you KITT," she said in awe. "I believe you."

Twenty minutes later K.I.T.T. pulled off the main road and into a small community nestled in the middle of the desert. Aston Heights was one of many small towns that had sprung up in the desert in the -mid fifties.
"Your friend lives here, in the middle of nowhere? What ever for?" K.I.T.T. asked.
"Lyle says he likes the peace and quite out here. He helps out at a small clinic nearby when he's needed. It's that house there." She pointed to a one-story adobe style house and K.I.T.T. pulled into the driveway.
"I have to get off the street." He said as he automatically opened the garage door and pulled in, parking next to a Jeep Cherokee. "I hope your friend doesn't mind the intrusion."
"Well, we're about to find out." She stepped out of the car heading for the door leading into the house. "I've got a lot of explaining to do."
K.I.T.T. waited for what seemed like an eternity. Michael had not moved. His breathing was alarmingly shallow. If Billy could not persuade her friend to help, K.I.T.T. was afraid Michael would not survive.

Lyle Burton didn't quite know what to expect after Billy's hurried explanation. He only knew that a man was badly injured and they were on the run. But he wasn't prepared for the condition of the man slumped in the driver's seat. He stared down at Michael's blood soaked shirt.
"This man needs a hospital." He said.
"I told you, we can't take him there. Vincent will track us down anywhere we go. You have to help us, please."
Lyle ran his hand across his balding head.
"Billy," he said, leaning into the car to check Michael's pulse, "I don't have the equipment here, I need medical supplies, monitors.."
"Perhaps I can be of assistance." K.I.T.T. offered.
Lyle jumped back, startled.
"Who said that?" he demanded looking inside the car.
"I did." K.I.T.T. answered.
Lyle looked back at Billy.
"It's the car." She nodded.
"I am the Knight Industries Two Thousand, K.I.T.T. for short."
"But.."
Michael moaned softly, the pain seeping through even in his unconsciousness state.
"Please Lyle." K.I.T.T. said, "help Michael. He was injured because of me. If he dies I will never forgive myself."
"A talking car? This has to be a joke."
Billy suddenly lost control.
"Does this look like a joke?" Billy demanded pushing past him to open the car door. "Vincent shot him to make K.I.T.T. tell him where I was. And instead of going straight to the hospital where he should be right now, he came to get me before Vincent could. He saved my life and now he's dying. You call this a joke?"
"All right, all right." He agreed reluctantly. "I'll do what I can. Help me get him inside. But you have to understand. I may not be able to help him, he needs the care only a hospital can give him."
"I understand."
"Thank you." K.I.T.T. said.
"This can't be happening." Kyle muttered under his breath, "This can't be happening."
Together they lifted Michael out of the car.

Kyle stood up after his examination.
"Well?" Billy asked.
"I don't know," Lyle said honestly. "I need supplies, monitors."
"Please allow me." K.I.T.T.' s voice emanated from Michael's comlink, "Michael's vital signs are as follows, Blood pressure 70 0ver 40, pulse 30 by palpitation."
"K.I.T.T.?"
"Yes, it's me Lyle. I am programmed to monitor Michael's vital signs at all times.."
"What else are you programmed to do, medical wise I mean?"
K.I.T.T. listed a litany of tests and procedures he could perform.
"We may have a chance after all," Lyle said, impressed. "He's lost a lot of blood. What is his blood type?"
"A Positive."
"OK, this is what I want you to do. Billy, you've got to make sure you keep pressure on that wound. He's already lost a lot of blood. When you can, get his clothes off, cut them off, there are scissors in the drawer over there and keep him as comfortable as possible. K.I.T.T., keep monitoring his vitals." He still couldn't believe he was talking to a car.
"Where are you going?" Billy asked when she saw him pull his car keys out of his pocket.
"To the clinic for supplies. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Be careful. No one can know we're here."
"Don't worry." He leaned down and kissed her on the top of the head, "No one will know, I promise. Now, keep an eye on him."
"I will."

Harold Vincent sat in his plush office staring down at the three fingers of Scotch he had sitting before him. This was his second drink of the day. Too many for him this early. He glanced over at the computer readouts sitting on his desk and his stomach turned. Damn Knight and the Foundation's interference. With all his money, all his connections, he still wasn't able to find Billy Campbell or Michael Knight. He knew he had played his cards right, using Knight to force the car to reveal Billy's location, he just didn't figure they would be able to get to her first. A bad miscalculation.,. He had underestimated them. That wouldn't happen again. His office door opened and Marcy walked in. She had been the perfect bait to trap Knight. He just wished he had killed him when he had the chance.
"Anything?" he asked as he watched her slip into the visitor's seat in front of his desk.
"No. Can I have some of that?" She pointed to the bottle of Scotch.
"Help yourself."
"You know, " she began as she poured herself a generous glass of the expensive Scotch, "Michael Knight was in pretty bad shape when we left. That car of his would have taken him to the nearest hospital."
"That's why we've tapped into every hospital and clinic computer in the state. If anyone fitting Knight's description checks in we'll know it. We also tapped into every pharmacy and lab in the country. If someone tries to treat him we'll know it."
"Maybe he's already dead."
Vincent stared at her, sharing her frustration. "I doubt it. He was able to get to Billy's place. No, he's still alive somewhere. But we'll find him."
"What about the Foundation?"
"We've got them tapped too. If Knight tries to make contact we'll have him."
"Then," she said raising her glass for a toast, "it's only a matter of time before we have them both."
Vincent clinked her glass. "Only a matter of time."

K.I.T.T. sat in Lyle Burton's garage carefully monitoring Michael's vital signs. They remained dangerously weak and he was beginning to have second thoughts about Burton's involvement. He had been gone over two hours and Michael was slipping deeper into unconsciousness. If he didn't return soon he would have to figure some way of getting Michael back in the car and back on the road.
"Billy", he called through his comlink. "How is Michael?"
"He is so still K.I.T.T.." K.I.T.T. could hear the fear in her voice. "He's barely breathing. I'm getting really scared. Where's Lyle?"
."That's a good question. Are you sure we can trust him?"
"I hope so."

