Dukes in Canada, pt. 3

by: Essy Jane

Inside the police station…

“I’d finger print you but there really isn’t any point Kee-kee. Bo, it’s
nothing against you. It’s just the first time I’ve been honest in weeks. I
find it the top joke of the day.” Bo sneered at him as Rosco opened the jail
cell door.

“Why now?” Bo asked.

“That one’s none of your business.” Rosco walked upstairs leaving Bo
downstairs by himself. Giving him a chance to escape but Bo saw no need. He
knew that Cooter saw him and would get Luke over. In the mean time, Bo would
just sit tight and wait for Luke. At times like this, don’t you wish Uncle
Jesse were here?

About 10 minutes later, Luke came storming through the doors like Uncle
Jesse normally did. With Jud at his side, kind of like Daisy running to give
Rosco a piece of her mind. “Rosco, you had no right to lock up my cousin!”
Jud yelled. You could feel the anger soar through him.

“I had a right! He didn’t pay his tickets!” Rosco yelled back.

“Most of them are phonies and you know it,” Luke stated.

“But he still needs them tickets paid off to get out of here.”

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How Jumper Came to Be, ch. 8

By: Hilery “Scoot” Davenport
Edited by: Hoss

It was dark by the time dinner was over, so everyone turned in, hoping for an early start and the chance to clear themselves.

The following morning Hilery was the first one up. She grabbed two pots and walked down to the stream while everyone else was still sleeping. Once there, she filled them with icy cold water and walked back. Gently she woke up Cooter by nudging him.

“Hey cuz, wanna help me with something?” Cooter eyed the two small pots in her hands warily. He took his time shaking his head. No way was he gonna help her get even with the boys. Hilery just shrugged. She walked over to where Bo and Luke were sleeping and stood between them. Before her cousin, who was now fully awake, could stop her, she dumped the bone-chilling water on them.

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Silence Speaks a Thousand Words, ch. 7

by: MacSas

Daisy had tried desperately to make herself at home in the small cabin. Her first day had been spent airing out the single bedroom structure. She’d swept the wrap around porch at least three times. Dusted the floor rugs, mopped the wooden floors all through the cabin, opened every window, and even oiled the porch swing. Now three days into her hide out she was getting bored.

An absolute country girl at heart, she admired the scenery surrounding the cabin every day, had breakfast with every sunrise and waited out every sunset with coffee in hand. She’d fished in the nearby stream and walked the short tracks around the cabin. No one visited her, “just in case,” but she was constantly in contact with both Luke, at the farmhouse, and Martin, who spent his days at the Sheriffs office and nights at the farm. However, she was now beginning to wish she’d had the foresight to have packed more reading material than the two Tom Clancy novels she’d taken from Luke’s room. Music would have been perfect, but Martin worried that someone would hear it. And she was lucky it wasn’t cold; someone may see smoke from the stonework chimney if she lit the fire.

Now as she sat on the porch swing, watching a deer amble past the cabins small clearing, she wondered how much longer she would have to put her life on hold like this. Her superior had cleared her CSI caseload just so she could sit here and wait for Lex to make his next move. Uncle Jesse had been told by Luke to not go near the farm because they were waiting for Lex to make his next move. Bo was missing out on taking part in a Nascar race because they were waiting for Lex to make his next move. Everyone around her was waiting on Lex to make a move, and it angered her. It was bad enough that her life should be caught in a tornado spin, but those close to her were now being dragged into its down draft. One bad decision of hers was making life hell for just about everyone. How much longer was she going to have to pay for her foolish heart?

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Dukes in Canada, pt. 2

by: Essy Jane

Days turned into weeks since Jud had arrived. But the funny thing was that
no one really seemed to notice any change. The only difference was that
there were three Duke boys instead of two.

Rosco was still up to his old dirty tricks as was Boss. Boss Hogg had a plan
that would make him a lot of money. As usual it involved the Dukes. Then
again, why wouldn’t it engage with the Dukes?

“Them two are boxers right?” He said.

“Right,” Rosco replied.

“And they’re brothers right?”

“Right. But Boss I don’t get where you’re goin’ with this!”

“Well of course you don’t pea brain, the day you understand something is the
day I run out of money.”

“Kea-gee-gee. Oh fat buddy.” Rosco pinch his cheeks as he always does.

“Well anyway, them boys are going to box for me. And I’ll sell tickets for
ten dollars each to see ‘Killer Kane’ and his big brother, ‘The Duke of
Death’. I could’ve planed it any better.”

“Ah boss, who are they going to fight? You know that Luke wouldn’t punch out
his baby brother.”

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The Ransom: Chapter 7

by: Kristy Duke

Silence slowly builds between us as the powerful engine hums loudly under the hood of The General as I redirect him to a sharp right onto another dirt road. My eyes continues to sweep across the dirt road to take in the hilly surroundings, the open pastures and fields, and the thick wooded areas in full attention of anything different than normal. So far in the past fifteen minutes, nothing different except the silence that builds between us. Bo’s normally talking about one thing or another, whether it is something that is bothering him, worrying him, or what he’s thinking about, a pretty girl, racing, cars, or music.  Today nothing except for his wheezy breathing as he struggles to breathe to remind me of Jesse’s concern this morning. His medicine doesn’t seem to even work anymore. I nod silently to myself as my thoughts fall onto finding him asleep in the barn when I had pulled him out of a bad dream, him yelling no and falling into an attack. Of him pulling his inhaler out and taking his medicine as he is prescribed to do only seemingly to help slightly if at all. His gasping had slowed and wasn’t as loud, though the pain was reflective in his baby blue eyes. If medicine don’t work, the only thing left is another visit to the hospital or perhaps a nebulizer of which he hates just as much as the hospital. At least of which I learned growing up with him.

“You want to talk about it?” I finally ask to break the silence and in hope of directing my thoughts away from his asthma, “About anything?”

Bo slowly looks away from his open window. “Not really,” he shrugs before building the wall he has seemed to build around himself, “there’s nothing to talk about.”

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