by: Kristy Duke

Raw emotions heavily ripple through my numb body as I stare heavily at the old farmhouse that doubles as Landon’s  hideout, my thought remain upon what I had just witnessed an hour ago. Of Shawn angrily telling Bo that his killer should have finished his job, that it would have been good for Hazzard. How dumb can he possibly be? I feel a small smile cross my face as I think of Luke’s quick and harsh reaction was towards Shawn’s outburst, of Jesse’s anger toward what Shawn had said. But better yet, was watching and listening into Shawn quickly trying to take back all that he had said once he realized exactly what he had done. Of the heavy fear in his eyes as Luke boldly accused Shawn of attacking Bo in the barn while he acted hurt and insulted of the accusation in order to persuade his old friend that he didn’t do the exact thing he had done. Of the little that I know of Luke, one thing is sure: he’s protective of Bo and he’ll do everything in his power to find out whoever wronged Bo. Whoever wronged Bo, was in for a nasty surprise when Luke found them as makes sure whoever did it, paid at full price for what they had done. And now that someone is his old friend, Shawn Graham. Deep down, I know, give Luke a few days he’ll find out it was Shawn who attacked Bo. Will find out who Shawn really is.

Thinking of that sends fear and worry deep down within me, because deep down, I know once Luke finds out it was Shawn, Shawn will start fingering me as being part of his gang. Not fear or worry of Luke, I didn’t wrong Bo, Shawn had. But fear and worry in knowing once Shawn goes down, so will the rest of his gang, which would also include me because I had so boldly walked up and forced them to accept me into their gang. Which I don’t dread. I dread the fact that Shawn is as dumb as he is and he will greedily take everyone down with him to ensure that he’s not the only one who pays for the crimes. It’s just who he is. Greedy, coward, dumb, and confident; all at the same time. Yet, Landon approves of Shawn and all is ‘mistakes’ that is costing the whole gang with each passing day, despite his anger outburst and putting me as Shawn’s ‘babysitter’ he seems to look upon Shawn as a younger brother. Protective of him. But in a different way than Luke is of Bo. Luke is more forgiving than Landon would ever be.

Climbing off of my motorcycle and begin to walk across the muddy driveway, I silently muse on whether or not Landon will be so forgiving now that Shawn has slipped up again.

“There’s Garrett,” Landon greets me with a large smile and I am surprised not to see the anger from him as I was expecting and I glance around the large room to find Shawn leaning against the back wall, talking freely to Cliff and Darrell. “Shawn was guessing you lost your way here, but I told him to give you time, you’d make it here.”

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by: Margaret

He was in a white room that looked something like a hospital. Spotless white ceilings,
glaring white walls, a thick, carpeted floor. The whole place was so clean and so quiet
that it was irritating. There were no windows here, no place to feel a breeze or to smell
the fresh outdoor air. The little knickknacks that often decorate a room, portraying the
character of the person or persons living in it, were also gone. No pictures, posters, or
statues stood on any of the shelves. All was empty. All the drawers were bare. The only
thing he could see was mind-numbing white, with no other colors to break its
overwhelming monotony.
He felt wrong in this lifeless room that had the aura of institutional humdrum.
Claustrophobia and a feeling of being trapped swelled up in his throat; he was choking in
here! He turned around, looking for a door, and that’s when it dawned on him. There was
no door! There was no way out! He ran to the walls and studied them. He followed the
cracks with his fingertips, tracing the plaster, looking for a hidden door. He couldn’t find
anything. The more the seconds ticked by, the more the panic deep in his gut grew.
He ran from one end of the room to the other. *There has to be a way out! There has
to!* He was about ready to try breaking through the wall… when he heard the sound of
weeping.
He spun around, and there behind him stood a king-size bed that appeared literally out
of nowhere. White sheets with ruffles on the end draped over the mattress and spilled
gloriously to the floor. The white pillows in their white silk cases stood fluffed near the
headrest. It was a beautiful piece of furniture, that looked like the most uncomfortable
thing in the world.

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by: Kristy Duke

Excitement and disbelief heavily floods within me as I open the heavy wooden door to find the large room to be lined and filled with thick heavy shelves that are packed with stacks of hundred dollar bills on the left side of the room. On the right side of the room, the shelves are lined with all sorts of different kinds of food and drinks. All left unguarded and for the taking…by me. I hear myself laugh aloud as I am filled with greed and happiness and I quickly step into the room, taking it all in, not knowing where to start. Quickly I grab a thick heavy warm sandwich and take a big bite of it before moving over to grab a thick stack of new bills and begin fanning myself with it…

“Jefferson Davis!” the familiar sound of Lulu’s voice slowly pierces through my sleep, throwing me out of the large room filled with money and food and back into my large room filled with thick darkness. “Jefferson Davis! Wake up!”