Bonnie rushed into Devon's office carrying a sheet of paper. "Billy Campbell's safe house has been compromised."
"What? That safe house has been secure for years." Devon said.
"I know. And look at this." She handed Devon the sheet of paper. "They found bloodstains on the front door and walkway. Preliminary DNA tests show it belongs to Michael."
"Michael?" Devon slammed his hand down hard on the desk shocking Bonnie. She had never seen Devon act out so violently, no matter what the circumstances. "It all makes sense now."
"What?"
"The reason Vincent lured Michael into that trap and why he forced KITT to terminate communications."
"I don't understand,"
"He wanted Michael to reveal the location of Billy's safe house."
"But Michel would never do that."
"No. But K.I.T.T. would."
"Never!" Bonnie suddenly became defensive. "K.I.T.T. would never betray.."
"He would if it meant saving Michael's life."
"No."
"Think about it Bonnie, what would K.I.T.T. do if he were faced with Michael's inevitable death, and he could do something to stop it?"
"His dominate programming is to save lives".
"But Michael's life supersedes everything. Bonnie even without the dominate programming K.I.T.T. has formed a connection that goes far beyond anything we can explain. I believe K.I.T.T. would do anything to save Michael."
Bonnie stared at him, speechless.
"I also believe," Devon continued, "that K.I.T.T. had a plan. To reach Billy Campbell's house before Vincent."
Bonnie stared at Devon realizing he was right. "Do you think they got there in time?"
"I'm sure they did. Vincent enjoys bragging. If he had won we would have known about it by now. No, I think Michael and K.I.T.T. have Billy hidden somewhere safe. I just hope Michael is alright."
"Then," Bonnie said leaning over Devon's shoulder typing a code into the computer, "this makes sense.."
"What is it?"
"Someone has tapped into all the hospitals and clinics in the surrounding three states, also all the pharmacies and medical labs."
"Vincent is looking for Michael."
"That would be my guess."
"Bonnie," Devon said shaking his head, "I fear Michael is in grave danger. I just hope K.I.T.T. can see him through it."

K.I.T.T. heard the garage door open behind him and saw Lyle pull the Cherokee in. He popped the back hatch and jumped out.
"How's Michael doing?" he asked. Lyle still couldn't believe he was talking to a computerized car,
"His vitals are deteriorating rapidly. What took you so long?"
"I needed a lot of equipment and it had to be done with a certain amount of discretion. Tell Billy to come out here and help me with this stuff."
Lyle quickly set up an I.V. line with saline and blood then slipped an oxygen mask over Michael's nose and mouth.
"Where did you get all this stuff?" Billy asked in awe.
"I told you I had friends. But it's not enough. It's not nearly enough. He needs a hospital."
" I know. Do your best."
"OK, let's get started." He handed her a bottle of disinfectant. "Swab his shoulder down with this. Don't be afraid of hurting him, the area has to be thoroughly clean, besides it's going to hurt a hell of a lot more when I start probing for the bullet."
"You don't have anesthetic?"
"That's one thing I couldn't get my hands on. Ready?"
Billy nodded, nervous.
"K.I.T.T., we're going to begin now. I want a constant update on his vital signs."
"I understand Lyle. And Lyle.. Good luck."
"Thanks K.I.T.T.."

Two hours passed before Lyle walked away from Michael's bed.
"Is he going to be all right?" Billy asked. She had never been through such an ordeal before. The blood, the pain. Even though Michael was unconsciousness he still felt pain and it was up to her to hold him still while Lyle removed the bullet.
"Barring infection, and enough rest, he should be fine."
"Thank you."
"I'm going to take a quick shower, then I want to know all about you and Michael and especially that talking car out there. I still don't believe it." He said shaking his head as he headed toward his bedroom. "I still don't believe it."

"Last year I was working at a bar in Fresno," Billy began as she took a sip of cold lemonade sitting on the table in front of her.
Lyle sat back in his chair, clean shaven, what little hair he had left still damp from the shower.
"I was making good money, mostly from tips. A man named Harold Vincent started coming into the bar. He always had three other men with him. They were carrying guns, I spotted them one night hidden under their jackets. I told my boss. He said it was none of my business and to leave them alone. So I did. He would order one drink and nurse it all night and leave without a tip. His friends drank water. I really hated the guy. He had the kind of eyes that drilled a hole right through you. Two weeks went by and I was getting fed up. I didn't care what my boss said, they were taking up a table and that meant no tip money. I almost got up the courage to say something when all hell broke loose, and I mean hell. Four men walked in and the next thing I knew there were bullets flying everywhere. I ducked down behind the bar and prayed. When it was all over everyone was dead except me and Vincent. And do you know what the bastard did?"
Lyle shook his head.
"He dropped a twenty dollar tip on his table and walked out."
"And now this Vincent is after you?"
"Yes." She looked over her shoulder at Michael.
Lyle reached over the table and squeezed her hand, "He'll be asleep for several hours, relax, he's going to be fine. I promise."
She took another sip of lemonade trying to concentrate on her story. "The police questioned me and I went before the Grand Jury. Vincent was indicted for murder."
"And you are the only witness."
"You got it. Vincent is loaded, he's richer then God. He got the best attorneys and posted a whopping bail. There was nothing the law could do. So the District Attorney sent me to the Foundation for Law and Government and that's where I met Michael. They put me up in a safe house and everything was fine until today."
"Vincent must be getting desperate."
"I guess so. The trial starts in two weeks, and without me there is no case."
"And that's why you and Michael are on the run?"
Billy nodded, "We can't trust anyone. But you. He has friends everywhere. That's why the District Attorney sent me to the Foundation, he couldn't trust anyone in his own office."
"Well, you're safe here," he said. "But what about that car? Come on, you don't see a talking car every day."
"I met K.I.T.T. for the first time today too. I knew Michael from the Foundation, but I never saw K.I.,T.T. before. Amazing, isn't he?"
Lyle nodded.
"And he cares so much for Michael.. I know that sounds ludicrous, a computer can't have feelings, but I swear K.I.T.T. was really grieving for Michael."
"I thought I heard emotion in his voice, but no, that's ridicules, he's... It's just a computer." He dismissed the idea, "You look exhausted," he said ushering her toward the living room couch, " you need rest."
"All right, but call me if he needs me."
"I will." he promised, "Now get some sleep."
She nestled into the couch and promptly fell asleep.

