by: Chet Duke
Another Day
It had been a long two weeks of healing, but finally the young outlaw Duke boys strength had begun to return with brute force. He was now practically 10 pounds heavier then he had been when he’d returned to Hazzard, an more healthy then he could ever remember being. Even as his body often reminded him of the beating, an his skin scabbed over an had begun to scar.
The last two weeks hadn’t been an entire waist of time, he’d made a trip to Atlanta, first to the impound yard to survey the goods. Eight impounded Mercedes, an two brand new Hummers would be his comrades first strike. Then he had stopped at the DMV an purchased a list of three locally owned 2005 Mustangs. Everything was turning up perfectly, if all went as he planned he’d be right in step with his Squad.
That Friday afternoon, he found himself dressed, fully prepared as he had been trained to be an ready to face up with Monty. Cooter returned to the garage after going to a tow job to find his young friend dressed in fresh clothes, that series, alert stiffness in his spine. Chet had told him that he would not be staying in Hazzard, that it was important that he return to New York with his squad.
Chet turned to the elder man, the mechanic had saved his life. With a deep breath Chet with drew a small present from his pocket an presented it to his friend.
“Cooter, no one has done anything for me like you have. An I want you to have this.” The young duke placed a silver belt buckle in his friends palm. The buckle had a bucking bull on it an read ‘County Fair Junior All Around Cowboy.’
Cooter looked down at the gift in his hand, his eyes burned with tears. He hated to see the young man leave, but there was nothing he could do, a man had to make his own choices and his own paths in life. He stepped forward swallowing hard as he embraced the younger man in a brief hug.
“You come back here…. an see me if you ever need a place to go. An take care of yourself. Ya hear.”
Chet nodded an patted the older mans back. “I will…. thank you Cooter.” He turned to leave an paused. “Tell your cousin Hilery, no hard feelings.” He grinned faintly an left the garage, starting to make his way down the side walk to where his orange Charger lay hidden under a tarp in the alley.
“That’ll be twenty dollars and eighty-six cents, Bo,” the elderly grocer says after bagging the goods he had been sent into town to retrieve in order for his wife to make him his favorite meal. Bo nods silently as he digs into his leather wallet to retrieve the exact amount of change that had been asked for.
“There you go Charles,” Bo grins at the family friend who silently counts the money before sorting it out for the cash register, “what ya know? The exact change and everything. Must be my lucky day.”
“Gotta be,” Charles smiles at the tall muscular Duke as he lifts the bag of groceries off of the counter, “you take care now.”
“Sure thing, you too,” Bo flashes another grin at the grocer before stepping out into the brisk afternoon day. For a moment, Bo watches people milling around the town square with the bright sun shining upon the green grass, taking in the day’s beauty.
Taking a deep breath, Bo quickly turns around when he is abruptly bumped into by a heavy and solid force. A brief flood of anger rushes through him as the bag breaks upon impact and everything rolls and splatters upon the muddy cement.
“You have a lot of -” he cuts himself off as his elderly uncle’s wisdom seems to wash through him, calming his Duke temper. “I’m sorry,” he takes a deep breath as he takes in the black haired man that he had ran into. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Is all that Bo could think of to say as the man’s dark black hair sends his memory recoiling into the past, before his son had disappeared. Sadness once again grips a tight hold upon him at seeing the dark hair, at being reminded of his son and what may have been if only he hadn’t been sent to the grocery store. “You OK?” Bo manages to ask, hiding his emotions.
In his rush to get to his concealed car, Chet had accidently bumped into the blond haired man that he hadn’t seen until it was too late. He stooped down to retrieve the rolling groceries an hand them back to there owner, only to stop as there eyes met.
His onyx brown eyes, deep an dark gazed into those elder blue eyes painfully remembering them like it was only yesterday that he’d been snatched away. His strong jaw tightened as he recognized his father, it had been eight long years since he’d seen his flesh an blood.
“Nah… its alright. Entirely my fault.” He said in a calm voice.
This man didn’t need to know who he was, where he’d come from or anything of the sort. An aching in Chet’s chest, pushed an pressed his cold heart, encouraging him to turn an keep walking. But he just stood an stared, unable to keep from gazing. A natural human longing holding him in place a bit longer.Bo stood there momentarily, taking in the young stranger while holding tightly onto memories of the past. Ever since his son’s disappearance half of him has been lost in the past, living on old memories while the other half thinking of what could have been today. Not a day had went past without him thinking of his son, wondering if he’s dead and if not, what all he had to go through.
