General Lee's Revenge

Chapter Eleven: Wilma

Bo lifted his head from the ground. The sun was shining and all was quiet. As he pulled himself out from underneath the General Lee, he felt a searing pain shoot through his torso. He grimaced and looked down to see a sharp piece of wood protruding from his side. Blood dripped slowly from the wound. He drug himself up onto his feet, using the car to balance himself. He grabbed the piece of wood, pulling as hard as he could. The wood wouldn't budge.

"C'mon," Bo hissed quietly.

He switched the position in which he held the wood, trying one more time. The piece slid out slowly and immediately blood began gushing from the wound. Bo cursed under his breath, feeling suddenly lightheaded. As the wood fell to the ground, he turned his gaze forward, finding a single set of footprints in the building's ashes. They belonged to Hughie Hogg, no doubt. Bo took a deep breath, trying to ignore all the pain, and began to track the footprints into the woods.

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Christine and Stripes followed Thunder and Trigger through the woods. It was cold and windy as they made their way. Christine, surefooted as ever, made her way through easily. Trigger and Stripes, on the other hand, became stuck nearly several times. By the time they reached their destination, Christine was the only one not covered in mud up to her fenders.

"Are we there yet?" Stripes grumbled annoyedly.

"Yes, we're here, this's the place," Thunder replied, going off to look for anyone who might still be around.

"He feels pretty bad about all this, doesn't he?" Christine asked, rolling up to Trigger.

"Yeah... it's eatin' him up inside. I don't know what to do. To be honest, he kinda scares me when he gets like this. Like, once he sets his mind to somethin', there's nothin' that can get him away from it," Trigger explained.

"I feel worse for calling him out to the junkyard. If only I'd asked General what he was doing before I did that, maybe none of this would've happened."

"That wasn't your fault, you had no way of knowin'."

Just then, Thunder honked his horn twice. "Over here!"

They immediately rushed over to see what he'd found, only, to their dismay, to find for themselves a wrecked car. The General Lee had been burned badly. His top was dented, the paint all scorched. His windows were cracked and blackened from the flames and soot. His tires were flat, hood was twisted, and the side mirror was broken off.

"No... he... can't be dead. Thunder... tell me he ain't dead," Trigger rumbled softly.

"I'm... sorry... Th-this is... hhh... this is all my fault," Thunder whispered.

He sank a little, an oily substance rolling down his fenders from the corners of his windshield.

"Not the way I'd want to go, that's for sure," Stripes chimed in.

Christine turned to him. "Shut up, just... shut up! You never liked General to begin with, so you just shut up! You don't have an ounce of decency in you, huh Stripes?"

"Oh come on, I didn't mean it like that!"

"Why don't you just get out of here, or do you have some other little comment to add?"

"Chrissy, please, I'm sorry."

"No! Get out of here! I should've known you'd be jealous of me and General. Of course, after what we went through together, I should've known better than to think that we could just be friends. You've always been jealous because you wanted me all to yourself!"