Michael thought he heard muffled noises somewhere far away but he didn't have the strength to open his eyes, it wasn't important anyway, nothing was. He felt like he was floating. Then he began to sink, his body growing heavy, so heavy he couldn't even lift his arms. Then he felt the first jolt of hot searing pain in his right shoulder.. Something sharp bit his other arm and suddenly the pain was gone, and he began to float again until he fell into a deep sleep.
K.I.T.T. spent the night monitoring Michael's vital signs. They had stabilized, but the assault on his body had been tremendous and K.I.T.T. wasn't sure if he could recover, not without the support of a well- equipped hospital. Cut off from the outside world as he was he felt helpless. He knew he had done the right thing, obeying Vincent. If he hadn't, Michael would surely be dead by now. But it didn't help relieve the guilt he felt knowing he had refused a direct order from Michael. The first time.. And the last, he hoped.
It had been four days and still no word from either Michael or KITT. Bonnie sat at her computer letting her mind wander back to happier times. It had been many years since she felt the animosity towards Michael that she had developed on their first meeting. Of course he stilled managed to rile her at least once a day, but she had grown to love him, the depth of which she hadn't realized until now. She didn't have enough fingers to count the times she had waited for them to return from an assignment. But they always returned. A little ruffled, a little damaged. But they always returned. But this time was different. This time she had watched Michael suffer at the hands of Vincent, saw him slump to the ground, his shirt soaked in blood, Vincent kicking him viciously. The memory made her angrier than she had ever been in her life.
Devon walked in carrying a file with the Foundation letterhead stamped on the front. He threw the file down on his desk and slumped into his seat. His immaculately tailored suit was a bit disheveled, his hair, always neat and precisely parted was a little messy and his eyes were red rimmed from lack of sleep. "Any news?" he asked, knowing the answer.
Bonnie shook her head.
Devon sat back in his chair and stared at a photo hanging on the wall. An eight by ten of Bonnie and himself standing next to K.I.T.T., Michael sitting on the hood. They were all laughing. . He remembered that day, it was towards the end of a hot summer, Michael K.I.T.T. had just returned from a case and they were celebrating another victory for the Foundation. But the victory felt hollow now. If Michael were still alive, his condition must be grave. And K.I.T.T.. Why had KITT not tried to contact them? It was all so frustrating. He pulled himself back from his reverie and opened the file. "Vincent has gone so far underground no one could find him now." He said looking at Bonnie. She looked tired, he thought, this was taking an emotional toll on everyone..
"I don't understand why Vincent would risk coming out of hiding just to lure Michael into a trap."
"He wanted Billy. Even if he were still in hiding the Grand Jury would still convene and conduct the trail in absentia. Billy would testify and Vincent would be convicted of murder. Without Billy.."
"No witness, no trial." Bonnie turned to stare at Devon, demanding a truthful answer. "Do you think Michael is still alive?"
"I have always known Michael to be a fighter. I haven't given up hope on him yet. And you shouldn't either. I believe Michael is still alive out there somewhere with K.I.T.T. , and they will return to us when they can."
Bonnie nodded and turned back to here computer, she didn't want Devon to see the tears welling up in her eyes. She unfortunately didn't have the same optimism.

For three days Michael had drifted in and out of consciousness. He had been aware at times of Billy hovering over him, talking to him. Now she was sitting next to him on the bed with a bowl of warm soup in her hand.
"Open the hanger, here comes the airplane." Billy giggled. Michael glowered at her. This was his first day of somewhat sustained consciousness and Billy was trying everything she could think of to get him to eat. But the last thing on his mind was food. K.I.T.T. sat in the garage, or so they told him, he was confined to this damn bed, while the hours ticked by, getting closer to the court date and Vincent getting away with murder, literally.
"Come on Michael," she chided, "you have to eat something. You have to get your strength back."
He pushed the bowl of warm soup away, "Maybe later."
"She's right you know," K.I.T.T.'s voice emanated from the comlink, "You do have to eat to get back your strength back."
"I know partner. I'm just not hungry right now."
Billy reluctantly returned the soup to the kitchen.
"K.I.T.T. , "Michael asked, "any luck with your communications?"
"None Michael, I'm sorry."
"Ah, it's not your fault K.I.T.T.. Listen about the other day. You know I didn't mean what I said. I .."
"You said what you meant at the time Michael, and you had every right. But I still believe I made the right decision for both you and Billy."
Michael had to laugh. "Yes you did partner. Yes you did. Now any thoughts on how we can contact Devon?"
"I have exhausted my data banks, and still I have not come up with a workable plan."
"That's OK, we'll figure something out."
Lyle walked into the bedroom amazed to listen to the conversation between Michael and K.I.T.T. . He knew K.I.T.T. was just a computer, but again he thought he detected genuine warmth and concern in K.I.T.T.'s voice.
"Michael, " he said, not wanting to ease drop on their conversation, "You look much better today."
Michael looked up. "Much better, thanks. In fact I think I may be able to get up and move around a little."
"Let's not push it." Lyle warned. "Ah, I couldn't help but overhear some of your conversation. Have you figured a way of contacting your Foundation?"
"Not yet. Vincent will have every phone line, every computer line covered, without KITT's communications intact we are cut off."
"Well," Lyle said, laying a newspaper on Michael's lap, "here is the local newspaper, I thought if you got bored."
Michael looked at the paper and a smile crossed his face, "That's it." He grinned.
"What?" asked K.I.T.T..
"The way we contact Devon."
"I'm afraid you have lost me Michael."
"Me too." Lyle said.
"It's simple. We contact Devon through the want ads."
"I'm sorry Michael, you are still not making any sense."
"Don't worry K.I.T.T.. It will be perfectly clear in a few minutes. Lyle, can you put an add in your local paper?"
"Yes, but.."
"Trust me. Vincent is still headed for a big fall, courtesy of .." he checked the banner name of the newspaper "the Aston Heights Gazette."

