Christine Rides Again

Chapter 4; Reassurance

Darnell's do it yourself garage had been boarded up since the death of Will Darnell. It was nothing but a derelict building that would most likely never see the light of day again. Good. Dennis had never liked the man, or his shady business exchange. He'd heard many stories from the time his father had worked for the man, and witnessed the horror first hand as he watched Arnie take the man's offer. He hadn't felt even a twinge of sadness when he heard about the murder, but it wasn't something he'd have wished on Darnell. Or anyone. As much as Buddy Repperton and his gang of thugs had been assholes, he had never wished death upon them. It wasn't his place to want someone to live or die. All he remembered feeling after the news was broken to him, was fear. He'd been afraid that it would be his name in the headline next, or Leigh's, with a passage about a ‘58 Plymouth Fury being at the scene.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Leigh asked for the hundredth time since they'd left his home.

“I have to.” He stated, drawing in a deep breath.

Dennis took a step towards the junk yard gates, and then hesitated as he glanced over at Leigh. Making his mind up, he took her hand and intertwined their fingers, then continued forward, with her keeping a steady pace beside him. His grip tightened as they reached the spot they'd stood, watching as Christine was crushed, less than a month ago, and he laid eyes upon the remains of the ‘58 Plymouth Fury.

“See?” Leigh sighed. “As dead as a doorknob, exactly how we left her.”

“Yeah.” He agreed, letting his hand slip from hers as he cautiously started towards the remains of Christine.

“Dennis, what are you doing? Don't go near that thing.”

But he was already there, and waved her concerns away with his hand. Leigh rolled her eyes, and looked on elsewhere before deciding to check out what was left of the rest of the garage. Dennis didn't notice as she trailed away, his focus remained on the remains. All that was left of the car was a cube of dirtied autumn red and dusty white, and the front grille, the silver slowly starting to rust, all squished together like Chinese food in a tupperware tub, and bent so far out of shape that if one were to see it for the first time, they'd never guess that it used to be a an evil Fury.

“I knew it.” He laughed humourlessly. “You see, Chrissy… how easy it was to crush you. Arnie had his whole life to live and you stole it, and many others too, but you can't hurt anyone now. You're nothing but a big block of scrap metal. A hunk of junk.” He mocked.

Despite having seen her, or what was left of her, Dennis still felt unsatisfied. All the evidence he needed was right in front of him, but it wasn't enough. It didn't ease his anxiety in the slightest.

“You can't hurt anyone anymore.” He said, more to convince himself than to gloat. “I can prove it.”

Taking in a breath and holding it, he reached out a shaky hand and patted the compressed cube, running his fingers along the rough surface and over the jagged edges. As he made contact with the left corner, his finger slipped and the sharp edge sliced straight through his skin.

“Ah!” He hissed, pulling his hand back and glaring at the remains of the car as though it were a dog that had just bitten him. “Nope. That wasn't you. That was my clumsy ass.”

Though he was unconvinced, he shook the thought away and examined his bleeding finger. The cut wasn't deep, but it stung and was beginning to throb, making him uncomfortable. He wiped the blood off on his jeans, and ignored the pain as he looked around the rest of the yard, only now realizing that Leigh was no longer behind him.

“Leigh?”

“Sorry, I was just wandering the yard.” She said as she crept back over to the remains of the car. “Are you done having verbal sex with Christine yet?”