“It’s OK…accidents happen,” Bo nods at the stranger in appreciation as he grabs a hold of the last bit of grocery. Boy was he going to get it when he gets home and tells his wife that all his shopping was for nothing. For a bunch of items with mud all over it.
“Yeah…. they do.” Slowly Chet nodded, his gaze still captivated by those capturing blue eyes.
He swallowed an tore himself away, glancing around an regaining his demeanor. A job needed to be done, an although the warmth of a human soul tempted to ache him he would not speak to his father as his son. Chet tipped his hat to the older, blond haired man.
“Again, my apologies.” Knowing he’d later regret it, he took one last look at his father. His flesh an blood standing right there before his very eyes. Then he turned away an continued to walk down the side walk, feeling the coldness of a criminal, a outlaw return to his body thickly.
Bo watched as the kid walked away down the side walk while momentarily still lost in thoughts of his lost son. A brief moment passes before a kid on a skateboard brushes past him, bringing him back to reality. Shaking his head in grief for a moment, Bo slowly carries his bag to his car, where he had originally been heading towards. The young, outlaw Duke entered the alley an turned on his heal as he rounded the corner an waited patiently with his back against the wall. His heart like a jack hammer inside his chest pounding against his ribs from inside out. He waited a few long moments then peered around the corner, watching the elder blonde haired Duke get into his car an pull away.
Once the older Duke had disappeared from sight, Chet quickly pealed back the tarp covering his orange Charger that Cooter had thankfully hidden. He slide through the drivers window an into the seat, moving slowly an very tenderly. His back still very sore an sensitive to touch and movement of his taught muscles.
The screech of the Chargers tires and the roar of the engine caused everyone near the side walk to turn an look in the beasts direction. There attention on the roaring car was only momentary, it wasn’t unusual for a loud engine to be heard in the town.
It didn’t take long to get to the outskirts of the western ghost town, the old buildings came into view from a hill top miles before its actual decent into town. Long before the mouth of the main street, Chet pulled the car off into a small shell of trees an proceeded to carefully hide the orange Charger. Branches, leaves an brush would act as a blanket to keep the car out of site for now until he’d need it.
The sun was growing high in the early morning as Chet made his way stealthily through the forest of trees, the heavy bed of damp leaves on the floor of the forest aided his approach on the town. His keen senses were on full alert to every sound, an his eyes intent on the view of the town that lay before him.
He came to the edge of the forestry an ducked into the brush to survey the area. The town by all means was no longer vacant, familiar comrades of his mingled in an out of the ancient building, laughing an talking. Slowly he took not of the number of men, take a head count of rank an command. Chet counted 14 visible men, which had to mean there were two squads there, his and another that must have come in while he was at Cooters in town.
The young Dukes dark eyes suddenly flashed as he saw Monty enter the old saloon, seconds later two 1st class Privates from the adjoining squad came scrambling out of the saloon. Obviously the Corporal wanted the saloon all to himself. A tight bare of gritted teeth pulled at Chet’s lips, Monty would pay for what he had done, an Master Sergeant Blazer would accept him back.
With revenge now set on his mind, his brow furrowed into boiling anger. Chet began creeping through the alley between the buildings, moving with stealth an caution. He managed to make his way to the rear of the saloon, his heart jack hammered in his chest an his eyebrows flicked as he spotted the stairs up to a window on the side of the saloon.
He ascended the steps skipping two or three at a time an then crawling through the broken window at the top that led into one of the many old rooms in the building. Chet knew it was gonna take some fancy foot work to walk across the old floor without it creaking an giving him away. First he tip toed across the thin edge of the windowsill an stepped down onto the ancient bed an walked down it to the end. For a moment he paused gazing around, there was no other way, he’d have to walk across the floor. Slowly Chet stepped down from the bed, keeping his knees slightly bent an making sure that his cowboy boots touched down slowly and softly.
His slow an careful movements payed off an he was able to make his way across the floor an out the open room door to the railing of the stairs looming over the bar. Chet’s brow furrowed an tightened to match the grit of his teeth in anger as he peered down into the bar room. There sat Monty at one of the many round tables, sitting back in the chair with his feet up on the table top. The Corporal sat looking pleased with himself as he gulped down drink after drink.