Vincent grabbed the phone on the third ring. He looked over at the clock on his nightstand, three A.M.. They must have found Knight and Billy. "Knight?" he asked into the receiver.
A man named Duncan spoke hurriedly over the phone. "We traced a large order of medical supplies ordered from a clinic in Aston Heights, a little town in the desert. I checked their records, they haven't had any emergencies that would require the amount of supplies they ordered.."
"What kind of supplies?" Vincent asked, intrigued.
"Saline, plasma, oxygen, morphine, antibiotics, bandages and the list goes on."
"Sounds like someone was doing some major surgery. On a gunshot victim perhaps?"
"That's what I think Mr. Vincent."
"Good.."

Devon sat at his desk going over Foundation business. Although Michael and K.I.T.T. were paramount in his thoughts he still had obligations which included daily paperwork.
Bonnie rushed into the room startling him. She carried a sheet of paper held high above her head shouting "They're alive. They're alive."
"What on earth has gotten into you?" he demanded. He could see the excitement in her eyes.
"Michael didn't forget my morning ritual."
"What?"
"My morning ritual. I developed a program to check every newspaper's want ads in the country for a 1966 Cobra 427. Michael knows that. He's kidded me about it more than once."
"Bonnie, I fail to see.."
"Look." She set a photocopy of a want ad section in front of him tapping a circled ad. "Read it." She ordered.
"I don't..." he began to protest again.
"Read it, please."
Devon conceded. "Rare 1966 Cobra 427, 2000 miles, Long paper trail, needs minor dash work." Devon stared at the ad not wanting to raise his hopes. "Do you really think.."
"Devon, believe me, it is almost impossible to find a 1966 Cobra with only two thousand miles, and the dash needs minor work? A Long paper trail? Michael Long? It's Michael, it's got to be!"
"Alright," Devon was becoming excited in spite of himself, "Where is this .. " he checked the newspapers banner again, "Aston Heights?"
"It's about fifty miles South of the safe house."
"Alright Bonnie, it's worth a try. Get the semi ready."
"It will be ready with in the hour." Her eyes sparkled as she practically skipped out of the office. Devon looked back down at the paper. It did seem promising, but..

Michael sat at the kitchen table, pacing himself. Lyle had let him out of bed only on his solemn oath that he would return at the first sign of fatigue. He had borrowed a set of clothes from Lyle, luckily they were about the same size. Thankfully he wasn't wearing his favorite black leather jacket when he was shot.
Billy sat across form him pouring three glasses of orange juice. "Drink it, it's good for you." She ordered.
"Billy is right Michael, it has vitamin C and.."
"K.I.T.T. , please. Stop mother henning me!"
"Mother Hen? There are no fowl in this area.."

"K.I.T.T..." Michael warned.
"He has a sense of humor too?" Lyle asked, incredulously.
"He thinks he does."
K.I.T.T.fell silent.
Lyle handed Michael the morning newspaper. "It's in the want ads. Do you really think it's going to work?"
"I hope so. If Bonnie sees the ad she'll know it's me."
"What about Vincent?" Billy asked.
"He wouldn't have a clue."
"I mean the trial." She absently traced circles on the tabletop with her fingernail. "What about the trial?"
"You're going to be there." He promised. "You're going to put him away for life."
"I don't know anymore Michael. I mean, after what we've been through already."
"Billy, if you don't testify he wins. We can't let that happen."
Lyle leaned over the table and grabbed Billy's hand squeezing it. "Michael's right. If he's half as bad as you say he is he has to be taken off the streets. Besides, I've never known you to be a quitter.. "
"Maybe you're right." She looked over to see Michael starting to slump in his chair. "Michael?"
"Hey big guy," Lyle said, grabbing Michael, "It's time for you to get back to bed."
"No, I'm alright."
"Doctor's orders, plenty of bed rest, remember?"

Michael felt someone nudging his shoulder. "Michael, wake up! You have to wake up!"
Michael snapped his eyes open to see Billy hovering over him. Confused, he saw Lyle frantically collecting all the medical supplies and stuffing them into a plastic garbage bag.
"Michael." Billy shook him again, forcing him to look into her face, "Lyle just got a call. Vincent traced the medical supplies to Lyle's supplier. He knows where we are."
Michael quickly sat up moaning from the pain in his shoulder. "How long?"
Lyle looked over his shoulder at Michael, "Thirty minutes."
"OK, we're all getting out of here."
"No," Lyle said, "You and Billy take K.I.T.T. and get as far away from here as you can. If this Vincent character shows up I'll tell him I don't know what the hell he's talking about."
Michael shook his head, "You don't know Vincent."
"I can handle myself." He handed Billy a duffel bag. "Here take this" he ordered. "Medical supplies. Make sure you change his dressings at least four times a day and keep an eye out for infection. Remember what I told you, it's not the bullet that causes the infection, it's the derbies that's shoved in with the bullet. There is more morphine and antibiotics in there too."
Michael struggled to slide off the bed, his injured arm held fast against his chest in a sling. "Lyle, I can't leave you here alone." He said, staggering toward the table.
"You have no choice, " Lyle said, "You two get out of here now. I can handle myself."
Billy hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek. "When this is all over.."
"I know." He said, "Don't worry. Just take care of Michael and make sure you get that Vincent bastard behind bars where he belongs."
"I will. I promise."
"Good, now get out of here."
Billy grabbed the duffel bag and caught Michael under the arm just as his knees startled to buckle. "Not yet. "she ordered., "Come on." She managed to half carry half drag him out into the garage and when she started to guide him toward the passenger side of K.I.T.T. Michael protested. "No, the drivers seat."
"Not this time bucko."
"I'm the driver.. I'm always the driver." he protested.
"Not this time."
"She's right Michael, " K.I.T.T. said, "You are in no condition to be in the driver's seat. Now please, do as you are told for once, and get in."
K.I.T.T. opened the passenger door and Billy eased Michael into the seat then ran around to the driver's side. Even with everything happening it was still a thrill to be behind the wheel.
"OK K.I.T.T.," She said, "Where to now?"
"You are the driver Billy."
"Then let's just boggy." The garage door opened and K.I.T.T. sped out onto the street, tires squealing.
Within minutes they were out of town and back on the open road.
"Any ideas?" she asked.
"We have to head toward Fresno.' Michael said, "We don't have a choice. The trial starts in two days."
"But Vincent will find us."
"I'm hoping my friends find us first. K.I.T.T., plot a course to Fresno. Make it as complicated as you can and still get us there in time."
"Yes Michael, I'm working on it."
Billy looked at him confused.
"Maybe we can buy ourselves some time. It's worth a try."
A map came up on K.I.T.T.'s monitor with a black line zig- zagging across it.
"Michael, this may buy us the time you want but it will take us through the heart of the desert."
"It can't be helped partner."
"What about food and water?" Billy asked.
"There is a small town one hundred and fifty miles from here." K.I.T.T. informed them.
"Alright let's go for it."
Billy stepped on the accelerator and the car surged forward.
"I could get used to this," she said, her eyes sparkling for the first time since Michael had met her.