For a long moment, I stare through the darkness before my eyes adjust to the darkness and I find her leaning over me as she places a thick hand upon my shoulder. Disappointment and anger floods through me towards her for waking me up from my dream and I quickly shove her hand away to roll over, away from her. “No, no, not now,” I hear myself groggily say, closing my eyes in hope of revisiting the large room once more, “I’m going to sleep in today.”

“No, you are not!” Lulu yells, her voice gets an high pitch as it does when she is frightened or upset, “We’ve been robbed!”

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by: Margaret

A large black-and-white television monitor froze, and the aerial picture of a family in
distress became like wallpaper in the far corner of the darkened room. The Smoking Man
took in a large cloud of nicotine from his half-burnt cigarette and held it for a while
before finally letting the smoke out through his nostrils. He stared at Fox Mulder’s
enlarged frozen form. Cringing in the corner, flinching at the sight of the cell phone,
Mulder portrayed through his demeanor the childlike fear he had kept secret from the
world for so long. The Smoking Man would have never guessed that the key to his
enemy’s weakness lay in the nightmares of his childhood. What an auspicious day this
was indeed! You could not buy information this good.
He brought his cigarette to his lips, sucked at the paper filter again, and gazed at Bo
Duke’s confused expression. He smiled and swallowed before letting his breath out. This
one wasn’t as difficult to read. The young fair-haired farmer wore his emotions like the
medals on a General’s fancy jacket ~ right out in the open. In many ways, Bo Duke
reminded him of Patricia. There was nothing hidden there. All patterns and emotions of
the heart were laid bare, and hurting him would not only be easy… but amusing.
The old man reached into his pocket and felt the metal casing of a remote control.
Using his thumb, he traced the outline of an elongated button, and when he punched it,
the spotlights in the auditorium switched on. Then, he turned around and faced the
people behind him.
It was like being in a theatrical play with him as the main Shakespearean star. The
audience was a large group. Sitting semicircle in rows of chairs that circled upwards like
the mouth of a funnel, the men and women of the Secret Society watched the film of the
Dukes with distant, scientific fascination. The eclectic crowd came from everywhere:
Asia, South America, the Middle East, and yes, even America. All in all, THEY
numbered a little over a hundred and represented only a thin slice of the Secret Society’s
population. It was an intimidating sight. Here in this room sat the most dangerous, the
most secret, and the most powerful men and women on the face of the earth.

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by: Kristy Duke

Pain screams loudly within me and I find myself holding my breath as Luke helps me to slowly sit down upon the well used wheelchair that Uncle Jesse holds in place for me. Looking from Luke, who has moved to grab my boots a few feet away, up to Jesse, and at the empty hospital bed that lies besides me, a river of emotions runs through me. Emotions of happiness and excitement at the thought of after a week and a half of being trapped in the hospital bed and tied to machines, of finally being released and able to return to the farm I had grew up at. Though with thoughts of returning home, also means facing Shawn once more only to send dread and fear soaring violently within me with thoughts of what the near future will hold with him at the farm. I sigh heavily as I struggle to shove away the negative emotions only to cough harshly for a short moment to send pain flaring in my lungs and both Jesse and Luke looks at me with concern.

“You OK?” Luke looks up at me after gently placing my left cowboy boot upon my foot and standing back up with my right boot still in his hand.

I nod silently for a moment before the pain forces me to sit still once more. “I’m fine,” I finally gasp aloud, looking beyond Luke and at the closed door. “Let’s go.”

“Well you heard the man, let’s go,” Luke forces a smile at me before motioning Jesse to the door while he rushes over to open the door and Jesse begins to wheel me out into the brightly lit hallway to find Doctor Millard leaning against the hall opposite of the hall of my room

Millard smiles before he walks over to approach us. “Daisy’s got the crutches and the medicine already loaded and ready to go. Now it looks like they got you ready to go as well,” Millard smiles down at me, “Before you leave, how you feel?”

“You asked me that a few minutes ago and nothing has changed,” I snap at him and Jesse places a hand upon my shoulder to redirect my answer, and I slowly continue, “I’m fine.”

“Just making sure,” Millard responds before looking up at Jesse, “feel free to give me a call, day or night, if he gets worse or if you have any questions or concerns. Otherwise it is important to keep upon on his medicines as directed in order for him to heal and to get better sooner; plus without proper attention, his asthma could quickly turn for the worse.” He looks back at me as he directs his last part of advice to me, “With that said, we all know how much you seemed to dislike your stay here. So, in order for you to stay outta here, you’re going to have to take the medicines and to get regular follow ups until Applebee says they’re not needed any more. As well as to get a lot of rest. OK?”

“Yeah. Sure,” I respond, quickly growing impatient with the doctor.

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