Chet watched from above, his dark eyes beaming down at the man that had brutally beaten and whipped him nearly to death. Gritting his teeth he stayed kneeled beside the railing, waiting patiently for just the right moment to spring on the officer. Finally after long minutes of waiting, Monty stood an walked over to the bar counter to get another bottle of liquor.
The young Duke sprang up from his kneeling position behind the railing an drew his hunting knife with one hand an dropped down over the railing. His boots made a heavy SMACK onto the surface of the bar counter as he landed on his feet knife in hand. The sudden appearance of the younger man made a look of shock an terror slip onto Monty’s face. He’d assumed that the 1st Class Specialist would not have survived the treacherous whipping an beating he’d given him.
“CHET!” Monty gasped as he came face to face with the dark eyed Duke.
Chet’s eyes flashed in anger an he wordlessly thrust the knife into the center of the Corporals chest. Impaling the it to the silvery metal hilt, blood immediately spewed from around the impaled blade. In a deep state of shock the Corporal grasped the handle of the knife an stepped back stumbling an collapsing to the floor on his back. Chet jumped down from standing on the bar, his boots thudding onto the plank floor, an cloud of dust puffed from it as he make contact.
“Surprise Corporal!” The words snarled from Chets lips as he stooped down an yanked the knife from the dying officers chest.
He slowly wiped the blood from the knife off onto Monty’s shirt an untied the older mans maroon bandanna from around his neck which indicated his rank. A thick streak of blood oozed from the corner of the Corporals mouth as his sickly yellow eyes glazed over an a deep squeeze of breath escaped his body for the last time.
Chet stood an removed his own faded yellow bandanna from his neck that had indicated that he was ranked as a 1st Class Specialist. He replaced his bandanna with the Corporal’s maroon bandanna, tying it snugly around his neck as he stepped over the still body on the floor. His insides swelled with pride in what he had done, he’d used what he’d been trained to use an he had taken back what he saw fit to be his. And he had successfully claimed a higher rank, by rule of the Ranch an Chain of Command, any officer killed by a lower rank is subject to the higher rank.
Feeling pleased with himself an knowing that someone probably heard Monty’s holler of his name he took a seat at the round table in the former Corporal’s place. Chet poured himself a drink from the freshly opened liquor bottle an sipped it as he raised his feet up onto the surface of the table. Heavy thuds of booted feet carried down the wooden planked board walk towards the batwing doors of the saloon. The doors slapped each other as the 1st Class Sergeant Cait stepped through the door’s with a 1st Class Private named Neil Thurston at her right elbow.
“Well look what the wind blew into…..” The 1st Class Sergeant stopped in mid sentence, her toxic looking green eyes seeing the body of the Corporal on the floor laying in a pool of his own blood. “…wind dragged in.” She cleared her throat, Monty had been a hell of a tough man an butchered many to take his rank as Corporal. “Welcome back….Corporal Chet Duke.”
Chet tipped his hat an sipped his drink. “Thank you 1st Class Sergeant Cait Tartaro.” A grin curled his upper lip cruelly.
Seeing the pleased grin decorate his face the 1st Class Sergeant sauntered into the bar room stepping over the body on the floor. She smiled her own coy twisted grin, she could clearly read the pride an boldness in the young mans demeanor. Although she believed he had right too, he had deserved a percentage of the punishment he’d taken for running away.
She approached him with an almost lustful an evil smile as her hand smoothed over the back of his strong broad shoulders. Chet’s eyes an ears stayed alert to her movement watching her as she stepped behind him an slide her hands over his shoulders. The warmth of her hands relaxed his tenseness momentarily an she quickly took advantage of the brief seconds he let his guard. She clasped her hand on his throat pinching his jugular between her thumb an forefinger firmly.
Chet gasped an gripped the side of the table with both hands holding onto the pine table top until his knuckles turned white. He knew better then to struggle an it took a great amount of control to hold back an resist the tremor of panic throbbing down his spine.
“Don’t get cocky Corporal…. your still a student…..just like me.” She warned in a sneer holding his throat only tight enough for his body to react fearfully. The 1st Class Sergeant smoothed her free hand down the other side of his chest feeling the well defined muscles an his throat whispered with every breath he tried to take. “Remember your place.”