As they drove she started inspecting the buttons across K.I.T.T.'s dash and the panel above her head.
"Do all these buttons work, or are they just window dressing?" she asked innocently.
"I beg your pardon," a rather irritated K.I.T.T. replied, "everything has a function. And I would appreciate it if you did not touch anything unless you are directed to."
"Oh," she laughed. She turned to Michael, "I think I hurt his feelings."
"
K.I.T.T. has a very thin shell, his feelings get hurt easily. A simple apology works most of the time." Michael said, enjoying the moment of levity.
"I'm sorry K.I.T.T.."
"Apology accepted."

Michael looked out the windshield at the miles of flat desert ahead. Waves of shimmering heat rose off the hot baked sand. Small dust devils formed as the car sped past. "How much longer until we hit this little town of yours?" Michael asked.
"Forty five minutes Michael. And may I suggest in the mean time that you try to get some rest? Your vital signs are.."
"K.I.T.T., please. I can take care of myself."
"If you say so Michael.. It's just your track record.."
"K.I.T.T.!"
"I know, shut up."
Michael nodded.
"Now you've hurt his feelings too." Billy accused. "Poor K.I.T.T. ."
"He'll get over it, won't you Buddy? Buddy? K.I.T.T.? Great," Michael laid his head back against the headrest, "now he won't talk to me either. I tell you, there's nothing worse than a talking car that's giving you the silent treatment."
Billy relaxed back into the plush bucket seat and laughed. It felt good to laugh.
The town of Rio del Agua sat in the middle of the desert, one hundred and fifty miles from the nearest town. The town survived in the sweltering heat of the days and equally hot nights with few amenities. No running water, no electricity. It was a town that time had passed up. The occasional tourist who wandered through stopped at the only store in town. And if they were desperate enough, would pay the twenty dollars for a gallon of bottled water, or the ten dollars a gallon for a fill up at the only gas station in town, powered by an old fashioned hand pump.
"Someone had a warped sense of humor." Michael said.
"Why?"
"Rio del Agua means river of water in Spanish."
As K.I.T.T. slowly drove down the center of the dusty main street Billy stared in awe at the sun faded wooden buildings. "I didn't think towns like this still existed."
Michael looked around.
"You seem nervous, what's wrong?"
"I don't know." He said, "Something doesn't feel right."
"What?"
"I don't know. K.I.T.T. , anything?"
"No Michael."
"Well, keep your scanners peeled. We'll stop at the store over there and get some water and then get out of here."
"All right Michael." K.I.T.T. pulled up to the dilapidated General Store and parked. "Michael, you may need this." K.I.T.T. said and a small stack of twenty dollar bills appeared from a slot in the dash.
"Thanks Pal, good thinking."
Billy stared at the money in Michael's hand. "Can I get some of that too?" she asked.
K.I.T.T. opened the doors and the scorching heat surged into the cabin. Michael struggled out of the car and walked up the two stairs to the screened door leading into the store. The store was dark and sweltering hot. Flies buzzed around their faces and the smell of sweat permeated the wooden walls. A small man, his hair plastered against his face stood behind the counter. "Ah, Senior, Senorita, welcome to Rio del Agua. What can I help you with? Water, food, gas perhaps?"
Michael looked toward the dozens of bottles of water stacked against the far wall.
"Fresh water, Senior, I assure you. I sell it only to our fine guests who visit Rio del Agua."
"How much?"
"Twenty dollars a gallon."
"Twenty dollars!" Billy was ready to rush the small man. "You've got to be kidding."
"A bargain Senorita. Out here water is priceless. Twenty dollars a gallon."
"All right, " Michael said, "Four bottles."
"Four bottles. Si Senior."
The grocer happily set four bottles on the counter. "That will be eighty eight dollars."
"Eighty eight?" Billy felt like ramming the four bottles down the little man's throat.
Michael handed the grocer the five twenties K.I.T.T. had given him and told him, "Keep the change."
"Si Senior, mucho gracias."
Michael grabbed one of the water jugs and Billy labored under three more as they headed out the door. Michael looked down the dusty main street. Something was still gnawing at him, telling him something was not right. He learned over the years to trust his instincts, they seldom proved wrong. Then he knew what it was. The streets were empty. Completely empty. It looked like a ghost town. "Get in the car, quick." He ordered.
KITT automatically opened the doors and Michael flung the water bottle in the back seat and jumped in ignoring the pain in his shoulder. The doors slammed shut and Michael yelled. "Get us out of here K.I.T.T.." K.I.T.T.'s tires spun in the loose sand sending a cloud of dust into the air and peeled away from the store.
"What's wrong Michael?" Billy cried, looking around the deserted streets, "I don't see anything."
"That's just it. There's no one.."
K.I.T.T. suddenly braked sending Michael and Billy forward in their seats.
"What's wrong K.I.T.T.?" Michael looked through the front windshield and saw what prompted K.I.T.T's sudden stop. A large tank like vehicle stood motionless in the center of the road at the far end of the street. "K.I.T.T. , give me a reading. What are we looking at here?"
K.I.T.T. scanned the vehicle quickly. "Michael, it is lead lined and armed with armor piercing missiles."
"Damn. Can you withstand a direct hit?"
"I would rather not find out."
"I hear ya."
"Michael," Billy sat in her seat, grabbing K.I.T.T's steering wheel with shaking hands. "What are you talking about?"
"K.I.T.T. is covered with a molecular bonded shell which is impervious to most weapons. But he is vulnerable to armor piercing shells."
"What are we going to?"
"Michael," K.I.T.T. broke in, "Look behind you."
Michael struggled to turn in his seat and what he saw made his stomach turn. Another tank pulled into sight blocking the other end of the road. "Now what?" Michael asked.
"I was hoping you had an idea Michael." K.I.T.T. said.
Vincent's voice suddenly filled the cabin. "End of the road Knight."

Vincent studied the dust covered Trans Am in front of him. "You're trapped." He gloated. "Give me the girl and I'll let you go. You can't escape you know. I know all about your car's monocular bonded shell and I know it can't withstand my missals. So give it up while you still can. Is she really worth dying for?" Vincent nodded to the weapons operator behind him and ordered, "Give Mr. Knight a little taste of what's to come."
"Yes Sir." The operator grinned.
"Michael, they're firing!" K.I.T.T. warned.
Billy buried her face in her hands and waited.
The missile hit just right of the passenger side rocking the car violently. Billy screamed. Michael cursed as his shoulder bounced against the car seat. He looked out his window to see a large crater formed in the dirt road next to him.
"The next one will be a direct hit." Vincent warned.
"What are we going to do?" Billy cried, her eyes brimming with tears.
"We out run them. That's are only chance."
"But the missiles?"
"Let's hope they are lousy shots."
"Well Knight?" Vincent called from the tank, "What's it going to be? The girl or your life?"
Billy looked over at him, "Michael, I can't ask you to risk your life again. I.."
"Forget it. We're getting out of this together. Besides I still need a good nurse, remember?" Michael studied the age worn houses to his left an idea forming in his head. "K.I.T.T., are any of those houses unoccupied?"
K.I.T.T. scanned the houses. "Yes Michael. The third one appears to be empty."
"Good."
"What are you thinking Michael?" K.I.T.T. inquired, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.
"We need a diversion. "
"Michael, they are getting ready to fire again."
"OK K.I.T.T."
"Michael, do something," Billy pleaded, "anything."
Michael nodded. "K.I.T.T..?"
"Yes Michael?"
"When I give the word I want you to turbo boost straight through that house there."
"Michael, are you crazy?" Billy screamed.
"Trust me. K.I.T.T., are you ready?"
"Yes Michael. And Michael.. if this doesn't work. You are the best pilot any car has ever had."
"Thanks K.I.T.T. , but keep the eulogy to yourself, because this is going to work!"
"Now!" he yelled, and K.I.T.T. dropped into gear veering to the left and straight into the house. Billy ducked her head in terror as the car smashed through the front of the house, glass shattering, the ceiling caving in around them. Michael watched in fascination as the car barreled through the house shoving furniture aside like a snow plow then smashing through a second wall, a bedroom, turning a bureau into kindling before hitting the back wall.
Billy looked back at the house caving in on itself. "Oh my God!" she cried.
"Hold on," Michael yelled, "it's going to get bumpy."
K.I.T.T. sped away from the destruction hitting the unpaved desert. The car quickly gained speed trying to get enough distance between them and the missals. The first missile missed, attracted by the heat from a fire that had ignited in an old stove in the rubble of the house.
The second missile hit its target. The explosion was tremendous as it hit K.I.T.T.'s hatchback, sending the car sailing three feet into the air. Billy screamed, her fingers wrapped around the steering wheel in a death grip. Michael braced himself, waiting for their return to the ground. The car hit the desert sand hard and in the same instant the wheels somehow grabbed enough traction in the desert sand to speed away. Choking smoke filled the cabin from the hole in the hatchback, buttons on the dash blinked erratically. Another missile hit behind them, the concussion throwing Michael against the dash, the passive restraint system disabled in the blast. The car kept moving, gaining more distance between them and the town.
Choking smoke continued billowing into the cabin. Michael pushed himself back into his seat, his shoulder bleeding again his head throbbing from the concussion. Through the smoke he could see Billy, her head glued to the headrest her eyes wide with panic her fingers still wrapped around the steering wheel. .He reached over and tapped her shoulder,
"It's OK." He said, between coughs, "We're all right."
She didn't respond, too terrified. Michael turned his attention to K.I.T.T..
"K.I.T.T.? You OK Buddy?" he had to yell over the sound of the wind screaming over the jagged opening in the hatchback as the car continued speeding over two hundred miles an hour
"K.I.T.T., can you hear me?"
"Yes Michael." Only two bars on the voice box illuminated dimly. "Are you and Billy all right?"
"Yes. Billy's scared, but unhurt. What about you? Give me a systems check."
"I 'm afraid that will be impossible Michael. I have sustained severe peripheral damage."
Michael stared at the lights on the dash blinking erratically. Suddenly he felt terribly depressed. Had Vincent won after all this?
"Michael?" K.I.T.T. asked, his voice weak and hollow.
"I'm here K.I.T.T.."
The smoke had stopped billowing in but the cabin was still filled with the noxious fumes.
"K.I.T.T., are your smoke scrubbers working?"
"Negative Michael."
"Can you open the windows?"
"I can try Michael, but I may not be able to close them again. In this heat.."
"We don't have a choice Pal, we'll die of smoke inhalation."
"I'll try." The windows slowly rolled down, the searing desert heat washing in over Michael, taking his breath away. The incoming wind drove the smoke out through the hatchback and Michael yelled,
"Can you close them again?" The windows didn't move.
"Sorry Michael."
"Don't worry about it Pal, we'll deal with it. What about the rest of your systems?" Michael waited for what seemed an eternity before K.I.T.T reported back,
"All systems failing or already shut down. I'm sorry Michael, I have failed you."
"No you haven't K.I.T.T . We're still alive, right?"
"Right."
"Then we still have a chance." Michael tried to reposition himself in the seat but the movement brought searing pain to his shoulder forcing a gasp from his lips.
"Michael, you have injured your shoulder again."
"It's all right K.I.T.T... Look," he said, glancing down at his watch/ comlink, "It's been fifteen minutes since we left Rio del Agua, at our current rate of speed that makes us about fifty miles away. How much longer do you think we can sustain this speed?"
"Not much longer, I'm afraid. I believe I am leaking fuel. It maybe only minutes."
"Great," Michael hissed, "Great."
"What are we going to do, Michael?"
"I don't know K.I.T.T.. Vincent will be after us any minute now, you can bet on that." Michael looked up through the Tee Top at the blazing sun overhead. It was not even noon yet and the temperature was well over one hundred, if Vincent didn't get them first the heat would.