Faintly he nodded in reply an she released his throat allowing him to take in air. The 1st Class Sergeant walked around the table, her toxic green eyes still trained on him. “Were pulling out to do the job at 1300 hours….be ready, do not defy these orders…or Blazer will kill you.” The ancient batwing doors slapped each other as she left sauntering her long attractive legs down the board walk.
***5 Hours Later. [1800 hours]***
The bright orange Dodge Charger slide side way an quickly came to a halt as the three other modern cars continued ahead merging onto the highway North bound. As the Georgian dust cleared the driver slide from the drivers seat to comfortably sit on the door frame of the old stoke car. He rested his elbows on the roof of the car an gazed back at the Hazzard County road behind him.
The anger an emptiness wailed up in Chet an he gritted his teeth, the memory of those blue eyes staring back at him innocently. And the faint memory of that familiar voice rang in his ears, a small sob came from deep in his chest an he couldn’t hold it back. Why… why hadn’t his father managed to find him so many years ago. Chet thought to himself, his blood boiled as the only answer surfaced to his mind. The elder Duke didn’t care, he didn’t care what had become of his son who had been lost to the world for 8 long an pain filled years.
Over come by his temper over whelming his ache of emotion he slide back into the drives seat an tore out of the dirt an onto the high way headed north. Back to everything he could ever remember, back toNew York an the excuse for the life he had there.
***Ghost Ryder Ranch, New York. The next morning.***
“Corporal!” Blazer bellowed upon approaching the young Duke at work.
Quickly Chet dropped his old saddle to the ground beside his dapple grey Thoroughbred that he was preparing to tack. He quickly stood at attention an saluted the higher ranking officer respectfully. Blazer stepped up to face the younger man saluting only after Chet had fully taken his stance.
“At ease Corporal.”
Sighing Chet relaxed an patted some dust from his shirt.
“Your summed to Lt. General Alex Nadel’s office Corporal.” Blazer turned an walked past him beginning to make his way towards the bunk house.
“Yes Sir.” Chet stooped down to pick his saddle up an finish tacking his horse.
“NOW! Corporal.”
The dark haired Duke muttered defiantly an slung the saddle over the fence an mounted the tall dapple grey horse an galloped the long legged animal across the drive to the office. He quickly slid from the horses back leaving the long reins hanging over the horses neck as he jogged up the steps an into the office. Feeling slightly nervous he approached the secretaries desk an stood before it with a strait back but not saluting.
“Reporting as requested by Lt. General Alex Nadel mam.”
The secretary nodded an pointed at the door. “He’s waiting for you Corporal, go in.”
Chet nodded an took a deep breath feeling a little nervous as he entered the Lt. General’s office an abruptly saluted the high ranking man. “Reporting as requested Sir!”
The Lt. General sat in his chair doing paper work as the young man came in an saluted formally as each were required to do. Lt. General Alex Nadel sat with stern brown eyes, his jaw hardened an firm from years of command behind defiant an hardened young men like the one before him. His light brown hair shaved nearly to his flesh an foreshadowing grey hairs that would soon take over. He stood an saluted the younger man an then sat back down.
“At ease Corporal.”
Chet widened his stance an crossed his hands behind his back relaxing his shoulders slightly but still staring strait ahead firmly. Waiting patiently.
“I have reports that indicate that you made an attempt to leave the state an succeeded to return to Georgia. Yes or no?”
“Yes Sir!” Chet replied honestly.
“While there you were apprehended an taken to a temporary stationary that higher officers had set up. An there upon you were punished by former Corporal Monty Shrader, indicated here that he nearly beat you to death. Yes?
“Yes Sir.”
The Lt. General nodded in return an stood from his desk an walked around it to lean against the front of the oak piece of furniture. “How are you recovering Corporal?”
Chet cleared his voice an relaxed a little more, his muscles sore an stiff from returning to his daily routine of heavy work. “A bit stiff an… weak Sir.”
“You’re a promising young man Corporal Chet Duke, but I will tell you that another case of defiance like this an you will not only loose your rank but you will be punished in the most severe form in the business. Do I make myself clear Corporal?”
“Yes Sir.”
Nodding the Lt. General returned to his office seat an paged the secretary to his office. “Mam, give Chet here a one full ration of food.” The Lt. General paused eyeing the younger man. “You know we usually don’t issue rations to anyone your age an rank. But with your wounds you need the extra nutrition an energy. You’re a valuable tool to us Corporal, do not disappoint us…. Fall out!”