The knight Industries semi barreled down the desert road at eighty miles an hour, sand and dust billowing around it like smoke. They had been on the road for six hours. They had found Lyle Burton's house empty and ransacked. Vincent had definitely been there. Then word came through that there was missile fire in a small town called Rio del Agua and a black car had demolished a house. That had to be K.I.T.T..
Bonnie made her way back from the cab of the semi to the trailer.
"We are thirty minutes away from Rio del Agua." She informed Devon.
Devon slowly replaced the phone on it's cradle, his face ashen white. "Damn them, damn them all to hell." He said looking up at Bonnie.
"Is it Michael?" She asked. Her heart skipped a beat each time the phone rang. She knew in her heart that every passing hour that Michael remained missing reduced his chances of returning to her alive. "Have they found him?"
Devon shook his head. "No, that was the state department informing us that they no longer require our services. The Grand Jury has just handed down a verdict of guilty in the Vincent murder case.. in absentia."
"But I thought they needed Billy's testimony.."
Devon ran his fingers through his silver-gray hair trying to find some justification in the State Departments actions. "It was a ruse, Bonnie. A ruse the whole time. They had another witness under wraps. They didn't want Vincent to know so they set Billy up. And Michael."
"My God." Bonnie leaned against the trailer wall, letting the information sink in. They had used the Foundation, and in turn Michael, all for nothing. Anger welled up in her. They had taken the only man she truly ever loved and used him like a puppet to draw Vincent away from his real target. She looked down at Devon, he had aged in the last week. Michael had become the son he never had. Their friendship had developed into a tight bond of trust and loyalty, and now he faced losing him.
"Michael may be dead, and for what?" Devon sat back in his chair, fighting back the tears that welled up in his eyes, "For what?" he demanded.
Despite her own feelings of despair and hopelessness she couldn't stand to see Devon slip into the same depression. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, "We can't give up hope yet, you said so yourself. Michael's a fighter."
"Yes my dear, " he patted her hands, "you are right. But I'm afraid even Michael may not be able to work his way out of this one."
"Devon, please."
Devon sat up, regaining his composure, fighting back against the feelings of hopelessness and defeat. "You are right my dear. Until we know for certain, we will work on the assumption that Michael and K.I.T.T. are still alive."

Michael held on to the hand bar on K.I.T.T's door with his good arm for dear life as the car sped across the desert floor at over two hundred miles per hour. The tires bounced over ruts and bottomed out in holes, sailing into the air only to return to the hard packed ground with a spine -crunching thud. His injured shoulder exploded with searing pain, the hot wind hitting his face like a blast furnace threatened to take his breath away. He didn't know how much more he could take before he lost his fight to stay consciousness. He glanced over at Billy. She stared straight ahead, her hands still wrapped around the steering wheel in a death grip.
"Are you still with me K.I.T.T.?" he shouted over the sounds of the hot winds streaming through the open windows.
"Yes Michael, barely." K.I.T.T.'s voice no longer registered on the dash's voice box..
"How much longer?"
"A few miles, then my fuel will be exhausted."
Michael looked through the cracked windshield at the miles of flat shimmering desert. No cover, no place to hide from Vincent. Michael knew Vincent was out there, searching. But he would take his time, no hurry now. In a way Michael hoped he would hurry up and get it over with.
Suddenly the engine sputtered.
"K.I.T.T.?" Michael searched the dash for any signs of life. "K.I.T.T., are you still with me?"
"Yes.. Michael.." the voice sounded tinny, far away. "I have run out of fuel. I'm sorry."
"It's OK Pal, you did your best. We all did. Do you have any idea where we are?"
"Negative. Michael.. do you think Bonnie got your want ad message?" The car dropped speed rapidly.
"I hope so Pal, I hope so." Michael watched as the scenery that had a moment ago been a blur took shape as the car slowed. . Nothing but flat scorched earth in every direction. They didn't have a chance in hell of surviving in this inferno. A half -mile later the car rolled to a complete stop. Billy slowly turned her head toward Michael, the fear in her eyes replaced by a look of acceptance.
The interior of the black car was stifling. Michael pushed the passenger door open and fell to the hot sand on his knees.
"There's shade over here," he called, his voice raspy from fatigue and lack of water. The four bottles of water they had bought back in Rio del Agua were destroyed when the missile hit. Billy made her way around the car and dropped down next to Michael. She looked at his shoulder, his shirt bloody again.
"You're bleeding again." She said.
"It doesn't matter." His fight was all but gone. They were stuck in the middle of nowhere with Vincent only minutes away, and he had lost K.I.T.T.. There was nothing left.
"We're not dead yet." She said tearing away his good sleeve to use as a compress, "didn't you say that to me a little while ago?"
He closed his eyes against the pain and the glaring sun. "It's no use. I'm sorry Billy."
"You and K.I.T.T. did everything humanly possible."
"Not enough.." he mumbled.
She laid back against the car, threading her fingers through Michael's. He was right, there was no use.
She wondered if Lyle was alright? He had taken a big chance helping them. And for nothing.. now.
Suddenly the wind picked up forming small twisters in the sand. The scream of rotary engines deafened them.
Michael struggled to stand up as he watched a jet powered helicopter hover and land three hundred feet from them. Four men with rifles jump out followed by a grinning Howard Vincent.
"Nice try Knight." He called as the blades slowed down. "You almost made it. Too bad almost doesn't count."
Michael took a step forward, adrenalin pumping new strength into his body. "You won't get away with this you know. My people will find you. They'll hunt you down every minute of your life. You'll wish you were dead instead of us."
"Very funny Knight. Oh, and by the way, I'm truly sorry about the car. It was one of a kind."
Michael took another step forward. Billy caught his good arm.
"Shall we get this over with?" He turned to the four gunmen, "It's too hot out here."
Michael suddenly saw a speck of black coming towards them behind the helicopter. He couldn't believe his eyes, it was the semi!
The gunmen raised their guns, execution style.
"No wait," Michael yelled. "I need to do one thing first."

"What's that?"
"Say goodbye to K.I.T.T.. Please."
"You're kidding, right?"
Michael shook his head starting to step toward the back of K.I.T.T.. "Just a couple of minutes."
Vincent laughed, "I don't believe it. Alright Knight, say goodbye to your precious car."
Michael grabbed Billy's arm and pulled her with him.
Billy tried to pull her arm loose, "Are you crazy?"
"When I yell" he whispered, "hit the ground."
"What?"
"Just do it!" he hissed.

The semi was close enough to see the cab in detail. Suddenly the sound of it's engines reached them. Vincent and his men whirled around, astonished.
Michael yelled, "Hit the ground!" and he threw himself against Billy propelling her behind the car.
Vincent's men turned their rifles on the semi. The bullets bounced off the truck harmlessly. The gunmen panicked trying to climb back into the helicopter at the same time.
The semi sped toward them.
"Get out!" Vincent yelled, "They're going to ram the 'copter!"
They jumped away just as the huge truck slammed into the helicopter's tail tearing the rotor off.
They scattered in every direction.
One of his own men ran into Vincent knocking the gun out of his hand. .
Michael stood up and staggered toward Vincent. He dropped to his knees grabbing the gun out of the sand aiming it up at Vincent, his hand shaking..
"How does it feel to be on the other end, huh?" He growled. "How does it feel? Answer me!"
Devon and Bonnie jumped out of the semi following six Foundation agents. The agents quickly circled Vincent's gunmen. Michael held the gun on Vincent, his trigger finger trembling.
"Michael no!" Devon yelled. "Don't do it. Let the law punish him."
Michael shook his head slowly, "Not this time. He's hurt too many people."
"Michael, please," Bonnie walked toward him, holding out her hand for the gun. "This isn't the way. You won't be able to live with yourself if you did this."
"Listen to Bonnie, Michael," Devon implored.
"She's right Michael." K.I.T.T. 's weak voice emanated from his comlink.
"KITT?!"
"Yes Michael. Give Bonnie the gun. It's over."
Emotion, fatigue and pain overcame him and he dropped the gun. Bonnie and Billy caught him as he started to fall face forward and laid him gently on his back.
Michael looked up at Bonnie and Devon hovering over him.
"You found us." He said, his voice only a whisper.
"I told you my 1966 Cobra 426 was worth looking for." Bonnie laughed, tears starting to stream down her checks. It was over.
Michael smiled, his eyes sliding shut. At last he could rest in safety. He felt Billy squeezing his hand. They had made it.

Michael spent a week in the hospital while Bonnie worked on K.I.T.T.. Vincent was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole and sent to a maximum security facility.

Michael walked into the Foundation garage still feeling weak, his arm supported in a sling. To his surprise he found Lyle and Billy standing next to a completely healthy K.I.T.T..
"What are you guys doing here?" he asked.
"They came to welcome you home," Bonnie said as she poked her head out from beneath K.I.T.T., her cheek smudged with grease.
"Yes in deed, " Devon said walking into the garage. "It is quite a homecoming. It's good to have you back Michael."
"It's good to be back, believe me." Michael walked over to K.I.T.T. and sat in the driver's seat. "How are you feeling Pal?" he asked.
"Fine Michael. Better than ever in fact. Bonnie made a few minor improvements to my systems. I can't wait until you're well enough so we can get back on the road."
"Me too Pal."
"And you," he held out his hand to Lyle, "I don't know how to thank you."
"Don't bother. I had an adventure of a lifetime. Besides, how else would I have met a talking car, especially one with a sense of humor."
"Thank you Lyle." K.I.T.T. said, "At lest someone appreciates my finer qualities."
Michael patted K.I.T.T.'s dash, "We all appreciate you K.I.T.T. , more than you will ever know."
Bonnie pulled Devon aside, "You didn't tell Michael about the State Department?"
"Not yet. Let him heal first. When's he's emotionally ready I will tell him. For now let's just enjoy his homecoming."
Bonnie nodded.
"I almost forgot," Bonnie said walling behind K.I.T.T., "Pop the hatch K.I.T.T.."
"Of course, Bonnie."
Bonnie reached in and pulled out a chocolate covered cake with 'Welcome Home Michael' written on top.
"It's your favorite Michael, chocolate with whipped cream filling."
"I was the one who suggested the whipped cream filling." K.I.T.T. offered.
"Thanks Pal."
"It's good to have you back Michael." Bonnie said.
"It's good to be back.."
He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, a little longer and a little more heartfelt than usual. "Thanks Bonnie."
Bonnie smiled. It was good to have him home.